A PEOPLE'S MAN
 
 " We have always believed that wiute roses bring happiness." 
 Page 67.
 
 A Peoples Man 
 
 By E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM 
 
 Author of "The Tempting of Tavernake," "The Mis- 
 chief Maker," "Peter Ruff and the 
 Double Four," Etc. 
 
 With Four Illustrations by ,- 
 EDMUND FREDERICK 
 
 A. L BURT COMPANY, PUBLISHERS 
 
 114-120 East Twenty-third Street - - New York 
 
 PUBLISHED BY ARRANGEMENT WITH LITTLF, BROWN & COMPANY
 
 Copyright, 1914, 
 J3r LITTLE, BROWN, AND 
 
 All rights reserved
 
 SRLF 
 
 URL 
 
 The characters in this story 
 are entirely imaginary.
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 " Maraton has come ! Maraton ! Maraton is 
 here!" 
 
 Across Soho, threading his way with devilish inge- 
 nuity through mazes of narrow streets, scattering 
 with his hooter little groups of gibbering, swarthy 
 foreigners, Aaron Thurnbrein, bent double over his 
 ancient bicycle, sped on his way towards the Com- 
 mercial Road and eastwards. With narrow cheeks 
 smeared with dust, yellow teeth showing behind his 
 parted lips, through which the muttered words came 
 with uneven vehemence, ragged clothes, a ragged 
 handkerchief around his neck, a greasy cap upon his 
 head this messenger, charged with great tidings, 
 proclaimed himself, by his visible existence, one of 
 the submerged clinging to his last spar, fighting still 
 with hands which beat the air, yet carrying the 
 undaunted light of battle in his blazing eyes, deep- 
 sunken, almost cavernous, the last refuge, perhaps, 
 of that ebbing life. Drops of perspiration were 
 upon his forehead, his breath came hard and pain- 
 fully. Before he had reached his destination, one 
 could almost hear the rattle in his throat. He even 
 staggered as at last he dropped from his bicycle and,
 
 2 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 wheeling it across a broad pavement, left it reclining 
 against a box of apples exposed in front of a small 
 greengrocer's shop. 
 
 The neighbourhood was ugly and dirty, the shop 
 was ugly and dirty. The interior into which he 
 passed was dark, odoriferous, bare of stock, poverty- 
 smitten. A woman, lean, hard-featured, with thin 
 grey hair disordered and unkempt, looked up quickly 
 at his coming and as quickly down again. Her face 
 was perhaps too lifeless to express any emotion what- 
 soever, but there might have been a shade of disap- 
 pointment in the swift withdrawal of her gaze. A 
 customer would have been next door to a miracle, 
 but hope dies hard. 
 
 " You ! " she muttered. " What are you bothering 
 about? " 
 
 " I want David," Aaron Thurnbrein panted. " I 
 have news! Is he behind?" 
 
 The woman moved away to let him pass. 
 
 " He is behind," she answered, in a dull, lifeless 
 tone. " Since you took him with you to Bermondsey, 
 he does no work. What does it matter? We starve 
 a little sooner. Take him to another meeting, if you 
 will. I'd rather you taught him how to steal. There's 
 rest in the prisons, at least." 
 
 Aaron Thurnbrein brushed past her, inattentive, 
 unlistening. She was not amongst those who 
 counted. He pushed open an ill-fitting door, whose 
 broken glass top was stuffed with brown paper. 
 The room within was almost horrible in its meagre- 
 ness. The floor was uncarpeted, the wall unpapered. 
 In a three-legged chair drawn up to the table, with
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 3 
 
 paper before him and a pencil in his hand, sat David 
 Ross. He looked up at the panting intruder, only to 
 glower. 
 
 "What do you want, boy?" he asked pettishly. 
 " I am at work. I need these figures. I am to speak 
 to-night at Poplar." 
 
 " Put them away ! " Aaron Thurnbrein cried. 
 " Soon you and I will be needed no more. A greater 
 than we have known is here here in London ! " 
 
 The older man looked up, for a moment, as though 
 puzzled. Then a light broke suddenly across his 
 face, a light which seemed somehow to become re- 
 flected in the face of the starveling youth. 
 
 " Maraton ! " he almost shrieked. 
 
 " Maraton ! " the other echoed. " He is here in 
 London ! " 
 
 The face of the older man twitched with excite- 
 ment. 
 
 " But they will arrest him ! " 
 
 " If they dared," Aaron Thurnbrein declared 
 harshly, " a jnillion of us would tear him out of 
 prison. But they will not. Maraton is too clever. 
 America has not even asked for extradition. For our 
 sakes he keeps within the law. He is here in Lon- 
 don ! He is stripped for the fight ! " 
 
 David Ross rose heavily to his feet. One saw 
 then that he was not really old. Starvation and ill- 
 health had branded him with premature age. He was 
 not thin but the flesh hung about him in folds. His 
 cheeks were puffy; his long, hairy eyebrows drooped 
 down from his massive forehead. There was the 
 look about him of a strong man gone to seed.
 
 4 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 " They will be all around him like flies over a car- 
 cass ! " he muttered. 
 
 " Mr. Foley Foley the Prime Minister 
 sent for him directly he arrived," Aaron Thurnbrein 
 announced. " He is to see him to-night at his own 
 house in Downing Street. It makes no difference." 
 
 " Who can tell ? " the other remarked despondently. 
 " The pages of history are littered with the bodies 
 of strong men who have opened their lips to the poi- 
 soned spoon." 
 
 Aaron Thurnbrein spat upon the floor. 
 
 " There is but one Maraton," he cried fervently. 
 " There has been but one since the world was shaped. 
 He is come, and the first step towards our deliverance 
 is at hand." 
 
 The older man, whose trembling fingers still rested 
 upon the sheets of paper, looked at his visitor curi- 
 ously. 
 
 " You are a Jew," he muttered. " Why do you 
 worship Maraton? He is not of your race." 
 
 The young man's gesture was almost sublime. 
 
 "Jew or Christian what does it matter?" he 
 demanded. " I am a Jew. What has my religion 
 done for me? Nothing! I am a free man in my 
 thoughts. I am one of the oppressed. Men or 
 women, Jews or Christians, infidels or believers 
 what does it matter? We are those who have been 
 broken upon the wheel. Deliverance for us will come 
 too late. We fight for those who will follow. It is 
 Maraton who points towards the light. It is Maraton 
 whose hand shall press the levers which shall set the 
 kingdoms rocking. I tell you that our own country,
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 5 
 
 even, may bite the dust a conqueror's hand lay 
 heavy upon her throat ; and yet, no matter. Through 
 the valley of fire and blood and pestilence one 
 must pass through these to the great white land." 
 
 " Amen ! " David Ross cried fervently. " The 
 gift is upon you to-day, Aaron. Amen ! " 
 
 The two stood together for a moment, speechless, 
 carried away out of themselves. Then the door was 
 suddenly opened. The woman stood there, sour and 
 withered; behind her, a hard-featured man, official, 
 malevolent. 
 
 " We are for the streets ! " the woman exclaimed 
 harshly. " He's got the order." 
 
 " Three pounds thirteen or out you go," the man 
 announced, pushing his way forward. " Here's the 
 paper." 
 
 David Ross looked at him as one awakened from 
 a dream. 
 
 " Evicted ! " 
 
 " And d d well time, too ! " the newcomer con- 
 tinued. " You've had all the chance in the world. 
 How do you expect to make a living, fiddling about 
 here all day with pencil and paper, and talking Social- 
 ist rot at night? Leave that chair alone and be off, 
 both of you." 
 
 They glanced despairingly towards Aaron Thurn- 
 brein. He thrust his hands into his pockets and 
 exposed them with a little helpless gesture. The 
 coins he produced were of copper. The official 
 looked at them and around the place with a grin of 
 contempt. 
 
 " Cut it short," he ordered. " Clear out."
 
 6 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 " There's my bicycle," Aaron Thurnbrein said 
 slowly. 
 
 They all looked at him the woman and the man 
 with nervous anxiety, the official with a flicker of 
 interest. Aaron Thurnbrein drew a little sigh. 
 The bicycle had been earned by years of strenuous 
 toil. It was almost a necessity of his existence. 
 
 " Aaron's bicycle," David Ross muttered. " No, 
 no ! That must not be. Let us go to the streets." 
 
 But the woman did not move. Already the young 
 man had wheeled it into the shop. 
 
 "Take it," he insisted. "What does it matter? 
 Maraton is here ! " 
 
 Away again, this time on foot, along the sun-baked 
 pavements, through courts and alleys into a narrow, 
 busy street in the neighbourhood of Shoreditch. He 
 stopped at last before a factory and looked tenta- 
 tively up at the windows. Through the opened panes 
 came the constant click of sewing machines, the 
 smell of cloth, the vision of many heads bent over 
 their work. He stood where he was for a time and 
 watched. The place was like a hive of industry. 
 Row after row of girls were there, seated side by 
 side, round-shouldered, bending over their machines, 
 looking neither to the right nor to the left, struggling 
 to keep up to time to make sure of the wage which 
 was life or death to them. It was nothing to them 
 that above the halo of smoke the sky was blue; or 
 that away beyond the murky horizon, the sun, which 
 here in the narrow street seemed to have drawn all 
 life from the air, was shining on yellow cornfields 
 bending before the west wind. Here there was sim-
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 7 
 
 ply an intolerable heat, a smell of fish and a smell 
 of cloth. 
 
 Aaron Thurnbrein crossed the street, entered the 
 unimposing doorway and knocked at the door which 
 led into the busy but unassuming offices. A small 
 boy threw open a little glass window and looked at 
 him doubtfully. 
 
 " I don't know that you can see Miss Thurnbrein 
 even for a minute," he declared, in answer to Aaron's 
 confident enquiry. " It's our busiest time. What 
 do you want ? " 
 
 " I am her brother," Aaron announced. " It is 
 most important." 
 
 The boy slipped from a worn stool and disap- 
 peared. Presently the door of the little waiting-room 
 was suddenly opened, and a girl entered. 
 
 " Aaron ! " she exclaimed. " Has anything hap- 
 pened? " 
 
 Once more he raised his head, once more the light 
 that flickered in his face transformed him into some 
 semblance of a virile man. 
 
 *' Maraton is here ! Maraton has arrived ! " 
 
 The light flashed, too, for a moment in her face, 
 only she, even before it came, was beautiful. 
 
 " At last ! " she cried. " At last ! Have you seen 
 him, Aaron ? Tell me quickly, what is he like ? " 
 
 " Not yet," Aaron replied. " To-night they say 
 that he goes first to visit the Prime Minister. He 
 will come to us afterwards." 
 
 " It is great news," she murmured. " If only one 
 could see him ! " 
 
 The office boy reappeared.
 
 8 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 " Guvnor says why aren't you at your work, Miss 
 Thurnbrein," he remarked, as he climbed on to his 
 stool. " You won't get through before closing time, 
 as it is." 
 
 She turned reluctantly away. There was some- 
 thing in her face from which even Aaron could 
 scarcely remove his eyes. 
 
 " I must go," she declared. " We are busy here, 
 and so many of the girls are away down with the 
 heat, I suppose. Thank you for coming, Aaron." 
 
 " I would like," he answered, " to walk the streets 
 of London one by one, and stand at the corners and 
 shout to the passers-by that Maraton has come. 
 Only I wonder if they would understand. I won- 
 der!" 
 
 He passed out into the street and the girl returned 
 to her work. After a few yards he felt suddenly 
 giddy. There was a little enclosure across the road, 
 called by courtesy a playground a few benches, a 
 dusty space, and some swings. He threw himself 
 into a corner of one of the benches and closed his 
 eyes. He was worn out, physically exhausted. Yet 
 all the time the sense of something wonderful kept 
 him from collapse. Maraton had come!
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 * 
 
 Westward, the late June twilight deepened into a 
 violet and moonless darkness. The lights in St. 
 James's Park glittered like motionless fireflies ; a 
 faint wind rustled amongst the drooping leaves of 
 the trees. Up here the atmosphere was different. 
 It seemed a long way from Shoreditch. 
 
 Outside the principal of the official residences in 
 Downing Street, there was a tented passage-way and 
 a strip of drugget across the pavement. Within, the 
 large reception rooms were crowded with men and 
 women. There was music, and many forms of enter- 
 tainment were in progress; the popping of cham- 
 pagne corks; the constant murmur of cheerful con- 
 versation. The Prime Minister was giving a great 
 political reception, and men and women of every 
 degree and almost every nationality were talking and 
 mingling together. The gathering was necessarily 
 not select, but it was composed of people who 
 counted. The Countess of Grenside, who was the 
 Prime Minister's sister and the head of his household, 
 saw to that. 
 
 They stood together at the head of the staircase, 
 a couple curiously unlike not only in appearance but 
 in disposition and tastes. Lady Grenside was tall 
 and fair, almost florid in complexion, remarkably 
 well-preserved, with a splendid presence and figure.
 
 io A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 She had been one of the beauties of her day, and even 
 now, in the sixth year of her widowhood, was accounted 
 a remarkably handsome woman. Mr. Foley, her 
 brother, was also tall, but gaunt and thin, with a pro- 
 nounced stoop. His grey imperial gave him an 
 almost foreign appearance. He had the forehead 
 of a philosopher but the mouth of a humourist. His 
 eyes, shrewd and penetrating he wore no glasses 
 although he was nearly sixty years of age were 
 perhaps his best feature. 
 
 " Tell me, my dear Stephen," she asked, as the 
 tide of incoming guests finally ceased and they found 
 themselves at liberty, " why are you looking so dis- 
 turbed? It seems to me that every one has arrived 
 who ought to come, and judging by the noise they 
 are making, every one is thoroughly enjoying them- 
 selves. Why are people so noisy nowadays, I 
 wonder? " 
 
 Mr. Foley smiled. 
 
 " What an observant person you are ! To tell you 
 the truth, there was just one guest whom I was par- 
 ticularly anxious to see here to-night. He promised 
 to come, but so far I am afraid that he has not 
 arrived." 
 
 " Not that awful man Maraton ? " 
 
 He nodded. 
 
 ** No use calling him names, Catharine," he con- 
 tinued grimly. " Maraton is one of the most im- 
 portant problems we have to face within the next 
 few weeks. I suppose there is no chance of his 
 having slipped in without our having noticed him? " 
 
 Lady Grenside shook her head.
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN n 
 
 *' I should imagine not. I am quite sure that I 
 haven't shaken hands to-night with any one who 
 reminded me in the least of what this man must be. 
 Very likely Elisabeth will discover him if he is here. 
 She has just gone off on one of her tours of inspec- 
 tion." 
 
 Mr. Foley shrugged his shoulders. He was, after 
 all, a philosopher. 
 
 " I am afraid Elisabeth won't get very far," he 
 remarked. " Carton was in her train, and Ellison 
 and Aubrey weren't far behind. She is really quite 
 wonderful. I never in all my life saw any one look 
 so beautiful as she does to-night." 
 
 Lady Grenside made a little grimace as she laid 
 her fingers upon her brother's arm and pointed 
 towards an empty settee close at hand. 
 
 " Beautiful, yes," she sighed, " but oh, so diffi- 
 cult!" 
 
 Almost at that moment, Elisabeth had paused on 
 her way through the furthest of the three crowded 
 rooms and Maraton, happening simultaneously to 
 glance in her direction, their eyes met. They were 
 both above the average height, so they looked at one 
 another over the heads of many people, and in both 
 their faces was something of the same expression 
 the faint interest born of a relieved monotony. The 
 girl deliberately turned towards him. He was an 
 unknown guest and alone. There were times when 
 her duties came quite easily. 
 
 " I am afraid that you are not amusing yourself,"
 
 12 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 she remarked, with some faint yet kindly note of 
 condescension in her tone. 
 
 " You are very kind," he answered, his eyebrows 
 slightly lifted. " I certainly am not. But then I 
 did not come here to amuse myself." 
 
 " Indeed? A sense of duty brought you, per- 
 haps?" 
 
 " A sense of duty, beyond a doubt," the man as- 
 sented politely. 
 
 She felt like passing on but she also felt like 
 staying, so she stayed. 
 
 " Cannot I help you towards the further accom- 
 plishment of your duty, then? " she enquired. 
 
 He looked at her and the grim severity of his face 
 was lightened by a smile. 
 
 " You could help me more easily to forget it," he 
 replied. 
 
 She opened her lips, hesitated and closed them 
 again. Already she had recognised the fact that 
 this was not a man to be snubbed. Neither had she, 
 notwithstanding her momentary irritation, any real 
 desire to do so. 
 
 " You do not know many people here ? " 
 
 " I know no one," he confessed. 
 
 " I am Elisabeth Landon," she told him. " Mr. 
 Foley is my uncle. My mother and I live with him 
 and always help him to entertain." 
 
 " Hence your interest in a lonely stranger," he 
 remarked. " Please have no qualms about me. I 
 am always interested when I am permitted to watch 
 my fellow creatures, especially when the types are 
 novel to me."
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 13 
 
 She looked at him searchingly for a moment. As 
 yet she had not succeeded in placing him. His fea- 
 tures were large but well-shaped, his cheek-bones a 
 little high, his forehead massive, his deep-set eyes 
 bright and marvellously penetrating. He had a 
 mouth long and firm, with a slightly humorous twist 
 at the corners. His hair was black and plentiful. 
 He might have been of any age between thirty-five 
 and forty. His limbs and body were powerful; his 
 head was set with the poise of an emperor. His 
 clothes were correct and well worn, he was entirely 
 at his ease. Yet Elisabeth, who was an observant 
 person, looked at him and wondered. He would have 
 been more at home, she thought, out in the storms 
 of life than in her uncle's drawing-rooms. Yet what 
 was he? He lacked the trimness of the soldier; of 
 the debonair smartness of the modern fighting man 
 there was no trace whatsoever in his speech or appear- 
 ance. The politicians who were likely to be present 
 she knew. What was there left? An explorer, per- 
 haps, or a colonial. Her curiosity became imperious. 
 
 " You have not told me your name," she reminded 
 him. 
 
 " My name is Maraton," he replied, a little grimly. 
 
 " You Maraton ! " 
 
 There was a brief silence not without a certain 
 dramatic significance to the girl who stood there 
 with slightly parted lips. The smooth serenity of 
 her forehead was broken by a frown; her beautiful 
 blue eyes were troubled. She seemed somehow to 
 have dilated, to have drawn herself up. Her air of 
 politeness, half gracious, half condescending, had
 
 i 4 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 vanished. It was as though in spirit she were pre- 
 paring for battle. 
 
 " You seem to have heard of me,'* he remarked 
 drily. 
 
 " Who has not heard of you ! " she answered in a 
 low tone. " I am sorry. You have made me break 
 my word." 
 
 " I? " 
 
 She was recovering herself now. A certain icy 
 aloofness seemed to have crept into her manner. Her 
 head was held at a different angle. Even the words 
 seemed to leave her lips differently. Her tone was 
 one of measured indignation. 
 
 " Yes, you ! When Mr. Foley told me that he had 
 asked you to come here to-night, I vowed that I 
 would not speak to you." 
 
 " A perfectly reasonable decision," he agreed, 
 without the slightest change of expression, " but am 
 I really to be blamed for this unfortunate incident? 
 You cannot say that I thrust myself upon your 
 notice." 
 
 His eyebrows were ever so slightly uplifted. She 
 was not absolutely sure that there was not some- 
 thing very suggestive of amusement in his deep-set 
 eyes. She bit her lip. Naturally he was not a gen- 
 tleman ! 
 
 " I thought that you were a neglected guest," she 
 explained coldly. " I do not understand how it is 
 that you have managed to remain undiscovered." 
 
 He shook his head doubtfully. 
 
 " I made my entrance with the others. I saw a 
 very charming lady at the head of the stairs your
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 15 
 
 mother, I believe who gave me her fingers and 
 called me Mr. Martin. Your uncle shook hands 
 with me, looking over my head to welcome some one 
 behind. I passed on with the rest. The fault re- 
 mains, beyond a doubt, with your majordomo and 
 my uncommon name." 
 
 " Since I have discovered you, then," she declared, 
 " you had better let me take you to my uncle. He 
 has been looking everywhere for you for the last 
 hour. We will go this way." 
 
 She laid the extreme tips of her fingers upon his 
 coat sleeve. He glanced down at them for a mo- 
 ment. Her reluctance was evident. 
 
 " Perhaps," he suggested coolly, " we should make 
 faster progress if I were to follow you." 
 
 She took no further notice of him for some time. 
 Then very suddenly she drew him to one side out of 
 the throng, into an almost empty anteroom a dis- 
 mal little apartment lined with shelves full of blue 
 books and Parliamentary records. 
 
 " I am content to obey my guide," he remarked, 
 '* but why this abrupt flight? " 
 
 She hesitated. Then she raised her eyes and 
 looked at him. Perhaps some instinct told her that 
 the truth was best. 
 
 " Because Mr. Culvain was in that crowd," she 
 told him. " Mr. Culvain has been looking for you 
 everywhere. It is only to see you that he came here 
 this evening. My uncle is anxious to talk with you 
 first." 
 
 " I am flattered," he murmured, smiling. 
 
 " I think that you should be," she asserted.
 
 i5 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 " Personally, I do not understand my uncle's atti- 
 tude." 
 
 " With regard to me? " 
 
 " With regard to you." 
 
 " You think, perhaps, that I should not be per- 
 mitted here at all as a guest ? " 
 
 " I do think that," she replied, looking steadily 
 into his eyes. " I think more than that. I think 
 that your place is in Sing Sing prison." 
 
 The corners of his mouth twitched. His amuse- 
 ment maddened her; her eyes flashed. Underneath 
 her white satin gown her bosom was rising and fall- 
 ing quickly. 
 
 He became suddenly grave. 
 
 " Do you take life seriously, Lady Elisabeth ? " 
 he asked. 
 
 " Certainly," she answered firmly. " I do not 
 think that human life is a thing to be trifled with. 
 I agree with the Times." 
 
 " In what it said about me? " 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 " And what was that? It is neglectful of me, I 
 know, but I never see the Times." 
 
 " It held you entirely responsible for the death 
 of those poor men in Chicago," she told him. " It 
 named you as their murderer." 
 
 " A very sensible paper, the Times," he agreed. 
 " The responsibility was entirely mine." 
 
 She looked at him for a moment in horror. 
 
 " You can dare to admit that here to me ? " 
 
 " Why not ? " he answered calmly. " So long as 
 it is my conviction, why not proclaim it? I love
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 17 
 
 the truth. It is the one virtue which has never been 
 denied me." 
 
 Her eyes flashed. She made no effort whatever 
 to conceal her detestation. 
 
 " And they let you go those Americans ? " she 
 cried. " I do not understand ! " 
 
 " There are probably many other considerations 
 in connection with the affair which you do not under- 
 stand," he observed. " However they had their 
 opportunity. I walked the streets openly, I travelled 
 to New York openly, I took my steamer ticket to 
 England under my own name. The papers, I be- 
 lieve, chronicled every stage of my journey." 
 
 " It was disgraceful ! " she (declared. " The people 
 in office over there are cowards." 
 
 " Not at all," he objected. " They were very well 
 advised. They acted with shrewd common sense. 
 America is no better prepared for a revolution than 
 England is." 
 
 " Do you imagine," she demanded, her voice 
 trembling, " that you will be permitted to repeat in 
 this country your American exploits ? " 
 
 Maraton smiled a little sadly. 
 
 "Need we discuss these things, Lady Elisabeth?'* 
 
 " Yes, we need ! " she replied promptly. " This 
 is my one opportunity. You and I will probably 
 never exchange another word so long as we live. I 
 have read your book every word of it. I have 
 read it several times. In that book you have shown 
 just as much of yourself as you chose, and no more. 
 Although I have hated the idea that I might ever 
 have to speak to you, now that you are here, now
 
 18 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 that it has come to pass, I am going to ask you a 
 question." 
 
 He sighed. 
 
 " People ask me so many questions ! " 
 
 " Tell me this," she continued, without heeding his 
 interruption. " Do you, in your heart, believe that 
 you are justified in going about the world preaching 
 your hateful doctrines, seeking out the toilers only 
 to fill them with discontent and to set them against 
 their employers, preaching everywhere bloodshed and 
 anarchy, inflaming the minds of people who in ordi- 
 nary times are contented, even happy? You have 
 made yourself feared and hated in every country of 
 the world. You have brought America almost to the 
 verge of revolution. And now, just when England 
 needs peace most, when affairs on the Continent are 
 so threatening and every one connected with the 
 Government of the country is passing through a 
 time of the gravest anxiety, you intend, they say, to 
 start a campaign here. You say that you love the 
 truth. Answer me this question truthfully, then. 
 Do you believe that you are justified? " 
 
 He had listened to her at first with a slight, toler- 
 ant smile upon his lips, a smile which faded gradually 
 away. He was sombre, almost stern, when she had 
 finished. He seemed in some curious way to have 
 assumed a larger shape, to have become more impos- 
 ing. His attitude had a strange and indefinable 
 influence upon her. 
 
 She was suddenly conscious of her youth and 
 inexperience bitterly and rebelliously conscious 
 of them before he had even opened his lip
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 19 
 
 Her own words sounded crude and unconvinc- 
 ing. 
 
 " I am not one of the flamboyant orators of the 
 Socialist party, Lady Elisabeth," he said, " nor am 
 I one of those who are able to see much joy or very 
 much hopefulness in life under present conditions. 
 For every word I have spoken and every line I have 
 written, I accept the full and complete responsi- 
 bility." 
 
 " Those men who were murdered in Chicago, mur- 
 dered at your instigation because they tried to break 
 the strike what of them ? " 
 
 He looked at her as one might have looked at a 
 child. 
 
 " Their lives were a . necessary sacrifice in a good 
 cause," he declared. " Does one think now of the 
 sea of blood through which France once purged her- 
 self? Believe me, young lady, there is nothing in 
 the world more to be avoided than this sentimental 
 and exaggerated reverence for life. It is born of a 
 false ideal, artistically and actually. Life is a sac- 
 rifice to be offered in a just cause when necessary. 
 ... I imagine that this is your uncle." 
 
 Mr. Foley was standing upon the threshold of the 
 room, his hand outstretched, his thin, long face full 
 of conviction. 
 
 " My niece has succeeded in discovering you, then, 
 Mr. Maraton," he said. " I am glad." 
 
 Maraton smiled as he shook hands. 
 
 " I have certainly had the pleasure of making 
 your niece's acquaintance," he admitted. " We have 
 had quite an interesting discussion."
 
 20 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 Elisabeth turned away without looking towards 
 him. 
 
 " I will leave Mr. Maraton to you, uncle," she 
 said. " He will tell you that I have been very candid 
 indeed. We were coming face to face with Mr. 
 Culvain, so I brought him in here." 
 
 She did not glance again in Maraton's direction, 
 nor did she offer him any form of farewell salutation. 
 Mr. Foley frowned slightly as he glanced after her. 
 Maraton, too, watched her leave the room. She 
 paused for a moment on the threshold to gather up 
 her train, a graceful but at the same time imperious 
 gesture. She left them without a backward look. 
 Mr. Foley turned quickly towards his companion and 
 was relieved at the expression which he found in his 
 face. 
 
