The Three Clerks by Anthony Trollope

A >> Anthony Trollope >> The Three Clerks

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 45 | 46 | 47

Indeed, so lamentable a proposition as this of building a bridge
across the river had never before been mooted by the public. Men
conversant with such matters gave it as their opinion that no
amount of tolls that could reasonably be expected would pay one
per cent on the money which it was proposed to expend; that sum,
however, they stated, would not more than half cover the full
cost of the bridge. Traffic would be prohibited by the heavy
charges which would be necessary, and the probability would be
that the ferry would still continue to be the ordinary mode of
crossing the river.

A gentleman, accustomed to use strong figures of speech, declared
that if such a bridge were built, the wisest course would be to
sow the surface with grass, and let it out for grazing. This
witness was taken specially in hand by Mr. Nogo, and targed very
tightly. Mr. Vigil had contrived to prove, out of the mouths of
inimical witnesses, the very reverse of that which they had been
summoned thither to assert. The secret of the ferry had been
first brought to the light by the gentleman who could not visit
his daughter at Deptford, and so on. These triumphs had evidently
been very pleasant to Mr. Vigil, and Mr. Nogo thought that he
might judiciously take a leaf out of the Treasury book. Actuated
by this ambition, he, with the assistance of his friend, the
M'Carthy Desmond, put no less than 2,250 questions to the
gentleman who suggested the grazing, in order to induce him to
say, that if there were a bridge, men would probably walk over
it. But they could not bring him to own to a single passenger,
unless they would abandon the tolls. The most that they could get
from him was, that perhaps an old woman, with more money than
wit, might go over it on a Sunday afternoon, if--which he did not
believe--any old woman existed, _in that part of the world_,
who had more money than wit.

This witness was kept in the chair for three days, during which
Mr. Vigil was nearly driven wild by the loss of his valuable
time. But he did not complain. Nor would he have complained,
though he might have absented himself, had the witness been kept
in the chair three weeks instead of three days. The expense of
the committee, including witnesses, shorthand-writers, and
printing, was about L60 a day, but it never occurred to any one
of the number to get up and declare with indignation, that such a
waste of money and time on so palpably absurd a scheme was
degrading, and to demand an immediate close of their labours. It
all went smoothly to the end, and Mr. Nogo walked off from his
task with the approving conscience of a patriotic legislator.

At the close the members met to prepare their report. It was then
the first week in August, and they were naturally in a hurry to
finish their work. It was now their duty to decide on the merits
of what they had heard, to form a judgement as to the veracity of
the witnesses, and declare, on behalf of the country which they
represented, whether or no this bridge should be built at the
expense of the nation.

With his decision each was ready enough; but not one of them
dreamed of being influenced by anything which had been said
before them. All the world--that is, all that were in any way
concerned in the matter--knew that the witnesses for the bridge
were anxious to have it built, and that the witnesses against the
bridge were anxious to prevent the building. It would be the
worst of ignorance, ignorance of the usage of the world we live
in, to suppose that any member of Parliament could be influenced
by such manoeuvres. Besides, was not the mind of each man fully
known before the committee met?

Various propositions were made by the members among themselves,
and various amendments moved. The balance of the different
parties had been nearly preserved. A decided victory was not to
be expected on either side. At last the resolution to which the
committee came was this: 'That this committee is not prepared,
under existing circumstances, to recommend a grant of public
money for the purpose of erecting a bridge at Limehouse; but that
the committee consider that the matter is still open to
consideration should further evidence be adduced.'

Mr. Vigil was perfectly satisfied. He did not wish to acerbate
the member for Mile End, and was quite willing to give him a lift
towards keeping his seat for the borough, if able to do so
without cost to the public exchequer. At Limehouse the report of
the committee was declared by certain persons to be as good as a
decision in their favour; it was only postponing the matter for
another session. But Mr. Vigil knew that he had carried his
point, and the world soon agreed with him. He at least did his
work successfully, and, considering the circumstances of his
position, he did it with credit to himself.

A huge blue volume was then published, containing, among other
things, all Mr. Nogo's 2,250 questions and their answers; and so
the Limehouse and Rotherhithe bridge dropped into oblivion and
was forgotten.

