Book: My Novel, Volume 10.

E >> Edward Bulwer Lytton >> My Novel, Volume 10.




In fact, whether Audley Egerton was right or wrong in his theory depends
upon much subtler, and perhaps loftier, views in the casuistry of
political duties, than it was in his character to take. And I guard
myself from saying anything in praise or disfavour of his notions, or
implying that he is a fit or unfit example in a parallel case. I am but
describing the man as he was, and as a man like him would inevitably be,
under the influences in which he lived, and in that peculiar world of
which he was so emphatically a member. "Ce n'est pas moi qui parle,
c'est Marc Aurele."

He speaks, not I.

Randal had no time for further discussion. They now reached Egerton's
house, and the minister, taking the chamber candlestick from his
servant's hand, nodded a silent goodnight to Leslie, and with a jaded
look retired to his room.




CHAPTER XV.

But not on the threatened question was that eventful campaign of Party
decided. The Government fell less in battle than skirmish. It was one
fatal Monday--a dull question of finance and figures. Prosy and few were
the speakers,--all the Government silent, save the Chancellor of the
Exchequer, and another business-like personage connected with the Board
of Trade, whom the House would hardly condescend to hear. The House was
in no mood to think of facts and figures. Early in the evening, between
nine and ten, the Speaker's sonorous voice sounded, "Strangers must
withdraw!" And Randal, anxious and foreboding, descended from his seat
and went out of the fatal doors. He turned to take a last glance at
Audley Egerton. The whipper-in was whispering to Audley; and the
minister pushed back his hat from his brows, and glanced round the House,
and up into the galleries, as if to calculate rapidly the relative
numbers of the two armies in the field; then be smiled bitterly, and
threw himself back into his seat. That smile long haunted Leslie.

Amongst the strangers thus banished with Randal, while the division was
being taken, were many young men, like himself, connected with the
administration,--some by blood, some by place. Hearts beat loud in the
swarming lobbies. Ominous mournful whispers were exchanged. "They say
the Government will have a majority of ten." "No; I hear they will
certainly be beaten." "H--says by fifty." "I don't believe it," said a
Lord of the Bedchamber; "it is impossible. I left five Government
members dining at The Travellers." "No one thought the division would be
so early." "A trick of the Whigs-shameful!" "Wonder some one was not
set up to talk for time; very odd P--did not speak; however, he is so
cursedly rich, he does not care whether he is out or in." "Yes; and
Audley Egerton too, just such another: glad, no doubt, to be set free
to look after his property; very different tactics if we had men to whom
office was as necessary as it is--to me!" said a candid young placeman.
Suddenly the silent Leslie felt a friendly grasp on his arm. He turned
and saw Levy.

"Did I not tell you?" said the baron, with an exulting smile.

"You are sure, then, that the Government will be outvoted?"

"I spent the morning in going over the list of members with a
parliamentary client of mine, who knows them all as a shepherd does his
sheep. Majority for the Opposition at least twenty-five."

"And in that case must the Government resign, sir?" asked the candid
young placeman, who had been listening to the smart, well-dressed baron,
"his soul planted in his ears."

"Of course, sir," replied the baron, blandly, and offering his snuff-box
(true Louis Quinze, with a miniature of Madame de Pompadour, set in
pearls). "You are a friend to the present ministers? You could not wish
them to be mean enough to stay in?" Randal drew aside the baron.

"If Audley's affairs are as you state, what can he do?"

"I shall ask him that question to-morrow," answered the baron, with a
look of visible hate; "and I have come here just to see how he bears the
prospect before him."

"You will not discover that in his face. And those absurd scruples of
his! If he had but gone out in time--to come in again with the New Men!"

"Oh, of course, our Right Honourable is too punctilious for that!"
answered the baron, sneering.

Suddenly the doors opened, in rushed the breathless expectants. "What
are the numbers? What is the division?"

"Majority against ministers," said a member of Opposition, peeling an
orange, "twenty-nine."

The baron, too, had a Speaker's order; and he came into the House with
Randal, and sat by his side. But, to their disgust, some member was
talking about the other motions before the House.

"What! has nothing been said as to the division?" asked the baron of a
young county member, who was talking to some non-parliamentary friend in
the bench before Levy. The county member was one of the baron's pet
eldest sons, had dined often with Levy, was under "obligations" to him.
The young legislator looked very much ashamed of Levy's friendly pat on
his shoulder, and answered hurriedly, "Oh, yes; H------ asked if, after
such an expression of the House, it was the intention of ministers to
retain their places, and carry on the business of the Government."

