time we began," he said; "the steam-tug is waiting on the
river already. I move that Comrade Buttons takes the chair."

This being approved by a show of hands, the little man with the papers
slipped into the presidential seat.

"Comrades," he began, as sharp as a pistol-shot, "our meeting tonight
is important, though it need not be long. This branch has always had the
honour of electing Thursdays for the Central European Council. We have
elected many and splendid Thursdays. We all lament the sad decease of
the heroic worker who occupied the post until last week. As you know,
his services to the cause were considerable. He organised the great
dynamite coup of Brighton which, under happier circumstances, ought to
have killed everybody on the pier. As you also know, his death was as
self-denying as his life, for he died through his faith in a hygienic
mixture of chalk and water as a substitute for milk, which beverage he
regarded as barbaric, and as involving cruelty to the cow. Cruelty, or
anything approaching to cruelty, revolted him always. But it is not
to acclaim his virtues that we are met, but for a harder task. It is
difficult properly to praise his qualities, but it is more difficult to
replace them. Upon you, comrades, it devolves this evening to choose
out of the company present the man who shall be Thursday. If any comrade
suggests a name I will put it to the vote. If no comrade suggests a
name, I can only tell myself that that dear dynamiter, who is gone
from us, has carried into the unknowable abysses the last secret of his
virtue and his innocence."

There was a stir of almost inaudible applause, such as is sometimes
heard in church. Then a large old man, with a long and venerable white
beard, perhaps the only real working-man present, rose lumberingly and
said--

"I move that Comrade Gregory be elected Thursday," and sat lumberingly
down again.

"Does anyone second?" asked the chairman.

A little man with a velvet coat and pointed beard seconded.

"Before I put the matter to the vote," said the chairman, "I will call
on Comrade Gregory to make a statement."

Gregory rose amid a great rumble of applause. His face was deadly pale,
so that by contrast his queer red hair looked almost scarlet. But he was
smiling and altogether at ease. He had made up his mind, and he saw
his best policy quite plain in front of him like a white road. His best
chance was to make a softened and ambiguous speech, such as