 " My niece is a little earnest in her views," he re- 
 marked, " too much so, I am afraid, for a practical 
 politician. She is quite well-informed and a great 
 help to me at times." 
 
 " I found her altogether charming," Maraton said 
 quietly. " She has, too, the unusual gift of hon- 
 esty." 
 
 Mr. Foley was once more a little uneasy. It was 
 impossible for him to forget Elisabeth's outspoken 
 verdict upon this man and all his works. 
 
 " The young are never tolerant," he murmured. 
 
 " And quite rightly," Maraton observed. " There 
 is nothing more to be envied in youth than its mag- 
 nificent certainty. It knows! ... I am flattered, 
 Mr. Foley, that you should have received me in your 
 house to-night. Your niece's attitude towards me,
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 21 
 
 even if a trifle crude, is, I am afraid, the general one 
 amongst your class in this country." 
 
 " To be frank with you, I agree," Mr. Foley 
 assented. " I, personally, Mr. Maraton, am trying 
 to be a dissenter. It is for that reason that I 
 begged you to come here to-night and discuss the 
 matter with me before you committed yourself to any 
 definite plan of action in this country." 
 
 " Your message was a surprise to me," Maraton 
 admitted calmly. " At the same time, it was a sum- 
 mons which I could not disregard. As you see, I 
 am here." 
 
 Mr. Foley drew a key from his pocket and led 
 the way across the room towards a closed door. 
 
 " I want to make sure that we are not disturbed. 
 I am going to take you through to my study, if I 
 may." 
 
 They passed into a small inner room, plainly but 
 comfortably furnished. 
 
 " My own den," Mr. Foley explained, closing the 
 door behind him with an air of relief. " Will .you 
 smoke, Mr. Maraton, or drink anything? " 
 
 " Neither, thank you," Maraton answered. " I 
 am here to listen. I am curious to hear what there 
 is that you can have to say to me."
 
 Mr. Foley pointed to an easy-chair. Maraton, 
 however, did not at once respond to his gesture of 
 invitation. He was standing, tense and silent, with 
 head upraised, listening. From the street outside 
 came a strange, rumbling sound. 
 
 " You permit ? " he asked, stepping to the window 
 and drawing the curtain a few inches on one side. 
 " There is something familiar about that sound. I 
 heard it last in Chicago." 
 
 Mr. Foley rose slowly from the easy-chair into 
 which he had thrown himself, and stood by his visi- 
 tor's side. Outside, the pavements were lined by 
 policemen, standing like sentries about half-a-dozen 
 yards apart. The tented entrance to the house was 
 guarded by a solid phalanx of men in uniform. A 
 mounted inspector was riding slowly up and down in 
 the middle of the road. At the entrance to the 
 street, barely fifty yards away, a moving mass of 
 people, white-faced, almost spectral, were passing 
 slowly beneath the pale gas-lamps. 
 
 " The people ! " Maraton murmured, with a curious 
 note in his tone, half of reverence, half of pity. 
 
 " The mob ! " Mr. Foley echoed bitterly. " They 
 brawl before the houses of those who do their best 
 to serve them. They bark always at our heels.
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 23 
 
 Perhaps to-night it is you whom they have come to 
 honour. Your bodyguard, eh, Mr. Maraton ? " 
 
 " If they have discovered that I am here, it is not 
 unlikely," Maraton admitted calmly. 
 
 Mr. Foley dropped the curtain which he had taken 
 from his companion's fingers. Moving back into the 
 room, he turned on more light. Then he resumed 
 his seat. 
 
 " Mr. Maraton," he began, " we met only once 
 before, I think. That was four years ago this sum- 
 mer. Answer me honestly do you see any change 
 in me ? " 
 
 Maraton leaned a little forward. His face showed 
 some concern, as he answered: 
 
 " You are not in the best of health just now, I 
 fear, Mr. Foley." 
 
 " I am as well as I shall ever be," was the quiet 
 reply. " What you see in my face is just the record 
 of these last four years, the outward evidence of 
 four years of ceaseless trouble and anxiety. I will 
 not call myself yet a broken man, but the time is 
 not far off." 
 
 Maraton remained silent. His attitude was still 
 sympathetic, but he seemed determined to carry out 
 his role of listener. 
 
 " If the political history of these four years is 
 ever truthfully written," Mr. Foley continued, " the 
 world will be amazed at the calm indifference of the 
 people threatened day by day with national disaster. 
 We who have been behind the scenes have kept a stiff 
 upper lip before the world, but I tell you frankly, 
 Mr. Maraton, that no Cabinet who ever undertook
 
 24 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 the government of this country has gone through 
 what we have gone through. Three times we have 
 been on the brink of war twice on our own account 
 and once on account of those whom we are bound to 
 consider our allies. The other national disaster we 
 have had to face, you know of. Still, here we are 
 safe up to to-night. There is nothing in the whole 
 world we need now so much as rest just a few 
 months' freedom from anxiety. Until last week we 
 had dared to hope for it. Now, breathless still from 
 our last escape, we are face to face suddenly with 
 all the possibilities of your coming." 
 
 " You fear the people," Maraton remarked quietly. 
 
 Mr. Foley's pale, worn face suddenly lit up. 
 
 " Fear the people ! " he repeated, with a note of 
 passion in his tone. " I fear the people for their 
 own sake ; I fear the ruin and destruction they may, 
 by ill-advised action, bring upon themselves and their 
 country. Mr. Maraton, grant, will you not, that I 
 am a man of some experience? Believe, I pray you, 
 that I am honest. Let me assure you of this. If 
 the people be not wisely led now, the Empire which 
 I and my Ministers have striven so hard to keep 
 intact, must fall. There are troubles pressing upon 
 us still from every side. If the people are wrongly 
 advised to-day, the British Empire must fall, even 
 as those other great dynasties of the past have 
 fallen." 
 
 Maraton turned once more to the window, raised 
 the curtain, and gazed out into the darkness. There 
 was a little movement at the end of the street. The 
 police had driven back the crowd to allow a carriage
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 25 
 
 to pass through. A hoarse murmur of voices came 
 floating into the room. The people gave way slowly 
 and unwillingly still, they gave way. Law and 
 order, strenuous though the task of preserving them 
 was becoming, prevailed. 
 
 " Mr. Foley," Maraton said, dropping the curtain 
 and returning once more to his place, " I am hon- 
 oured by your confidence. You force me, however, 
 to remind you that you have spoken to me as a 
 politician. I am not a politician. The cause of 
 the people is above politics." 
 
 *' I am for the people," Mr. Foley declared, with 
 a sudden passion in his tone. " It is their own fault, 
 the blind prejudice of their ignorant leaders, if they 
 fail to recognise it." 
 
 " For the people," Maraton repeated softly. 
 
 " Haven't my Government done their best to prove 
 it ? " the Prime Minister demanded, almost fiercely. 
 " We have passed at least six measures which a dozen 
 years ago would have been reckoned rank Socialism. 
 What we do need to-day is a people's man in our 
 Government. I admit our weakness. I admit that 
 with every desire to do the right thing, we may 
 sometimes err through lack of knowledge. Our great 
 trouble is this; there is not to-day a single man 
 amongst the Labour Party, a single man who has 
 come into Parliament on the mandate of the people, 
 whose assistance would be of the slightest service 
 to us. I make you an offer which you yourself must 
 consider a wonderful one. You come to this country 
 as an enemy, and I offer you my hand as a friend. 
 I offer you not only a seat in Parliament but a share
 
 26 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 in the counsels of my party. I ask you to teach us 
 how to legislate for the people of the future." 
 
 Maraton remained for a moment silent. His face 
 betrayed no exultation. His tone, when at last he 
 spoke, was almost sad. 
 
 " Mr. Foley," he said, " if you are not a great 
 man, you have in you, at least, the elements of great- 
 ness. You have imagination. You know how to 
 meet a crisis. I only wish that what you suggest 
 were possible. Twenty years ago, perhaps, yes. 
 To-day I fear that the time for any legislation in 
 which you would concur, is past." 
 
 "What have you to hope for but legislation?" 
 Mr. Foley asked. " What else is there but civil 
 war? " 
 
 Maraton smiled a little grimly. 
 
 " There is what in your heart you are fearing all 
 the time," he replied. " There is the slow paralysis 
 of all your manufactures, the stoppage of your rail- 
 ways, the dislocation of every industry and under- 
 taking built upon the slavery of the people. What 
 about your British Empire then? " 
 
 Mr. Foley regarded his visitor with quiet dignity. 
 
 " I have understood that you were an Englishman, 
 Mr. Maraton," he said. " Am I to look upon you 
 as a traitor? " 
 
 " Not to the cause which is my one religion," 
 Maraton retorted swiftly. " Empires may come 
 and go, but the people remain. What changes may 
 happen to this country before the great and final 
 one, is a matter in which I am not deeply concerned." 
 
 The telephone bell upon the table between them
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 27 
 
 rang. Mr. Folej frowned slightly, as he raised the 
 receiver to his ear. 
 
 " You will forgive me ? " he begged. " This is 
 doubtless a matter of some importance. It is not 
 often that my secretary allows me to be disturbed 
 at this hour." 
 
 Maraton wandered back to the window, raised the 
 curtain and once more looked out upon the scene 
 which seemed to him that night so pregnant with 
 meaning. His mind remained fixed upon the symbol- 
 ism of the streets. He heard only the echoes of a 
 somewhat prolonged exchange of questions and 
 answers. Finally, Mr. Foley replaced the receiver 
 and announced the conclusion of the conversation. 
 When Maraton turned round, it seemed to him that 
 his host's face was grey. 
 
 " You come like the stormy petrel," the latter re- 
 marked bitterly. " There is bad news to-night from 
 the north. We are threatened with militant labour 
 troubles all over the country." 
 
 " It is the inevitable," Maraton declared. 
 
 Mr. Foley struck the table with his fist. 
 
 " I deny it ! " he cried. " These troubles can and 
 shall be stopped. Legislation shall do it amicable, 
 if possible; brutal, if not. But the man who is con- 
 tent to see his country ruined, see it presented, a 
 helpless prey, to our enemies for the mere trouble 
 of landing upon our shores, that man is a traitor 
 and deserves to be treated as such. Tell me, on be- 
 half of the people, Mr. Maraton, what is it that you 
 want ? Name your terms ? " 
 
 Maraton shook his head doubtfully.
 
 28 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 " You are a brave man, Mr. Foley," he said, " but 
 remember that you do not stand alone. There are 
 your fellow Ministers." 
 
 " They are my men," Mr. Foley insisted. " Be- 
 sides, there is the thunder in the air. We cannot dis- 
 regard it. We are not ostriches. Better to meet 
 the trouble bravely than to be crushed by it." 
 
 There was a tap at the door, and Lady Elisabeth 
 appeared upon the threshold. Maraton was con- 
 scious of realising for the first time that this was 
 the most beautiful woman whom he had ever seen 
 in his life. She avoided looking at him as she ad- 
 dressed her uncle. 
 
 " Uncle," she said deprecatingly, " I am so sorry, 
 but every one is asking for you. You have been in 
 here for nearly twenty minutes. There is a rumour 
 that you are ill." 
 
 Mr. Foley rose to his feet reluctantly. 
 
 " I will come," he promised. 
 
 She closed the door and departed silently. At no 
 time had she glanced towards or taken any notice of 
 Maraton. 
 
 " We discuss the fate of an empire," Mr. Foley 
 sighed, " and necessity demands that I must return 
 to my guests! This conversation between us must 
 be finished. You are a reasonable man ; you cannot 
 deny the right of an enemy to demand your terms 
 before you declare war ? " 
 
 Maraton, too, had risen to his feet. He had 
 turned slightly and his eyes were fixed upon the door 
 through which Elisabeth had passed. For a moment 
 or two he seemed deep in thought. The immobility
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 29 
 
 of his features was at last disturbed. His eyes were 
 wonderfully bright, his lips were a little parted. 
 
 " On Saturday," Mr. Foley continued, " we leave 
 for our country home. For two days we shall be 
 alone. It is not far away an hour by rail. Will 
 you come, Mr. Maraton? " 
 
 Maraton withdrew his eyes from the door. 
 
 " It seems a little useless," he said quietly. " Will 
 you give me until to-morrow to think it over? "
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 Maraton made his way from Downing Street on 
 foot, curiously enough altogether escaping recogni- 
 tion from the crowds who were still hanging about 
 on the chance of catching a glimpse of him. He 
 was somehow conscious, as he turned northwards, 
 of a peculiar sense of exhilaration, a savour in life 
 unexpected, not altogether analysable. As a rule, 
 the streets themselves supplied him with illimitable 
 food for thought; the passing multitudes, the cease- 
 less flow of the human stream, justification absolute 
 and most complete for the new faith of which he was 
 the prophet. For the cause of the people had only 
 been recognised during recent days as something en- 
 tirely distinct from the Socialism and Syndicalism 
 which had been its precursors. It was Maraton him- 
 self who had raised it to the level of a religion. 
 
 To-night, however, there was a curious background 
 to his thoughts. Some part of his earlier life seemed 
 stirred up in the man. The one selfishness permitted 
 to rank as a virtue in his sex was alive. His heart 
 had ceased to throb with the loiterers, the flotsam and 
 jetsam of the gutters. For the moment he was cast 
 loose from the absorbed and serious side of his career. 
 A curious wave of sentiment had enveloped him, a wave 
 of sentiment unanalysable and as yet impersonal ; he 
 walked as a man in a dream. For the first time he
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 31 
 
 had seen and recognised the imperishable thing in a 
 woman's face. 
 
 He reached at last one of the large, somewhat 
 gloomy squares in the district between St. Pancras 
 and New Oxford street, and paused before one of the 
 most remote houses situated at the extreme north- 
 east corner. He opened the front door with a latch- 
 key and passed across a large but simply furnished 
 hall into his study. He entered a little abstractedly, 
 and it was not until he had closed the door behind 
 him that he realised the presence of another person 
 in the room. At his entrance she had risen to her 
 feet. 
 
 " At last ! " she exclaimed. " At last you have 
 come ! " 
 
 There was a silence, prolonged, curious, in a sense 
 thrilling. A girl of wonderful appearance had risen 
 to her feet and was looking eagerly towards him. 
 She was wearing the plain black dress of a working 
 woman, whose clumsy folds inadequately concealed a 
 figure of singular beauty and strength. Her cheeks 
 were colourless ; her eyes large and deep, and of a soft 
 shade of grey, filled just now with the half wonder- 
 ing, half worshipping expression of a pilgrim who 
 has reached the Mecca of her desires. Her hair 
 her shabby hat lay upon the table was dark and 
 glossy. Her arms were a little outstretched. Her 
 lips, unusually scarlet against the pallor of her face, 
 were parted. Her whole attitude was one of quiver- 
 ing eagerness. Maraton stood and looked at her 
 in wonder. The little cloud of sentiment in which 
 he had been moving, perhaps, made him more than
 
 32 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 ever receptive to the impressions which she seemed to 
 create. Both the girl herself and her pose were 
 splendidly allegorical. She stood there for the great 
 things of life. 
 
 " I would not go away," she cried softly. " They 
 forbade me to stay, but I came back. I am Julia 
 Thurnbrein. I have waited so long." 
 
 Maraton stepped towards her and took her hands. 
 
 " I am glad," he said. " It is fitting that you 
 should be one of the first to welcome me. You have 
 done a great work, Julia Thurnbrein." 
 
 " And you," she murmured passionately, still 
 clasping his hands, " you a far greater one ! Ever 
 since I understood, I have longed for this meeting. 
 It is you who will become the world's deliverer." 
 
 Maraton led her gently back to the chair in which 
 she had been sitting. 
 
 " Now we must talk," he declared. " Sit opposite 
 to me there." 
 
 He struck a match and lit the lamp of a little 
 coffee machine which stood upon the table. She 
 sprang eagerly to her feet. 
 
 " Let me, please," she begged. " I understand 
 those things. Please let me make the coffee." 
 
 He laughed and, going to the cabinet, brought an- 
 other of the old blue china cups and saucers. With 
 very deft fingers she manipulated the machine. 
 Presently, when her task was finished, she sat back 
 in her chair, her coffee cup in her hand, her great 
 eyes fixed upon him. She had the air of a person 
 entirely content. 
 
 " So you are Julia Thurnbrein."
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 33 
 
 " And you," she replied, still with that note of sup- 
 pressed yet passionate reverence in her tone, " are 
 Maraton." 
 
 He smiled. 
 
 " The women workers of the world owe you a great 
 deal," he said. 
 
 " But it is so little that one can do," she answered, 
 quivering with pleasure at his words. " One needs 
 inspiration, direction. Now that you have cojiie, it 
 will be different ; it will be wonderful 1 " 
 
 She leaned towards him, and once more Maraton 
 was conscious of the splendid mobility of her tremb- 
 ling body. She was a revelation to him a modern 
 Joan of Arc. 
 
 " Remember that I am no magician," he warned 
 her. 
 
 " Ah, but your very presence alters everything ! " 
 she cried. " It makes everything possible every- 
 thing. My brother, too, is mad with excitement. 
 He hoped that you might have been at the Clarion 
 Hall to-night, before you went to Downing Street* 
 You have seen Mr. Foley and talked with him? " 
 
 " I have come straight from there," he told her- 
 " Foley is a shrewd man. He sees the writing upon 
 the wall. He is afraid." 
 
 She looked at him and laughed. 
 
 " They will try to buy you," she remarked scorn- 
 fully. " They will try to deal with you as they did 
 with Blake and others like him you Maraton ! 
 Oh, I wonder if England knows what it means, your 
 coming ! if she really feels the breaking dawn ! " 
 
 " Tell me about yourself? " Maraton asked, a little
 
 34 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 abruptly " your work ? I know you only by 
 name, remember your articles in the reviews and 
 your evidence before the Woman Labour Commis- 
 sion." 
 
 " I am a tailoress," she replied. " It is horrible 
 work, but I have the good fortune to be quick. I 
 can make a living there are many who cannot." 
 
 He was leaning back in his chair, his head sup- 
 ported by his hand, his eyes fixed curiously upon 
 her. Her pallor was not wholly the pallor of ill- 
 health. In her beautiful eyes shone the fire of life. 
 She laughed at him softly and held out her hands 
 for his inspection. They were shapely enough, but 
 her finger-tips were scotched and pricked. 
 
 " Here are the hall-marks of my trade. Others 
 who work by my side have fallen away. It is of their 
 sufferings I have written. I myself am physically 
 very strong. It is the average person who counts." 
 
 He looked at her thoughtfully. 
 
 " You have written and worked a great deal for 
 your age. Are you still in employment ? " 
 
 " Of course ! I left off at seven this evening. I 
 have nothing else in my life," she added simply, " but 
 my work, our work, the breaking of these vile bonds. 
 I need no pleasures. I have never thought of any." 
 
 Her eyes suddenly dropped before his. A con- 
 fusion of thought seemed to have seized upon her. 
 Maraton, too, conscious of the nature of his imagin- 
 ings, although innocent of any personal application, 
 was not wholly free from embarrassment. 
 
 " Perhaps you will think," he observed, " that I 
 am asking too many personal questions for a new
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 35 
 
 acquaintance, but, after all, I must know you, must 
 I not? We are fellow workers in a great cause. The 
 small things do not matter." 
 
 She looked at him once more frankly. The blush 
 had passed from her cheeks, her eyes were untroubled. 
 
 " I don't know what came over me," she confessed. 
 " I was suddenly afraid that you might misunder- 
 stand my coming to you like this, without invitation, 
 so late. Somehow, with you, it didn't seem to count." 
 
 " It must not ! " 
 
 More at her ease now she glanced around the room 
 and back at him. He smiled. 
 
 " Confess," he said, " that there are some things 
 about me and my surroundings which have surprised 
 you? " \ 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 " Willingly. I was surprised at your house, at 
 being received by a man servant at everything," 
 she added, with a glance at his attire. " Yet what 
 does that matter? It is because I do not under- 
 stand." 
 
 The little lines about his eyes deepened. He 
 laughed softly. 
 
 " I only hope that the others will adopt your atti- 
 tude. I hear that many of them have very decided 
 views about evening dress and small luxuries of any 
 description." 
 
 " Graveling and Peter Dale especially Dale 
 are terrible," she declared. " Dale is very narrow, 
 indeed. You must bear with them if they are foolish 
 at first. They are uncultured and rough. They do 
 not quite understand. Sometimes they do not see
 
 36 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 far enough. But to-morrow you will meet them. 
 You will be at the Clarion to-morrow ? " 
 
 " I am not sure," he answered thoughtfully. " I 
 am thinking matters over. To-morrow I shall meet 
 the men of whom you have spoken, and a few others 
 whose names I have on my list, and consult with 
 them. Personally, I am not sure as to the wisdom of 
 opening my lips until after our meeting at Man- 
 chester." 
 
 " Oh, don't say that ! " she begged. " What we 
 all need so much is encouragement, inspiration. Our 
 greatest danger is lethargy. There are millions who 
 stare into the darkness, who long for a single word 
 of hope. Their eyes are almost tired. Come and 
 speak to us to-morrow as you spoke to the men and 
 women of Chicago." 
 
 He smiled a little grimly. 
 
 " You forget that this is England. Until the time 
 comes, one must choose one's words. It is just what 
 would please our smug enemies best to have me break 
 their laws before I have been here long enough to 
 become dangerous." 
 
 " You broke the laws of America," she protested 
 eagerly. 
 
 " I had a million men and women primed for battle 
 at my back," he reminded her. " The warrant was 
 signed for my arrest, but no one dared to serve it. 
 All the same, I had to leave the country with some 
 work half finished." 
 
 " It was a glorious commencement," she cried en- 
 thusiastically. 
 
 " One must not forget, though," he sighed, " that
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 37 
 
 England is different. To attain the same ends here, 
 one may have to use somewhat different methods." 
 
 For the moment, perhaps, she was stirred by some 
 prophetic misgiving. The hard common sense of his 
 words fell like a cold douche upon the furnace of her 
 enthusiasms. She had imagined him a prophet, 
 touched by the great and unmistakable fire, ready to 
 drive his chariot through all the hosts of iniquity; 
 irresistible, unassailable, cleaving his way through 
 the bending masses of their oppressors to the goal 
 of their desires. His words seemed to proclaim him 
 a disciple of other methods. There were to be com- 
 promises. His attire, his dwelling, this luxuriously 
 furnished room, so different from anything which she 
 had expected, proclaimed it. She herself held it part 
 of the creed of her life to be free from all ornaments, 
 free from even the shadow of luxury. Her throat 
 was bare, her hair simply arranged, her fingers and 
 wrists innocent of even the simplest article of jewel- 
 lery. He, on the other hand, the Elijah of her 
 dreams, appeared in the guise of a man of fashion, 
 wearing, as though he were used to them, the attire 
 of the hated class, obviously qualified by breeding 
 and use to hold his place amongst them. Was this 
 indeed to be the disappointment of her life? Then 
 she remembered and her courage rose. After all, 
 he was the Master. 
 
 " I will go now," she said. " I am glad to have 
 been the first to have welcomed you." 
 
 He held out his hands. Then for a moment they 
 both listened and turned towards the door. There 
 was the sound of an angry voice a visitor, appar-
 
 3 8 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 ently, trying to force his way in. Maraton strode 
 towards the door and opened it. A young man was 
 in the hall, expostulating angrily with a resolute 
 man servant. His hat had rolled on to the floor, his 
 face was flushed with anger. The servant, on recog- 
 nising his master, stepped back at once. 
 
 " The gentleman insisted upon forcing his way in, 
 sir," he explained softly. " I wished him to wait 
 while I brought you his name." 
 
 Maraton smiled and made a little gesture of dis- 
 missal. The young man picked up his hat. He was 
 still hot with anger. Maraton pointed to the room 
 on the threshold of which the girl was still standing. 
 
 " If you wish to speak to me," he said, " I am 
 quite at your service. Only it is a little late for a 
 visit, isn't it? And yours seems to be a rather 
 unceremonious way of insisting upon it. Who are 
 you?" 
 
 The } T oung man stood and stared at his questioner. 
 He was wearing a blue serge suit, obviously ready- 
 made, thick boots, a doubtful collar, a machine- 
 knitted silk tie of vivid colour. He had curly fair 
 hair, a sharp face with narrow eyes, thick lips and 
 an indifferent complexion. 
 
 " Are you Maraton ? " he demanded. 
 
 "I am," Maraton admitted. "And you?" 
 
 '* I am Richard Graveling, M.P.," the young man 
 announced, with a certain emphasis on those last two 
 letters, " M.P. for Poplar East. We expected you 
 at the Clarion to-night." 
 
 " I had other business," Maraton remarked calmly. 
 
 The young man appeared a trifle disconcerted.
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 39 
 
 " I don't see what business you can have here till 
 we've talked things out and laid our plans," he de- 
 clared. " I am secretary of the committee appointed 
 to meet and confer with you. Peter Dale is chair- 
 man, of course. There are five of us. We expected 
 you 'round to-night. You got our telegram at Liver- 
 pool? " 
 
 " Certainly," Maraton admitted. " It did not, 
 however, suit my plans to accept your invitation. I 
 had a message from Mr. Foley, begging me to see 
 him to-night. I have been to his house." 
 
 The young man distinctly scowled. 
 
 " So Foley's been getting at you, has he? " 
 
 Maraton's face was inscrutable but there was, for 
 a moment, a dangerous flash in his eyes. 
 
 " I had some conversation with him this evening." 
 
 " What did he want ? " Graveling asked bluntly. 
 
 Maraton raised his eyebrows. He turned to the 
 girl. 
 
 "Do you know Mr. Graveling?" 
 
 The young man scowled. Julia smiled but there 
 was a shadow of trouble in her face. 
 
 " Naturally," she replied. " Mr. Graveling and 
 I are fellow workers." 
 
 " Yes, we are that," the young man declared point- 
 edly, " that and a little more, I hope. To tell you 
 the truth, I followed Miss Thurnbrein here, and I 
 think she'd have done better to have asked for my 
 escort the escort of the man she's going to marry 
 before she came here alone at this time of night." 
 
 Mr. Graveling's ill-humour was explained. He 
 was of the order of those to whom the ability to con-
 
 40 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 ceal their feelings is not given, and he was obviously 
 in a temper. Maraton's face remained impassive. 
 The girl, however, stood suddenly erect. There was 
 a vivid spot of colour in her cheeks. 
 
 " You had better keep to the truth, Richard 
 Graveling ! " she cried fearlessly. " I have never 
 promised to marry you, or if I have, it was under 
 certain conditions. You had no right to follow me 
 here." 
 
 The young man opened his lips and closed them 
 again. He was scarcely capable of speech. The 
 very intensity of his anger seemed to invest the little 
 scene with a peculiar significance. The girl had the 
 air of one who has proclaimed her freedom. The 
 face of the man who glared at her was distorted with 
 unchained passions. In the background, Maraton 
 stood with tired but expressionless countenance, and 
 the air of one who listens to a quarrel between chil- 
 dren, a quarrel in which he has no concern. 
 