"Just like H-------! Very inquisitive mind! And what was the answer he
got?"

"None," said the county member; and returned in haste to his proper seat
in the body of the House.

"There comes Egerton," said the baron. And, indeed, as most of the
members were now leaving the House, to talk over affairs at clubs or in
saloons, and spread through town the great tidings, Audley Egerton's
tall head was seen towering above the rest. And Levy turned away
disappointed. For not only was the minister's handsome face, though
pale, serene and cheerful, but there was an obvious courtesy, a marked
respect, in the mode in which that assembly--heated though it was--made
way for the fallen minister as he passed through the jostling crowd. And
the frank urbane nobleman, who afterwards, from the force, not of talent
but of character, became the leader in that House, pressed the hand of
his old opponent, as they met in the throng near the doors, and said
aloud, "I shall not be a proud man if ever I live to have office; but I
shall be proud if ever I leave it with as little to be said against me as
your bitterest opponents can say against you, Egerton."

"I wonder," exclaimed the baron, aloud, and leaning over the partition
that divided him from the throng below, so that his voice reached
Egerton--and there was a cry from formal, indignant members, "Order in
the strangers' gallery I wonder what Lord L'Estrange will say?"

Audley lifted his dark brows, surveyed the baron for an instant with
flashing eyes, then walked down the narrow defile between the last
benches, and vanished from the scene, in which, alas! so few of the
most admired performers leave more than an actor's short-lived name!




CHAPTER XVI.

Baron Levy did not execute his threat of calling on Egerton the next
morning. Perhaps he shrank from again meeting the flash of those
indignant eyes. And indeed Egerton was too busied all the forenoon to
see any one not upon public affairs, except Harley, who hastened to
console or cheer him. When the House met, it was announced that the
ministers had resigned, only holding their offices till their successors
were appointed. But already there was some reaction in their favour; and
when it became generally known that the new administration was to be
formed of men few indeed of whom had ever before held office, the common
superstition in the public mind that government is like a trade, in which
a regular apprenticeship must be served, began to prevail; and the talk
at the clubs was that the new men could not stand; that the former
ministry, with some modification, would be back in a month. Perhaps that
too might be a reason why Baron Levy thought it prudent not prematurely
to offer vindictive condolences to Mr. Egerton. Randal spent part of his
morning in inquiries as to what gentlemen in his situation meant to do
with regard to their places; he heard with great satisfaction that very
few intended to volunteer retirement from their desks. As Randal himself
had observed to Egerton, "Their country before their party!"

Randal's place was of great moment to him; its duties were easy, its
salary amply sufficient for his wants, and defrayed such expenses as were
bestowed on the education of Oliver and his sister. For I am bound to do
justice to this young man,--indifferent as he was towards his species in
general, the ties of family were strong with him; and he stinted himself
in many temptations most alluring to his age, in the endeavour to raise
the dull honest Oliver and the loose-haired pretty Juliet somewhat more
to his own level of culture and refinement. Men essentially griping and
unscrupulous often do make the care for their family an apology for their
sins against the world. Even Richard III., if the chroniclers are to be
trusted, excused the murder of his nephews by his passionate affection
for his son. With the loss of that place, Randal lost all means of
support, save what Audley could give him; and if Audley were in truth
ruined? Moreover, Randal had already established at the office a
reputation for ability and industry. It was a career in which, if he
abstained from party politics, he might rise to a fair station and to a
considerable income. Therefore, much contented with what he learned as
to the general determination of his fellow officials, a determination
warranted by ordinary precedent in such cases, Randal dined at a club
with good relish, and much Christian resignation for the reverse of his
patron, and then walked to Grosvenor Square, on the chance of finding
Audley within. Learning that he was so, from the porter who opened the
door, Randal entered the library. Three gentlemen were seated there with
Egerton: one of the three was Lord L'Estrange; the other two were members
of the really defunct, though nominally still existing, Government. He
was about to withdraw from intruding on this conclave, when Egerton said
to him gently, "Come in, Leslie; I was just speaking about yourself."

"About me, sir?"

"Yes; about you and the place you hold. I had asked Sir ----[pointing to
a fellow minister] whether I might not, with propriety, request your
chief to leave some note of his opinion of your talents, which I know is
high, and which might serve you with his successor."

"Oh, sir, at such a time to think of me!" exclaimed Randal, and he was
genuinely touched.

