dity of
voice--that resonant shout of triumph or of defiance? Sir William coo'd
gently as the white-feathered dove; and the Tory Benches, which had been
ebullient with excitement a few moments before, could not find it in
their hearts to do other than listen reverently to this good and holy
man expostulating with heathen foes. And thus the first resolution of
the Budget got quietly through, which was exactly what the Chancellor of
the Exchequer wanted; whereupon there might have been observed, perhaps,
by a close looker-on, a sinking of one of Sir William's eyelids, which
might have suggested in a lesser mortal the wink of the man who takes
off the mask when the comedy is over. Sir William is a splendid artiste.

[Sidenote: A great night.]

It was probably under the influence of Sir William that this turned out
to be the greatest and best night the Government had had so far. The
Railway Servants' Bill got through its third reading amid cheers, and
then, before it knew where it was, the House found itself actually in
the same night discussing a third Ministerial measure--the Scotch
Fisheries Bill. It is one of the privileges of Scotland that nobody
takes the least interest in her measures outside her own
representatives, and that even they are sombre and joyless in the
expression of their delight. The demand for Scotch Home Rule does not
come assuredly from the intervention of English or Irish speech. I have
never seen the House with more than a score or two of members when a
Scotch question is under discussion, and on the rare occasions on which
a Southron does dare to intrude upon the sacred domain, it is with the
most shamefaced looks. And so Sir George Trevelyan and his Scotch
friends were allowed to have their nice little tea-party without any
interruption, and the Bill got very nicely through. Thus ended a
remarkable night.

[Sidenote: The bullet in Downing Street.]

And now I come to the point which, after all, had been the most
interesting during the week, and which, though rarely mentioned, was in
everybody's mind. It was on the Thursday evening that Mr. Sexton got up
quietly to ask whether the reports published in the evening papers were
true, that a man had been arrested the previous night in Downing Street,
who had apparently intended to attempt the assassination of the Prime
Minister. There was death-like stillness all over the House as Mr.
Sexton put his question--picking his words slowly and deliberate