 " It is not fair," Julia continued, " to discuss a 
 purely personal matter here. You can walk home 
 with me if you care to, Richard Graveling, but all 
 that I have to say to you, I prefer to say here. I 
 never promised to marry you. You have always 
 chosen to take it for granted, and I have let you 
 speak of it because I was indifferent, because I have 
 never chosen to think of such matters, because my 
 thoughts have been wholly, wholly dedicated to the 
 greatest cause in the world. To-night you have 
 forced yourself upon me. You have done yourself 
 harm, not good. You have surprised the truth in 
 my heart. It is clear to me that I cannot marry
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 41 
 
 you; I never could. I shall not change. Now let 
 us go back to our work hand in hand, if you will, but 
 that other matter is closed between us forever." 
 
 She turned to say farewell to Maraton, but 
 Graveling interposed himself between them. His 
 voice shook and there were evil things in his distorted 
 face. 
 
 " To-night, for the first time," he exclaimed 
 hoarsely, " you speak in this fashion ! Before, even 
 if you were indifferent, marriage at least seemed pos- 
 sible to you. To-night you say that the truth has 
 come to you. You look at me with different eyes. 
 You draw back. You begin to feel, to understand. 
 You are a woman to-night! Why? Answer me 
 that! Why? Why to-night? Why not before? 
 Why is it that to-night you have awakened? I will 
 know! Look at me." 
 
 She was taken unawares, assailed suddenly, not 
 only by his words but by those curious new sensations, 
 her own, yet unfamiliar to her. It was civil war. 
 A part of herself was in league with her accuser. 
 She felt the blushes stain her cheeks. She looked 
 imploringly at Maraton for help. He smiled at her 
 reassuringly, delightfully. 
 
 " Children," he expostulated, " this is absurd ! 
 Off with you to your homes. These are small mat- 
 ters of which you speak." 
 
 His hands were courteously laid upon both of 
 them. He led them to the door and ^pointed east- 
 wards through the darkness. 
 
 " Think of the morning. Think of the human 
 beings who wake in a few hours, only to bend their
 
 42 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 bodies once more to the yoke. The other things are 
 but trifles." 
 
 She looked back at him from the corner of the 
 Square, a straight, impassive figure in a little halo 
 of soft light. There was a catch in her heart. Her 
 companion's words were surely spoken in some for- 
 eign tongue. 
 
 " We have got to have this out, Julia," he was say- 
 ing. " If anybody or anything has come between 
 us, there's going to be trouble. If that's the great 
 Maraton, with his swagger evening clothes and big 
 house, well, he's not the man for our job, and I shan't 
 mind being the first to tell him so." 
 
 She glanced at him, for a moment, almost in won- 
 der. Was he indeed so small, so insignificant? 
 
 " There are many paths," she said softly, " which 
 lead to the light. Ours may be best suited to our- 
 selves but it may not be the only one. It is not for 
 you or for me to judge." 
 
 Richard Graveling talked on, doing his cause harm 
 with every word he uttered. Julia relapsed into 
 silence ; soon she did not even hear his words. They 
 rode for some distance on an omnibus through the 
 city, now shrouded and silent. At the corner of the 
 street where she had her humble lodgings, he left her. 
 
 " Well, I have had my say," he declared. " Think 
 it over. I'll meet you out of work to-morrow, if I 
 can. We shall have had a talk with Mr. Maraton 
 by that time!" 
 
 She left him with a smile upon her lips. His ab- 
 sence seemed like an immense, a wonderful relief. 
 Once more her thoughts were free.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 But were they free, after all, these thoughts of 
 hers ? 
 
 Julia rose at daybreak and, fully dressed, stood 
 watching the red light eastwards staining the smoke- 
 hung city. Her little room with its plain deal furni- 
 ture, its uncarpeted floor, was the perfection of neat- 
 ness, her bed already made, her little pots of flowers 
 upon the window-sill, jealously watered. In the still 
 smaller sitting-room, visible through the open door, 
 she could hear the hissing of her kettle upon the little 
 spirit lamp. Her hat and gloves were already out. 
 Everything was in readiness for her early start. 
 
 She had slept very much as usual, and had got up 
 only a little earlier than she was accustomed to. Yet 
 there was a difference. Only so short a time ago, the 
 incidents of her own daily life, even the possibilities 
 connected with it, had seemed utterly insignificant, 
 so little worthy of notice. Morning and night her 
 heart had been full of the sufferings of those amongst 
 whom she worked. The flagrant, hateful injustice 
 of this ill-arranged world had throbbed in her pulses, 
 absorbed her interests, had occupied the whole horizon 
 of her life. To marry Richard Graveling might 
 sometime be advisable, in the interests of their joint 
 labours. And suddenly it had become impossible. 
 It had become utterly impossible! Why?
 
 44 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 The red light in the sky had faded, the sun "was 
 now fully risen. Julia looked out of her window and 
 was dimly conscious of the change. The heart which 
 had throbbed for the sorrows of others was to thrill 
 now on its own account. It was something mys- 
 terious which had happened to her, something against 
 which she was later on to fight passionately, which 
 was creeping like poison through her veins. With 
 her splendid womanhood, her intense consciousness 
 of life, how was it possible for her to escape? 
 
 There was an impatient tap at the door and Aaron 
 came in. She recognised him with a little cry of 
 surprise. He was paler than ever and grim with 
 his night's vigil. The lines under his eyes were 
 deeper, his skin seemed sallower. He had the di- 
 shevelled look of one who is still in his attire of the 
 preceding day. 
 
 " You have heard ? " he exclaimed. " We stayed 
 at the Clarion till three. Maraton never even sent 
 us a message. Yet they say that he is in London. 
 They even declare that he was at Downing Street last 
 night." 
 
 " I know that he was there," Julia said quietly. 
 
 " You know ? You ? But they were all sure of 
 it." 
 
 He dashed his cap into a corner. 
 
 " Maraton is our man," he continued passionately. 
 " No one shall rob us of him. He should have come 
 to us. Downing Street blast Downing Street ! " 
 
 " There is no one in this world," she told him gen- 
 tly, " who will move Maraton from his will. I know. 
 I have seen him."
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 45 
 
 He stared at her, hollow-eyed, amazed. 
 
 "You? You have seen him? " 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 " I heard by accident of the house he had taken 
 the house where he means to live. I went there and 
 I waited. Later, Richard Graveling came there, 
 too." 
 
 The youth struck the table before him. His eyes 
 were filled with tears. 
 
 " All night I waited ! " he cried. " I could not sit 
 still. I could scarcely breathe. Tell me what he is 
 like, Julia? Tell me what he looks like? Is he 
 strong? Does he look strong enough for the work? " 
 
 She smiled at him reassuringly. 
 
 " Yes, he looks strong and he looks kind. For the 
 rest " 
 
 " There is something ! Tell me what it is at 
 once? " 
 
 " Foolish ! Well, he is unlike Richard Graveling 
 and the others, unlike us. Why not? He is culti- 
 vated, educated, well-dressed." 
 
 The youth, for a moment, was aghast. 
 
 " You don't mean that he is a gentleman ? " 
 
 " Not in the sense you fear," she assured him. 
 " Remember that his work is more far-reaching than 
 ours. It takes him everywhere; he must be fit for 
 everything. Sit down now, dear Aaron. You are 
 tired. See, my morning tea is ready, and there is 
 bread and butter. You must eat and drink. Mara- 
 ton you will surely see later in the day. I do not 
 think that he will disappoint you." 
 
 Aaron sat down at the table. He ate and drank
 
 46 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 ravenously. He was, in fact, half starved but barely 
 conscious of it. 
 
 " He spoke of the great things ? " 
 
 Julia shook her head. She was busy cutting 
 bread and butter. 
 
 " Scarcely at all. What chance was there? And 
 then Richard Graveling came." 
 
 " They were friends ? They took to one an- 
 other? " the young man asked eagerly. 
 
 She hesitated. 
 
 " I am not sure about that. Graveling was in one 
 of his tempers. He was rude, and he said things to 
 me which I felt obliged to contradict." 
 
 "They did not quarrel?" 
 
 She laughed softly. 
 
 " Imagine Maraton quarrelling ! I think that he 
 is above such pettiness, Aaron." 
 
 " Graveling is a good fellow and a hard worker," 
 Aaron declared. " The one thing which he lacks is 
 enthusiasm. He doesn't really feel. He does his 
 work well because it is his work, not because of what 
 it leads to." 
 
 " You are right," Julia admitted. " He has no 
 enthusiasm. That is why he never moves people 
 when he speaks. I must go soon, Aaron. Will you 
 lie down and rest for a time here ? " 
 
 "Rest!" He looked at her scornfully. "How 
 can one rest! Tell me where this house of his is? 
 I shall go and wait outside. I must see him." 
 
 She glanced at the clock, and paused for a moment 
 to think. 
 
 " Aaron," she decided, " I will be late for once.
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 47 
 
 Come with me and I will take you to him. He was 
 kind to me last night. We will go together to his 
 house and wait till he is down. Then I will tell him 
 how you have longed for his coming, and perhaps " 
 
 " Perhaps what ? " Aaron interrupted. " You 
 can't escape from it! You have promised. You 
 shall take me ! I am ready to go. Perhaps what ? " 
 
 " I was only thinking," she went on, " you find it, 
 I know, impossible to settle down to work anywhere. 
 But with him, if he could find something " 
 
 Aaron sprang to his feet. 
 
 " I would work my fingers to the bone ! " he cried. 
 " It is a glorious idea, Julia. I have to give up the 
 collecting my bicycle has gone. Let us start." 
 
 They went out together into the streets, thinly 
 peopled, as yet, for it was barely six o'clock. Julia 
 would have loitered, but her brother forced her always 
 onward. She laughed as they arrived at the Square 
 where Maraton lived. Every house they passed was 
 shuttered and silent. 
 
 " How absurd we are ! " she murmured. " He will 
 not be up for hours. Very likely even the servants 
 will not be astir." 
 
 " Servants ! " 
 
 Aaron repeated the word, frowning. She only 
 smiled. 
 
 " You mustn't be foolish, dear. Don't have preju- 
 dices. Remember that we are walking along a very 
 narrow way. We have climbed only a few steps of 
 the hill. He is more than half-way to the top. 
 Things are different with him. Don't judge; only 
 wait."
 
 48 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 She rang the bell of the house a little timidly, 
 The door was opened without any delay by a man 
 servant in sombre, every-day clothes. 
 
 " We wish to see Mr. Maraton," Julia announced. 
 " He is not up yet, of course, but might we come in 
 and wait? " 
 
 " Mr. Maraton is in his study, madam," the man 
 answered. 
 
 He disappeared and beckoned them, a moment or 
 so later, to follow him. They were shown into a 
 much smaller apartment at the rear of the house. 
 (Maraton was sitting before a desk covered with 
 papers, with a breakfast tray by his side. He looked 
 up at their entrance, but his face was inexpressive. 
 He did not even smile. The sunlight died out of 
 Julia's face, and her heart sank. 
 
 " I am sorry," she began haltingly. " I ought 
 not to have come again, I know. But it is my 
 brother. Night and day he has thought of nothing 
 else but your coming." 
 
 Aaron seemed to have forgotten his timidity. He 
 crossed the room and stood before Maraton's desk. 
 His face seemed to have caught some of the fresh- 
 ness of the early morning. He was no longer the 
 sallow, pinched starveling. He was like a young 
 prophet whose eyes are burning with enthusiasm. 
 
 " You have come to help us," he asserted. " You 
 are Maraton ! " 
 
 " I have come to help you," Maraton replied. " I 
 have come to do what I can. It isn't an easy task 
 in this country, you know, to do anything, but I 
 think in the end we shall succeed. If you are Julia
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 49 
 
 Thurnbrein's brother, you should know something 
 of the work." 
 
 " I am only one of the multitude," Aaron sighed. 
 " I haven't the brains to organise. I talk sometimes 
 but I get too excited. There are others many 
 others who speak more convincingly, but no one 
 feels more than I feel, no one prays for the better 
 times more fervently than I. It isn't for myself it 
 isn't for ourselves, even; it's for the children, it's 
 for the next generation." 
 
 Maraton held out his hand suddenly. 
 
 " My young friend," he said, " you have spoken 
 the words I like to hear. Some of my helpers I have 
 found, at times, selfish. They are satisfied with the 
 small things that lie close at hand, some material 
 benefit which really is of no account at all. That 
 isn't the work for us to engage in. Sit down. Sit 
 down, Miss Julia. You have breakfasted? " 
 
 " Before we left," Julia assured him. 
 
 " Never mind, you shall breakfast again," Mara- 
 ton declared. " It is a good augury that the first 
 words I have heard from one of ourselves have been 
 words such as your brother has spoken. To tell 
 you the truth, I came over here in fear and trembling. 
 Some of your leaders have frightened me a little." 
 
 " You mean " Aaron began. 
 
 " That they don't hold their heads high enough. 
 I am not for strikes that finish with a shilling a week 
 more for the men ; or for Acts of Parliament which 
 dole out tardy charity. I am for the bigger things. 
 Last night I lay awake, thinking your friend 
 Richard Graveling set me thinking. We must aim
 
 50 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 high. I am here for no man's individual good. I 
 am here to plan not pinpricks but destruction." 
 
 The servant brought in more breakfast. They sat 
 and talked, Maraton asking many questions concern- 
 ing the men whom he would meet later in the day. 
 Then he looked regretfully at the great pile of letters 
 still before him. 
 
 " I shall need a secretary," he said slowly. 
 
 Aaron sprang to his feet. 
 
 " Take me," he begged. " I have been in a news- 
 paper office. I am slow at shorthand but I can type 
 like lightning. I will work morning and night. I 
 want nothing but a little food if I may go about 
 with you and hear you speak. Oh, take me ! " 
 
 Maraton smiled. 
 
 " You are engaged," he declared. " Go out and 
 hire a typewriter and bring it here in a cab. You 
 can start at once, I hope? " 
 
 " This minute," Aaron agreed, his voice breaking 
 with excitement. 
 
 Maraton passed him money and took them both 
 to the door. 
 
 " Tell me about to-night? " Julia asked. " Will 
 you go to the Clarion ? Shall you speak ? " 
 
 Maraton shook his head. 
 
 " No. I have written to the men whom I am 
 anxious to meet here, and asked them to come to me. 
 I should prefer not to speak at all until I go to 
 Manchester. I have plans, but I must not speak of 
 them for the moment." 
 
 " I had hoped so to hear you speak to-night," she 
 murmured, and her face fell.
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 51 
 
 They stood together at the door and looked out 
 across the green tree-tops towards the city. 
 
 " The time has gone by for speeches," he said 
 quietly. " Perhaps before very long you may hear 
 greater things than words." 
 
 They hurried off Julia to the factory, Aaron 
 to a typewriting depot in New Oxford Street. At 
 the corner of the Square they parted. 
 
 " Are you satisfied? " she asked. 
 
 His face was all aglow. 
 
 " Satisfied ! Julia, you told me nothing ! He is 
 wonderful splendid ! " 
 
 She climbed on to a 'bus with a little smile upon 
 her lips. The long day's work before her seemed 
 like a holiday task. Then she laughed softly as she 
 found herself repeating her brother's fervid words : 
 
 " Maraton has come ! "
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 Maraton spent three hours and a half that morn- 
 ing in conclave with the committee appointed for his 
 reception, and for that three hours and a half he was 
 profoundly bored. Every one had a good deal to 
 say except Richard Graveling, who sat at the end 
 of the table with folded arms and a scowl upon his 
 face. The only other man who scarcely opened his 
 lips during the entire time, was Maraton himself. 
 Peter DaleJ, Labour Member for Newcastle, was the 
 first to make a direct appeal. He was a stalwart, 
 grim-looking man, with heavy grey eyebrows and 
 grey beard. He had been a Member of Parliament 
 for some years and was looked upon as the practical 
 leader of his party. 
 
 " We've heard a lot of you, Mr. Maraton," he 
 declared, *' of your fine fighting methods and of your 
 gift of speech. We'll hear more of that, I hope, 
 at Manchester. We are, so to speak, strangers as 
 yet, but there's one thing I will say for you, and 
 that is that you're a good listener. You've heard 
 all that we've got to say and you've scarcely made a 
 remark. You won't object to my saying that we're 
 expecting something from you in the way of initiative, 
 not to say leadership ? " 
 
 Maraton glanced down the table. There were five 
 men seated there, and, a little apart from all of them,
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 53 
 
 David Ross, who had refused to be shaken off. Ex- 
 cepting him only, they were well-fed and substantial 
 looking men. Maraton had studied them carefully 
 through half-closed eyes during all the time of their 
 meeting, and the more he had studied them, the more 
 disappointed he had become. There was not one of 
 them with the eyes of a dreamer. There was not 
 one of them who appeared capable of dealing with 
 any subject save from his own absolutely material 
 and practical point of view. 
 
 Maraton from the first had felt a seal laid upon 
 his lips. Now, when the time had come for him to 
 speak, he did so with hesitation, almost with reluc- 
 tance. 
 
 " As yet," he began, " there is very little for me 
 to talk about. You are, I understand, you five, a 
 committee appointed by the Labour Party to confer 
 with me as to the best means of promulgating our 
 beliefs. You have each told me your views. You 
 would each, apparently, like me to devote myself to 
 your particular district for the purpose of propa- 
 gating a strike which shall result in a trifling increase 
 of wages." 
 
 " And a coal strike, I say," Peter Dale inter- 
 rupted, " is the logical first course. We've been 
 threatening it for two years and it's time we brought 
 it oif. I can answer for the miners of the north 
 country. We have two hundred and seventy thou- 
 sand pounds laid by and the Unions are spoiling for 
 a fight. Another eighteen-pence would make life a 
 different thing for some of our pitmen. And the 
 masters can afford it, too. Sixteen and a half per
 
 54 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 cent is the average dividend on the largest collieries 
 around us." 
 
 A small man, with gimlet-like black eyes and a 
 heavy moustache, at which he had been tugging ner- 
 vously during Peter Dale's remarks, plunged into 
 the discussion. His name was Abraham Weavel and 
 he came from Sheffield. 
 
 " Coal's all very well," he declared, " but I speak 
 for the ironfounders. There's orders enough in 
 Leeds and Sheffield to keep the furnaces ablaze for 
 two years, and the masters minting money at it. 
 Our wages ain't to be compared with the miners. 
 We've twenty thousand in Sheffield that aren't draw- 
 ing twenty-five shillings a week and they're about 
 fed up with it. We've our Unions, too, and money 
 to spare, and I tell you they're beginning to ask 
 what's the use of sending a Labour Member to Par- 
 liament and having nothing come of it." 
 
 A grey-whiskered man, who had the look of a 
 preacher, struck the table before him with a sudden 
 vigour. 
 
 "You remember who I am, Mr. Maraton? My 
 name's Borden Samuel Borden and I am from 
 the Potteries. It's all very well for Weavel and 
 Dale there to talk, "but there's no labour on God's 
 earth so underpaid as the china and glass worker. 
 We may not have the money saved that's simply 
 because it takes my people all they can do to keep 
 from starvation. I've figures here that'll prove what 
 I say. I'll go so far as this there isn't a worse 
 paid industry than mine in the United Kingdom." 
 
 There was a moment's silence. Abraham Weavel
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 55 
 
 leaned back in his chair and yawned. Peter Dale 
 made a grimace of dissent. Maraton turned to one 
 of the little company who as yet had scarcely opened 
 his lips a thin, ascetic-looking, middle-aged man, 
 who wore gold spectacles, and who had an air of 
 refinement which was certainly not shared by any of 
 the others. 
 
 " And you, Mr. Culvain," he enquired, " you rep- 
 resent no particular industry, I believe? You were 
 a journalist, were you not, before you entered Par- 
 liament? " 
 
 "I was and am a journalist," Culvain assented. 
 " Since you have asked my opinion, I must confess 
 that I am all for more peaceful methods. These 
 Labour troubles which inconvenience and bring loss 
 upon the community, do harm to our cause. I am 
 in favour of a vigorous course of platform educa- 
 tion through all the country districts of England. 
 I think that the principles of Socialism are not prop- 
 erly understood by the working classes." 
 
 " If one might make a comment upon all that you 
 have said," Maraton remarked, " I might point out 
 to you that there is a certain selfishness in your indi- 
 vidual suggestions. Three of you are in favour of 
 a gigantic strike, each in his own constituency. Mr. 
 Culvain, who is a writer and an orator, prefers the 
 methods which appeal most to him. Yet even these 
 strikes which you propose are puny affairs. You 
 want to wage war for the sake of a few shillings. 
 We ought to fight, if at all, for a greater and more 
 splendid principle. It isn't a shilling or two more 
 a week that the people want. It's a share a share
 
 5 6 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 to which they are, without the shadow of a doubt, 
 entitled in the direct product of their labour." 
 
 " That's sound enough," Peter Dale admitted. 
 " How are you going to get it ? " 
 
 " You ask for too much," Weavel observed, " and 
 you get nothing." 
 
 " It is never wise," Culvain suggested quietly, " to 
 have the public against one." 
 
 Maraton rose a little abruptly to his feet. He 
 had the air of one eager to dismiss the subject. 
 
 " Gentlemen," he announced, " I've heard your 
 views. In a few days' time you shall hear mine. 
 Only let me tell you this. To me you all seem to be 
 working and thinking on very narrow lines. Your 
 object seems to be the securing of small individual 
 benefits for your individual constituents. I think 
 that if we get to work together in this country, 
 there must be something more national in our aspir- 
 ations. That is all I have to say for the present. 
 As I think you know, I intend to make a pronounce- 
 ment of my own views at Manchester." 
 
 They all took their leave a little later. Maraton 
 himself saw them out and watched them across the 
 Square. Somehow or other, his depression had 
 visibly increased as he turned away. He had come 
 into contact lately, on the other side of the world, 
 with a different order of person men and women, 
 too, passionately, strenuously in earnest. They 
 were well-fed, prosperous individuals, these whom he 
 had just dismissed. Their politics were their busi- 
 ress, their position as Members of Parliament a 
 source of unmixed joy to all of them; hard-headed
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 57 
 
 men, very likely, good each in his own department; 
 beyond that, nothing. 
 
 He returned presently to his study, where Aaron 
 was already at work, typing letters. 
 
 " So that is your committee of Labour Members," 
 Maraton remarked, throwing himself into an easy 
 chair. 
 
 Aaron looked up. 
 
 " They are all sound men," he declared. " Peter 
 Dale, too, is a fine speaker." 
 
 Maraton sighed. 
 
 " Yet it isn't from them," he said quietly, " that 
 I can take a mandate. I must go to the people. I 
 couldn't even talk to them to-day. I couldn't take 
 them into my confidence. I couldn't show them the 
 things I have seen perhaps only in my dreams. I 
 don't suppose they would have listened. . . . How 
 many more letters, Aaron ? " 
 
 " Thirty-seven, sir." 
 
 Maraton rose to his feet. 
 
 " I shall walk for an hour or so," he announced. 
 " Get them ready for me to sign when I come in. 
 Have you a home, young man ? " 
 
 " None, sir," Aaron admitted. 
 
 " Excellent ! " Maraton declared cheerfully. 
 " These people with homes lose sight of the real 
 thing. What do you think of your Labour Mem- 
 bers, honestly, Aaron ? Ah, I can see that they have 
 been little gods to you ! Little tin gods, I am afraid, 
 Aaron. Do they know what it is to go hungry, I 
 wonder? Not often! . . . Get on with your letters. 
 I am going out."
 
 5 8 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 Maraton walked to the Park and sat down under- 
 neath the trees. There were a fair number of peo- 
 ple about, notwithstanding the hot weather, and very 
 soon he recognised Lady Elisabeth. She was walk- 
 ing back and forth along one of the side-walks, with 
 a little, fussy woman, golden-haired, and wearing a 
 gown of the brightest blue. Maraton watched them, 
 at first idly and then with interest. Lady Elisabeth, 
 in her cool muslin gown and simple hat, seemed to be 
 moving in a world of her own, into which her com- 
 panion's chatter but rarely penetrated. She walked 
 with a slow and delicate grace, not without a charac- 
 teristic touch of languor. Once or twice she looked 
 around her one might almost have imagined that 
 she was seeking escape from her companion and 
 on one of these occasions her eyes met Maraton's. 
 She stopped short. They were within a few feet of 
 one another, and Maraton rose to his feet. She 
 lowered her parasol and held out her hand. 
 
 " Only a very short time ago," she told him, " I 
 was wondering what you were doing. You know 
 that my uncle is expecting to see or hear from you 
 this afternoon? " 
 
 " I know," he admitted. " To tell you the truth, 
 I came out here to think. I could not quite make up 
 my mind what to say to him." 
 
 " It is strange that we should meet here," she 
 continued, " when Mr. Foley was talking to me about 
 you for so long this morning. He wished that he 
 had laid more emphasis upon the fact that your 
 coming to us at Lyndwood committed you to nothing. 
 No one is the worse off for hearing every point of
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 59 
 
 view, is he? My uncle will feel so much happier if 
 he really has had the opportunity of having a long, 
 uninterrupted talk with you." 
 
 Maraton smiled pleasantly. They were standing 
 in a crowded part of the walk and almost uncon- 
 sciously they commenced to move slowly along to- 
 gether. Lady Elisabeth turned to her companion. 
 
 " You must let me introduce Mr. Maraton to you," 
 she said. " This is Mr. Maraton Mrs. Bolling- 
 ton-Watts." 
 
 The little woman leaned forward and looked at 
 Maraton with undisguised curiosity. 
 
 " Forgive my starting at your name, won't you, 
 Mr. Maraton ? " she began. " It is uncommon, isn't 
 it, and I'm only just over from the States. I dare 
 say you read about all those awful doings in Chi- 
 cago." 
 
 Maraton, without direct reply, inclined his head. 
 Mrs. Bollington-Watts continued volubly. 
 
 " My brother is a judge out in Chicago. It was 
 he who signed the warrant for Maraton's arrest. I'm 
 afraid our people are getting much too scared, now- 
 adays, about that sort of thing. We don't seem 
 to be able to enforce our laws like you do over here. 
 They are all saying now that it ought to have been 
 served and the man shot if there had been any resist- 
 ance." 
 
 " In which case," Maraton remarked, " I should 
 not have had the pleasure of making your acquaint- 
 ance, Mrs. Bollington-Watts." 
 
 She stared at him for a moment, speechless 
 through sheer lack of comprehension. Then she
 
 60 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 glanced at Lady Elisabeth and the truth dawned upon 
 her. It was more than she could grapple with at 
 first, however. 
 
 "You? But Lady Elisabeth ? But you, Mr. 
 Maraton are you really the man who mur who 
 was associated with all that trouble in Chicago ? " 
 
 " I am, without a doubt, the man," Maraton as- 
 sented cheerfully. " I am an enemy of your class, 
 Mrs. Bollington-Watts. Your husband is the steel 
 millionaire, isn't he? And I am also a Socialist of 
 the most militant and modern type. Nevertheless, I 
 can assure you, for these few moments you are per- 
 fectly safe." 
 
