lessly.

"I'll tell you this much, it's not a political matter--it's a private
matter, and a public man's private character is everything."

"You think so? To me, it is not a great thing, so that he will do what I
wish."

Benham smiled knowingly as he answered, with a wink,

"At any rate, most people think so. And I'll tell you what, Gaspard, I
hate that fellow. He's wronged me--me, I tell you, and, by God, he shall
smart for it!"

"Oh, if it is a personal quarrel," murmured Francois, with the air of
not desiring to intrude in a matter which concerned two gentlemen alone.

"Every one'll know it in a few days," said Benham, "and then Mr.
Medland's bust up, and all the lot of you with him. Put that in your
pipe and smoke it, friend Gaspard."

"And at present no one knows it but you?"

If Benham had answered truly he would have been wise, but his vaunting
mind persuaded him not to diminish his importance by confessing that he
shared his secret with any one. After all, it was all his secret, though
Kilshaw had bought it.

"Not a soul alive!" he answered, rising to go.

"Ah, then yours is a life valuable to your party. Wrap up, my friend,
wrap up. It is chilly outside."

He buttoned Benham's coat for him with friendly solicitude, besought him
not to get run over--a caution rather necessary--and started him on his
way. Then he sat down again, ordered a cup of coffee, and smoked another
cigarette.

"Decidedly," he said at last, "it would be a thousand pities if a
creature like that were allowed to do any harm to the good Medland.
Surely it would not be right to suffer that?"

And he sat thinking, and becoming more and more sure whither the finger
of duty pointed, until some comrades came and carried him off to take
the chair at an organising committee, where he made a very temperate
speech, and announced that he should regard every one who carried a
stick on Sunday as intentionally guilty of the grossest incivility to
him, Francois Gaspard, and as an enemy to the cause to boot.

CHAPTER XVII.

THE TRUTH ABOUT THE MAN.

In arriving at the bold decision which had caused so much anger and
alarm to his enemies, and some searchings of heart among many who still
ranked themselves as his friends, the Premier had been moved by more
than one motive. The sinister design of overawing the Legislature by the
fear of physical force and armed attack did not form part of his
intentions, but he did intend and desir