CHAPTER XXXIII

TO STAND, OR NOT TO STAND

Sir Gregory Hardlines had been somewhat startled by Alaric's
announcement of his parliamentary intentions. It not unnaturally
occurred to that great man that should Mr. Tudor succeed at
Strathbogy, and should he also succeed in being allowed to hold
his office and seat together, he, Tudor, would very soon become
first fiddle at the Civil Service Examination Board. This was a
view of the matter which was by no means agreeable to Sir
Gregory. Not for this had he devoted his time, his energy, and
the best powers of his mind to the office of which he was at
present the chief; not for this had he taken by the hand a young
clerk, and brought him forward, and pushed him up, and seated him
in high places. To have kept Mr. Jobbles would have been better
than this; he, at any rate, would not have aspired to parliamentary
honours.

And when Sir Gregory came to look into it, he hardly knew whether
those bugbears with which he had tried to frighten Tudor were
good serviceable bugbears, such as would stand the strain of such
a man's logic and reason. Was there really any reason why one of
the commissioners should not sit in Parliament? Would his doing
so be subversive of the constitution? Or would the ministers of
the day object to an additional certain vote? This last point of
view was one in which it did not at all delight Sir Gregory to
look at the subject in question. He determined that he would not
speak on the matter to the Chancellor of the Exchequer, or to any
of the Government wigs who might be considered to be bigger wigs
than himself.

And Alaric thought over the matter coolly also. He looked at it
till the bugbears shrank into utter insignificance; till they
became no more than forms of shreds and patches put up to
frighten birds out of cherry-orchards.

Why should the constitution be wounded by the presence of one
more commissioner in Parliament? Why should not he do his public
duty and hold his seat at the same time, as was done by so many
others? But he would have to go out if the ministry went out.
That was another difficulty, another bugbear, more substantial
perhaps than the others; but he was prepared to meet even that.
He was a poor man; his profession was that of the Civil Service;
his ambition was to sit in Parliament. He would see whether he
could not combine his poverty with his profession, and with his
ambition also. Sir Gregory resolved in his fear that he would not
speak to the Chancellor of the Exchequer on the matter; Alaric,
on the other hand, in his audacity, resolved that he would do so.

It was thus that Sir Gregory regarded the matter. 'See all that I
have done for this man,' said he to himself; 'see how I have
warmed him in my bosom, how I have lifted him to fortune and
renown, how I have heaped benefits on his head! If gratitude in
this world be possible, that man should be grateful to me; if one
man can ever have another's interest at heart, that man should
have a heartfelt anxiety as to my interest. And yet how is it? I
have placed him in the chair next to my own, and now he is
desirous of sitting above me!'

'Twas thus Sir Gregory communed with himself. But Alaric's
soliloquy was very different. A listener who could have overheard
both would hardly have thought that the same question was being
discussed by the two. 'I have got so high,' said Alaric, 'by my
own labour, by my own skill and tact; and why should I stop here?
I have left my earliest colleagues far behind me; have distanced
those who were my competitors in the walk of life; why should I
not still go on and distance others also? why stop when I am only
second or third? It is very natural that Sir Gregory should wish
to keep me out of Parliament; I cannot in the least blame him;
let us all fight as best each may for himself. He does not wish a
higher career; I do. Sir Gregory will now do all that he can to
impede my views, because they are antagonistic to his own; very
well; I must only work the harder to overcome his objections.'
There was no word in all this of gratitude; there was no thought
in Alaric's mind that it behoved him to be grateful to Sir
Gregory. It was for his own sake, not for his pupil's, that Sir
Gregory had brought this pupil forward. Grateful, indeed! In
public life when is there time for gratitude? Who ever thinks of
other interest than his own?

Such was Alaric's theory of life. But not the less would he have
expected gratitude from those whom he might serve. Such also very
probably was Sir Gregory's theory when he thought of those who
had helped him, instead of those whom he himself had helped.

And so they met, and discussed Alaric's little proposition.

'Since I saw you yesterday,' said Sir Gregory, 'I have been
thinking much of what you were saying to me of your wish to go
into Parliament.'

'I am very much obliged to you,' said Alaric.

'I need hardly tell you, Tudor, how anxious I am to further your
advancement. I greatly value your ability and diligence, and have
shown that I am anxious to make them serviceable to the public.'

'I am fully aware that I owe you a great deal, Sir Gregory.'

