E. Phillips Oppenheim

“ A carriage grated on the road beyond. Strone opened his eyes and saw a brougham and pair leisurely ascending the hill; he watched it with surprise for it was a rough road and seldom used.
It drew level with him, and he became aware of a brilliant vision, a Bond Street toilet, a woman fair and listless, leisurely extending a daintily shod foot to the step of the suddenly checked carriage. He was astonished to find himself the possessor of emotions more fierce and vivid than any he had ever imagined. ”

“ At last the day came when Strone lay on the short turf, smoking quietly, looking out upon the glimmering world with new eyes. Sphinxlike he gazed with an impassivity somewhat to be wondered at, for an hour ago he had finished his task. Those silent days, those long spells of work, when day had become fused into night and night into day, had left their mark upon him. His face was thinner, his eyes almost brilliant, a slight feverishness had flushed his cheeks. The man’s sense of power had grown and deepened. ”

“ A miserable existence begat despair, despair drink, and drink crime. Let them awake from their indifference, their cynicism, or false philosophies, and strike a mighty blow at the great heart of the hideous monster. Life and freedom were gifts common to all. Those who sought to make them a monopoly for the rich must pass through life to the shadow of death with an appalling burden upon their shoulders. ”

“ Day by day he rode backward and forward from his hillside cottage to Gascester, through the misty dawn and the white moonlight. Like a man at bay he fought his madness—he, the grimy mechanic in grease-stained clothing, who had drawn an evil poison into his veins. Heart and soul he flung himself with grim determination into his great work. The wheels of his models whirred and the great pistons throbbed with life. ”

“ Milly, his house at Gascester, his shattered political career, were like dreams, something chimerical, burdens which had fallen away. A rare sense of freedom was upon him. He took long breaths of the clear, bracing air. The place had its old delight for him. He threw himself upon the turf, and closed his eyes. Here at last was peace.
Then the old madness again, burning in his brain, hot in his blood, driving him across the hills, stirring up again the old recklessness, the old wild delight. She was going to marry Lord Sydenham. ”

“ The woman shone out—flamed in her eyes, was manifest in her softened tone.
“It is the toll we all have to pay,” she said. “We expect too much of life. The things which look so beautiful to us when we are hammering at the gates crumble into dust when we have passed through into their midst, and seek to grasp them.”
“Is there nothing in life,” he said, “which is real—which remains?”
She did not answer him, her silence was surely purposeful. She sat with half-closed eyes, as though listening to the music of the breeze-shaken limes, and Strone felt his heart beating madly. ”

“ Make the best of things. There is room for you in great places, Enoch Strone. This generation is empty of strong men. Fill your life with ambitions and remember all those wonderful dreams of yours. Strive to realize them. Tell Milly about them; let her know each day how you are getting on. Come out of the crowd, Enoch, and let me feel that I have known one man in my life, at least, who was strong enough to climb to the hilltop with another’s burden upon his shoulders.”
Under the spell of her words his apathy and indifference gave way. Life was there in her face—in her voice. ”

“ Fagan himself seemed to be contemplating something of the sort.
Strone knew the men and their natures—small, jealous, suspicious. He recognized their point of view, and despised it. He knew in his heart that if these were the prophets whom the great cities had sent to be his coadjutors that the time must come before long when he must choose another party or form one of his own. They were honest men, most of them, but ignorant and prejudiced. They would never prevail against men of trained reasoning power, men of acumen and intelligence. ”

“ If you are not one of those who love their fellow-men, you, at least, have a pity for them so profound that it has become the motif of your life. It is a great cause, yours, Strone. You have made it your own. None but you can do it justice. Think of the submerged millions who have been waiting many years for a prophet to call them up from the depths. ”

“ Man was made for creation, not contemplation. So he turned his eyes upon the new world, and there were big things there to wrestle with. The cry of his fellows was in his ears, the cry of those to whom life was a desert place, the long-drawn-out murmur of the great nether world. Life would be good there where the giants fought. Perhaps some day he might even win forgetfulness.
There followed for Enoch Strone during the three succeeding years all the varied lights that shine on a quick success. ”