 Mrs. Bollington-Watts drew a little breath. The 
 remarkable adaptability of her race came to her 
 rescue; her point of view swung round. 
 
 " Why," she declared, " I have never been so inter- 
 ested in my life. This is perfectly thrilling. Mr. 
 Maraton, I am having a few friends come in to-mor- 
 row evening. I should dearly love to give them a 
 surprise. Couldn't you just drop in for an hour? 
 Or, better still, if you could dine? I have taken 
 Lenchester House for a year. My, it would be good 
 to see their faces ! " 
 
 Maraton shook his head. 
 
 " Thank you very much, Mrs. Bollington-Watts," 
 he said, " but my visit to England is one of business 
 only. To be frank with you, I have no social exist- 
 ence, nor any desire to cultivate one." 
 
 " But you know Lady Elisabeth," the little woman 
 protested. 
 
 " I have the honour of knowing Lady Elisabeth
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 61 
 
 incidentally," Maraton replied. " If you will excuse 
 me now " 
 
 Mrs. Bollington-Watts turned aside to talk vigor- 
 ously to a passer-by. Lady Elisabeth laid her hand 
 upon his arm. 
 
 " Mr. Maraton," she said softly, " do make up 
 your mind. Please come to Lyndwood." 
 
 Her blue eyes were raised to his, fearlessly, appeal- 
 ingly. Maraton was more than ever conscious of 
 the delicate perfection of her person, her clear skin, 
 her silky brown hair. She was something new to 
 him in her sex. He knew quite well that a request 
 from her was an unusual thing. 
 
 "I will come, Lady Elisabeth," he promised 
 gravely. " Beyond that, of course, I can say noth- 
 ing. But I will come to Lyndwood." 
 
 The slight anxiety passed from her face like a 
 cloud. Her smile was positively brilliant. 
 
 " It is charming of you," she whispered. 
 
 Mrs. Bollington-Watts was once more free and 
 by their side. They moved on to the corner and 
 Maraton was on the point of taking his leave. Just 
 at that moment Mrs. Bollington-Watts gave a little 
 cry of amazement. A coach was drawn up by the 
 side of the path, and a young man who was driving 
 it, was looking down at them. Mrs. Bollington- 
 Watts stopped and waved her hand at him almost 
 frantically. 
 
 " Why, it's Freddy Lawes ! " she exclaimed. 
 " Why, Freddy, what on earth are you doing here? 
 If this isn't a surprise! They told me you never 
 moved from Paris, and I thought I'd have to come
 
 62 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 right over there to see you. . . . Well, I declare! 
 Freddy! why, Freddy, what's the matter?" 
 
 The words of Mrs. Bollington-Watts seemed as 
 though they had been spoken into empty air. The 
 young man was leaning forward in his place, the 
 reins loosely held in his hand, and a groom was 
 already upon the path, recovering the whip which 
 had slipped from his fingers. His eyes were fixed 
 not upon Mrs. Bollington-Watts nor upon Lady 
 Elisabeth, but upon Maraton. He was a young man 
 of harmless and commonplace appearance but his 
 features were at that moment transformed. His 
 mouth was strained and quivering, his eyes were lit 
 with something very much like horror. Some words 
 certainly left his lips, but they did not carry to the 
 hearing of any one of those three people. He looked 
 at Maraton with the fierce, terrified intentness of 
 one who looks upon a spectre!
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 Mrs. Bollington-Watts' shrill voice once more 
 broke the silence, which, although it was a matter of 
 seconds only, was not without a certain peculiar dra- 
 matic quality. 
 
 " Say, what's wrong with you, Freddy? You 
 don't think I'm a ghost, do you? Can't you come 
 down and talk ? " 
 
 The spell, whatever it may have been, had passed. 
 The young man lifted his hat and leaned over the 
 side of the coach. 
 
 " I won't get down just now, Amy," he said. 
 " Tell me where you are and I'll come and see you. 
 How's Richard?" 
 
 Maraton, obeying a gesture from Lady Elisabeth, 
 moved away with her, leaving Mrs. Bollington-Watts 
 absorbed in a flood of family questions and answers. 
 
 " Come back with me now, won't you ? " she asked, 
 a little abruptly. " My uncle is restless and unwell 
 this afternoon, and it will perhaps relieve him to 
 have your decision." 
 
 "What about Mrs. Bollington-Watts?" 
 
 Lady Elisabeth glanced at him for a moment. 
 Her eyebrows were slightly lifted. 
 
 " If you can bear to lose her, I'm sure I can. She 
 is really rather a dear person but she is very intense. 
 She will meet a crowd of people she knows, directly,
 
 64 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 and quite forget that we have slipped away. Shall 
 we go down Birdcage Walk, or if you are in a hurry, 
 perhaps you would prefer a taxi ? " 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 " I prefer to walk." 
 
 He did not at first prove a very entertaining com- 
 panion. They proceeded for some distance almost 
 in silence. 
 
 " If I were a curious person," Lady Elisabeth re- 
 marked, " I should certainly be puzzling my brain as 
 to what there could have been about that very frivol- 
 ous young man to call such an expression into your 
 face. And how terrified he was to see you ! " 
 
 Maraton smiled grimly. 
 
 " You have observation, I perceive, Lady Elisa- 
 beth." 
 
 " Powers of observation but no curiosity, thank 
 goodness," Lady Elisabeth declared. " Perhaps that 
 is just as well, for I can see that you are going to 
 turn out to be a very mysterious person." 
 
 " In some respects I believe that I am," he assented 
 equably. " My peculiar beliefs are responsible for 
 a good deal, you see and certain circumstances. 
 . . . But tell me we have both agreed to be frank 
 why have you changed your attitude towards me 
 so completely? I scarcely dared to hope even for 
 your recognition this morning." 
 
 She was suddenly thoughtful. 
 
 " That was the very question I was asking myself 
 when we crossed the street just now," she remarked, 
 with a faint smile. 
 
 Maraton was conscious of a curious and undefined
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 65 
 
 sense of pleasure in her words. In the act of cross- 
 ing he had held her arm for a few moments, and 
 though her assent to his physical guidance had been 
 purely negative, there was yet something about it 
 which had given him a vague pleasure. Instinctively 
 he knew that she was of the order of women to whom 
 the merest touch from a man whom they disliked would 
 have been torture. 
 
 " I think," she went on, " that it is because I am 
 trying to adopt my uncle's point of view towards you." 
 
 " And what is your uncle's point of view ? " 
 
 " He believes you," she declared, " to be a very 
 dangerous person, a rabid enthusiast with brains and 
 also stability the most difficult order of person in 
 the world to deal with." 
 
 "Anything else?" 
 
 " He believes you," she continued, " to be harmless 
 enough at a wholesome period of our country's his- 
 tory. Just now, he told me yesterday, that he con- 
 sidered it was within your power to bring something 
 very much like ruin upon the country." 
 
 Maraton was silent. He felt singularly indisposed 
 for argument. Every condition of life just then 
 seemed too pleasant. They were walking in the 
 shade, and a soft west wind was rustling in the trees 
 above their heads. 
 
 " There are, after all," she said, " so many happy 
 people in the world. Is it worth while to drag down 
 the pillars, to bring so much misery into the world 
 for the sake of a dream ? " 
 
 " I am no dreamer," he insisted quietly. " It is 
 possible to make absolute laws for the future with.
 
 66 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 the same precision as one can extract examples from 
 the history of the past." 
 
 " But human nature," she objected, " is always a 
 shifting quality." 
 
 " Only in detail. The heart and lungs of it are the 
 same in all ages." 
 
 They crossed the road and turned into St. James's 
 Park. He paused for a moment to look at the front 
 of Buckingham Palace. 
 
 " A hateful sight to you, of course," she murmured. 
 
 " Not in the least," he assured her. " On the con- 
 trary, I think that the actual government of this 
 country is wonderful. I suppose my creed of life 
 would command a halter from any one who heard it, 
 but I raise my hat always to your King." 
 
 " It is going to take me ages," she sighed, " to 
 understand you." 
 
 " I will supply you with the necessary signposts," 
 he promised. " Perhaps you will find then that the 
 task will become almost too easy. For me I am 
 afraid it will prove too short." 
 
 She turned her head and looked at him curiously. 
 There was something provocative in the curl of her 
 lips and in her monosyllabic question. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because when you have arrived at a complete 
 understanding," he declared, " I fear we shall have 
 reached the parting of our ways." 
 
 She looked steadfastly ahead. 
 
 " Wouldn't that rather rest with you? " she asked. 
 
 They passed a flower-barrow, wonderfully laden, 
 and she half stopped with a little exclamation.
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 67 
 
 " Oh, I must have some of those white roses ! " she 
 begged. " They fit in at this moment with one of 
 my only superstitions." 
 
 He bought her a great handful. She held them 
 in both hands and gave him her parasol to carry. 
 
 " Mine is an inherited superstition, so I will not 
 be ashamed of it," she told him. " We have always 
 believed that white roses bring happiness, especially 
 if they come accidentally at a critical moment." 
 
 He glanced behind at the retreating figure of the 
 flower woman. 
 
 " If happiness is so easily purchased," he said, 
 " what a pity it is that I did not buy the barrowf ul ! " 
 
 " It isn't a matter of quantity at all," she assured 
 him. " One blossom would have been enough and 
 you were really frightfully extravagant." 
 
 She drifted into silence. They were walking east- 
 wards now, and before them was the great yellow 
 haze which hung over the sun-enveloped city, a haze 
 which stretched across the whole arc of the heavens, 
 and underneath which were toiling the millions to 
 whom his life was consecrated. For a moment the 
 grim inappropriateness of these hours struck him 
 with a pang of remorse. He felt almost like a traitor 
 to be walking with this slim, beautiful girl whose face 
 was hidden from him now in the mass of white blos- 
 soms. And then his sense of proportion came to 
 the rescue. He knew that he had but one desire 
 to work out his ends by the most effective means. It 
 did not even disturb him to reflect that for the first 
 time for many years he had found pleasure in what 
 was merely an interlude.
 
 68 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 " We turn here," she directed. " You see, we are 
 close to home now. My uncle will be so glad to see 
 you, Mr. Maraton, and I cannot tell you how de- 
 lighted I am that you are coming to Lyndwood." 
 
 " I only hope," he said a little gravely, " that 
 your uncle will not expect too much from my com- 
 ing. It seems churlish to refuse, and even though 
 our views are as far apart as the poles, I know 
 that your uncle means well." 
 
 She smiled at him delightfully. 
 
 " I refuse to be depressed even by your solemn 
 looks," she declared. " It is my twenty-fourth birth- 
 day to-day and I am still young enough to cling to 
 my optimism." 
 
 " Your birthday," he remarked. " I should have 
 brought you an offering." 
 
 She held up the roses. 
 
 " Nothing in the world," she assured him softly, 
 " could have given me more pleasure than these. 
 Now I am going to take you first into a little den 
 where you will not be disturbed, and then fetch my 
 uncle," she added, as they passed into the house. " I 
 shall pray for your mutual conversion. You won't 
 mind a very feminine room, will you? Just now 
 there are certain to be callers at any moment, and 
 my uncle's rooms are liable to all manner of intru- 
 sions." 
 
 She threw open the door and ushered him into what 
 seemed indeed to be a little fairy chamber, a chamber 
 with yellow walls and yellow rug, white furniture, 
 oddments of china and photographs, silver-grey etch- 
 ings, water-colour landscapes, piles of books and
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 69 
 
 magazines. On a small table stood a yellow Sevres 
 vase, full of roses. 
 
 " It's a horrible place for a man to sit in," she 
 said, looking around her. " You must take that 
 wicker chair and throw away as many cushions as 
 you like. Now I am going to fetch my uncle, and 
 remember, please," she concluded, looking back at 
 him from the door, " if I have seemed frivolous this 
 morning, I am not always so. More than anything 
 I am looking forward, down at Lyndwood, to have 
 you, if you will, talk to me seriously." 
 
 " Shall I dare to argue with you, I wonder ? " he 
 asked. 
 
 She smiled at him. 
 
 " Why not ? A matter of courage ? " 
 
 " The bravest person in the world," he declared, 
 " remembers always that little proverb about dis- 
 cretion."
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 The conference between Mr. Foley and Maraton 
 was brief enough. The former arrived a few mo- 
 ments after his niece's departure. 
 
 " I have come," Maraton announced, as they shook 
 hands, " to accept your invitation to Lyndwood. 
 You understand, I am sure, that that commits me 
 to nothing? " 
 
 Mr. Foley's expression was one of intense relief. 
 
 " Naturally," he replied. " I quite understand 
 that. I am delighted to think that you are coming 
 at all. May I ask whether you have conferred with 
 your friends about the matter? '* 
 
 Maraton shook his head. 
 
 "I have not even mentioned it to them. I met 
 what I understand to be a committee of the Labour 
 Party this morning a Mr. Dale, Abraham Weavel, 
 Culvain, Samuel Borden and David Ross. Those 
 were the names so far as I can remember. I did not 
 mention my proposed visit to you at all. There 
 seemed to me to be no necessity. I am subject to 
 no one here." 
 
 Mr. Foley smiled. 
 
 " They won't like it," he declared frankly. 
 
 " Their liking or disliking it will not affect the 
 situation in the least," Maraton assured him. " I 
 shall come, without a doubt. It will interest me to
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 71 
 
 hear what you have to say, although unfortunately I 
 cannot hold out the slightest hope " 
 
 " That is entirely understood," Mr. Foley inter- 
 rupted. " Now how will you come ? Lyndwood 
 Park is just sixty miles from London. To-day is 
 Friday, isn't it? I shall motor down there some- 
 time to-morrow. Why won't you come down with 
 me?" 
 
 Maraton shook his head. 
 
 " If you will excuse me," he said, " I will not fix 
 any time definitely. I have a good deal of corre- 
 spondence still to attend to, and there is one little 
 matter which might keep me in town till the after- 
 noon." 
 
 " Let me send a car up for you," Mr. Foley sug- 
 gested. 
 
 " Thank you," Maraton replied, " I have already 
 hired one for a time." 
 
 " Then come just at what time suits you," Mr. 
 Foley begged, " the sooner the better, of course. 
 Apart from that, I shall be about the place all 
 day." 
 
 In Buckingham Gate, Maraton came slowly to a 
 standstill. The coach which he had seen in the Park 
 an hour ago was drawn up in front of a large hotel. 
 The young man who was driving it had just come 
 down the steps and was drawing on his gloves. They 
 met almost face to face. 
 
 " Am I to speak to you? " the young man asked. 
 
 " You had better," Maraton assented. " Tell me 
 what you are doing here ? " 
 
 " I was bored with Paris," the young man answered.
 
 72 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 " My friends were all coming here. I had no idea 
 that we were likely to meet." 
 
 Maraton looked at him thoughtfully. As they 
 stood face to face at that moment, there was a cer- 
 tain strange likeness between them, a likeness of the 
 husk only. 
 
 " I do not wish to interfere with your movements," 
 Maraton said calmly. " Where you are is nothing 
 to me. I proposed that you should remain away 
 from London simply because I fancied that it would 
 be easier for you to observe the conditions which exist 
 between us. So long as you remember them, how- 
 ever, your whereabouts are indifferent to me." 
 
 The young man laughed a little nervously. 
 
 " You're not over-cordial ! " 
 
 Maraton shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " The world in which you live," he remarked, " is 
 a training school, I suppose, for false sentiment. 
 The slight kinship that there is between us is of no 
 account to me. I simply remind you once more that 
 it is to your advantage to neither know me or to 
 know of me. Remember that, and it may be London 
 or Paris or New York wherever you choose." 
 
 The young man remounted his coach, and Maraton 
 passed on. He walked without a pause to the square 
 in which his house was situated. Here he found 
 Aaron hard at work and, sitting down at once, he 
 began to sign his letters. 
 
 " No end of people have been here," Aaron 
 announced. " I have got rid of them all." 
 
 " Good ! " Maraton said shortly. " By-the-bye, 
 Aaron, isn't there a meeting to-night at the Clarion? "
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 73 
 
 Aaron nodded. 
 
 " David Ross is going to speak. He can move 
 them when he starts. My sister is going to call here 
 for me, and I thought if you didn't want me, I'd like 
 to go." 
 
 " We will all go together," Maraton decided. " We 
 can creep in somewhere at the back, I suppose. I 
 want to hear how they do it." 
 
 The young man's face lit up with joy. 
 
 " There's sure to be lots of people there, 5 ' he de- 
 clared, " but we can find a seat at the back quite 
 easily." 
 
 " What's it all about? " Maraton asked. 
 
 " The proposed boiler-maker's strike," Aaron re- 
 plied eagerly. " The meeting is really a meeting of 
 the workpeople at Boulding's. But are you sure you 
 won't go on the platform, sir ? " 
 
 Maraton shook his head. 
 
 " That is just what I don't want to do. I want 
 to see what these meetings are like, what sort of argu- 
 ments are used, what the spirit of the people is, if I 
 can. That is what I would really like to find out, 
 Aaron the spirit of the people." 
 
 The young man looked up from his work. He was 
 greatly changed during the last few hours. He was 
 wearing a new suit of clothes and clean linen; his 
 hair had been cut, his face shaved. Yet in some 
 respects he was unaltered. His eyes still burned in 
 their sockets, his lips still quivered. 
 
 " I will tell you what the people are like," he said. 
 " They are like dumb animals, like sheep. They have 
 suffered so long and so much that their nerve power
 
 74 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 is numbed. They lack will, they lack initiative. 
 They are narrowed down to a daily life which makes 
 of them, something little different from an animal. 
 Yet they can be roused. David Ross himself has 
 done it, done it like none of those other M.P's. I 
 have seen him carried out of himself. He is like 
 some of these Welshmen and Salvation Army people 
 when they're half drunk with religion the words 
 seem to come to them in a stream. That's how David 
 Ross is sometimes. But it isn't often any one can get 
 at them." 
 
 " That is what they say over on the other side," 
 he remarked softly. 
 
 " They've got to be in such a state," Aaron con- 
 tinued, " that nothing appeals to them except some 
 material benefit ; a pipe of tobacco or a mug of beer 
 will stir them more than any dream of freedom. Oh ! 
 it's sad to see them, often. I used to go to the gates 
 at the shipbuilding yard and watch them come out. 
 Ten years about does for a man there. It's a short 
 spell." 
 
 Maraton sighed. 
 
 " Yet they endure," he muttered to himself. 
 
 " Yet they endure," Aaron echoed. " Can't you 
 see why? Don't you know that it is because they 
 haven't heard the word the one great word ? 
 That's what they're waiting for for the prophet 
 to open their eyes and lead them out of the wilder- 
 ness. Only just at first it may be that even his voice 
 will sound in vain. You are sure you won't mind 
 my sister coming with us, sir? She is so interested 
 and they all know her down there."
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 75 
 
 " It will be an advantage to have your sister," 
 Maraton replied. " There are many things I should 
 like to ask her."
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 At twenty minutes past eight, Maraton, with his 
 two companions, reached the building in which the 
 meeting was to take place a plain, unimposing- 
 looking edifice, built for a chapel, whitewashed inside, 
 but with plastered walls and bare floors. The room 
 was almost packed, and it was with some difficulty 
 that they found seats in the back row. David Ross, 
 Peter Dale and Graveling occupied chairs on the plat- 
 form. Between them, Julia and Aaron kept Maraton 
 informed as to the identity of each newcomer. 
 
 " That's Mr. Docker, who is going to speak now," 
 the latter declared in an excited whisper. " He is a 
 fighting man. It's he who has manoeuvred this strike, 
 they say. Now he's off." 
 
 Mr. Docker has risen to his feet amidst a little 
 hoarse cheering. For a quarter of an hour or more, 
 he spoke fluently and convincingly. It appeared from 
 his statements that boiler-makers were the worst paid 
 mechanics in the universe, that it was he who had 
 discovered this, that it was he who had drawn up the 
 ultimatum which had been presented to the masters 
 and refused. His peroration was friendly but ap- 
 pealing. 
 
 " There are some amongst Boulding's people," he 
 wound up, " who, they tell me, are satisfied. If so, 
 I hope they are not here. They haven't any place
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 77 
 
 here. To them I would say * If you are satisfied 
 with twenty-four shillings a week, well, don't waste a 
 penny in subscribing to the Unions, but go and spend 
 your twenty-four shillings a week and live on it and 
 enjoy it, and get fat on it if you can.' But to those 
 others I want to say that it's just as easy to get 
 twenty-eight. The masters don't want you to strike 
 just now. You only have to be firm and you can get 
 what's fair and right." 
 
 A man rose up in the hall. 
 
 " Is it true," he asked, " that Boulding's won't pay 
 the advance ? - that they are going to close the doors 
 to-morrow if we insist upon it ? " 
 
 " It is true," Mr. Docker answered. " Are you 
 afraid of that?" 
 
 The man hesitated. 
 
 " I don't know as ' afraid ' is exactly the word," 
 he said, " but I don't fancy being out of work for a 
 month or so, and perhaps losing my job at the end of 
 it. Fifteen bob a week from the Union won't keep 
 my little lot." 
 
 There was a murmur of applause. Docker pointed 
 with threatening forefinger to the man who had just 
 sat down. 
 
 " It's the likes of him," he declared, " who keep 
 down wages, who make slaves of us ! The likes of 
 him, who haven't the pluck to ask for what they might 
 get at any time ! " 
 
 He plunged into facts and figures, and Maraton 
 more than once yawned. He seemed to find more 
 interest in watching the faces of the audience than in 
 listening to the stock arguments which were being
 
 78 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 thrown at their heads. A little cloud of tobacco 
 smoke hung about the room. There were few women 
 present, and most of the men were smoking. On the 
 whole they were a very earnest gathering. There 
 were very few there who were not deeply interested. 
 Julia was listening to every word, her head resting 
 upon her hand, her lips a little parted, her eyes full 
 of smouldering fires. At the end of Docker's speech, 
 one of the Union officials got up on his feet. It 
 was for the men themselves to decide, he said. They 
 had subscribed the money; it was for them to say 
 whether it should be used. Was the moment pro- 
 pitious for a blow on behalf of their rights? If 
 they thought so, then let it be war. If they asked 
 for his advice, they were welcome to it. His advice 
 was to fight. The masters had refused their rea- 
 sonable ultimatum. Let the masters try and carry 
 out their contracts without work people! That was 
 his way of looking at it. 
 
 There was a rumble of applause. The militants 
 were certainly in the majority. A man got up from 
 one of the front rows. 
 
 " I propose," he said, " that we strike to-morrow. 
 They are working us as hard as they can in shifts 
 on special jobs now, in case they should get left. 
 Every hour we work makes it better for them. I 
 say * Strike!'" 
 
 There was a thunder of applause. A ballot box 
 was brought and placed on a table in front of the 
 platform. 
 
 " They will strike," Aaron muttered, " three 
 thousand of them ! Splendid ! '*
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 79 
 
 Maraton shook his head. 
 
 " It is piecemeal work, this. They do not under- 
 stand." 
 
 " They do not understand what? " Julia asked 
 him, turning her head swiftly. 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " They will ask for five shillings a week more and 
 get half-a-crown," he said. " Half-a-crown a week ! 
 What difference can it make? Do you know what 
 Boulding's put on one side for distribution to their 
 shareholders last year? what they put to their 
 reserve fund? Why, it was a fortune 1" 
 
 A man from somewhere at the back of the hall 
 climbed on to a seat to get a better view and suddenly 
 pointed out Maraton to his neighbours. A little 
 murmur arose from the vicinity. Some one men- 
 tioned his name. The cry was taken up from the 
 other side of the hall. 
 
 "Maraton!" 
 
 "Maraton!" 
 
 Maraton sat back, frowning. The cries, however, 
 became more insistent. The occupants of the plat- 
 form were leaning forward towards him. The chair- 
 man rose to his feet and beckoned. With obvious 
 reluctance, Maraton moved a few steps to the front. 
 From the far corners of the ill-lit hall, white-faced 
 men climbed on to the benches, peering through the 
 cloud of smoke which hung almost like fog about 
 the place. They saluted him in all manner of ways 
 with cat-calls, hurrahs, stamping of feet, clapping 
 of hands. Maraton, who had climbed up on to the 
 platform, was soon surrounded.
 
 8o A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 Dale held out his hand. 
 
 " Thought you weren't going to honour us here, 
 Mr. Maraton," he remarked gruffly. 
 
 " I had not meant to," Maraton replied. " I 
 came as one of the audience. I wanted to hear, to 
 understand if I could." 
 
 Dale stretched out his hand. 
 
 " This is Mr. Docker," he said, performing the 
 introduction. " Mr. Docker Mr. Maraton." 
 
 " Come to support us, sir, I hope ? " the former 
 remarked. 
 
 " I came to listen," Maraton answered. " To tell 
 you the truth, it's against my views, this, an indi- 
 vidual strike." 
 
 They were calling to him now from the front. 
 Mr. Docker's reply was inaudible. 
 
 " You'll have to say a few words," Dale insisted. 
 " They'll never leave off until you do." 
 
 Maraton nodded and turned towards the audience. 
 He stood looking down at them for a moment or two, 
 without speech. Even after silence had been estab- 
 lished he seemed to be at a loss as to exactly what 
 to say. When at last he did speak, it was in an 
 easy and conversational manner. There was no 
 sign of the fire or the frenzy with which he had 
 kindled the enthusiasms of the people of the United 
 States. 
 
 " I find it rather hard to know exactly what to say 
 to you," he began. " I am glad to be here and I 
 have come to this country to work for you, if I 
 may. But, you know, I have views of my own, and 
 it isn't a very auspicious occasion for me to stand
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 81 
 
 for the first time upon an English platform. I came 
 as one of the audience to-night and I have listened 
 to all that has been said. I don't think that I am 
 in favour of your strike." 
 
 There was a murmur of wonder, mingled with dis- 
 content. 
 
 " Why not? " some one shouted from the back. 
 
 " Aye, why not ? " a dozen voices echoed. 
 
 " I'll try and tell you, if you like," Maraton con- 
 tinued. " I didn't mean to say anything until after 
 Manchester, but I'll tell you roughly what my scheme 
 is. These individual strikes such as you're planning 
 are just like pinpricks on the hide of an elephant. 
 How many are there of you? A thousand, say? 
 Well, you thousand may get a shilling or two a week 
 more. It won't alter your condition of life. It 
 won't do much for you, any way. You* will have 
 spent your money, and in a year or two the masters 
 M'ill be taking it out of you some other way. A 
 strike such as you are proposing causes inconve- 
 nience no more. I'd bigger things in my mind for 
 you." 
 
 He hesitated for a moment as though uncertain, 
 even now, whether to go on. Glancing around the 
 hall, his eyes for a moment met Julia's. Something 
 in her still face, the almost passionate enquiry of her 
 wonderful eyes, seemed to decide him. He lifted up 
 his hands, his voice grew in volume. 
 