'Oh, I don't mean that; that's nothing; I am not thinking of
myself. I only want you to understand that I am truly anxious to
see you take that line in public matters which may make your
services most valuable to the public, and which may redound the
most to your own advantage. I have thought of what you said to me
with the most mature deliberation, and I am persuaded that I
shall best do my duty to you, and to the service, by recommending
you to abandon altogether your idea of going into Parliament.'

Sir Gregory said this in his weightiest manner. He endeavoured to
assume some of that authority with which he had erst cowed the
young Tudor at the Weights and Measures, and as he finished his
speech he assumed a profound look which ought to have been very
convincing.

But the time was gone by with Alaric when such tricks of
legerdemain were convincing to him. A grave brow, compressed
lips, and fixed eyes, had no longer much effect upon him. He had
a point to gain, and he was thinking of that, and not of Sir
Gregory's grimaces.

'Then you will not see the Chancellor of the Exchequer on the
subject?'

'No,' said Sir Gregory; 'it would be useless for me to do so. I
could not advocate such a scheme, feeling certain that it would be
injurious both to yourself and to the service; and I would not
desire to see the Chancellor with the view of opposing your wishes.'

'I am much obliged to you for that, at any rate,' said Alaric.

'But I do hope that you will not carry your plan any farther.
When I tell you, as I do with the utmost sincerity, that I feel
certain that an attempt to seat yourself in Parliament can only
lead to the ruin of your prospects as a Civil servant--prospects
which are brighter now than those of any other young man in the
service--I cannot but think that you must hesitate before you
take any step which will, in my opinion, render your resignation
necessary.'

'I shall be sorry to resign, Sir Gregory, as I have such true
pleasure in serving with you.'

'And, I presume, a salary of L1,200 a year is not unacceptable?'
said Sir Gregory, with the very faintest of smiles.

'By no means,' said Alaric; 'I am a poor man, depending
altogether on my own exertions for an income. I cannot afford to
throw away a chance.'

'Then take my word for it, you should give up all idea of
Parliament,' said Sir Gregory, who thought that he had carried
his point.

'But I call a seat in Parliament a chance,' said Alaric; 'the
best chance that a man, circumstanced as I am, can possibly have.
I have the offer of a seat, Sir Gregory, and I can't afford to
throw it away.'

'Then it is my duty to tell you, as the head of your office, that
it will be your duty to resign before you offer yourself as a
candidate.'

'That you mean is your present opinion, Sir Gregory?'

'Yes, Mr. Tudor, that is my opinion--an opinion which I shall be
forced to express to the Chancellor of the Exchequer, if you
persist in this infatuation.'

Alaric looked very grave, but not a whit angry. 'I am sorry for
it, Sir Gregory, very sorry; I had hoped to have had your
countenance.'

'I would give it you, Mr. Tudor, if I could consistently with my
duty as a public servant; but as I cannot, I am sure you will not
ask for it.' How Fidus Neverbend would have admired the chief
commissioner could he have seen and heard him at this moment!
'But,' he continued, relaxing for a while the muscles of his
face, 'I hope, I do hope, you will think better of this. What are
you to gain? Come, Tudor, think of it that way. What are you to
gain? You, with a wife and young family coming up about your
heels, what are you to gain by going into Parliament? That is
what I ask you. What are you to gain?' It was delightful to see
how pleasantly practical Sir Gregory could become when he chose
to dismount from his high horse.

'It is considered a high position in this country, that of a
member of Parliament,' said Alaric. 'A man in gaining that is
generally supposed to have gained something.'

'True, quite true. It is a desirable position for a rich man, or
a rich man's eldest son, or even for a poor man, if by getting
into Parliament he can put himself in the way of improving his
income. But, my dear Tudor, you are in none of these positions.
Abandon the idea, my dear Tudor--pray abandon it. If not for your
own sake, at any rate do so for that of your wife and child.'

Sir Gregory might as well have whistled. Not a word that he said
had the slightest effect on Alaric. How was it possible that his
words should have any effect, seeing that Alaric was convinced
that Sir Gregory was pleading for his own advantage, and not for
that of his listener? Alaric did listen. He received all that Sir
Gregory said with the most profound attention; schooled his face
into a look of the most polite deference; and then, with his most
cruel tone, informed Sir Gregory that his mind was quite made up,
and that he did intend to submit himself to the electors of
Strathbogy.

