is musty
routine of Party politics. The people will be heard, Mr. Henslow.
Their voice has dominated the fate of every nation in time, and it will
be so with ours."

Mr. Henslow was silent for a few minutes. This young man who would
not drink champagne, or be hail-fellow-well-met, and who was in such
deadly earnest, was a nuisance.

"I tell you what I'll do," he said at last. "I'll have a few words with
Sir Henry, and see you tomorrow at what time you like."

"Certainly," Brooks answered, rising. "If you will allow me to make a
suggestion, Mr. Henslow, I would ask you to run through in your memory
all your speeches and go through your pledges one by one. Let Sir Henry
understand that your constituents will not be trifled with, for it is
not a question of another candidate, it is a question of another party.
You have set the ball rolling, and I can assure you that the next Member
whom Medchester sends here, whether it be you or any one else, will come
fully pledged to a certain measure of Protection."

Mr. Henslow nodded.

"Very well," he said, gloomily. "Where are you staying?

"At the Metropole. Mr. Bullsom is there also."

"I will call," Mr. Henslow promised, "at three o'clock, if that is
convenient."

Brooks passed out across the great courtyard and through the gates. He
had gone to his interview with Henslow in a somewhat depressed state of
mind, and its result had not been enlivening. Were all politics like
this? Was the greatest of causes, the cause of the people, to be tossed
about from one to the other, a joke with some, a juggling ball with
others, never to be dealt with firmly and wisely by the brains and
generosity of the Empire? He looked back at the Houses of Parliament,
with their myriad lights, their dark, impressive outline. And for a
moment the depression passed away. He thought of the freedom which had
been won within those walls, of the gigantic struggles, the endless,
restless journeying onward towards the truths, the great truths of the
world. All politicians were not as this man Henslow. There were
others, more strenuous, more single-hearted. He himself--and his heart
beat at the thought--why should he not take his place there? The thought
fascinated him,--every word of Lord Arranmore's letter which he had
recently received, seemed to stand out before him. His feet fell more
blithely upon the pavement, he carried himself with a different air.
Here were ample means to fill his life,--means