"But," resumed Audley, with his usual dryness, "Sir ----, to my surprise,
thinks that it would better become you that you should resign. Unless
his reasons, which he has not yet stated, are very strong, such would not
be my advice."

"My reasons," said Sir ----, with official formality, "are simply these:
I have a nephew in a similar situation; he will resign, as a matter of
course. Every one in the public offices whose relations and near
connections hold high appointments in the Government will do so. I do
not think Mr. Leslie will like to feel himself a solitary exception."

"Mr. Leslie is no relation of mine,--not even a near connection,"
answered Egerton.

"But his name is so associated with your own: he has resided so long in
your house, is so well known in society (and don't think I compliment
when I add, that we hope so well of him), that I can't think it worth his
while to keep this paltry place, which incapacitates him too from a seat
in parliament."

Sir ---- was one of those terribly rich men, to whom all considerations
of mere bread and cheese are paltry. But I must add that he supposed
Egerton to be still wealthier than himself, and sure to provide
handsomely for Randal, whom Sir ---- rather liked than not; and for
Randal's own sake, Sir ---- thought it would lower him in the estimation
of Egerton himself, despite that gentleman's advocacy, if he did not
follow the example of his avowed and notorious patron.

"You see, Leslie," said Egerton, checking Randal's meditated reply, "that
nothing can be said against your honour if you stay where you are; it is
a mere question of expediency; I will judge that for you; keep your
place."

Unhappily the other member of the Government, who had hitherto been
silent, was a literary man. Unhappily, while this talk had proceeded, he
had placed his hand upon Randal Leslie's celebrated pamphlet, which lay
on the library table; and, turning over the leaves, the whole spirit and
matter of that masterly composition in defence of the administration (a
composition steeped in all the essence of party) recurred to his too
faithful recollection. He, too, liked Randal; he did more,--he admired
the author of that striking and effective pamphlet. And therefore,
rousing himself from the sublime indifference he had before felt for the
fate of a subaltern, he said, with a bland and complimentary smile, "No;
the writer of this most able publication is no ordinary placeman. His
opinions here are too vigorously stated; this fine irony on the very
person who in all probability will be the chief in his office has excited
too lively an attention to allow him the /sedet eternumque sedebit/ on an
official stool. Ha, ha! this is so good! Read it, L'Estrange. What
say you?" Harley glanced over the page pointed out to him. The original
was in one of Burley's broad, coarse, but telling burlesques, strained
fine through Randal's more polished satire. It was capital. Harley
smiled, and lifted his eyes to Randal. The unlucky plagiarist's face was
flushed,--the beads stood on his brow. Harley was a good hater; he loved
too warmly not to err on the opposite side; but he was one of those men
who forget hate when its object is distressed and humbled. He put down
the pamphlet and said, "I am no politician; but Egerton is so well known
to be fastidious and over-scrupulous in all points of official etiquette,
that Mr. Leslie cannot follow a safer counsellor."

"Read that yourself, Egerton," said Sir ----; and he pushed the pamphlet
to Audley.

Now Egerton had a dim recollection that that pamphlet was unlucky; but he
had skimmed over its contents hastily, and at that moment had forgotten
all about it. He took up the too famous work with a reluctant hand, but
he read attentively the passages pointed out to him, and then said
gravely and sadly,

"Mr. Leslie, I retract my advice. I believe Sir ---- is right,--that the
nobleman here so keenly satirized will be the chief in your office. I
doubt whether he will not compel your dismissal; at all events, he could
scarcely be expected to promote your advancement. Under the
circumstances, I fear you have no option as a--" Egerton paused a
moment, and, with a sigh that seemed to settle the question, concluded
with--"as a gentleman."

Never did Jack Cade, never did Wat Tyler, feel a more deadly hate to that
word "gentleman" than the well-born Leslie felt then; but he bowed his
head, and answered with his usual presence of mind,

"You utter my own sentiment."

"You think we are right, Harley?" asked Egerton, with an irresolution
that surprised all present.

"I think," answered Harley, with a compassion for Randal that was almost
over-generous, and yet with an equivoque on the words, despite the
compassion,--"I think whoever has served Audley Egerton never yet has
been a loser by it; and if Mr. Leslie wrote this pamphlet, he must have
well served Audley Egerton. If he undergoes the penalty, we may safely
trust to Egerton for the compensation."