'And as to what you say about my seat at the board, Sir Gregory,
you may probably be right. Perhaps it will be as well that I
should see the Chancellor of the Exchequer myself.'

'"Who will to Cupar maun to Cupar,"' said Sir Gregory; 'I can
only say, Mr. Tudor, that I am very sorry for you, and very sorry
for your wife--very sorry, very sorry indeed.'

'And who will to Strathbogy maun to Strathbogy,' said Alaric,
laughing; 'there is certainly an air of truth about the proverb
as applied to myself just at present. But the fact is, whether
for good or for bad, I maun to Strathbogy. That is my present
destiny. The fact that I have a wife and a child does make the
step a most momentous one. But, Sir Gregory, I should never
forgive myself were I to throw away such an opportunity.'

'Then I have nothing more to say, Mr. Tudor.'

'Of course I shall try to save my place,' continued Alaric.

'I look upon that as quite impossible,' said Sir Gregory.

'It can do me no harm at any rate to see the Chancellor of the
Exchequer. If he tells me that a seat in Parliament and a seat at
the board are incompatible, and that as one of the Civil Service
Commissioners I am not free to stand for the borough, I will in
that case, Sir Gregory, put my resignation in your hands before I
publish my address.'

And so they parted, each determined to do all that in him lay to
thwart the wishes of the other. Alaric was not in the least
influenced by anything that Sir Gregory had said to him; he had
made up his mind, and was determined to be turned from it by no
arguments that his colleague could use; but nevertheless he could
not but be meditative, as, walking home across the Parks, he
thought of his wife and child. It is true that he had a second
trade; he was a stock-jobber as well as a Civil Service
Commissioner; but he already perceived how very difficult it was
to realize an income to which he could trust from that second
precarious pursuit. He had also lived in a style considerably
beyond that which his official income would have enabled him to
assume. He had on the whole, he thought, done very well; but yet
it would be a dreadful thing to have to trust to so precarious a
livelihood. He had realized nothing; he had not yet been able to
pay back the money which he had so fraudulently taken, and to
acquit himself of a debt which now lay daily heavier and heavier
on his soul. He felt that he must repay not only that but Undy's
share also, before he could again pass a happy day or a quiet
night. This plan of throwing up L1,200 a year would badly assist
him in getting rid of this incubus.

But still that watchword of his goaded him on--'Excelsior!' he
still said to himself; 'Excelsior!' If he halted now, now when
the ball was at his foot, he might never have another chance.
Very early in life before a beard was on his chin, before he
could style himself a man according to the laws of his country,
he had determined within himself that a seat in Parliament was
the only fitting ambition for an Englishman. That was now within
his reach. Would he be such a dastard as to draw back his hand,
and be deterred from taking it, by old women's tales of prudence,
and the self-interested lectures of Sir Gregory Hardlines?

'Excelsior!' There was not much that could be so styled in that
debt of his to M. and Madame Jaquetanape. If he could only pay
that off he felt that he could brave the world without a fear.
Come what come might he would sell out and do so. The bridge
committee was sitting, and his shares were already worth more
than he had paid for them. Mr. Blocks had just given his
evidence, and the commercial world was willing enough to invest
in the Limehouse bridge. He would sell out and put his conscience
at rest.

But then to do so successfully, he must induce Undy to do so too;
and that he knew would not at present be an easy task. Who had
ever been successful in getting back money from Undy Scott? He
had paid the last half-year's interest with most commendable
punctuality, and was not that a great deal from Undy Scott?

But what if this appropriation of another's money, what if this
fraud should be detected and exposed before he had succeeded in
paying back the L10,000. What if he should wake some morning and
find himself in the grip of some Newgate myrmidon? A terrible new
law had just been passed for the protection of trust property; a
law in which he had not felt the slightest interest when he had
first seen in the daily newspapers some tedious account of the
passing of the various clauses, but which was now terrible to his
innermost thoughts.

His walk across the Parks was not made happy by much self-
triumph. In spite of his commissionership and coming parliamentary
honours, his solitary moments were seldom very happy. It was at
his club, when living with Undy and Undy's peers, that he was
best able to throw off his cares and enjoy himself. But even then,
high as he was mounted on his fast-trotting horse, black Care
would sit behind him, ever mounted on the same steed.