 " Let me tell you what I want, then. Let me tell 
 you the dream which others have had before me, 
 which is laughed to scorn by the enemies of the 
 people, but which grows in substance and shape, year
 
 82 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 by year. I want to teach you how to smash th* 
 individual capitalist. I want to teach you how to 
 frame laws which will bring the wealth of this coun- 
 try into a new and saner distribution. I want to 
 teach you the folly of the old ideas that because of 
 the wretched conditions in which you live, the better 
 educated man, the man better equipped mentally and 
 physically for his job, must gather to himself the 
 wealth and you must become his slaves. What do 
 you suppose, in the course of three or four gener- 
 ations, produces men of different mental and physical 
 calibre ? I will tell you. The circumstances of their 
 bringing-up, the life they have to lead, their educa- 
 tion, their environment. What chance have you 
 under present conditions? None! For very shame, 
 as the years pass on, you operatives will be better 
 paid. \\JJiat will it amount to? A few shillings a 
 week more, the same life, the same anxieties, the same 
 daily grinding toil, brainless, machine-like, leading 
 you nowhere because there isn't a way out. There 
 will still remain your masters ; there will still remain 
 you, the men. Can't you see what it is that I am 
 aiming at? I want to make a great machine of all 
 the industries of this country. The man with the 
 gift for figures will find himself in the office, and 
 the man with lesser brain power will find himself 
 before a machine. But the two will be working for 
 one aim and one end. They will both be parts of 
 the machine, and for their livelihood they will take 
 what that machine produces, distributed in a scien- 
 tific and exact ratio. It's co-operation over again, 
 you say? Very well, call it that. Only I tell you
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 83 
 
 why co-operation has failed up till now. It's because 
 you've been in too much of a hurry. I am going 
 to appeal to you presently, not for your own inter- 
 ests but in the interests of your children and your 
 children's children, because the better days that are 
 to come for you won't dawn yet awhile. It may be, 
 even, that you will be called upon to make sacrifices, 
 instead of finding yourselves better off. There are 
 some great changes which time alone can govern." 
 
 " What about this strike ? " some one shouted from 
 the bottom of the hall. 
 
 " You are quite right, sir," Maraton replied 
 swiftly. " I've wandered a little from my point. I 
 think that the first thing I said to you was that this 
 strike, if it took place, would be like the pinprick 
 on an elephant's hide. I want to teach you how to 
 stab!" 
 
 There was a murmur of voices approving this 
 time, at any rate. 
 
 " Can't you see," Maraton continued, " that So- 
 ciety can easily deal with one strike at a time ? That 
 isn't the way to make yourself felt. What I want 
 to see in this country is a simultaneous strike of 
 wharfingers, dock labourers, railways, and all the 
 means of communication; a strike which will stop 
 the pulses of the nation, a strike which will cost hun- 
 dreds of miUions, a strike which may cost this 
 country its place amongst the nations, but which 
 will mark the dawn of new conditions. I'd put out 
 your forge fires from Glasgow to Sheffield and Shef- 
 field to London. I'd take the big risks the riot- 
 ing, the revolutions, the starvation, the misery that
 
 84 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 will surely come. I'd do that for the sake of the 
 new nation which would start again where the old 
 one perished." 
 
 There was a sudden burst of applause. A little 
 thrill seemed to have found its way, like zig-zag 
 lightning, here and there amongst them. But there 
 were many who sat and smoked in stolid silence. 
 Maraton looked into their faces and sighed to him- 
 self. There were too many hungry people for his 
 mission. 
 
 " We are half starved," a man called from the 
 back of the hall. " My wage is a pound a week and 
 four children to keep. It's fine talk, yours, but it 
 won't feed 'em." 
 
 There was a murmur of sullen approval. Mara- 
 ton's hand shot out, his finger quivered as it pointed 
 to the man. 
 
 " I don't blame you," he said, " but it's the cry 
 you've just raised which keeps you and a few other 
 millions exactly in the places you occupy. There are 
 many generations as yet unborn, to come from your 
 children and your children's children. Are they, 
 then, to suffer as you have suffered? " 
 
 There was a little stir at the back of the platform. 
 A tall, broad-shouldered man pushed his way through 
 to the front. His face was pitted with smallpox; 
 he had black, wiry hair; small, narrow eyes; a large, 
 brutal mouth. He took up his position in the middle 
 of the platform, ignoring Maraton altogether. 
 
 " Listen, lads," he began ; " you are here to-night 
 to decide whether or not you want another half- 
 crown on to your wages. This man who has been
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 85 
 
 talking to you has done big things in America. I 
 know nothing about him and I'm not rightly sure 
 that I know what's at the back of his head. If he 
 is your friend, he's our friend, and we shall soon fall 
 into line, but to-night you're here to meet about that 
 half-crown. It's for you to say whether or no you'll 
 have it. We've saved the money for the fight, saved 
 it from your wages, got it with your sweat. You've 
 given up your beer for it aye, and maybe your 
 baccy. We've saved the money and the time's come 
 to fight. All that he says" jerking his elbow 
 towards Maraton " sounds good enough. That'll 
 come in later. Are you for the strike ? " 
 
 There was no doubt about the reply a roar of 
 approving voices. Maraton smiled at them and 
 stepped down from the platform. For the moment 
 he was forgotten. Only Julia whispered passion- 
 ately in his ear as they moved out of the place. 
 
 " You should have gone on. They didn't under- 
 stand. They have waited so long, they could have 
 waited a little longer." 
 
 Maraton did not answer until they reached the 
 street. Then he stood a few steps in the background, 
 watching the people as they came out. 
 
 " I couldn't," he said simply. " I felt as though 
 I were offering stones for bread. The stones were 
 better, perhaps, but the cruelty was the same."
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 Maraton walked alone with Elisabeth on the fol- 
 lowing afternoon in the flower garden at Lyndwood. 
 She was apologising for some unexpected additions 
 to the number of their guests. 
 
 " Mother always forgets whom she has asked down 
 for the week-end," she said, " and my uncle is far 
 too sweet about it. I know that he wanted to have 
 as much time as possible alone with you before Mon- 
 day. It is on Monday you go to Manchester, 
 isn't it?" 
 
 " On Monday," he answered, a little absently. " I 
 have to make my bow to the democracy of your 
 country in the evening." 
 
 " I wish I could make up my mind, Mr. Maraton," 
 she continued, " whether you have come over here 
 for good or for evil." 
 
 " For evil that good may come of it, I am afraid," 
 he rejoined, " would be the kindest interpretation 
 you could put upon my enterprise here." 
 
 " The Spectator calls you the Missionary of Un- 
 rest." 
 
 " The Spectator, I am afraid, will become more vio- 
 lent later on." 
 
 " Let us sit down here for a moment," she sug- 
 gested, pointing to a seat. "You see, we are just
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 87 
 
 at the top of this long pathway, and we get a view 
 of the roses all the way down." 
 
 " It is very beautiful," he admitted, " far too 
 beautiful." 
 
 She raised her eyebrows. 
 
 "Too beautiful? Is that possible?" 
 
 " Without a doubt," he declared. " Too much 
 beauty is as bad as too little." 
 
 " And why is that ? Surely it must be good for 
 one to be surrounded by inspiring things? " 
 
 " I am not sure that beauty does inspire anything 
 except content," he answered, smiling. " I call this 
 garden of yours, for instance, a most vicious place, 
 a perfect lotus-eater's Paradise. Positively, I feel 
 the energy slipping out of my bones as I sit here." 
 
 " Then you shall be chained to that seat," she 
 threatened. " You will not be able to go to Man- 
 chester and make trouble, and my uncle will be able 
 to sleep at nights." 
 
 " I feel that everything in life is slipping away 
 from me," he protested. " I ought to be thinking 
 over what I am going to say to your country people, 
 and instead of that I am wondering whether there is 
 anything more beautiful in the world than the blue 
 haze over your meadows." 
 
 She laughed, and moved her parasol a little so 
 that she could see him better. 
 
 " You know," she said, " my uncle declares that 
 if only you could be taught to imbibe a little more 
 of the real philosophy of living, you would become 
 quite a desirable person." 
 
 " And what is the real philosophy of living? "
 
 88 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 " Just now, with him, it is the laissez faire, the 
 non-interference with the essential forces of life, 
 especially the forces that concern other people," she 
 explained. 
 
 He looked at her, a little startled. What instinct, 
 he wondered, had led her to place her finger upon the 
 one poison spot in his thoughts? 
 
 " I can see," he remarked, " that I have found my 
 way into a dangerous neighbourhood." 
 
 She changed her position a little, so as to face 
 him. Her blue eyes were lit with laughter, her lips 
 mocked him. Usually reserved, she seemed at that 
 moment to be inspired with an instinct which was 
 something almost more than coquetry. She leaned 
 a little towards him. The aloofness of her carriage 
 and manner had suddenly disappeared. He was con- 
 scious of the perfection of her white muslin gown, of 
 the shape of her neck, the delicate lines and grace of 
 her slim young body. 
 
 " You shall be chained here," she repeated. " My 
 uncle has a new theory of individualism. He thinks 
 that if no one tried to improve anybody, the world 
 would be so much more livable a place. Shall we sit 
 at his feet?" 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 " I am not brave," he said, " but I am at least 
 discreet." 
 
 " Do you think that you are ? " she asked him 
 quietly. " Do you think that you are discreet in the 
 sense of being wise? Are you sure that you are using 
 your gifts for the best purpose, for yourself and 
 other people? "
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 89 
 
 " No one can be sure," he replied. " I only follow 
 my star." 
 
 " Then are you sure that it is your star? " 
 
 " No one can ever mistake that," he declared. 
 " Sometimes one may lose one's way, and one may 
 even falter if the path is rugged. But the star re- 
 mains." 
 
 She sighed. Her eyes seemed to have wandered 
 away. He felt that it was a trick to avoid looking 
 at him for the moment. 
 
 " I do not want you to go to Manchester on Mon- 
 day in your present mood," she said. " I hate to 
 think of you up there, the stormy petrel, the apostle 
 of unrest and sedition. If I were a Roman woman, 
 I think that I would poison you to-night at dinner- 
 time." 
 
 " Quite an idea," he remarked. " I am not at all 
 sure that our having become too civilised for crime 
 is a healthy sign of the times." 
 
 " I do wish," she persisted, " that you would try 
 and see things a little more humanly. My uncle is 
 full of enthusiasms about you. You have had some 
 conversation already, haven't you ? " 
 
 " We talked for an hour after luncheon," Maraton 
 admitted. " Your uncle's is a very sane point of 
 view. I know just how he regards me a sort of 
 dangerous enthusiast, a firebrand with the knack of 
 commanding attention. The worst of it is that when 
 I am with him, he almost makes me feel like that 
 myself." 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 " All men of genius," she declared, " must be im-
 
 go A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 pressionable. We ought to set ourselves to discover 
 your weak point." 
 
 He smiled at her with upraised eyebrows. There 
 were times when he seemed to her like a boy. 
 
 " Haven't you discovered it? " 
 
 She made a little face and swung her parasol 
 around. When she spoke again, she was very grave. 
 
 " Mr. Maraton," she begged, " please will you 
 promise that before you go away, you will talk to 
 me again for a few minutes ? " 
 
 " It is a promise easily made ! " he replied. 
 
 " But I mean seriously." 
 
 " I will talk to you at any time, anyhow you wish," 
 he promised. 
 
 She rose to her feet then. 
 
 " For the present you have promised to play ten- 
 nis," she reminded him. " Please go and change 
 your things." 
 
 " I must have a yellow rosebud for my button- 
 hole," he begged. 
 
 She arranged it herself in his coat. He laughed 
 as she swept aside a wisp of her hair which brushed 
 his cheek. 
 
 " What a picture for the photographic Press of 
 America ! " he exclaimed. " The anarchist of Chi- 
 cago and the Prime Minister's niece ! " 
 
 " What is an anarchist ? " she asked him abruptly. 
 
 He opened the little iron gate which led out of the 
 garden. 
 
 " A sower of fire and destruction," he answered, 
 " a highly unpleasant person to meet when he's in 
 earnest."
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 91 
 
 She looked into his face for a moment with a wist- 
 fulness which was almost passionate. 
 
 " Please tell me at once, that you aren't " 
 
 He pointed back to the garden. 
 
 " We have come out of the land of confessions. 
 On this side of the gate I am your uncle's guest, and 
 I mustn't be teased with questions." 
 
 " Before you go," she threatened, " I shall take 
 you back into the rose-garden." 
 
 From their wicker chairs drawn under a great 
 cedar tree, Mr. Foley and Lord Armley, perhaps the 
 most distinguished of his colleagues, watched the 
 slow approach of the two from the flower gardens. 
 Lord Armley, who had only arrived during the last 
 half hour, was recovering from a fit of astonishment. 
 He had just been told of his fellow guest. 
 
 " Granted, even, that the man is as dangerous as 
 you say," he remarked, " it is certainly creating a 
 new precedent for you to bring him into the bosom 
 of your family. Is it conversion, bribery, or poison 
 that you have in your thoughts ? " 
 
 " Influence, if possible," Mr. Foley answered. 
 " Somehow or other, I have always detected in his 
 writing a vein of common sense." 
 
 " What the dickens is common sense ! " Lord 
 Armley growled. 
 
 "Shall I say a sense of the fitness of things?" 
 the Prime Minister replied, " a sense of propor- 
 tion, perhaps? Notwithstanding his extraordinary 
 speeches in America, I believe that to some extent 
 Maraton possesses it. Anyhow, it seemed to me to 
 be worth trying. One couldn't face the idea of let-
 
 9 2 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 ting him go up north just now without making an 
 effort." 
 
 " Things are really serious there," Lord Armley 
 muttered. 
 
 " Worse than any of us know," Mr. Foley agreed. 
 " If you hadn't been coming here, I should have sent 
 for you last night. The French Ambassador was 
 with me for an hour after dinner." 
 
 "No fresh trouble?" 
 
 " It was a general conversation, but his visit had 
 its purpose a very definite and threatening pur- 
 pose, too. I do not blame France. We are under 
 great obligations to her already. Half her fleet is 
 there to watch over our possessions. She naturally 
 must be sure of her quid pro quo. Everywhere, all 
 over the Continent, the idea seems to be spreading 
 that we are going to be plunged into what really 
 amounts to a civil war. The coming of Maraton 
 has strengthened the people's belief. A country 
 without the sinews of movement, a country in which 
 the working classes laid down their tools, a country 
 whose forges had flickered out and whose railroad 
 tracks were deserted, would simply be the helpless 
 prey of any country who cared to pay off old scores." 
 
 Lord Armley was looking curiously at the ap- 
 proaching couple. 
 
 " Never saw a man," he said, half to himself, " who 
 looked the part so little. Fellow must be well-bred, 
 Foley." 
 
 Mr. Foley nodded. 
 
 " No one knows who his people were. It doesn't 
 really matter, does it? Accident has made him a
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 93 
 
 gentleman accident or fate. Perhaps that is why 
 he has gained such an ascendency over the people. 
 The working classes of the country are most of them 
 sick of their own Labour Members. The practical 
 men can see no further than their noses, and the 
 theorists are too far above their heads. Maraton is 
 the only one who seems to understand. You must 
 have a talk with him, Armley." 
 
 Lady Elisabeth, with a little smile, had turned 
 towards the tennis courts, and Maraton came on 
 alone. Mr. Foley turned to his companion. 
 
 " Armley," he said, " this is Mr. Maraton Lord 
 Armley." 
 
 " It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Maraton," 
 Lord Armley declared, as the two men shook bands, 
 " in such peaceful surroundings. The Press over 
 here has not been too kind to you. Our ideas of 
 your personality are rather based, I am afraid, upon 
 the Punch caricature. You've seen it, perhaps ? " 
 
 Maraton' s eyes lit up with mirth. 
 
 " Excellent ! " he observed. " I have had one 
 framed." 
 
 " He is standing," Lord Armley continued, turn- 
 ing to Mr. Foley, " on the topmost of three tubs, 
 his hair flying in the wind, his mouth open to about 
 twice its normal size, with fire and smoke coming out 
 of it. And below, a multitude! It is a splendid 
 caricature. They tell me, Mr. Maraton, that it is 
 your intention to kindle the fires in England, too." 
 
 Maraton was suddenly grave. 
 
 *' Lord Armley," he said, " all the world speaks of 
 me as an apostle of destruction and death. It is
 
 94 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 because they see a very little distance. In my own 
 thoughts, if ever I do think of myself, it is as a 
 builder, not as a destroyer, that I picture myself. 
 Only in this world, as in any other, one must destroy 
 first to build upon a sound foundation." 
 
 " Good reasoning, sir," Lord Armley replied, 
 " only one should be very sure, before one destroys, 
 that the new order of things will be worthy of the 
 sacrifice." 
 
 " After dinner," Mr. Foley remarked, as he lit a 
 cigarette, " we are going to talk. At present, Mara- 
 ton is under a solemn promise to play tennis." 
 
 Maraton looked towards the house. 
 
 " If I might be allowed," he said, " I will go and 
 put on my flannels. Lady Elisabeth is making up a 
 set, I think." 
 
 He turned towards the house. The two men stood 
 watching him. 
 
 " Is he to be bought ? " Lord Armley asked, in a 
 low tone. 
 
 Mr. Foley shook his head. 
 
 " Not with money or place," he answered thought- 
 fully. 
 
 " There isn't a man breathing who hasn't his price, 
 if you could only discover what it is," Lord Armley 
 declared, as he took a cigarette from his case and 
 lit it. 
 
 " A truism, my friend," Mr. Foley admitted, 
 " which I have always considered a little nebulous. 
 However, we shall see. We have a few hours' respite, 
 at any rate."
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 Lady Grenside's hospitable instincts were un- 
 quenchable. The small house-party to which her 
 brother had reluctantly consented had grown by odd 
 couples until the house was more than half full. 
 Twenty-two people sat down to dinner that night. 
 For the first time in his life, Mr. Foley interfered 
 with the arrangement of the table. He sought his 
 sister out just as the dressing-bell rang. 
 
 " My dear Catharine," he asked, a little reprov- 
 ingly, " was it necessary to have such a crowd here 
 at any rate until after Monday? You know that 
 I don't interfere as a rule, but there were special 
 reasons why I wanted to be as quiet as possible until 
 after Maraton had left." 
 
 Lady Grenside's expression was delightfully apolo- 
 getic. It conveyed, also, a sense of helplessness. 
 
 " What was I to do? " she demanded. " Most of 
 these people were asked, or half asked, weeks ago, 
 and I hate putting any one off. It is quite a weak- 
 ness of mine, that. And I am sure, Stephen, there 
 isn't a soul who could possibly object to Mr. Mara- 
 ton. Personally, I think he is altogether charming, 
 and so distinguished-looking. He has quite the air 
 of being used to good society." 
 
 Mr. Foley 's eyes lit with joyful appreciation of 
 his sister's naivete. Perhaps one reason why they
 
 96 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 got on so well together was because she was con- 
 tinually ministering to his sense of humour. 
 
 " It wasn't altogether that," he said, " but never 
 mind. We can't send the people away now that's 
 certain. What I wanted to tell you was that Elisa- 
 beth must sit next Maraton to-night." 
 
 Lady Grenside was horrified. 
 
 " However could I explain such an arrangement 
 to Jack Carton ! " she protested. " Apart from a 
 matter of precedence, you know that he is Elisa- 
 beth's declared admirer. It is perfectly certain that 
 at a word of encouragement from her, he would 
 propose. A most suitable match, too, in every way, 
 and, you know, Elisabeth is beginning to be just a 
 little anxiety to me. She is twenty-four, and girls 
 marry so young, nowadays." 
 
 " Carton and she can make up for lost time later 
 on," Mr. Foley insisted. " Maraton goes to-mor- 
 row. To-night I am relying upon Elisabeth to look 
 after him. For some reason or other, they seem to 
 get on together excellently." . . . 
 
 Lady Grenside took Lord Carton into one of the 
 corners of her brother's quaint and delightful draw- 
 ing-room, to explain the matter. 
 
 " My dear Jack," she began, " never be a poli- 
 tician." 
 
 " I like that ! " the young man answered. " Lady 
 Elisabeth has been talking to me for half an hour 
 before dinner, trying to get me to interest myself 
 in what she calls serious objects." 
 
 " Oh, it's all right, so far as the man is con- 
 cerned ! " Lady Grenside amended. " I was thinking
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 97 
 
 of my own position. Only an hour ago, my brother 
 comes to me and tells me that I am to send Elisabeth 
 in to dinner to-night with with whom do you 
 think? " 
 
 " With me, I hope," the young man replied 
 promptly, " only I don't know why he should inter- 
 fere." 
 
 " With Mr. Maraton." 
 
 "What, the anarchist fellow?" 
 
 Lady Grenside nodded several times. 
 
 " I can't refuse Stephen in his own house," she 
 said, " and Mr. Maraton is leaving to-morrow." 
 
 The young man sighed. 
 
 " He is just one of those thoughtful chaps with 
 plenty of gas, that Elisabeth likes to talk to," he 
 complained. " Never mind, it's got to be put up 
 with, I suppose." 
 
 " I am sending you in with Lily," Lady Grenside 
 continued. " She'll keep you amused. Only I felt 
 that I must explain." 
 
 " I can't think what the fellow's doing here, any- 
 how," Carton remarked discontentedly. " A few 
 generations ago we should have hung him." 
 
 " Hush ! " Lady Grenside whispered. " Don't let. 
 Elisabeth hear you talk like that. Here she comes. 
 I wonder " 
 
 Lady Grenside stopped short. She was looking- 
 steadily at her daughter and her expression of doubt 
 had a genuine impulse behind it. Carton was not 
 so reticent. 
 
 " By Jove, she dpes look stunning ! " he mur- 
 mured.
 
 9 8 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 Elisabeth, who seldom wore colours, was dressed 
 in blue, with a necklace of turquoises. On the 
 threshold she paused to make some laughing rejoin- 
 der to a man who was holding open the door for her. 
 Her eyes were brilliant, her face was full of ani- 
 mation. Lady Grenside's face darkened as the un- 
 seen man came into sight. It was Maraton. 
 
 " Never saw Elisabeth look so ripping," Carton 
 repeated. " Just my luck, not to take her in." 
 
 " To-morrow night," Lady Grenside promised. 
 
 "That's all very well," Carton grumbled. "I 
 wish she didn't look so thundering pleased with her- 
 self." 
 
 Lady Grenside leaned a little towards him. 
 
 " Elisabeth is a dear girl," she declared. " She 
 is doing all this for her uncle's sake. Mr. Foley is 
 very anxious indeed to conciliate this man, and 
 Elisabeth is helping him. You know how keen she 
 is on doing what she can in that way." 
 
 Carton nodded a little more hopefully. His eyes 
 were fixed now upon Maraton. 
 
 " Can't think how the fellow learnt to turn him- 
 self out like that. I thought these sort of people 
 dressed anyhow." 
 
 Lady Grenside shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 " I believe," she said, " that this man is full of 
 queer contradictions. Some one once told me that 
 he was enormously wealthy; that he had been to an 
 English public school and changed his name out in 
 America. Rubbish, I expect. . . . Run and find 
 Lily, there's a dear boy. We are going in now." 
 
 Dinner was served at a round table, and a good
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 99 
 
 deal of the conversation was general. On Maraton's 
 left hand, however, was a lady whose horror at his 
 presence, concealed out of deference to her host, re- 
 duced her to stolid and unbending silence. Elisa- 
 beth, quickly aware of the fact, made swift atone- 
 ment. While the others talked all around them of 
 general subjects, she conversed with Maraton almost 
 in whispers, lightly enough at first, but with an 
 undernote of seriousness always there. Maraton 
 would have been less than human if he had not been 
 susceptible to the charm of her conversation. 
 
 " I cannot tell you," she declared, towards the end 
 of the meal, " how much I am hoping from this brief 
 visit of yours. I know you feel that our class has 
 little feeling for the people whom you represent. If 
 only I could convince you how wrong that idea is ! 
 Nothing has interested me so much as the different 
 measures which have been brought in for the sake 
 of the people. And my uncle, too he is the kind- 
 est of men and very broad. He would go even 
 further than he does, but for his colleagues." 
 
 " He goes a long way," Maraton reminded her, 
 " when he asks me to his home ; invites me well, 
 why should I not say it? invites me to join his 
 party." 
 
 " He is doing what he believes is sensible," she 
 went on eagerly. " He is doing what I know is 
 right. It is the best, the most splendid idea he has 
 ever had. I think that if nothing comes of it," she 
 added, leaning forward so that her eyes met his, " I 
 think that if nothing comes of it, it will break my 
 heart."
 
 ioo A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 Maraton was a little more serious for a few 
 minutes. She waited in some anxiety for him to 
 speak. When he did so, she realised that there was 
 a new gravity in his face and in his tone. 
 
 " Lady Elisabeth," he said, " I am afraid that 
 there is very little hope of our coming to any agree- 
 ment. You must remember that when I promised 
 to come here " 
 
 " Oh, I know that ! " she interrupted. " Only I 
 wish that we had a little longer time. You think 
 that my interest in the people is an amateurish affair, 
 half sentimental and half freakish, don't you? You 
 were probably surprised to hear that I had ever 
 read a volume of political economy in my life. But 
 I have. I have studied things. I have read dozens 
 and dozens of books on Sociology, and Socialism, 
 and Syndicalism, and every conceivable subject that 
 bears upon the relations between your class and ours, 
 and I can't come to any but one conclusion. There 
 is only one logical conclusion. Violent methods are 
 useless. The betterment of the poor must come 
 about gradually. If religion hadn't interfered, 
 things would have been far better now, even." 
 
 He looked at her, a little startled. 
 
 " It seems strange to hear you say that," he re- 
 marked. 
 
 " Strange only because you will think of me as a 
 dilettante," she replied swiftly. " I have some sort 
 of a brain. I have thought of these matters, talked 
 of them with my uncle, with many others whom even 
 you would admit to be clever men. I, too, see that 
 charity and charitable impulses have perhaps been
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN zor 
 
 the greatest drawback of the day to a scientific bet- 
 terment of the people. I, too, want to see the thing 
 done by laws and not by impulses." 
 
 " You and how many more," he sighed, " and, 
 alas! this is an age of majorities. People talk a 
 good deal. I wonder how many of your hateful 
 middle class would give up a tithe of their luxuries 
 to add to the welfare of the others. There isn't a 
 person breathing with so little real feeling for the 
 slaves of the world, as your middle-class manufac- 
 turer, your tradesman. That is why, in the days to 
 come, he will be the person who is going to suffer 
 most." 
 
 Maraton was appealed to from across the table 
 with reference to some of the art treasures which 
 were reputed to have found their way from Italy 
 to New York. He gave at once the information 
 required, speaking fluently and with the appreciative 
 air of a connoisseur, of many of the pictures which 
 were under discussion. Soon afterwards, Lady 
 Grenside rose and the men drew up their chairs. 
 The evening papers had arrived and there was a 
 general air of seriousness. Mr. Foley sent one to 
 Maraton, who glanced at the opening page upon 
 which his name was displayed in large type: 
 
 FIVE MILLION WORKERS WAIT FOR 
 MARATON! 
 
