The House was much excited; there was a call for Lord Vargrave, and Lord Vargrave promptly rose. It was one of those dilemmas out of which Lumley was just the man to extricate himself with address. There was so much manly frankness in his manner, there was so much crafty subtlety in his mind! He complained, with proud and honest bitterness, of the construction that had been forced upon his words by the Opposition. "If," he added (and no man knew better the rhetorical effect of the _tu quoque_ form of argument),--"if every sentence uttered by the noble lord opposite in his zeal for liberty had, in days now gone by, been construed with equal rigour, or perverted with equal ingenuity, that noble lord had long since been prosecuted as an incendiary, perhaps executed as a traitor!" Vehement cheers from the ministerial benches; cries of "Order!" from the Opposition. A military lord rose to order, and appealed to the Woolsack.
Lumley sat down as if chafed at the interruption; he had produced the effect he had desired,--he had changed the public question at issue into a private quarrel; a new excitement was created; dust was thrown into the eyes of the House. Several speakers rose to accommodate matters; and after half-an-hour of public time had been properly wasted, the noble lord on the one side and the noble lord on the other duly explained, paid each other the highest possible compliments, and Lumley was left to conclude his vindication, which now seemed a comparatively flat matter after the late explosion. He completed his task so as to satisfy, apparently, all parties--for all parties were now tired of the thing, and wanted to go to bed. But the next morning there were whispers about the town, articles in the different papers, evidently by authority, rejoicings among the Opposition, and a general feeling that though the Government might keep together that session, its dissensions would break out before the next meeting of parliament.
As Lumley was wrapping himself in his cloak after this stormy debate, the Marquess of Raby--a peer of large possessions, and one who entirely agreed with Lumley's views--came up to him, and proposed that they should go home together in Lord Raby's carriage. Vargrave willingly consented, and dismissed his own servants.
"You did that admirably, my dear Vargrave!" said Lord Raby, when they were seated in the carriage. "I quite coincide in all your sentiments; I declare my blood boiled when I heard ----- [the premier] appear half inclined to throw you over. Your hit upon ----- was first-rate,--he will not get over it for a month; and you extricated yourself well."
"I am glad you approve my conduct,--it comforts me," said Vargrave, feelingly; "at the same time I see all the consequences; but I can brave all for the sake of character and conscience."
"I feel just as you do!" replied Lord Raby, with some warmth; "and if I thought that ----- meant to yield to this question, I should certainly oppose his administration."
Vargrave shook his head, and held his tongue, which gave Lord Raby a high idea of his discretion.
After a few more observations on political matters, Lord Raby invited Lumley to pay him a visit at his country-seat.
"I am going to Knaresdean next Monday; you know we have races in the park, and really they are sometimes good sport; at all events, it is a very pretty sight. There will be nothing in the Lords now,--the recess is just at hand; and if you can spare the time, Lady Raby and myself will be delighted to see you."
"You may be sure, my dear lord, I cannot refuse your invitation; indeed, I intended to visit your county next week. You know, perhaps, a Mr. Merton."
"Charles Merton?--to be sure; most respectable man, capital fellow, the best parson in the county,--no cant, but thoroughly orthodox; he certainly keeps in his brother, who, though a very active member, is what I call a waverer on certain questions. Have you known Merton long?"
"I don't know him at all as yet; my acquaintance is with his wife and daughter,--a very fine girl, by the by. My ward, Miss Cameron, is staying with them."
"Miss Cameron! Cameron--ah, I understand. I think I have heard that--But gossip does not always tell the truth!"
Lumley smiled significantly, and the carriage now stopped at his door.
"Perhaps you will take a seat in our carriage on Monday?" said Lord Raby.
"Monday? Unhappily I am engaged; but on Tuesday your lordship may expect me."
"Very well; the races begin on Wednesday: we shall have a full house. Good-night."
CHAPTER V.
HOMUNCULI quanti sunt, cum recogito.*--PLAUTUS.
* "When I reflect, how great your little men are in their own consideration!"
IT is obvious that for many reasons we must be brief upon the political intrigue in which the scheming spirit of Lord Vargrave was employed. It would, indeed, be scarcely possible to preserve the necessary medium between too plain a revelation and too complex a disguise. It suffices, therefore, very shortly to repeat what the reader has already gathered from what has gone before; namely, that the question at issue was one which has happened often enough in all governments,--one on which the Cabinet was divided, and in which the weaker party was endeavouring to out-trick the stronger.
The malcontents, foreseeing that sooner or later the head of the gathering must break, were again divided among themselves whether to resign, or to stay in and strive to force a resignation on their dissentient colleagues. The richer and the more honest were for the former course; the poorer and the more dependent for the latter. We have seen that the latter policy was that espoused and recommended by Vargrave, who, though not in the Cabinet, always contrived somehow or other to worm out its secrets. At the same time he by no means rejected the other string to his bow. If it were possible so to arrange and to strengthen his faction, that, by the _coup d'etat_ of a sudden resignation in a formidable body, the whole Government might be broken up, and a new one formed from among the resignees, it would obviously be the best plan. But then Lord Vargrave was doubtful of his own strength, and fearful to play into the hands of his colleagues, who might be able to stand even better without himself and his allies, and by conciliating the Opposition take a step onward in political movement,--which might leave Vargrave placeless and powerless for years to come.
He repented his own rashness in the recent debate, which was, indeed, a premature boldness that had sprung out of momentary excitement--for the craftiest orator must be indiscreet sometimes. He spent the next few days in alternately seeking to explain away to one party, and to sound, unite, and consolidate the other. His attempts in the one quarter were received by the premier with the cold politeness of an offended but careful statesman, who believed just as much as he chose, and preferred taking his own opportunity for a breach with a subordinate to risking any imprudence by the gratification of resentment. In the last quarter, the penetrating adventurer saw that his ground was more insecure than he had anticipated. He perceived in dismay and secret rage that many of those most loud in his favour while he was with the Government would desert him the soonest if thrown out. Liked as a subordinate minister, he was viewed with very different eyes the moment it was a question whether, instead of cheering his sentiments, men should trust themselves to his guidance. Some did not wish to displease the Government; others did not seek to weaken but to correct them. One of his stanchest allies in the Commons was a candidate for a peerage; another suddenly remembered that he was