"Let us throw in our shells, by all means," says Mr. Supplehouse, mindful as Juno of his despised charms. And when Mr. Supplehouse declares himself an enemy, men know how much it means. They know that that much-belaboured head of affairs must succumb to the terrible blows which are now in store for him. "Yes, we will throw in our shells." And Mr. Supplehouse rises from his chair with gleaming eyes. "Has not Greece as noble sons as him? ay, and much nobler, traitor that he is. We must judge a man by his friends," says Mr. Supplehouse; and he points away to the East, where our dear allies the French are supposed to live, and where our head of affairs is supposed to have too close an intimacy.
They all understand this, even Mr. Green Walker. "I don't know that he is any good to any of us at all, now," says the talented member for the Crewe Junction. "He's a great deal too uppish to suit my book; and I know a great many people that think so too. There's my uncle"
"He's the best fellow in the world," said Mr. Fothergill, who felt, perhaps, that that coming revelation about Mr. Green Walker's uncle might not be of use to them; "but the fact is one gets tired of the same man always. One does not like partridge every day. As for me, I have nothing to do with it myself; but I would certainly like to change the dish."
"If we're merely to do as we are bid, and have no voice of our own, I don't see what's the good of going to the shop at all," said Mr. Sowerby.
"Not the least use," said Mr. Supplehouse. "We are false to our constituents in submitting to such a dominion."
"Let's have a change, then," said Mr. Sowerby. "The matter's pretty much in our own hands."
"Altogether," said Mr. Green Walker. "That's what my uncle always says."
"The Manchester men will only be too happy for the chance," said Harold Smith.
"And as for the high and dry gentlemen," said Mr. Sowerby, "it's not very likely that they will object to pick up the fruit when we shake the tree."
"As to picking up the fruit, that's as may be," said Mr. Supplehouse. Was he not the man to save the nation; and if so, why should he not pick up the fruit himself? Had not the greatest power in the country pointed him out as such a saviour? What though the country at the present moment needed no more saving, might there not nevertheless be a good time coming? Were there not rumours of other wars still prevalent—if indeed the actual war then going on was being brought to a close without his assistance, by some other species of salvation? He thought of that country to which he had pointed, and of that friend of his enemies, and remembered that there might be still work for a mighty saviour. The public mind was now awake, and understood what it was about. When a man gets into his head an idea that the public voice calls for him, it is astonishing how great becomes his trust in the wisdom of the public. Vox