 WHAT THE STRIKE MAY MEAN. 
 HOME SECRETARY LEAVES FOR MANCHESTER 
 
 TO-MORROW. 
 
 ILLEGAL. STRIKES BILL TO BE PROPOSED 
 ON MONDAY.
 
 102 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 Maraton only glanced at the paper and put it on 
 one side. There was a little constraint. One or two 
 who had not known of his identity were glancing 
 curiously in his direction. Mr. Foley smiled at him 
 pleasantly. 
 
 " You may drink your port without fear, Mr. 
 Maraton," he said. " We live in civilised ages. A 
 thousand years ago, you would certainly have had 
 some cause for suspicion ! " 
 
 Maraton raised his glass to his lips and sipped the 
 wine critically. 
 
 " 1 am afraid," he remarked, with a gleam in his 
 eyes, " that there are a good many of you who may 
 be wishing that they could set back time a thousand 
 years ! " 
 
 Mr. Foley shook his head. 
 
 " No," he decided, " to-day's principles are the 
 best. We argue away what is wrong in the minds 
 of our enemies, and we take unto ourselves what they 
 bring us of good. If you would rather, Mr. Mara- 
 ton, we will not talk politics at all. On the other 
 hand, the news to-night is serious. Armley here is 
 wondering what the actual results will be if Shef- 
 field, Leeds, and Manchester stand together, and the 
 railway strike comes at the same time." 
 
 " I do not know that I wonder at all," Lord Arm- 
 ley declared. " The result will be ruin." - 
 
 " There is no such thing as permanent destruc- 
 tion," Maraton objected. " The springs of human 
 life are never crushed. Sometimes a generation must 
 suffer that succeeding ones may be blest." 
 
 " The question is," Mr. Foley said, holding up his
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 103 
 
 wine-glass, " how far we are justified in experiments 
 concerning which nothing absolute can be known, 
 experiments of so disastrous a nature." 
 
 A servant entered and made a communication to 
 Mr. Foley, who turned at once to Maraton. 
 
 " It is your secretary," he announced, " who has 
 arrived from London with some letters." 
 
 Maraton at once followed the servant from the 
 room. Mr. Foley, too, rose to his feet. 
 
 " In ten minutes or so," he declared, " I shall 
 follow you. We can have our chat quietly in the 
 study." 
 
 Maraton followed the butler across the hall and 
 found himself ushered into a room at the back of 
 the house a room lined with books; with French 
 windows, wide open, leading out on to the lawn; a 
 room beautifully cool and odoriferous with the per- 
 fume of roses. A single lamp was burning upon a 
 table ; for the rest, the apartment seemed full of the 
 soft blue twilight of the summer night. Maraton 
 came to a standstill with an exclamation of surprise. 
 A tall, very slim figure in plain dark clothes had 
 turned from the French windows and was standing 
 there now, her face turned towards him a little 
 eagerly, a strange light upon her pale cheeks and in 
 the eyes which seemed to shine at him almost fever- 
 ishly out of the sensuous twilight.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 " Julia ! " Maraton exclaimed. 
 
 " Aaron was run over just as he was starting," 
 she explained quickly. " He is not hurt badly, but 
 he wasn't able to catch the train. He had an im- 
 portant letter from Manchester and one from the 
 committee for you. We thought it best that I 
 should bring them. I hope we decided rightly." 
 
 She was standing out of the circle of the lamp- 
 light, in the shadows of the room. There was a 
 queer nervousness about her manner, a strained 
 anxiety in the way her eyes scarcely left his face, 
 which puzzled him. 
 
 " It is very kind of you," he said, as he took the let- 
 ters. " Please sit down while I look at them." 
 
 The first was dated from the House of Commons : 
 
 *' Dear Mr. Maraton: 
 
 " At a committee meeting held this afternoon here, 
 it was resolved that I should write to you to the fol- 
 lowing effect. 
 
 " We understood that you were coming over here 
 entirely in the interests of the great cause of labour, 
 of which we, the undersigned, are the accredited rep- 
 resentatives in this country. Since your arrival, 
 however, you have preserved an independent attitude 
 which has given cause to much anxiety on our part. 
 After declining to attend a meeting at the Clarion 
 Hall, we find you there amongst the audience, and
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 105 
 
 you address them In direct opposition to the advice 
 which we were' giving them authoritatively. We 
 specially invited you to be present at a meeting of 
 this committee to-day, in order that a definite plan 
 of campaign might be formulated before your visit 
 to Manchester. You have not accepted our invi- 
 tation, and we understand that you are now staying 
 at the private house of the Prime Minister, notwith- 
 standing our request that you should not interview, 
 or be interviewed by any representative of the Gov- 
 ernment without one of our committee being present. 
 
 " We wish to express our dissatisfaction with the 
 state of affairs, and to say that should you be still 
 intending to address the meeting at Manchester on 
 Monday night, we demand an explanation with you 
 before you go on to the platform. We understand 
 that the residence of Mr. Foley is only sixty miles 
 from London. If you are still desirous of acting 
 with us, we beg you, upon receipt of this letter, to 
 ask for a motor car and to return here to London. 
 We shall all be at number 17, Netting Hill, until 
 midnight or later, telephone number 178, so that you 
 can telephone that you are on the way. Failing your 
 coming, some of us will be at the Midland Hotel, 
 Manchester, from mid-day on Monday. 
 " I am, 
 
 " Faithfully yours, 
 " For " RICHARD GRAVELING, 
 
 PETER DALE, Chairman, " Secretary." 
 
 ABRAHAM WEAVEL, 
 
 SAMUEL BORDEX, 
 
 HENRY CULVAIN.
 
 io6 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 The second one was from Manchester: 
 
 " Dear Sir: 
 
 " We understand that you will be arriving in Man- 
 chester about mid-day on Monday. We think it 
 would be best if you were to descend from the train 
 either at Derby or any adjacent station, as no police 
 force which could possibly be raised in the county, 
 will be sufficient to control the crowds of people who 
 will gather in the streets to welcome you. 
 
 " We beg that you will send us a telegram, inform- 
 ing us by what train you are travelling, and we will 
 send a messenger to Derby, who will confer with you 
 as to the best means of reaching the rooms which 
 we are providing for you. 
 " Anticipating your visit, 
 
 " I am, 
 " Faithfully yours, 
 
 " WIIXIAM PRESTOS, 
 " Secretary Manchester Labour Party." 
 
 Maraton replaced the letters in their envelopes 
 and turned with them in his hand, towards Julia. 
 She had moved a little towards the open French win- 
 dows. Every one seemed to have made their way 
 out on to the lawn. Chinese lanterns were hanging 
 from some of the trees and along the straight box 
 hedge that led to the rose gardens. The women were 
 strolling about in their evening gowns, without wraps 
 or covering, and the men had joined them. Servants 
 were passing coffee around, served from a table on 
 which stood a little row of bottles, filled with various
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 107 
 
 liqueurs. Some one in the drawing-room was sing- 
 ing, but the voice was suddenly silenced. Every one 
 turned their heads. A little further back in the 
 woods, a nightingale had commenced to sing. 
 
 " You are tired," Maraton whispered. 
 
 She shook her head. The strained, anxious look 
 was still in her face. 
 
 " No," she replied in a low tone, " I am not tired." 
 
 " There is something the matter," he insisted, 
 " something, I am sure. Won't you sit down, and 
 may I not order some refreshment for you? The 
 people here are very hospitable." 
 
 Her gesture of dissent was almost peremptory. 
 
 "No!" 
 
 The monosyllable had a sting which surprised him. 
 
 " Tell me what it is ? " he begged. 
 
 She opened her lips and closed them again. He 
 saw then the rising and falling of her bosom under- 
 neath that black stuff gown. She stretched out her 
 hand towards the gardens. Somehow or other, she 
 seemed to grow taller. 
 
 " I do not understand this," she said. " I dft 
 not understand your being here, one of them, dressed 
 like them, speaking their language, sharing their 
 luxuries. It is a great blow to me. It is perhaps 
 because I am foolish, but it tortures me ! " 
 
 " But isn't that a little unreasonable? " he asked 
 her quietly. " To accomplish anything in this 
 world, it is necessary to know more than one side of 
 life." 
 
 " But this this," she cried hysterically, " is the 
 side which has made our blood boil for generations!
 
 io8 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 These women in silk and laces, these idle, pleasure- 
 loving men, this eating and drinking, this luxury in 
 beautiful surroundings, with ears deafened to all the 
 mad, sobbing cries of the world! This is their life 
 day by day. You have been in the wilderness, you 
 have seen the life of those others, you have the feel- 
 ing for them in your heart. Can you sit at table 
 with these people and wear their clothes, and not 
 feel like a hypocrite ? " 
 
 " I assure you," Maraton replied, " that I can." 
 
 She was trembling slightly. She had never seemed 
 to him so tall. Her eyes now were ablaze. She had 
 indeed the air of a prophetess. 
 
 " They are ignorant men, they who sent you that 
 letter," she continued, pointing to it, " but they have 
 the truth. Do you know what they are saying? " 
 
 Maraton inclined his head gravely. He felt that 
 he knew very well what they were saying. She did 
 not give him time, however, to interrupt. 
 
 " They are saying that you are to be bought, 
 that that is why you are here, that Mr. Foley will 
 pay a great price for you. They are saying that 
 all those hopes we had built upon your coming, are 
 to be dashed away. They say that you are for the 
 flesh-pots. I daren't breathe a word of this to 
 Aaron," she added hurriedly, ** or I think that he 
 would go mad. He is blind with passionate love for 
 you. He does not see the danger, he will not believe 
 that you are not as a god." 
 
 Maraton looked past her into the gardens, away 
 into the violet sky. The nightingale was singing 
 now clearly and wonderfully. Perhaps, for a mo-
 
 
 .She did not give him time to Interrupt. Page 108.
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 109 
 
 ment, his thoughts strayed from the great battle of 
 life. Perhaps his innate sense and worship of 
 beauty, the artist in the man, which was the real 
 thing making him great in his daily work, triumphed 
 apart from any other consideration. The music of 
 life was in his veins. Soft and stately, Elisabeth, 
 standing a little apart, was looking in upon them, 
 an exquisite figure with a background of dark green 
 trees. 
 
 " When you faced death in Chicago," Julia went 
 on, her voice quivering with the effort she was mak- 
 ing to keep it low, " when you offered your body to 
 the law and preached fire and murder with your lips, 
 you did it for the sake of the people. There was 
 nothing in life so glorious to you, then, as the one 
 great cause. That was the man we hoped to see. 
 Are you that man ? " 
 
 Maraton's thoughts came back. He moved a 
 little towards her. Her hand shot out as though 
 to keep him at a distance. 
 
 " Are you that man? " she repeated. 
 
 Her thin form was shaken with stifled sobs. 
 
 " I hope so," he answered gravely. " My ways 
 are not the ways to which you have been accustomed. 
 In my heart I believe that I see further into the real 
 truth than some of those very ignorant friends of 
 yours who have been sent into Parliament by the 
 operatives they represent; further even than you, 
 Julia, handicapped by your sex, with your eyes 
 fixed, day by day, only upon the misery of life. 
 You blame me because I am here amongst these peo- 
 ple as an equal. Listen. Is one responsible for
 
 no A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 their birth and instincts? I tell you now what 1 
 have told to no one, for no one has ever ventured 
 to ask me twice of my parentage. I was born, in 
 a sense, as these people were born. I cannot help 
 it if, finding it advisable to come amongst them, I 
 find their ways easy. That is all. I came here to 
 keep a promise to a man who is, in his way, a great 
 statesman. He is Prime Minister of our country. 
 He has, without a doubt, so far as it is possible for 
 such a man to have it there at all, the cause of the 
 people at his heart. Is it for me to ignore him, to 
 leave what he would say to me unsaid, to pull down 
 the pillars which have kept this a proud country for 
 many hundreds of years, without even listening? 
 Remember that if I speak at Manchester the things 
 that are in my heart, this country, for your time 
 and mine, must perish. Of that I am sure. That 
 has been made clear to me. Do you wonder, Julia, 
 that, before I take that last step, I lift every stone, 
 I turn over every page, I listen to every word which 
 may be spoken by those who have the right to 
 speak ? That is why I am here. On Monday morn- 
 ing I leave. On Monday night I speak to the people 
 in Manchester." 
 
 She listened to him very much as a prisoner at 
 the bar might listen to a judge who reasons before 
 he pronounces sentence, and her face became as the 
 face of that prisoner might become, who detects 
 some leniency of tone, some softening of manner, 
 on the part of the arbiter of his fate. She ceased 
 to tremble, her lips relaxed, her eyes grew softer and 
 softer. She came a step nearer, resting her finger-
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN in 
 
 tips upon a little table, her body leaning towards 
 him. He had a queer vision of her for a moment 
 no longer the prophetess, a touch of the Delilah in 
 the soft sweetness of her eyes. 
 
 " Oh, forgive me ! " she begged. " I was foolish. 
 Forgive me ! " 
 
 He smiled at her reassuringly. 
 
 " There is nothing to forgive," he insisted. " You 
 asked for an explanation to which you had a right. 
 I have tried to give it to you. Indeed, Julia, you 
 need have no fear. Whatever I decide in life will 
 be what I think best for our cause." 
 
 The shadow of fear once more trembled in her 
 tone. 
 
 " Whatever you decide," she repeated. " You will 
 not you will not let them call you a deserter? You 
 couldn't do that." 
 
 " There isn't anything in the world," he told her 
 quietly, " which has the power to tempt me from 
 doing the thing which I think best. I cannot promise 
 that it will be always the thing which seems right to 
 this committee of men," he added, touching the enve- 
 lope with his forefinger. " I cannot promise you 
 that, but it should not worry you. You yourself are 
 different. It is my hope that soon you will under- 
 stand me better. I think that when that time comes 
 you will cease to fear." 
 
 The light in her face was wonderful. 
 
 " Oh, I want to ! " she murmured. " I want to 
 understand you better. There hasn't been anything 
 in life to me like the sound of your name, like the 
 thought of you, since first I understood. Perhaps
 
 ii2 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 I am as bad as Aaron," she sighed. " I, too, alas ! 
 am your hopeless slave." 
 
 He moved a step nearer. This time she made no 
 effort to retreat. Once more she was trembling a 
 little, but her face was soft and sweet. All the 
 pallor, the hard lines, the suffering seemed to have 
 passed miraculously out of it. A soul a woman's 
 soul was shining at him out of her eyes. It 
 wasn't her physical self that spoke in a way he 
 knew that. Yet she was calling to him, calling to 
 him with all she possessed, calling to him as to her 
 master. 
 
 He succeeded in persuading her to eat and drink, 
 and she departed, a little grim and unpleased, in 
 the motor car which Mr. Foley had insisted upon 
 ordering round. Then Maraton strolled into the 
 garden to take his delayed coffee. Elisabeth came 
 noiselessly across the turf to his side. 
 
 " I hope there was nothing disturbing in your let- 
 ters ? " she said. 
 
 " Not very," he replied. " It is only what I ex- 
 pected." 
 
 " Every one," she continued, " has been admiring 
 your secretary. We all thought that she had such 
 a beautiful face." 
 
 " She is not my secretary," he explained. " She 
 came in place of her brother, who met with a slight 
 accident just as he was starting." 
 
 Somehow or other, he fancied that Elisabeth was 
 pleased. 
 
 " I didn't think that it was like you to have a 
 woman secretary," she remarked.
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 113 
 
 He smiled as he replied : 
 
 " Miss Thurnbrein is a very earnest worker and 
 a real humanitarian. She has written articles about 
 woman labour in London." 
 
 " Julia Thurnbrein ! " Elisabeth exclaimed. " Yes, 
 I have read them. If only I had known that that 
 was she ! I should have liked so much to have talked 
 to her. Do you think that she would come and see 
 me, or let me come and see her? We really do want 
 to understand these things, and it seems to rne, 
 somehow, that people like Julia Thurnbrein, and all 
 those who really understand, keep away from us 
 wilfully. They won't exchange thoughts. They 
 believe that we are their natural enemies. And we 
 aren't, you know. There isn't any one I'd like to 
 meet and talk with so much as Julia Thurn- 
 brein." 
 
 He nodded sympathetically. 
 
 "They are prejudiced," he admitted. "All of 
 them are disgusted with me for being down here. 
 They look with grave suspicion upon my ability to 
 wear a dress suit. It is just that narrowness which 
 has set back the clock a hundred years. . . . How 
 I like your idea of an open-air drawing-room! Mr. 
 Foley hasn't been looking for me, has he? I am 
 due in his study in three minutes." 
 
 Her finger touched his arm. 
 
 " Come with me for one moment," she insisted, a 
 little abruptly. 
 
 She led him down one of the walks a narrow 
 turf path, leading through great clumps of rhodo- 
 dendrons. At the bottom was the wood where the
 
 ii 4 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 nightingale had his home. After a few paces she 
 stopped. 
 
 " Mr. Maraton," she said, " this may be our last 
 serious word together, for when you have talked with 
 my uncle you will have made your decision. Look 
 at me, please." 
 
 He looked at her. Just then the nightingale be- 
 gan to sing again, and curiously enough it seemed to 
 him that a different note had crept into the bird's 
 song. It was a cry for life, an absolutely pagan 
 note, which came to him through the velvety 
 darkness. 
 
 " Isn't it your theory," she whispered, " to de- 
 stroy for the sake of the future? Don't do it. 
 Theory sometimes sounds so sublime, but the present 
 is actually here. Be content to work piecemeal, to 
 creep upwards inch by inch. Life is something, you 
 know. Life is something for all of us. No man has 
 the right to destroy it for others. He has not even 
 the right to destroy it for himself." 
 
 Maraton was suddenly almost giddy. For a mo- 
 ment he had relaxed and that moment was illuminat- 
 ing. Perhaps she saw the fire which leapt into his 
 eyes. If she did, she never quailed. Her head was 
 within a few inches of his, his arms almost touching 
 her. She saw but she never moved. If anything, 
 she drew a little nearer. 
 
 " Speak to me," she begged. " Give "me some 
 promise, some hope." 
 
 He was absolutely speechless. A wave of reminis- 
 cence had carried him back into the study, face to 
 face with an accuser. He read meaning in Julia's
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 115 
 
 words now, a meaning which at the time they had not 
 possessed. It was true that he was being tempted. 
 It was true that there was such a thing in the world 
 as temptation, a live thing to the strong as well as 
 to the weak. 
 
 " You could be great," she murmured. " You 
 could be a statesman of whom we should all be proud. 
 In years to come, people would understand, they 
 would know that you had chosen the nobler part. 
 And then for yourself " 
 
 " For myself," he interrupted, " for myself 
 what?" 
 
 Her lips parted and closed again. She looked at 
 him very steadily. 
 
 " Don't you think," she asked quietly, " that you 
 are, more than most men, the builder of your own 
 life, the master of your own fate, the conqueror 
 if, indeed, you desired to possess ? " 
 
 She was gone, disappearing through a winding 
 path amongst the bushes which he had never noticed. 
 He heard the trailing of her skirts; the air around 
 him was empty save for a breath of the perfume 
 shaken from her gown, and the song of the bird. 
 Then he heard her call to him. 
 
 "This way, Mr. Maraton just a little to your 
 left. The path leads right out on to the lawn." 
 
 " Is it a maze? " he asked. 
 
 " A very ordinary one," she called back gaily. 
 " Follow me and I will lead you out."
 
 Mr. Foley and Lord Armley were waiting together 
 in the library not the smaller apartment into 
 which Julia had been shown, but a more spacious, 
 almost a stately room in the front part of the house. 
 Upon Maraton's entrance, Lord Armley changed his 
 position, sitting further back amongst the shadows 
 in a low easy-chair. Maraton took his place so that 
 he was between the two men. It was Lord Armley 
 who asked the first question. 
 
 " Mr. Maraton," he enquired, " are you an 
 Englishman? " 
 
 " I think that I may call myself so," Maraton re- 
 plied, with a smile. " I was born in America, but 
 my parents were English." 
 
 " I asked," Lord Armley continued, " whether you 
 were an Englishman, for two reasons. One was 
 well, perhaps you might call it curiosity; the other 
 because, if you are an Englishman, Mr. Foley and I 
 are going to make a strong and I hope successful 
 appeal to your patriotism." 
 
 " I am afraid," Maraton replied, " that you will 
 be appealing to a sentiment of which I am ignorant." 
 
 " Do you mean," Mr. Foley asked, " that you have 
 no impulse of affection for your own country? " 
 
 " For my country as she exists at present, none 
 at all," Maraton answered. " That is where I am
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 117 
 
 afraid we shall find this conference so unsatisfactory. 
 I am not subject to any of the ordinary convictions 
 of life." 
 
 " That certainly makes the task of arguing with 
 you a little difficult," Mr. Foley admitted. " We had 
 hoped that the vision of this country overrun by a 
 triumphant enemy, our towns and our pleasant places 
 in the hands of an alien race, our women subject to 
 insults from them, our men treated with scorn we 
 had an idea that the vision of these things might 
 count with you for something." 
 
 " For nothing at all," Maraton replied. " I am 
 not sure that a successful invasion of this country 
 would not be one of the best medicines she could 
 possibly have." 
 
 " Are you serious, sir ? " Lord Armley asked 
 grimly. 
 
 " Absolutely," Maraton answered, without a sec- 
 ond's hesitation. " You people have, after all, only 
 an external feeling for the deficiences of your social 
 system. You don't feel, really you don't under- 
 stand. To me, England at the present day the 
 whole of civilisation, indeed, but we are speaking now 
 only of England is suffering from an awful dis- 
 ease. To me she is like a leper. I cannot think 
 that any operation which could cure her is too 
 severe. She may have to spend centuries in the 
 hospital, but some day the light will come." 
 
 " When you talk like that," Mr. Foley declared, 
 " you seem to us, Mr. Maraton, to pass outside the 
 pale of logical argument. But we want to under- 
 stand you. You mean that for the sake of altering
 
 n8 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 our social conditions, you would, if you thought it 
 necessary, let this country be conquered, plunge her 
 for a hundred years or more into misery deeper than 
 any she has yet known? What good do you suppose 
 could come of this? The poor who are poor now 
 would starve then. From whom would come the 
 mammoth war indemnity we should have to 
 pay? " 
 
 " Not from the poor," Maraton replied. " That is 
 one of my theories. It would come from the very 
 class whom I would willingly see enfeebled the 
 greedy, grasping, middle class. The poor must exist 
 automatically. They could not exist on lower wages ; 
 therefore, they will not get lower wages. If there 
 is no employment for them, they will help themselves to 
 the means for life. If there is money in the country, 
 they have a right to a part of it and they will take 
 it. The unfit amongst them will die. The unfit are 
 better dead." 
 
 " This is a dangerous doctrine, Mr. Maraton," 
 Lord Armley remarked. 
 
 " It is a primitive law," Maraton answered. " Put 
 yourself down amongst the people, with a wife by 
 your side and children crying to you for bread. 
 Would you call yourself a man if you let them starve, 
 if you sent your children sobbing away from you 
 when there was bread to be had for the fighting, bread 
 to be taken from those who had also meat? I think 
 not. I am not afraid of plunging the country into 
 disaster. It is my belief that the sufferings and the 
 loss which would ensue would not fall upon the class 
 who are already dwelling in misery."
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 119 
 
 Mr. Foley moved nervously to the mantelpiece and 
 helped himself to a cigarette. 
 
 " Mr. Maraton," he said, " we will not argue on 
 these lines. I like to feel my feet upon the earth. 
 I like to deal with the things one knows about. 
 Grant me this, at least; that it is possible to reach 
 the end at which you are striving, by milder means? " 
 
 " It may be," Maraton admitted. " I am not sure. 
 Milder means have been tried for a good many genera- 
 tions. I tell you frankly that I do not believe it is 
 possible by legislation to redistribute the wealth of 
 the world." 
 
 Lord Armley, from his seat amongst the shadows, 
 smiled sarcastically. 
 
 " You, too, Mr. Maraton," he murmured. " What 
 is your answer, I wonder, to the oft quoted question ? 
 You may redistribute wealth, but how do you pro- 
 pose to keep it in a state of equilibrium ? " 
 
 Maraton smiled. 
 
 " There would have to be three, perhaps half-a- 
 dozen who can tell how many? redistributions 
 by violent means," he replied, " but remember that all 
 this time, education, clean living, freedom from sor- 
 did anxieties, would be telling upon the lower orders. 
 As their physical condition improved, so would their 
 minds. As the conditions under which men live be- 
 come more equal, so will their brains become more equal 
 and their power of acquiring wealth. This, remem- 
 ber, may be the work of a hundred years perhaps 
 more but it is the end at which we should aim." 
 
 " You absolutely mean, then," Mr. Foley persisted, 
 " to destroy the welfare of the country for this genera-
 
 120 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 tion and perhaps the next, in order that a new 
 people may arise, governed according to your methods, 
 in ages which neither you nor I nor any of us will 
 ever see? " 
 
 " That is what I mean," Maraton assented. 
 " Need I remind you that if we had not possessed in 
 the past men who gave their lives for the sake of 
 posterity, the nations of the world would be even 
 in a more backward condition than they are to-day ? " 
 
 Mr. Foley smiled. 
 
 " Mr. Maraton," he said, " now I am going to 
 ask you this question. To-morrow you go to Man- 
 chester to pronounce your doctrines. To-morrow 
 you are going to incite the working people of Eng- 
 land practicaUy to revolt. Are you going to tell 
 them that it is for posterity they must strike? Do 
 you mean, when you thunder at them from the plat- 
 forms, to tell them the truth ? to tell them that the 
 good which you promise is not for them nor for 
 their children, nor their children's children, but for 
 the unborn generations? Do you mean to tell them 
 this?" 
 
 Maraton was silent. Lord Armley was watching 
 him closely. Mr. Foley's eyes were bright, and a 
 little flush had stained the parchment pallor of his 
 cheeks. He was feeling all the thrill of the fencer 
 who has touched. 
 
 " I cannot convince you, Mr. Maraton," he went 
 on, " that yours is not a splendid dream, an idyllic 
 vision, which would fade from the canvas before even 
 the colours were dry, but you have common sense, and 
 I hope at least I can persuade you to see this. You
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 121 
 
 won't rally the working men of England to your 
 standard under that motto. That's why their leaders 
 are ignorant and commonplace men. They know very 
 well that it's to the pockets of their hearers they 
 must appeal. A shilling a week more now is what 
 they want, not to have their children born to a better 
 life, and their children's children move on the up- 
 ward plane. Human nature isn't like that, especially 
 the human nature which I admit has suffered from 
 the selfishness and greediness of the middle classes 
 through all these years. The people aren't ready 
 to dream dreams. They want money in their pockets, 
 cash, so much a week nothing else. I tell you 
 that self-interest is before the eyes of every one of 
 those Lancashire operatives to whom you are going 
 to speak. An hour or so less work a week, an ounce 
 more of tobacco, a glass of beer when he feels in- 
 clined, a little more money in the bank that's what 
 he wants." 
 