“ A father who drank, a mother to be passed over in dark silence, a squalid home, children unwholesome and unmanageable. What a struggle for respectability, and what would be the end of it, he wondered, as the light grew dimmer, the evening insects buzzed around them, and far down in the valley little yellow dots of light leaped into life. ”

“ Strone half closed his eyes. Their thoughts went backward together.
“Tell me,” she murmured, “how does this life compare to you with the old days at Bangdon Wood? You were a man of contemplation—you have become a man of action. Go on, my friend. There is a kingdom before you.”
He turned a weary face upon her.
“These are the things,” he said, “which I have told myself. But, Lady Malingcourt, life has another side, and to go through life without once glancing upon it——”
“Ah, is it worth while?” she interrupted. “What is greater than power?” ”

“ He listened to her with kindling eyes, conscious that the old passion for life was moving once more in his veins—conscious, too, with a certain sense of wonder at the transformation, that this woman, who was pleading with him so earnestly, stood revealed in a wholly new light. ”

“ Night crept apace and brought no abatement in the struggle of the man. Again and again with cameo distinctness he saw Lord Sydenham’s face with its queer incredulous smile when Strone told him of his decision to leave London, and he heard again as though they were there spoken the older man’s reply uttered with a note of anger in his thin well-modulated voice. ”

“ A transformation. Something had found its way into Milly’s heart and stirred up all the good that was there into vigorous life. In her eager, tear-dimmed eyes he saw something shining which altered forever his point of view. He was bewildered. What was this thing which he had had in his mind! Yesterday seemed far away; the thought of it made him shudder. But what had come to Milly? He reached out his hand. Their eyes met, and he understood. A new sense of humanity brought man and woman into a wonderful kinship. He opened his arms, and Milly crept into them with a little sob of content. ”

“ Near at hand was the rustling of the evening wind in the large-leafed lime trees, the faintly drawn-out music of a violin from one of the adjoining houses.
“Tell me,” she asked suddenly—“about your wife. Does she like London? Is she interested in your work?”
A curious restraint—almost a nervousness—fell upon them both.
“I do not think that she is,” he answered. “London does not suit her very well. She is not quick at making acquaintances.”
He did not allude to her again, nor did she. The vision of Milly rose up before him as he had seen her last. ”

“ Strone knew that certain lofty dreams of his, as yet but dimly conceived, but gaining for themselves power and reality every day, could never be realized with the aid of such as these. The crusade must be among the thinking men and women of the world. Hyde Park oratory and all akin to it was a useless power. Personal influence, the reviews, the conversion, one by one, of those who led the world in thought, these must be the means whereby his cause would be won. These men only cumbered the way, brought disrepute upon a glorious cause. ”

“ Lady Malingcourt had drawn herself up, and a bright spot of color burned in her cheeks.
“That you are a mechanic,” she said, “makes you, to be candid, more interesting to me. Nothing in your circumstances would have made your feeling toward me anything but an honor. It is as a man that you fail. Your standard of life is one which I could not possibly accept. ”

“ I do not believe that any class of men in the world are so girt about with prejudices as those whose eyes have been opened a little way. But, after all, they each have a vote, and as parties are at present they are an immensely powerful factor in the situation.”
“That,” she said, “is only a temporary matter, a matter of weeks or months. After all, you must remember they are an isolated body of men in the House. Your place is with the only great party of progress. You are moving toward them day by day. ”

“ I only care for money for what it may bring me. You once said that the millionaire is all-powerful.”
“Did I?” she answered. “That, of course, was an exaggeration.”
He rose suddenly to his feet, a flush in his cheeks, his tone husky. He stood over her, his hand on the back of her seat, his eyes seeking to penetrate the graceful nonchalance of her tone and manner.
“Lady Malingcourt,” he said, “there is one thing in the world—perhaps I am mad to dream of it—I know I am, but if ever I had the smallest chance of gaining it, there is nothing I would not attempt, nothing I would not do.” ”

“ People expect you to play croquet or smell flowers, and have tea out of doors. So extraordinary. Life seems made up of people who live in London and have houses in the country, and people who live in the country and have houses in London. Such a wonderful difference, isn’t there?”
“I suppose so,” he answered.
Then there was a short silence. It was an event, this, so bewildering, so unexpected, that Strone was unable to recover himself. A new shyness held him speechless. Lady Malingcourt, who was wondering now if she rightly understood it, did nothing to help him. ”

