e what, to a man trained in the
traditions of Sir Robert's school, was hardly less unconstitutional and
wrong. Through the machinery of his great gatherings, it was to be
plainly intimated to the members what course their constituents and
masters willed them to follow. He proposed to take every precaution
against riot--and the necessary measures fell within the sphere of his
own official duties as Chief Secretary; but he was willing and eager
that every form of suasion and threat, short of the cudgels for which
Francois Gaspard pined, should be brought to bear on his renegade
followers. And, in the second place, it was a vital object to him to
probe as deep as he could into the secrets of the popular mind. In six
months the life of the Legislative Assembly would expire by effluxion of
time: at any moment before he had a right to demand a dissolution,
provided that he could convince the Governor of the probability of his
coming back with a majority; thus, if the meetings could not avert
defeat, they would, he hoped, teach him what course to follow in face of
it. Lastly, he anticipated a renewal of energy and confidence in his own
followers as the result of an outward manifestation of the support which
he believed the masses of the electors accorded to his policy. His plans
ignored the mine which was always beneath his feet. He had not forgotten
it: it was constantly present to his mind with its menace of sudden
explosion, but he was driven to disregard a chance that was entirely
incalculable. He could not discern the mind of Benham, or of the man who
pulled the strings to which Benham danced, accurately enough to forecast
when the moment of attack would come. He felt sure that nothing short of
the surrender and renunciation of all his policy could avert the
blow--perhaps not even that would serve; if so, the blow must fall, when
and where it would; for, whatever its effect on his position or his
party, it would not leave him so powerless or so humbled in his own eyes
as a voluntary submission to the terms his enemies chose to dictate.
The alternative of surrender would never have crossed his mind, had he
been able to think only of the political side of the matter. But there
was another, on which Benham's threats played with equal force. The
episode of Dick Derosne's banishment had opened his eyes more fully to
what the revelation might mean to his daughter; for, when he thought
over the abrupt end that had been put to th
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