 " You may be speaking the truth, Mr. Foley," 
 Maraton confessed quietly. " At any rate, you have 
 voiced some of my deepest fears. I know that I 
 cannot bring the people to my standard by showing 
 them the whole of my mind. But why should I? 
 If I know that my cause is just, if I know that it is 
 for the good of the world, isn't it my duty to con- 
 ceal as much as I find it wise to conceal, to keep my 
 hand to the plough, even though I drive it through 
 the fields of devastation? " 
 
 " Then your mission is not an honest one," Lord 
 Armley declared suddenly. " It is dishonest that 
 good things may come of it."
 
 122 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 " It is possible to reason like that," Maraton ad- 
 mitted. 
 
 " Now, listen," Mr. Foley continued. " I will show 
 you the other way. I will look with you into the 
 future. I cannot agree with all your views but I, 
 too, would like to see the diminution of capital from 
 the hands of the manufacturers and the middle 
 classes, and an increase of prosperity to the opera- 
 tives. I would like to see the gulf between them; 
 narrowed year by year. I would like to see the 
 working man everywhere established in quarters 
 where life is wholesome and pleasant. I would like 
 to see his schools better, even, than they are at present. 
 I would like to see him, in the years to come, a 
 stronger, a more capable, a more dignified unit of the 
 Empire. He can only be made so by prosperity. 
 Therefore, I wish for him prosperity. You want to 
 sow the country red with ruin and fire, and there isn't 
 any man breathing, not even you, can tell exactly what 
 the outcome of it all might be. I want to work 
 at the same thing more gently. Last year for the 
 first time, I passed a Bill in Parliament which in- 
 terfered between the relations of master and man. 
 In a certain trade dispute I compelled the employers, 
 by Act of Parliament, to agree to a vital principle 
 upon which the men insisted. The night I drove 
 home from the House I said to Lady Elisabeth, my 
 niece, that that measure, small though it was, marked 
 a new era in the social conditions of the country. 
 It did. What I have commenced, I am pre- 
 pared to go on with. I am prepared by every 
 logical and honest means to legislate for la-
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 123 
 
 hour. I am prepared to legislate in such a 
 way that the prosperity of the manufacturer, all the 
 manufacturers in this country, must be shared 
 by the workpeople. I am prepared to fight, tooth 
 and nail, against twenty per cent dividends on capi- 
 tal and twenty-five shillings a week wages for the 
 operative. There are others in the Cabinet of my 
 point of view. In a couple of years we must go 
 to the country. I am going to the country to ask 
 for a people's government. Go to Manchester, if 
 you must, but talk common sense to the people. 
 Let them strike where they are subject to wrongs, 
 and I promise you that I am on their side, and every 
 pressure that my Government can bring to bear 
 upon the employers, shall be used in their favour. 
 You shall win you as the champion of the men, 
 shall win all along the line. You shall improve the 
 conditions of every one of those industries in the 
 north. But it must be done legitimately and with- 
 out sinister complications. I know what is in your 
 mind, Mr. Maraton, quite well. I know your pro- 
 posal. It is in your mind to have the railway strike, 
 the coal strike, the ironfounders' strike, and the 
 strike of the Lancashire operatives, all take place 
 on the same day. You intend to lay the country 
 pulseless and motionless. You won't accept terms. 
 You court disaster disaster which you refer 
 to as an operation. Don't do it. Try my way. 
 I offer you certain success. I offer you my alli- 
 ance, a seat in Parliament at once, a place in my 
 Government in two years' time. What more 
 can you ask for? What more can you do for
 
 I2 4 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 the people than fight for them side by side with 
 me?" 
 
 Maraton had moved a little nearer to the window. 
 He was looking out into the night. Very faintly 
 now in the distant woods he could still catch the 
 song of the nightingale. Almost he fancied in the 
 shadows that he could catch sight of Julia's strained 
 face leaning towards him, the face of the prophetess, 
 warning him against the easy ways, calling to him 
 to remember. His principles had been to him a part 
 of his life. What if he should be wrong? What if 
 he should bring misery and suffering upon millions 
 upon millions, for the sake of a generation which 
 might never be born? There was something prac- 
 tical about Mr. Foley's offer, an offer which could 
 have been made only by a great man. His brain 
 moved swiftly. As he stood there, he seemed to 
 look out upon a vast plain of misery, a country of 
 silent furnaces, of smokeless chimneys, a country 
 drooping and lifeless, dotted with the figures of 
 dying men and women. What an offering! What 
 a sacrifice? Would the people still believe in him 
 when the blow fell ? Could he himself pass out of life 
 with the memory of it all in his mind, and feel that 
 his life's work had been good? He remained speech- 
 less. 
 
 " Let me force one more argument upon you," 
 Mr. Foley continued. " You must know a little what 
 type of mind is most common amongst Labour. I 
 ask you what will be the attitude of Labour towards 
 the starvation of the next ten or twenty years, if 
 you should bring the ruin you threaten upon the
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 125 
 
 country? I ask you to use your common sense. Of 
 what use would you be? Who would listen to you? 
 If they left you alive, would any audience of starv- 
 ing men and women, looking back upon the com- 
 parative prosperity of the past, listen to a word 
 from your lips. Believe me, they would not. They 
 would be more likely, if they found you, to rend 
 you limb from limb. The operatives of this country 
 are not dreamers. They don't want to give their 
 wives and children, and their own selves, body and 
 soul, for a dream. Therefore, I come back to the 
 sane common sense of the whole affair. By this 
 time next year, if you use your power to bring de- 
 struction upon this country, your name will be loathed 
 and detested amongst the very people for whose sake 
 you do it." 
 
 Maraton turned away. 
 
 " You have put some of my own fears before me, 
 Mr. Foley," he confessed, " in a new and very im- 
 pressive light. If I thought that I myself were the 
 only one who could teach, you would indeed terrify 
 me. The doctrines in which I believe, however, will 
 endure, even though I should pass." 
 
 " Endure to be discarded and despised by all think- 
 ing men ! " Lord Armley exclaimed. 
 
 " You may be right," Maraton admitted, slowly. 
 " I cannot say. Will you forgive me if I make you 
 no answer at all to-night? My thoughts are a little 
 confused. You have made me see myself with your 
 eyes, and I wish to reconsider certain matters. Be- 
 fore I go, perhaps you will give me ten minutes more 
 to discuss them? "
 
 i 2 6 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 Mr. Foley was still a little flushed as they shook 
 hands. 
 
 " I am glad," he declared, " very glad that you 
 are at least going to think over what I have said. 
 You must have common sense. I have read your 
 book, backwards and forwards. I have read your 
 articles in the American reviews and in the English 
 papers. There is nothing more splendid than the 
 visions you write of, but there is no gangway across 
 from this world into the world of dreams, Mr. Mara- 
 ton. Remember that, and remember, too, how great 
 your responsibility is. I have never tried to hide 
 from you what I believe your real power to be. I 
 have always said that the moment a real leader was 
 found, the country would be in danger. You are 
 that leader. For God's sake, Mr. Maraton, realise 
 your responsibility ! . . . Now shall we go back into 
 the gardens or into the drawing-room? My niece 
 will sing to us, if you are fond of music." 
 
 Maraton excused himself and slipped out into the 
 gardens alone. For more than an hour he walked 
 restlessly about, without relief, without gaining any 
 added clearness of vision. The atmosphere of the 
 place seemed to him somehow enervating. The little 
 walk amongst the rhododendrons was still fragrant 
 with perfume, reminiscent of that strange moment 
 of emotion. The air was still languorous. Although 
 the nightingale's song had ceased, the atmosphere 
 seemed still vibrating with the music of his past 
 song. He stood before the window of the room 
 where he had talked with Julia. What would she 
 say, he wondered? Would she think that he had
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 127 
 
 sold his soul if he chose the more peaceful way? It 
 was a night of perplexed thoughts, confused emo- 
 tions. One thing only was clear. For the first time 
 in his life certain dreams, which had been as dear 
 to him as life itself, had received a shattering blow. 
 Always he had spoken and acted from conviction. 
 It was that which had given his words their splendid 
 force. It was that which had made the words which 
 he had spoken live as though they had been winged 
 with fire. Perhaps it was his own fault. Perhaps 
 he should have avoided altogether this house of the 
 easier ways.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 From the atmosphere of Lyndwood Park and its 
 surroundings fragrant, almost epicurean Mara- 
 ton passed to the hard squalor of the great smoke- 
 hung city of the north. There were no beautiful 
 women or cultured men to bid him welcome. The 
 Labour Member and his companion, who hastened 
 him out of the train at Derby and into an open 
 motor-car, were hard-featured Lancashire men, keen 
 on their work and practical as the day. As they 
 talked together in that long, ugly ride, Maraton al- 
 most smiled as he thought of those perfervid dreams 
 of his which had always been at the back of his head ; 
 that creed of life, some part of which he had in- 
 tended to unfold to the people during these few days. 
 
 " Plain-speaking is what our folk like," John Hen- 
 neford assured him, as they sat side by side in the 
 small open car driven by one of the committee; 
 " plain, honest words ; sound advice, with a bit o* 
 grit in it." 
 
 " * To hell with the masters ! ' is the motto they 
 like best," Preston remarked, moving his pipe to 
 the corner of his mouth. " It's an old text but it's 
 an ever popular one. There's the mill where I work, 
 now, fourteen hundred of us. The girls average 
 from eighteen bob to a pound a week, men twenty- 
 four to twenty-eight, foremen thirty-five to two
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 129 
 
 pounds. It's not much of wages. The house rent's 
 high in these parts, and food, too. The business lias 
 just been turned into a company capital three hun- 
 dred thousand pounds, profits last year forty-two 
 thousand. That's after paying us our bit. That's 
 the sort of thing turns the blood of the people sour 
 up here. It was the aristocrats brought about the 
 revolution in France. It will be the manufacturers 
 who do it here, and do it quick unless things are 
 altered. They tell me you're a bit of a revolution- 
 ist, Mr. Maraton." 
 
 " I'm anything," Maraton answered, " that will 
 do away with such profits as you've been speaking 
 of. I am anything which will bring a fair share of 
 the profits of his labour to the operative who now gets 
 none. I hate capital. It's a false quantity, a false 
 value. It's got to come back to the people. It be- 
 longs to them." 
 
 " You're right, man," Henneford declared grimly. 
 "How are you going to get it back, eh? Show us. 
 We are powerful up here. We could paralyse trade 
 from the Clyde to the Thames, if we thought it would 
 do any good. What's your text to-night, Mr. Mara- 
 ton?" 
 
 " I haven't thought," Maraton replied. " I have 
 plenty to say to the people though." 
 
 " You gave 'em what for in Chicago," Preston 
 remarked, with a grin. 
 
 " I haven't been used to mince words," Maraton 
 admitted. 
 
 " There's four thousand policemen told off to look 
 after you," Henneford informed him. " By-the-bye,
 
 130 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 is it true that Dale and all of them are coming up; 
 to-night? " 
 
 Maraton nodded. 
 
 " I wired for some of them," he assented. " So 
 long as I am going to make a definite pronouncement, 
 they may as well hear it." 
 
 " Been spending the week-end with Foley, haven't 
 you? " Preston enquired, closing his eyes a little. 
 
 Maraton nodded. 
 
 " Yes," he confessed, " I have been there." 
 
 " There are many that don't think much of Foley," 
 Henneford remarked. " Myself I am not sure what 
 to make of him. I think he'd be a people's man, right 
 enough, if it wasn't for the Cabinet." 
 
 " I believe, in my heart," Maraton said, " that he 
 is a people's man." 
 
 They sped on through deserted spaces, past smoke- 
 stained factories, across cobbled streets, past a wilder- 
 ness of small houses, grimy, everywhere repellent. 
 Soon they entered Manchester by the back way and 
 pulled up presently at a small and unimposing 
 hotel. 
 
 " We've taken a room for you here," Henneford 
 announced. " It's close to the hall, and it's quiet 
 and clean enough. The big hotels I doubt whether 
 you'd ever be able to get out of, when once they 
 found where you were." 
 
 " As a matter of fact," Preston added, " there's 
 a room taken in your name at the Midland, to put 
 folks off a bit. We'll have to smuggle you out here 
 if there's any trouble to-night. The people are rare 
 and restless."
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 131 
 
 " It will do very nicely, I am sure," Maraton re- 
 plied. 
 
 The place was an ordinary commercial hotel, clean 
 apparently but otherwise wholly unattractive. 
 Henneford led the way up-stairs and with some pride 
 threw open the door of a room on the first floor. 
 
 " We've got you a sitting-room," he said. 
 " Thought you might want to talk to these Press 
 people, perhaps, or do a bit of work. Your secre- 
 tary's somewhere about the place turned up with 
 a typewriter early this morning. And there's a 
 young woman " 
 
 "A what?" Maraton asked. 
 
 " A young woman," Henneford continued, " sec- 
 retary's sister or something." 
 
 Maraton smiled. 
 
 "Miss Thurnbrein." 
 
 "What, the tailoress? " Preston replied. "She's 
 a good sort. Wrote rare stuff, she did, about her 
 trade. They are out together, seeing the sights. 
 Didn't expect you quite so soon, I expect." 
 
 Maraton looked around the little sitting-room. It 
 was furnished with a carpet of bright green thrown 
 over a foundation of linoleum, a suite of stamped 
 magenta plush, an overmantel, gilt cornices over the 
 windows, a piano, a table covered with a gaudy table- 
 cloth. On the walls were hung some oleographs. 
 The lighting of the room was of gas with incan- 
 descent mantles. There had been, apparently, judg- 
 ing by an odour which still remained, a great deal 
 of beer consumed in the apartment at one time or 
 another.
 
 132 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 " Nice room, this," Mr. Henneford remarked ap- 
 provingly. " Slap up, ain't it? Your bedroom's next 
 door, and your secretary's just round the corner. 
 Done you proud, I reckon. Like a royal suite, eh? " 
 
 He laughed good-humouredly. Mr. Preston re- 
 moved his pipe and rang the bell. 
 
 " One drink, I think," he suggested, " and we'll 
 leave Mr. Maraton alone for a bit. You and I'll go 
 down to the station and meet the chaps from London, 
 and we'll have a meeting up here say at five 
 o'clock. That suit you, Mr. Maraton?" 
 
 " Excellently," Maraton assented. " What shall 
 I order? " he asked, as the waiter entered. 
 
 Beer, whiskey and cigars were brought. Maraton 
 asked a few eager questions about the condition of 
 one of the industries, and followed Henneford to 
 the door, talking rapidly. 
 
 " I know so little about the state of woman labour 
 over here," he said. " In America they are better 
 paid in proportion. Perhaps, if Miss Thurnbrein is 
 here, she will be able to give me some information." 
 
 " You'll soon get posted up," Mr. Henneford de- 
 clared. " I can see you've got a quick way of dealing 
 with things. So long till five o'clock, then. There's 
 a dozen chaps waiting down-stairs to see you. We'll 
 leave it to your judgment just what you want to 
 say to the Press. Ring the bell and have the waiter 
 bring their cards up." 
 
 They departed and Maraton returned to his sit- 
 ting-room. He stood for a moment looking out over 
 the city, the roar of which came to him clearly 
 enough through the open window. He forgot the
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 133 
 
 depressing tawdriness of his surroundings in the ex- 
 hilaration of the sound. He was back again amongst 
 the people, back again where the wheels of life were 
 crashing. The people ! He drew himself up and his 
 eyes sought the furthest limits of that dim yellow 
 haze. Somehow, notwithstanding a vague uneasiness 
 which hung about him like an effort of wounded con- 
 science, he had a still greater buoj^ancy of thought 
 when he considered his possibly altered attitude to- 
 wards the multitude who waited for his message. He 
 felt his feet upon the earth with more certainty, with 
 more implicit realism, than in those days when he 
 had spoken to them of the future and had perhaps 
 forgotten to tell them how far away that future 
 must be. There was something more practical about 
 his present attitude. What would they say here in 
 Manchester, expecting fire and thunder from his 
 lips and finding him hold out the olive branch? He 
 shrugged his shoulders ; a useless speculation, after 
 all. He rang the bell and glanced through the cards 
 which the waiter brought him. 
 
 " I have nothing of importance to say to any re- 
 porters," he declared, " but I will see them all for 
 two minutes. You can show them up in the order 
 in which they came." 
 
 The waiter withdrew and Maraton was loft for a 
 few moments alone. Then the door was opened and 
 closed again by the waiter, who made no announce- 
 ment. A man came forward a small man, very 
 neatly dressed, with gold spectacles and a little black 
 beard. Maraton welcomed him and pointed to a 
 chair.
 
 134 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 " I have nothing whatever to say to the news- 
 papers," he explained, " until after I have addressed 
 my first few meetings. You probably will have noth- 
 ing to ask me then. All the same, I am very pleased to 
 see you, and since you have been waiting, I thought 
 I had better have you come up, if it were only 
 for a moment. No one who has a great cause at 
 their backs, you know, can afford to disregard the 
 Press." 
 
 The man laid his hat upon the table. Maraton, 
 glancing across the room at him, was instantly con- 
 scious that this newcomer was no ordinary person. 
 He had a strong, intellectual forehead, a well-shaped 
 mouth. His voice, when he spoke, was pleasant, al- 
 though his accent was peculiar almost foreign. 
 
 " Mr. Maraton," his visitor began, " I thank you 
 very much for your courtesy, but I have nothing to 
 do with the Press. My name is Beldeman. I have 
 come to Manchester especially to see you." 
 
 Maraton nodded. 
 
 " We are strangers, I believe ? " he asked. 
 
 " Strangers personally. No thinking man to-day 
 is a stranger to Mr. Maraton in any other way." 
 
 " You are very kind," Maraton replied. " What 
 can I do for you?" 
 
 Beldeman glanced towards the door so as to be 
 sure that it was closed. 
 
 " Mr. Maraton," he enquired, " are you a bad- 
 tempered man ? " 
 
 " At times," Maraton admitted. 
 
 " I regret to see," his visitor proceeded, " that you 
 are a man of superior physique to min^. I am here
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 135 
 
 to make you an offer which you may consider an in- 
 sult. If you are a narrow, ordinary Englishman, 
 obstinate, with cast-iron principles and the usual 
 prejudices, you will probably try to throw me down- 
 stairs. It is part of my living to run the risk of 
 being thrown down-stairs." 
 
 " I will do my best," Maraton promised him, " to 
 restrain myself. You have at least succeeded in ex- 
 citing my curiosity." 
 
 " I am, to look at," Mr. Beldeman continued, " an 
 unimportant person. As a matter of fact, I repre- 
 sent a very great country, and I come to you charged 
 with a great mission." 
 
 Maraton became a little graver. 
 
 " Go on," he said. 
 
 " I am anxious perhaps over-anxious," Mr. 
 Beldeman proceeded, " that I should put this matter 
 before you in the most favourable light. I must 
 confess that I have spent hours trying to make up 
 my mind exactly how I should tell you my business. 
 I have changed my mind so many times that there 
 is nothing left of my original intention. I speak 
 now as the thoughts come to me. I am here on 
 behalf of a syndicate of manufacturers foreign 
 manufacturers to offer you a bribe." 
 
 Maraton stood quite still upon the hearth-rug. 
 His face showed no emotion whatever. 
 
 " You are, I believe," Mr. Beldeman went on, " only 
 half an Englishman. That is why I am hoping that 
 you will behave like a reasonable being, and that my 
 person may be saved from violence. Upon your 
 word rests the industrial future of this country for
 
 I 3 6 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 the next ten years. If your forges burn out and 
 your factories are emptied, it will mean an era of 
 prosperity for my country, indescribable. We are 
 great trade rivals. We need just the opening. 
 What we get we may not be able to hold altogether, 
 when trade is once more good here, but that is of 
 no consequence. We shall have it for a year or 
 two, and that year or two will mean a good many 
 millions to us." 
 
 Maraton's eyes began to twinkle. 
 
 " The matter," he remarked, " becomes clearer to 
 me. You are either the most ingenuous person I 
 ever met, or the most subtle. Tell me, is it a per- 
 sonal bribe you have brought? " 
 
 " It is not," Mr. Beldeman replied. " It did not 
 occur to those in whose employment I am, or to me, 
 to offer you a single sixpence. I am here to offer 
 you, if you send your people out on strike within 
 the next week the coal strike, the railway strike, 
 the ironfounders, the smelters, from the Clyde south- 
 wards one million pounds as a subscription to your 
 strike funds." 
 
 " You have it with you ? " Maraton enquired, after 
 a moment. 
 
 " I have four drafts for two hundred and fifty 
 thousand pounds each, in my pocket-book at the pres- 
 ent moment," Mr. Beldeman declared. " They are 
 payable to your order. You can accept my offer and 
 pay them into your private banking account or the 
 banking account of any one of your Trades' Unions. 
 There is not the slightest doubt but that they will 
 be met."
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 137 
 
 " Are there any terms at all connected with this 
 little subscription? " 
 
 " None," Beldeman replied. 
 
 " And your object," Maraton added, " is to bene- 
 fit through our loss of trade?" 
 
 " Entirely," Mr. Beldeman assented, without a 
 quiver upon his face. 
 
 Maraton was silent for a moment. 
 
 " I do not see my way absolutely clear," he an- 
 nounced, " to recommending a railway strike at the 
 present moment. If I acceded to all the others, what 
 v/ould your position be? The railway strike is of 
 little consequence to a foreign nation. The coal 
 strike, and the iron and steel works of Sheffield and 
 Leeds closed that's where English trade would suf- 
 fer most, especially if the cotton people came out." 
 
 Mr. Beldeman shook his head slowly. 
 
 " My conditions," he said, " embrace the railways." 
 
 " Somehow, I fancied that they would," Maraton 
 remarked. " Tell me why ? " 
 
 Beldeman rose slowly to his feet. 
 
 " Are you an Englishman ? " he asked. 
 
 " I can't deny it," Maraton replied. " I was born 
 abroad. Why are you so interested in my nation- 
 ality?" 
 
 Beldeman shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " I cannot tell you. Just an idea. I do not wish 
 to say too much. I wish you only to consider what 
 a million pounds will do to help your work people. 
 You, they say, are one of those who love the people 
 as your own children. A million pounds may en- 
 able them to hold out until they can secure practi-
 
 i 3 8 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 cally what terms they like. Those million pounds are 
 yours to-day, yours for the people, if you pledge your 
 word to a universal strike." 
 
 " Including the railways ? " 
 
 " Including the railways," Mr. Beldeman assented. 
 
 Maraton smiled quietly. 
 
 " I do not ask you," he said, " what country you 
 represent. I think that it is not necessary. You 
 have come to me rather as though I were a dictator. 
 There are others besides myself with whom influence 
 rests." 
 
 " It is you only who count," Mr. Beldeman de- 
 clared. " I am thankful that at any rate you have 
 met my offer in a reasonable spirit. Accept it, Mr. 
 Maraton. What concern have you for other things 
 save only for the welfare of the people ? " 
 
 " I have considered this matter," Maraton re- 
 marked, " many, many times. A universal strike, ab- 
 solutely universal so far as regards transport and 
 coal, would place the country in a paralytic and help- 
 less condition. Still, so many people have assured 
 us that an onslaught from any foreign country is 
 never seriously to be considered, that I have come 
 to believe it myself. What is your opinion? " 
 
 Mr. Beldeman remained silent for a few moments. 
 
 " One cannot tell," he said. " The stock of coal 
 available for your home fleet happens to be rather 
 low just now. One cannot tell what might happen. 
 Do you greatly care? Wasn't it you who, in one of 
 jour speeches, pointed out that a war in your coun- 
 ty would be welcome? That the class who would 
 Suffer would be the class who are your great op-
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 139 
 
 pressors the manufacturers, the middle classes 
 and that with their downfall the working man would 
 struggle upwards? Do you believe, Mr. Maraton, 
 that a war would hurt your own people? " 
 
 " My own ideas," Maraton replied, " are in a state 
 of transition. However, your offer is declined." 
 
 "Declined without conditions?" Mr. Beldeman 
 enquired, taking up his hat. 
 
 " For the present it is declined without conditions. 
 I will be quite frank with you. Your offer doesn't 
 shock me as it might do if I were a right-feeling 
 Imperialist of the proper Jingo type. I believe that 
 a week ago I should have considered it very seriously 
 indeed. Its acceptance would have been in accord- 
 ance with my beliefs. And yet, since you have made 
 it, you have made me wonder more than ever whether 
 I have been right. I find a revulsion of feeling in 
 considering it, which I cannot understand." 
 
 " I may approach you again," Mr. Beldeman 
 asked, " if circumstances should change ? Possibly 
 you yourself may, upon reflection, appreciate my 
 suggestion more thoroughly." 
 
 Maraton was silent for a moment. When he 
 looked up he was alone. Mr. Beldeman had not 
 waited for his reply.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 One by one, Maraton got rid at last of the little 
 crowd of journalists who had been waiting for him 
 below. The last on the list was perhaps the most 
 difficult. He pressed very hard for an answer to 
 his direct question. 
 
 " War or peace, Mr. Maraton ? Which is it to 
 be? Just one word, that's all." 
 
 Maraton shook his head. 
 
 " In less than an hour, the delegates from London 
 will be here," he announced. " We shall hold a con- 
 ference and come to our decision then." 
 
 " Will their coming make any real difference?" 
 the journalist persisted. " You hadn't much to say 
 to delegates in America." 
 
 " The Labour Party over here is better organised, 
 in some respects," Maraton told him. " I have 
 nothing to say until after the conference." 
 
 His persistent visitor drew a little nearer to him. 
 
 " There's a report about that you've been staying 
 with Foley." 
 
 " And how does that affect the matter ? " Maraton 
 enquired. 
 
 The journalist looked him in the face. 
 
 " The men never had a leader yet," he said, *' whom 
 officialdom didn't spoil." 
 
 All this time Maraton was standing with the door
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 141 
 
 in one hand and his other hand upon the shoulder 
 of the man whom he was endeavouring to get rid of. 
 His grasp suddenly tightened. The door was closed 
 and the reporter was outside. Maraton turned to 
 Aaron, with whom, as yet, he had scarcely exchanged 
 a word. The latter was sitting at a table, sorting 
 letters. 
 
 " How long will those fellows be? " he asked. 
 
 Aaron glanced at the clock. 
 
 " On their way here by now, I should say," he 
 replied. " They are all coming. They tried to 
 leave David Ross behind, but he wouldn't have it." 
 
 Maraton nodded grimly. 
 
 " Too many," he muttered. 
 
 Aaron leaned a little forward in his place. His 
 long, hatchet-shaped face was drawn and white. 
 His eyes were full of a pitiful anxiety. 
 
 " They were talking like men beside themselves 
 at the Clarion and up at Dale's house last night," he 
 said. " TKey were mad about your having gone to 
 Foley's. Graveling he was the worst he's tell- 
 ing them all that you're up to some mischief on your 
 own account. They are all grumbling like a lot of 
 sore heads. If they could stop your speaking here 
 to-night, I believe they would. They're a rotten lot. 
 Before they got their places in Parliament, they were 
 perfect firebrands. Blast them ! " 
 
 " And you, Aaron " 
 
 Maraton suddenly paused. The door was softly 
 opened, and Julia stood there. She was wearing her 
 hat and coat, but her hands were gloveless ; she had 
 just returned from the street.
 
