and have no voice of our own,
I don't see what's the good of going to the shop at all," said Mr.
Sowerby.

"Not the least use," said Mr. Supplehouse. "We are false to our
constituents in submitting to such a dominion."

"Let's have a change, then," said Mr. Sowerby. "The matter's pretty
much in our own hands."

"Altogether," said Mr. Green Walker. "That's what my uncle always
says."

"The Manchester men will only be too happy for the chance," said
Harold Smith.

"And as for the high and dry gentlemen," said Mr. Sowerby, "it's not
very likely that they will object to pick up the fruit when we shake
the tree."

"As to picking up the fruit, that's as may be," said Mr. Supplehouse.
Was he not the man to save the nation; and if so, why should he not
pick up the fruit himself? Had not the greatest power in the country
pointed him out as such a saviour? What though the country at the
present moment needed no more saving, might there not, nevertheless,
be a good time coming? Were there not rumours of other wars still
prevalent--if indeed the actual war then going on was being brought
to a close without his assistance by some other species of salvation?
He thought of that country to which he had pointed, and of that
friend of his enemies, and remembered that there might be still work
for a mighty saviour. The public mind was now awake, and understood
what it was about. When a man gets into his head an idea that the
public voice calls for him, it is astonishing how greet becomes his
trust in the wisdom of the public. _Vox populi, vox Dei._ "Has it not
been so always?" he says to himself, as he gets up and as he goes to
bed. And then Mr. Supplehouse felt that he was the master mind there
at Gatherum Castle, and that those there were all puppets in his
hand. It is such a pleasant thing to feel that one's friends are
puppets, and that the strings are in one's own possession. But what
if Mr. Supplehouse himself were a puppet? Some months afterwards,
when the much-belaboured head of affairs was in very truth made
to retire, when unkind shells were thrown in against him in great
numbers, when he exclaimed, "_Et tu, Brute!_" till the words were
stereotyped upon his lips, all men in all places talked much about
the great Gatherum Castle confederation. The Duke of Omnium, the
world said, had taken into his high consideration the state of
affairs, and seeing with his eagle's eye that the welfare of
his countrymen at large require