"My compensation has long since been made," answered Randal, with grace;
"and that Mr. Egerton could thus have cared for my fortunes, at an hour
so occupied, is a thought of pride which--"

"Enough, Leslie! enough!" interrupted Egerton, rising and pressing his
protege's hand. "See me before you go to bed."

Then the two other ministers rose also and shook hands with Leslie, and
told him he had done the right thing, and that they hoped soon to see him
in parliament; and hinted, smilingly, that the next administration did
not promise to be very long-lived; and one asked him to dinner, and the
other to spend a week at his country-seat. And amidst these
congratulations at the stroke that left him penniless, the distinguished
pamphleteer left the room. How he cursed big John Burley!




CHAPTER XVII.

It was past midnight when Audley Egerton summoned Randal. The statesman
was then alone, seated before his great desk, with its manifold
compartments, and engaged on the task of transferring various papers and
letters, some to the waste-basket, some to the flames, some to two great
iron chests with patent locks, that stood, open-mouthed, at his feet.
Strong, stern, and grim looked those iron chests, silently receiving the
relics of power departed; strong, stern, and grim as the grave. Audley
lifted his eyes at Randal's entrance, signed to him to take a chair,
continued his task for a few moments, and then turning round, as if by an
effort he plucked himself from his master-passion,--Public Life, he said,
with deliberate tones,

"I know not, Randal Leslie, whether you thought me needlessly cautious,
or wantonly unkind, when I told you never to expect from me more than
such advance to your career as my then position could effect,--never to
expect from my liberality in life, nor from my testament in death, an
addition to your private fortunes. I see by your gesture what would be
your reply, and I thank you for it. I now tell you, as yet in
confidence, though before long it can be no secret to the world, that my
pecuniary affairs have been so neglected by me in my devotion to those of
the State, that I am somewhat like the man who portioned out his capital
at so much a day, calculating to live just long enough to make it last.
Unfortunately he lived too long." Audley smiled--but the smile was cold
as a sunbeam upon ice-and went on with the same firm, unfaltering
accents. "The prospects that face me I am prepared for; they do not take
me by surprise. I knew long since how this would end, if I survived the
loss of office. I knew it before you came to me, and therefore I spoke
to you as I did, judging it manful and right to guard you against hopes
which you might otherwise have naturally entertained. On this head, I
need say no more. It may excite your surprise, possibly your blame, that
I, esteemed methodical and practical enough in the affairs of the State,
should be so imprudent as to my own."

"Oh, sir! you owe no account to me."

"To you, at least, as much as to any one. I am a solitary man; my few
relations need nothing from me. I had a right do spend what I possessed
as I pleased; and if I have spent it recklessly as regards myself, I have
not spent it ill in its effect on others. It has been my object for many
years to have no Private Life,--to dispense with its sorrows, joys,
affections; and as to its duties, they did not exist for me. I have
said." Mechanically, as he ended, the minister's hand closed the lid of
one of the iron boxes, and on the closed lid he rested his firm foot.
"But now," he resumed, "I have failed to advance your career. True, I
warned you that you drew into a lottery; but you had more chance of a
prize than a blank. A blank, however, it has turned out, and the
question becomes grave,--What are you to do?"

Here, seeing that Egerton came to a full pause, Randal answered readily,

"Still, sir, to go by your advice."

"My advice," said Audley, with a softened look, "would perhaps be rude
and unpalatable. I would rather place before you an option. On the one
hand, recommence life again. I told you that I would keep your name on
your college books. You can return, you can take your degree, after
that, you can go to the Bar,--you have just the talents calculated to
succeed in that profession. Success will be slow, it is true; but, with
perseverance, it will be sure. And, believe me, Leslie, Ambition is only
sweet while it is but the loftier name for Hope. Who would care for a
fox's brush if it had not been rendered a prize by the excitement of the
chase?"

"Oxford--again! It is a long step back in life," said Randal, drearily,
and little heeding Egerton's unusual indulgence of illustration. "A long
step back--and to what? To a profession in which one never begins to
rise till one's hair is gray. Besides, how live in the mean while?"

"Do not let that thought disturb you. The modest income that suffices
for a student at the Bar, I trust, at least, to insure you from the
wrecks of my fortune."

"Ah, sir, I would not burden you further. What right have I to such
kindness, save my name of Leslie?" And in spite of himself, as Randal
concluded, a tone of bitterness, that betrayed reproach, broke forth.
Egerton was too much the man of the world not to comprehend the reproach,
and not to pardon it.

