“Well I had not thought of that. I only kept back the page for the mere fun of the thing; but since you mention it, I don’t know but I might do something if I were angry.”
“My dear Miss Hawkins, if you were to give out that you composed my speech, you know very well that people would say it was only your raillery, your fondness for putting a victim in the pillory and amusing the public at his expense. It is too flimsy, Miss Hawkins, for a person of your fine inventive talent — contrive an abler device than that. Come!”
“It is easily done, Mr. Trollop. I will hire a man, and pin this page on his breast, and label it, ‘The Missing Fragment of the Hon. Mr. Trollop’s Great Speech — which speech was written and composed by Miss Laura Hawkins under a secret understanding for one hundred dollars — and the money has not been paid.’ And I will pin round about it notes in my handwriting, which I will procure from prominent friends of mine for the occasion; also your printed speech in the Globe, showing the connection between its bracketed hiatus and my Fragment; and I give you my word of honor that I will stand that human bulletin board in the rotunda of the capitol and make him stay there a week! You see you are premature, Mr. Trollop, the wonderful tragedy is not done yet, by any means. Come, now, doesn’t it improve?”
Mr Trollop opened his eyes rather widely at this novel aspect of the case. He got up and walked the floor and gave himself a moment for reflection. Then he stopped and studied Laura’s face a while, and ended by saying:
“Well, I am obliged to believe you would be reckless enough to do that.”
“Then don’t put me to the test, Mr. Trollop. But let’s drop the matter. I have had my joke and you’ve borne the infliction becomingly enough. It spoils a jest to harp on it after one has had one’s laugh. I would much rather talk about my bill.”
“So would I, now, my clandestine amanuensis. Compared with some other subjects, even your bill is a pleasant topic to discuss.”
“Very good indeed! I thought I could persuade you. Now I am sure you will be generous to the poor negro and vote for that bill.”
“Yes, I feel more tenderly toward the oppressed colored man than I did. Shall we bury the hatchet and be good friends and respect each other’s little secrets, on condition that I vote Aye on the measure?”
“With all my heart, Mr. Trollop. I give you my word of that.”
“It is a bargain. But isn’t there something else you could give me, too?”
Laura looked at him inquiringly a moment, and then she comprehended.
“Oh, yes! You may have it now. I haven’t any more use for it.” She picked up the page of manuscript, but she reconsidered her intention of handing it to him, and said, “But never mind; I will keep it close; no one shall see it; you shall have it as soon as your vote is recorded.”
Mr. Trollop looked disappointed. But presently made his adieux, and had got as far as the hall, when something occurred to Laura. She said to herself, “I don’t simply want his vote under compulsion — he might vote aye, but work against the bill in secret, for revenge; that man is unscrupulous enough to do anything. I must have his hearty cooperation as well as his vote. There is only one way to get that.”
She called him back, and said:
“I value your vote, Mr. Trollop, but I value your influence more. You are able to help a measure along in many ways, if you choose. I want to ask you to work for the bill as well as vote for it.”
“It takes so much of one’s time, Miss Hawkins — and time is money, you know.”
“Yes, I know it is — especially in Congress. Now there is no use in you and I dealing in pretenses and going at matters in roundabout ways. We know each other — disguises are nonsense. Let us be plain. I will make it an object to you to work for the bill.”
“Don’t make it unnecessarily plain, please. There are little proprieties that are best preserved. What do you propose?”
“Well, this.” She mentioned the names of several prominent Congressmen.
“Now,” said she, “these gentlemen are to vote and work for the bill, simply out of love for the negro — and out of pure generosity I have put in a relative of each as a member of the University incorporation. They will handle a million or so of money, officially, but will receive no salaries. A larger number of statesmen are to vote and work for the bill — also out of love for the negro — gentlemen of but moderate influence, these — and out of pure generosity I am to see that relatives of theirs have positions in the University, with salaries, and good ones, too. You will vote and work for the bill, from mere affection for the negro, and I desire to testify my gratitude becomingly. Make free choice. Have you any friend whom you would like to present with a salaried or unsalaried position in our institution?”
“Well, I have a brother-in-law — ”
“That same old brother-in-law, you good unselfish provider! I have heard of him often, through my agents. How regularly he does ‘turn up,’ to be sure. He could deal with those millions virtuously, and withal with ability, too — but of course you would rather he had a salaried position?”
“Oh, no,” said the gentleman, facetiously, “we are very humble, very humble in our desires; we want no money; we labor solely, for our country and require no reward but the luxury of an applauding conscience. Make him one of those poor hard working unsalaried corporators and let him do every body good with those millions — and go hungry himself! I will try to exert a little influence in favor of the bill.”
Arrived at home, Mr. Trollop sat down and thought it all over — something after this fashion: it is about the shape it might have taken if he had spoken it aloud.
“My reputation is getting a little damaged, and I meant to clear it up brilliantly with an exposure of this bill at the supreme moment, and ride back into Congress on the eclat of it; and if I had that bit of manuscript, I would do it yet. It would be more money in my pocket in the end, than my brother-in-law will get out of that incorporatorship, fat as it is. But that sheet of paper is out of my reach — she will never let that get out of her hands. And what a mountain it is! It blocks up my road, completely. She was going to hand it to me, once. Why didn’t she! Must be a deep woman. Deep devil! That is what she is; a beautiful devil — and perfectly fearless, too. The idea of her pinning that paper on a man and standing him up in the rotunda looks absurd at a first glance. But she would do it! She is capable of doing anything. I went there hoping she would try to bribe me — good solid capital that would be in the exposure. Well, my prayer was answered; she did try to bribe me; and I made the best of a bad bargain and let her. I am checkmated. I must contrive something fresh to get back to Congress on. Very well; a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush; I will work for the bill — the incorporatorship will be a very good thing.”
As soon as Mr. Trollop had taken his leave, Laura ran to Senator Dilworthy and began to speak, but he interrupted her and said distressfully, without even turning from his writing to look at her:
“Only half an hour! You gave it up early, child. However, it was best, it was best — I’m sure it was best — and safest.”
“Give it up! I!”
The Senator sprang up, all aglow:
“My child, you can’t mean that you — ”
“I’ve made him promise on honor to think about a compromise tonight and come and tell me his decision in the morning.”
“Good! There’s hope yet that — ”
“Nonsense, uncle. I’ve made him engage to let the Tennessee Land bill utterly alone!”
“Impossible! You — ”
“I’ve made him promise to vote with us!”
“INCREDIBLE!