“ Lady Malingcourt said coldly. “You can never make her fit. I think that you would be justified in ignoring her claim upon you. There are limits to one’s responsibility.”
“These,” he said, “are your conditions?”
“Yes.”
He drew near to her. The struggle of the last few months seemed lined into his face.
“Listen,” he said. “I want to be honest—to you. I can’t see it any way but this. There’s the woman and all the great underneath millions I wanted to help on one side—and on the other—you.”
“No,” she interrupted. “Your life’s work was never meant to be in Gascester. ”

“ There is no difference between your world and mine whatever, except that a mechanic is often a gentleman, and gentle people are often snobs. You are wonderfully modest to-day, Mr. Strone. I had an idea that people with brains like yours considered themselves very superior to the mere butterflies of life.”
“I am speaking as I feel,” he answered. “I have tried to make myself think differently, but it is impossible. One can’t ignore facts, Lady Malingcourt, and when I am with you I feel rough, and coarse, and ignorant ”

“ When at last, and with a certain abruptness, he resumed his seat, there reigned for several moments a respectful and marvelous silence. Then a storm of cheering broke the tension, cheering from all parts of the House, led by the prime minister, joined in by the leader of the opposition. Strone gained much for his cause that night—his own reputation he made forever. He had become a power among strong men. ”

“ The advent of the Liberal Unionists into our ranks was the consummation of what was fast becoming inevitable. To-day it is the Conservative party who are the party of progress. It is the party to which you must naturally belong.”
“In the event of your refusal, let me ask you seriously whether you realize what you are doing. You have rare gifts—you have all the qualities of the successful politician. I offer you a firm footing upon the ladder—your ascent is a certainty. I will not appeal to your personal ambition. I appeal to your religion.”
Strone looked up with a queer smile. ”

“ Your cause will not be the loser, Mr. Strone. If it costs me a year’s income, I will mend my ways.”
Strone had embarked upon a career in which reputations are swiftly made and lost. His own never wavered from the night of his first great speech. Chance made his little party a very important factor in the political history of the next few months. Chance also made his own share in the struggle a great and arduous one. For this little handful of men sent to represent the vast interests of the democracy were mostly of the type of Fagan and his class. ”

“ A miserable region of smoke-begrimed houses and small shops, an unattractive public house at every corner, round which loafed men with the white faces of tired animals, and women dragging babies and shouting abuse to their more venturesome offspring. ”

“ Stop and make yourself some tea.”
“If you’re away I’ll wait,” she answered. “I shan’t want any tea.”
He started her off, and trudged homeward with a sense of unaccountable relief. He felt stifled, vaguely troubled by the memory of the girl’s white face and pleading brown eyes. Then a nightingale sang to him. At once his mind was swept bare of all such thoughts. Once more the pine and the clover-scented air around him seemed quivering with strange and passionate music.
That night in the grounds of Lingford Grange the man stood like a statue, half invisible among the shadows. ”

“ His common sense mocked at him but the madness was there like a thrall.
He walked over to the vicarage, where he had spent so many hours of late. She was out. He waited. When he heard her carriage stop, the trailing of her skirt as she crossed the lawn, he rose up and went to meet her.
“John leads a lonely life out here,” she said presently. “I hope you will remember that, and come and see him often when I am gone.” ”

“ During this period the calls of home and friendship were many, yet he moved through it all singularly unspoilt, impersonally attending in an official capacity only the brilliant dinners and social gathering where he found himself a man among men, but which threw into cruel relief the atmosphere of his own home. Wherever he went Strone was treated with much deference, for he was without doubt in the political world a person of some importance. ”

“ He watched the carriage until it was out of sight.
All the rest of the afternoon he lay on the warm turf above the cottage smoking fiercely, and reading Heine. Then a gate slammed. The book slipped from his fingers. He sat up, listening, his heart beating thickly, his eyes ablaze. It was a woman who came into sight, but a woman in an ill-hanging skirt, pushing a cheap bicycle, a woman hot and dusty with riding. He ground his heel upon his feeling of sickly disappointment. This was better for him. He rose and went to meet her—took the bicycle ”