"Certainly," he answered calmly, "as a Leslie you are entitled to my
consideration, and would have been entitled perhaps to more, had I not so
explicitly warned you to the contrary. But the Bar does not seem to
please you?"

"What is the alternative, sir? Let me decide when I hear it," answered
Randal, sullenly. He began to lose respect for the roan who owned he
could do so little for him, and who evidently recommended him to shift
for himself.

If one could have pierced into Egerton's gloomy heart as he noted the
young man's change of tone, it may be a doubt whether one would have seen
there pain or pleasure,--pain, for merely from the force of habit he had
begun to like Randal, or pleasure at the thought that he might have
reason to withdraw that liking. So lone and stoical had grown the man
who had made it his object to have no private life! Revealing, however,
neither pleasure nor pain, but with the composed calmness of a judge upon
the bench, Egerton replied,--

"The alternative is, to continue in the course you have begun, and still
to rely on me."

"Sir, my dear Mr. Egerton," exclaimed Randal, regaining all his usual
tenderness of look and voice, "rely on you! But that is all I ask.
Only"

"Only, you would say, I am going out of power, and you don't see the
chance of my return?"

"I did not mean that."

"Permit me to suppose that you did: very true; but the party I belong to
is as sure of return as the pendulum of that clock is sure to obey the
mechanism that moves it from left to right. Our successors profess to
come in upon a popular question. All administrations who do that are
necessarily short-lived. Either they do not go far enough to please
present supporters, or they go so far as to arm new enemies in the rivals
who outbid them with the people. 'T is the historymof all revolutions,
and of all reforms. Our own administration in reality is destroyed for
having passed what was called a popular measure a year ago, which lost us
half our friends, and refusing to propose another popular measure this
year, in the which we are outstripped by the men who hallooed us on to
the last. Therefore, whatever our successors do, we shall by the law of
reaction, have another experiment of power afforded to ourselves. It is
but a question of time; you can wait for it,--whether I can is uncertain.
But if I die before that day arrives, I have influence enough still left
with those who will come in, to obtain a promise of a better provision
for you than that which you have lost. The promises of public men are
proverbially uncertain; but I shall entrust your cause to a man who never
failed a friend, and whose rank will enable him to see that justice is
done to you,--I speak of Lord L'Estrange."

"Oh, not he; he is unjust to me; he dislikes me; he--"

"May dislike you (he has his whims), but he loves me; and though for no
other human being but you would I ask Harley L'Estrange a favour, yet for
you I will," said Egerton, betraying, for the first time in that
dialogue, a visible emotion,--"for you, a Leslie, a kinsman, however
remote, to the wife from whom I received my fortune! And despite all my
cautions, it is possible that in wasting that fortune I may have wronged
you. Enough: you have now before you the two options, much as you had at
first; but you have at present more experience to aid you in your choice.
You are a man, and with more brains than most men; think over it well,
and decide for yourself. Now to bed, and postpone thought till the
morrow. Poor Randal, you look pale!"

Audley, as he said the last words, put his hand on Randal's shoulder,
almost with a father's gentleness; and then suddenly drawing himself up,
as the hard inflexible expression, stamped on that face by years,
returned, he moved away and resettled to Public Life and the iron box.




CHAPTER XVIII.

Early the next day Randal Leslie was in the luxurious business-room of
Baron Levy. How unlike the cold Doric simplicity of the statesman's
library! Axminster carpets, three inches thick; /portieres a la
Francaise/ before the doors; Parisian bronzes on the chimney-piece; and
all the receptacles that lined the room, and contained title-deeds and
postobits and bills and promises to pay and lawyer-like japan boxes, with
many a noble name written thereon in large white capitals--"making ruin
pompous," all these sepulchres of departed patrimonies veneered in
rosewood that gleamed with French polish, and blazed with ormulu. There
was a coquetry, an air of /petit maitre/, so diffused over the whole
room, that you could not, for the life of you, recollect you were with a
usurer! Plutus wore the, aspect of his enemy Cupid; and how realize your
idea of Harpagon in that baron, with his easy French "/Mon cher/," and
his white, warm hands that pressed yours so genially, and his dress so
exquisite, even at the earliest morn? No man ever yet saw that baron in
a dressing-gown and slippers! As one fancies some feudal baron of old
(not half so terrible) everlastingly clad in mail, so all one's notions
of this grand marauder of civilization were inseparably associated with
varnished boots and a camellia in the button-hole.

Copyright (c) 2007. knowncrafts.net. All rights reserved.