And bitterly did poor Gertrude feel the misery of these evenings
which her husband passed at his club; but she never reviled him
or complained; she never spoke of her sorrow even to her mother
or sister. She did not even blame him in her own heart. She knew
that he had other business than that of his office, higher hopes
than those attached to his board; and she taught herself to
believe that his career required him to be among public men.

He had endeavoured to induce her to associate constantly with
Mrs. Val, so that her evenings might not be passed alone; but
Gertrude, after trying Mrs. Val for a time, had quietly
repudiated the closeness of this alliance. Mrs. Val had her ideas
of 'Excelsior,' her ambition to rule, and these ideas and this
ambition did not at all suit Gertrude's temper. Not even for her
husband's sake could she bring herself to be patronized by Mrs.
Val. They were still very dear friends, of course; but they did
not live in each other's arms as Alaric had intended they should
do.

He returned home after his interview with Sir Gregory, and found
his wife in the drawing-room with her child. He usually went down
from his office to his club, and she was therefore the more ready
to welcome him for having broken through his habit on the present
occasion.

She left her infant sprawling on the floor, and came up to greet
him with a kiss.

'Ger,'--said he, putting his arm round her and embracing her--'I
have come home to consult you on business;' and then he seated
himself on the sofa, taking her with him, and still in his arms.
There was but little doubt that she would consent to anything
which he could propose to her after such a fashion, in such a
guise as this; that he knew full well.

'Well, love,' said she, 'and what is the business about? You know
that I always think that to be best which you think to be best.'

'Yes, Ger; but this is a very important matter;' and then he
looked grave, but managed at the same time to look happy and
contented. 'This is a matter of vital importance to you, and I
will do nothing in it without your consent.'

'What is best for you must be best for me,' said Gertrude,
kissing his forehead.

Then he explained to her what had passed between himself and Sir
Gregory, and what his own ideas were as regarded the borough of
Strathbogy. 'Sir Gregory,' said he, 'is determined that I shall
not remain at the board and sit in Parliament at the same time;
but I do not see why Sir Gregory is to have his own way in
everything. If you are not afraid of the risk, I will make up my
mind to stand it at all events, and to resign if the Minister
makes it imperative. If, however, you fear the result, I will let
the matter drop, and tell the Scotts to find another candidate. I
am anxious to go into Parliament, I confess; but I will never do
so at the expense of your peace of mind.'

The way in which he put upon her the whole weight of the decision
was not generous. Nor was the mode he adopted of inducing her to
back his own wishes. If there were risk to her--and in truth
there was fearful risk--it was his duty to guard her from the
chance, not hers to say whether such danger should be encountered
or no. The nature of her answer may be easily surmised. She was
generous, though he was not. She would never retard his advance,
or be felt as a millstone round his neck. She encouraged him with
all her enthusiasm, and bade him throw prudence to the winds. If
he rose, must she not rise also? Whatever step in life was good
for him, must it not be good for her as well? And so that matter
was settled between them--pleasantly enough.

He endured a fortnight of considerable excitement, during which
he and Sir Gregory did not smile at each other, and then he saw
the Chancellor of the Exchequer. That gentleman promised to speak
to the Prime Minister, feeling himself unable to answer the
question put to him, definitely out of his own head; and then
another fortnight passed on. At the end of that time the
Chancellor of the Exchequer sent for Alaric, and they had a
second interview.

'Well, Mr. Tudor,' said the great man, 'this is a matter of very
considerable importance, and one on which I am not even yet
prepared to give you a positive answer.'

This was very good news for Alaric. Sir Gregory had spoken of the
matter as one on which there could be no possible doubt. He had
asserted that the British lion would no longer sleep peaceably in
his lair, if such a violence were put on the constitution as that
meditated by the young commissioner. It was quite clear that the
Chancellor of the Exchequer, and the Prime Minister also, looked
at it in a very different light. They doubted, and Alaric was
well aware that their doubt was as good as certainty to him.

The truth was that the Prime Minister had said to the Chancellor
of the Exchequer, in a half-serious, half-jocular way, that he
didn't see why he should reject a vote when offered to him by a
member of the Civil Service. The man must of course do his work--
and should it be found that his office work and his seat in
Parliament interfered with each other, why, he must take the
consequences. And if--or--or--made a row about it in the House
and complained, why in that case also Mr. Tudor must take the
consequences. And then, enough having been said on that matter,
the conversation dropped.