"Sorry, my lord," said the officer, "but this time I must arrest you."
The storm of rage rising from that audience was unlike anything Stranleigh had yet heard. The police attempted to hustle their prisoner away, but the pugilist shouted:
"There's no danger!"
"Stay where you are," he roared to the crowd, "and give a cheer for his ludship!" Then he thrust his way among the police, and grasped Stranleigh's hand.
"Pleased to have met you, my lud," he said, in the midst of the cheering. "Do you want me, too?" he asked the officer, who growled:
"Oh, we know where to find you!" and then Stranleigh disappeared from the political arena.
Very few of the British newspapers had a good word to say for Lord Stranleigh next morning, or even an excuse to offer for his conduct. The anti-peer journals were extremely bitter. Was this lunatic to be left longer at liberty merely because he was rich and possessed a title? First, he had endeavoured, with the weight of money, to corrupt those pure angels of light, the speech-making politicians. Finding that impossible, he provoked a public display of brutality such as had not been