 I 4 2 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 " Come in," Maraton invited. " So you're look- 
 ing after Aaron, are you? " 
 
 " I couldn't keep away," Julia said simply. " I 
 thought I'd better let you both know that the street 
 below is filling up. They've heard that you are here. 
 People were running away from before the Midland 
 as I came round the corner." 
 
 Maraton glanced out of the window. There was a 
 hurrying crowd fast approaching the front of the 
 hotel. He drew back. 
 
 " I was just on the point of asking Aaron," he 
 remarked, " exactly what it is that is expected from 
 me to-night. Tell me what is in your mind ? " 
 
 Her face lit up as she looked at him. 
 
 " We are like children," she replied, " all of us. 
 We have too much faith. I think that what we are 
 expecting is a miracle." 
 
 " Is it wise? " Maraton asked quietly. " Don't 
 you think that it may lead to disappointment ? " 
 
 She considered the thought for a moment and 
 brushed it away. 
 
 " We are not afraid, Aaron and I." 
 
 " You are belligerents, both of you." 
 
 " And so are you," Julia retorted swiftly. " What 
 was it you said in Chicago about the phrase-makers? 
 the Socialism that flourished in the study while 
 women and children starved in the streets? Those 
 are the sort of things that we remember, Aaron 
 and I." 
 
 " This is a country of slow progress," Maraton 
 reminded them. " One builds stone by stone. Listen 
 to me carefully, you two. Since you have had under-
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 143 
 
 standing, your eyes have been fixed upon this one 
 immense problem. I have a question to ask you 
 concerning it. Shall I destroy for the sake of the 
 unborn generations, or shall I use all my cunning 
 and the power of the people to lead them a little 
 further into the light during their living days? 
 What would they say themselves, do you think? 
 Would one in a hundred be content to sacrifice him- 
 self for a principle?" 
 
 " Who knows that the millennium would be so long 
 delayed? " Julia exclaimed. " A few years might 
 see Society reconstituted, with new laws and a new 
 humanity." 
 
 Maraton shook his head. 
 
 " Don't make any mistake about that," he said. 
 " If I press the levers upon which to-day my hand 
 seems to rest, this country will be laid waste with 
 famine and riot and conquest. An hour ago a little 
 man was here, a little, black-bearded man with a 
 quiet voice, charged with a great mission. He came 
 to offer me, on behalf of a syndicate of foreign manu- 
 facturers, a million pounds towards our universal 
 strike." 
 
 They both gasped. The thing was surely incredi- 
 ble! 
 
 " An incident like that," Maraton continued, " may 
 show you what this country must lose, for her rivals 
 do not give away a million pounds for nothing." 
 
 Julia's eyes were fixed upon his. Her face was 
 full of strained anxiety. 
 
 " You talk," she murmured, " as though you had 
 doubts, as though you were hesitating. Forgive me
 
 I 4 4 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 we have waited so long for to-day we and all 
 the others." 
 
 " Could any one," he demanded, " stand in the 
 position I stand in to-day and not have doubts ? " 
 
 Her eyes flashed at him. 
 
 " Yes," she cried, " a prophet could ! A real man 
 could the man we thought you were, could ! " 
 
 Aaron leaned forward, aghast. His monosyllable 
 was charged with terrified reproach. 
 
 "Julia!" 
 
 She turned upon him. 
 
 " You, too ! You weren't at Lyndwood, were 
 you ? . . . Doubts ! " she went on fiercely, her eyes 
 flashing once more upon Maraton. " How can you 
 fire their blood if there are doubts in your heart? 
 So long these people have waited. No wonder their 
 hearts are sick and their brains are clogged, their 
 will is tired. Prophet after prophet they have fol- 
 lowed blindly through the wilderness. Always it has 
 been the prophet who has been caught up into the 
 easier ways, and the people who have sunk back into 
 misery." 
 
 She fell suddenly upon her knees. Before he 
 could stop her, she was at his feet, her face straining 
 up to his. 
 
 " Forgive me ! " she cried. " For the love of the 
 women and the little children, don't fail us now ! If 
 you don't say the word to-night, it will never be 
 spoken, never in your day nor mine. It isn't legis- 
 lation they want any more. It's revolution, the 
 cleansing fires! The land where the sun shines lies 
 on the other side of the terrible way. Lead them
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 145 
 
 across. Don't try the devious paths. They have 
 filled you with the poison of common sense. It isn't 
 common sense that's wanted. It's only an earth- 
 quake can bring out the spirit of the people and 
 make them see and hold what belongs to them." 
 
 Maraton lifted her up. Her body was quivering. 
 She lay, for a moment, passive in his arms. Then 
 she sprang away. She stood with her back to him, 
 looking out of the window. 
 
 " The streets are full of people," she said quietly. 
 " Their eyes are all turned here. Poor people ! " 
 
 Maraton crossed the room and stood by her side. 
 He spoke very gently. He even took her hand, which 
 lay like a lump of ice in his. 
 
 " Julia," he whispered, " you lose hope and trust 
 too soon." 
 
 " You have spoken of doubts," she answered, in a 
 low tone. " The prophet has no doubts." 
 
 There was a sound of voices outside, of heavy foot- 
 steps on the stairs. They heard Graveling's loud, 
 unpleasant voice. The delegates had arrived!
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 Maraton, with the peculiar sensitiveness of the 
 artist to an altered atmosphere, was keenly conscious 
 of the change when Julia had left the room and the 
 delegates had entered. One by one they shook hands 
 with Maraton and took their places around the table. 
 They had no appearance of men charged with a great 
 mission. Henneford, who had met them at the sta- 
 tion, was beaming with hospitality. Peter Dale was 
 full of gruff good-humour and jokes. Graveling 
 alone entered with a scowl and sat with folded arms 
 and the air of a dissentient. Borden, who com- 
 plained of feeling train-sick, insisted upon drinks 
 being served, and Culvain, with a notebook upon his 
 knee, ostentatiously sharpened a pencil. It was very 
 much like a meeting of a parish council. Ross alone 
 amongst the delegates had the absorbed air of a man 
 on the threshold of great things, and Aaron, from 
 his seat behind Maraton, watched his master all the 
 time with strained and passionate attention. 
 
 " In the first place," Peter Dale began, " we've 
 no wish to commence this meeting with any unpleas- 
 antness. At the same time, Mr. Maraton, we did 
 think that after that letter of ours you'd have seen 
 your way clear to come up to London and cut short 
 that visit to Mr. Foley. We were all there waiting 
 for you, and there were some of us that didn't take it
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 147 
 
 altogether in what I might call a favourable spirit, 
 that you chose to keep away." 
 
 " To tell you the truth," Maraton replied calmly, 
 " I did not see the faintest reason why I should 
 shorten my visit to Mr. Foley. We had arranged 
 to meet here to-day and that seemed to me to be 
 quite sufficient." 
 
 Peter Dale tugged at his beard for a moment. 
 
 " I am not wishful," he reiterated, " to commence 
 a discussion which might lead to disagreement between 
 us. We'll drop the matter for the present. Is that 
 agreeable to everybody ? " 
 
 There was a little murmur of assent. Graveling 
 only was stolidly silent. Peter Dale struck the table 
 with his fist. 
 
 " Now then, lads," he said, " let's get on with it." 
 
 " This being mainly my show," John Henneford 
 declared, " I'll come and sit at your right hand, Mr. 
 Maraton. You've got all the papers I've sent you 
 about the cotton workers ? " 
 
 " I have looked them through," Maraton replied, 
 " but most of their contents were familiar to me. 
 I made a study of the condition of all your industries 
 so far as I could, last year." 
 
 " Between you and me," Peter Dale grumbled, 
 " this meeting ought to have been held in Newcastle 
 and not Manchester. These cotton chaps of yours, 
 Henneford, ain't doing so badly. It's my miners 
 that want another leg up." 
 
 Henneford struck the table with his fist. 
 
 "Rot!" he exclaimed. "Your miners have just 
 had a turn. Half-a-crown a week extra, and a mini-
 
 i 4 8 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 mum wage what more do you want ? And a piece 
 of plate and a nice fat cheque for Mr. Dale/' he 
 added, turning to the others and winking. 
 
 Peter Dale beamed good-humouredly upon them. 
 
 ' Well," he retorted, " I earned it. You fellows 
 should organise in the same way. It took me a good 
 many years' hard work, I can tell you, to bring my 
 lot up to the scratch. Anyway, here we are, and 
 Manchester it's got to be this time. In an hour, 
 Mr. Maraton, the secretary of the Manchester 
 Labour Party will be here. He's got two demand 
 scales made out for you to look through. Your job 
 is to work the people up so that they drop their tools 
 next Saturday night." 
 
 " There was an idea," Maraton reminded them 
 quietly, " that I should speak to-night not only to 
 the operatives of Manchester but to Labour through- 
 out the Empire ; that I should make a pronouncement 
 which should have in it something of a common basis 
 for all industries which would, in short, unsettle 
 Labour in every great centre." 
 
 They all looked a little blank. Henneford shook 
 his head. 
 
 " It can't be done," he affirmed. " One job at a 
 time's our way. You're going to speak to cotton 
 to-night, and we want the mills emptied by the end 
 of the week. We've got a scheme amongst the 
 Unions, as you know, for helping one another, and 
 as soon as we've finished with cotton, then we'll go 
 for iron." 
 
 " That's an old promise," Weavel declared sturdily. 
 
 "What about the potteries?" Mr. Borden ei-
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 149 
 
 claimed. " It's six years since we had any sort of 
 a dust-up, and my majority was the smallest of the 
 lot of you, last election. Something's got to be done 
 down my way. My chaps won't go paying in and 
 paying in forever. We've fifty-nine thousand 
 pounds waiting, and the condition of our girl labour 
 is beastly." 
 
 " Iron comes next," Weavel persisted stolidly. 
 " That's been settled amongst ourselves. And as 
 for your fifty-nine thousand, Borden, what about 
 our hundred and thirty thousand? We shall all 
 have to be lending up here, too, to work this thing 
 properly." 
 
 " Let's get on," Peter Dale proposed, rapping on 
 the table. " Now listen here, all of you. What I 
 propose is, if we're satisfied with Mr. Maraton's ad- 
 dress to-night, as I've no doubt we shall be," he 
 added, bowing to Maraton with clumsy politeness, 
 " that we appoint him kind of lecturer to the Unions, 
 and we make out a sort of itinerary for him, to kind 
 of pave the way, and then he gives one of these Chi- 
 cago orations of his at the last moment in each of 
 the principal centres. We'd fix a salary no need 
 to be mean about it and get to work as soon as 
 this affair's over. And meanwhile, while this strike's 
 on, Mr. Maraton might address a few meetings in 
 other centres on behalf of these fellows, and rope in 
 some coin. There are one or two matters we shall 
 have to have an understanding about, however, and 
 one as had better be cleared up right now. I'll ask 
 you, Mr. Maraton, to explain to us just what you 
 meant down at the Clarion the other night? We
 
 i 5 o A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 weren't expecting you there and you rather took us 
 aback, and we didn't find what you said altogether 
 helpful or particularly lucid. Now what's this busi- 
 ness about a universal strike ? " 
 
 Maraton sat for a moment almost silent. He 
 looked down the table, along the line of faces, coarse 
 faces most of them, of varying strength, plebeian, 
 forceful here and there, with one almost common 
 quality of stubbornness. They were men of the peo- 
 ple, all of them, men of the narrow ways. What 
 words of his could take them into the further land? 
 He raised his head. He felt curiously depressed, 
 immeasurably out of touch with these who should 
 have been his helpmates. The sight of Julia just 
 then would have been a joy to him. 
 
 " Perhaps," Maraton began, with a little sigh, " I 
 had better first explain my own position. You are 
 each of you Members of Parliament for a particular 
 district. The interests of each of you are bound 
 up in the welfare of the operatives who send you to 
 Parliament. It's your job to look after them, and 
 I've no doubt you do it well. Only, you see, it's a 
 piecemeal sort of business to call yourselves the rep- 
 resentatives of Labour in its broadest sense. I be- 
 long more, I am afraid, to the school of theorists. 
 In rey mind I bring all Labour together, all the toilers 
 of the world who are slaves to the great Moloch, 
 Capital. You have an immense middle class here in 
 England, who are living in fatness and content. The 
 keynote of my creed is that these people have twice 
 the incomes they ought to have, and Labour half 
 as much. That, of course, is just the simple, old-
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 151 
 
 fashioned, illogical Socialism with which you prob- 
 ably all started life, and which doubtless lies in 
 some forgotten chamber of the minds of all of you. 
 You've given it up because you've decided that it was 
 unpractical. I haven't. I believe that if we were 
 to pull down the pillars which hold up the greatness 
 of this nation, I believe that if we were to lay her 
 in ruins about us, that in the years to come per- 
 haps I ought to say the generations to come the 
 rebuilding, stone by stone, would be on the sane 
 principle which, once established, would last for 
 eternity, of an absolute partnership between Capital 
 and Labour, a partnership which I say would be 
 eternal because, in course of time, the two would 
 become one." 
 
 They all looked at one another a little blankly. 
 Peter Dale grunted with expressionless face and relit 
 his pipe, which had gone out during these few mo- 
 ments of intense listening. Graveling reached out his 
 hand and took a cigar from a box which had been 
 placed upon the table. Henneford and his neigh- 
 bour exchanged glances, which culminated in a 
 stealthy wink. Alone at the table David Ross sat 
 like a figure of stone, his mouth a little open, some- 
 thing of the light in his face. 
 
 " I'm too much of an Englishman, for one," 
 Graveling said, " to want to pull the country down. 
 Now where does this universal strike come in? " 
 
 " The universal strike," Maraton explained quietly, 
 " is the doctrine I came to England to preach. It 
 is the doctrine I meant to preach to-night. If your 
 coal strike and your iron strike and your railway
 
 152 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 strike were declared within the next few days, the 
 pillars would indeed be pulled down." 
 
 " Why, I should say so ! " Peter Dale declared 
 gruffly. " Half the people in the country would be 
 starving ; there'd be no subscriptions to the Unions ; 
 the blooming Germans would be over here in no time, 
 and we should lose our jobs." 
 
 " It wouldn't do, Mr. Maraton," Borden said 
 briskly. " It's our job to improve the position of our 
 constituents, but it's jolly certain we shouldn't do 
 that by bringing ruin upon the country." 
 
 David Ross suddenly struck the table with his fist. 
 
 " You are wrong, all of you," he cried hoarsely. 
 " You are ignorant men, thick-headed, fat, narrow 
 fools, full of self-interest and prejudice. You want 
 your jobs; they come first. I tell you that the 
 man's right. Purge the country ; get rid of the poi- 
 son of ill-distributed capital, start again a new nation 
 and a new morning." 
 
 Dale looked across the table, pityingly. 
 
 " What you need, Ross, is a drink," he remarked. 
 *' I noticed you weren't doing yourself very well com- 
 ing down." 
 
 David Ross rose heavily to his feet. His arm was 
 stretched out towards Dale and it was the arm of an 
 accuser. 
 
 " Doing myself well ! " he repeated, with fierce 
 contempt. " That's the keynote of your lives, you 
 lazy, self-satisfied swine, who call yourselves people's 
 men ! What do you know or care about the people ? 
 How many of you have walked by day and night in 
 the wilderness and felt your heart die away within
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 153 
 
 you? How many of you have watched the people 
 hour by hour the broken people, the vicious peo- 
 ple, the cripples, the white slaves of crueller days 
 than the most barbarous countries in history have 
 ever permitted to their children? You understand 
 your jobs, and you do yourselves well; that's your 
 motto and your epitaph. There's only one amongst 
 you who's a people's man and that's him." 
 
 He pointed to Maraton and sat down. Peter Dale 
 removed his pipe from his mouth. 
 
 " It's just as well, David Ross, for you to remem- 
 ber," he said gruffly, " that you're here on sufferance. 
 Seems to me there's a bit of the dog in the manger 
 about your whining. I don't know as it matters 
 to any one particularly what your opinion is, but if 
 you expect to be taken in along of us, you'll have 
 to alter your style a bit. It's all very well for the 
 platform, but it don't go down here. Now, lads, 
 let's get on with business. What I say is this. If 
 Mr. Maraton is going on the platform to-night to 
 talk anarchy, why then we'd best stop it. We want 
 subscriptions, we want the sympathy of the British 
 public in this strike, and there's nothing would make 
 them button up their pockets quicker than for Mr. 
 Maraton there to go and talk about bringing ruin 
 upon the Empire for the sake of the people who ain't 
 born yet. That's what I call thinking in the clouds. 
 There's nowt of good in it for us," he added, with 
 a momentary and vigorous return into his own ver- 
 nacular. " Get it out of thy head, lad, or pack 
 thy bag and get thee back to America." 
 
 There was a brief silence. Most of those present
 
 i 5 4 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 had drawn a little sigh of relief. It was obvious 
 that they were entirely in agreement with Dais. Only 
 Ross was leaning across the table, his eyes blinking, 
 drumming upon the tablecloth with the palm of his 
 hand. 
 
 " That's right," he muttered, " that's right. Send 
 him away, the only one who sees the truth. Send him 
 away. It's dangerous ; you might lose your jobs ! " 
 
 Then Maraton spoke quietly from his place. 
 
 " Gentlemen," he said, " I gather one thing, at 
 least, from our brief conference. You are not ex- 
 tremists. I will bear that in mind. But as to what 
 I may or may not say to-night, I make no promises." 
 
 " If you're not going to support the strike," Peter 
 Dale declared sturdily, " then thou shalt never set 
 foot upon the platform. We've had our fears that 
 this might be the result of your spending the week- 
 end with Mr. Foley. There's six of us here, all 
 accredited representatives of great industrial centres, 
 and he's never thought fit to ask one of us to set foot 
 under his roof. Never mind that. We, perhaps," 
 he added, with a slow glance at Maraton, ** haven't 
 learnt the knack of wearing our Sunday coats. But 
 just you listen. If Mr. Foley 's been getting at you 
 about this cotton strike, and you mean to throw cold 
 water upon it to-night, then I tell ye that you're out 
 for trouble. These Lancashire lads don't stick at a 
 bit. They'll pull you limb from limb if you give 
 them any of Mr. Foley's soft sawder. We're out 
 to fight in our own way, perhaps, but to fight." 
 
 " It is true that I have spent the week-end with 
 Mr. Foley," Maraton admitted. " I had thought,
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 155 
 
 perhaps, to have reported to you to-day the substance 
 of our conversation. I feel now, though," he con- 
 tinued, " that it would be useless. You call your- 
 selves Labour Members, and in your way you are 
 no doubt excellent machines. I, too, call myself a 
 Labour man, but we stand far apart in our ideas, in 
 our methods. I think, Mr. Peter Dale and gentle- 
 men, that we will go our own ways. We will fight 
 for the people as seems best to us. I do not think 
 that an alliance is possible." 
 
 They stared at him, a little amazed. 
 
 " Look here, young man," Peter Dale expostulated, 
 " what's it all about? What do you want from us? 
 I spoke of a job as lecturer just now. If you've 
 really got the gift of speaking that they say you 
 have, that'll bring you into Parliament in time, and 
 I reckon you'll settle down fast enough with the rest 
 of us then. Until then, what is it you want? We 
 are sensible men. We all know you can't go spouting 
 round the country for nothing, whether it's for the 
 people, or woman's suffrage, or any old game. Open 
 your mouth and let's hear what you have to say." 
 
 Maraton rose to his feet. 
 
 " I will, perhaps," he said, " come to you with an 
 offer a little later on. For the present I must be 
 excused. I have an appointment which Mr. Hen- 
 neford has arranged for me with Mr. Preston, 
 Secretary of the Union here. There are a good 
 many facts I need to make sure of before to-night." 
 
 Mr. Dale moved his pipe to the other side of his 
 mouth. 
 
 " That's all very well for a tale," he muttered,
 
 156 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 " but I'm not so sure about letting you go on to 
 the platform at all to-night. We don't want our 
 people fed up with the wrong sort of stuff." 
 
 Maraton smiled. 
 
 " Mr. Dale," he begged quietly, " listen." 
 
 They were all, for a moment, silent. Maraton 
 opened the window. From outside came a low roar 
 of voices from the packed crowds who were even now 
 blocking the street. 
 
 " These are my masters, Mr. Dale," Maraton said, 
 " and I don't think there's any power you or your 
 friends could make use of to-night, which will keep 
 me from my appointment with them."
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 In the roar of applause which followed Maraton's 
 brilliant but wholly unprepared peroration, a roar 
 which broke and swelled like the waves of the sea, 
 different people upon the platform heard different 
 things. Peter Dale and his little band of coadjutors 
 were men enough to know that a new force had come 
 amongst them. It is possible, even, that they, 
 hardened as they were by time and circumstances, 
 felt some thrill of that erstwhile enthusiasm which in 
 their younger days had brought them out from the 
 ranks of their fellows. To Aaron, listening with 
 quivering attention to every sentence, it seemed like 
 the consummation of all his dreams. Julia alone was 
 conscious of a certain restraint, knew that behind 
 all the deep feeling and splendid hopefulness of Mara- 
 ton's words, there was a sense of something kept 
 back. It wasn't what he had meant to say. Some- 
 thing had come between Maraton and his passionate 
 dreams of freedom. He, too, had become a particu- 
 larist. He, too, was content to preach salvation 
 piecemeal. He had spoken to them at first simply, 
 as one worker to another. Then he had drifted out 
 into the larger sea, and for those few moments he 
 had been, at any rate, vigorously in earnest as he 
 had attacked with scorpion-like bitterness the hideous 
 disproportions which existed between the capitalised
 
 I 5 8 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 corporation and the labour which supported it. Yet 
 afterwards he had gone back within himself. Almost 
 she had expected to see him with his hands upraised, 
 bidding them tear down these barriers for themselves. 
 Instead he showed them the legalised way, not to free 
 humanity, but to ensure for themselves a more com- 
 fortable place in life. It was all very magnificent. 
 The strike was assured now, almost the success of it. 
 
 It was long before they let him leave the platform. 
 In the droning impotence of the men who followed 
 him, the vast audience seemed to realise once more the 
 splendid perfection of his wholly natural and inspir- 
 ing oratory. They rose and shouted for him, and 
 once again, as he said a few words, the spell of silence 
 lay upon them. Julia sat telling herself passion- 
 ately that all was well, that nothing more than this 
 was to have been hoped for, that indeed the liberator 
 had come. More than once she felt Aaron's hands 
 gripping her arm, as Maraton's words seemed to 
 cleave a way towards the splendid truth. Ross, on 
 her other side, was like a man carried into another 
 world. 
 
 " It is the Messiah," he muttered, " the Messiah 
 of suffering men and women! No longer will they 
 cry aloud for bread and be given stones." 
 
 Everything that happened afterwards seemed, in 
 a way, commonplace. When at last they succeeded in 
 leaving the platform, they had to wait for a long time 
 in an anteroom while some portion of the immense 
 crowd dispersed. Peter Dale, as soon as he had lit 
 his pipe, came up to Maraton and patted him on the 
 shoulder.
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 159 
 
 " There's no doubt about thy gift, lad," he said 
 condescendingly. " A man who can talk as you 
 do has no need to look elsewhere for a living." 
 
 " Gave it to 'em straight," Mr. Weavel assented, 
 '* and what I propose is a meeting at Sheffield say 
 this day month and an appeal to the ironf ounders. 
 It's all very well, Borden," he went on, a little angrily, 
 " but my people are looking for something from me, 
 in return for their cash. What with these strikes 
 here and strikes there, and a bit out of it for every- 
 body, why, it's time Sheffield spoke." 
 
 " There's a question I should like to ask," Gravel- 
 ing intervened, plunging into the discussion, " and 
 that is, why are you so cocksure, Mr. Maraton, of 
 Government support in favour of the men? You 
 said in your speech to-night, so far as I remember, 
 that if the masters wouldn't give in without, Govern- 
 ment must force them to see the rights of the matter. 
 And not only that, but Government should compel 
 them to recognise the Union and to deal with it. 
 Now you've only been in this country a few days, 
 and it seemed to me you were talking on a pretty 
 tall order." 
 
 " Not at all," Maraton replied. " I have a scheme 
 of my own, scarcely developed as yet, a scheme which 
 I wasn't sure, when I came here, that I should ever 
 make use of, which justified me in saying what I 
 did." 
 
 They looked at him jealously. 
 
 " Is it an arrangement with Mr. Foley that you're 
 speaking of? " Peter Dale enquired. 
 
 " Perhaps so," Maraton assented.
 
 i6o A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 There was a dead silence. Maraton was leaning 
 slightly against a table. Julia was talking to the 
 wife of one of the delegates, a little way off. The 
 others were all spread around, smoking and helping 
 themselves to drinks which had just been brought in. 
 Graveling's face was dark and angry. 
 
 " Are we to gather," he demanded, " that there's 
 some sort of an understanding between you and Mr. 
 Foley?" 
 
 " If there is," Maraton asked easily, " to whom 
 am I responsible ? " 
 
 There was a silence, brief but intense. Julia had 
 turned her head; the others, too, were listening. 
 Peter Dale was blowing tobacco smoke from his 
 mouth, Borden was breathing heavily. Graveling's 
 small eyes were bright with anger and distrust. They 
 were all of them realising the presence of a new 
 force which had come amongst them, and already, 
 with the immeasurable selfishness of their class, they 
 were speculating as to its personal effect upon them- 
 selves. Peter Dale, with his hands in his trousers 
 pockets, and his pipe between his teeth, elbowed his 
 way to Maraton's side. 
 
 " Young man," he began solemnly, " we'd best 
 have an understanding. Ask any of these others and 
 they'll tell you I'm the leader of the Labour Party. 
 Are you one of us or aren't you ? " 
 
 " One of you, in a sense, I hope, Mr. Dale," Mara- 
 ton answered simply. " Only you must put me down 
 as an Independent. I don't understand conditions 
 over here yet. Where my own way seems best, I am 
 used to following it."
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN i6r 
 
 Peter Dale removed his pipe from his mouth and 
 spoke with added distinctness. 
 
 " Politics over here," he said, " are a simpler game 
 than in the States, but there's one class of person 
 we've got to do without, and that's the Independent 
 Member. You can't do anything over here except 
 by sticking together. If you'll come under the 
 standard, you're welcome. I'll say nothing about 
 Parliament for a time, but we'll find you all the talk- 
 ing you want and see that you're well paid for it." 
 
 Looking past the speaker's hard, earnest face, 
 Maraton was conscious of the scorn flashing in Julia's 
 eyes. Intuitively he felt her appreciation of the 
 coarse selfishness of these men, terrified at his gifts, 
 resisting stubbornly the unwelcome conviction of a 
 new mastership. Her lips even moved, as though, 
 she were signalling to him. At that moment, indeed,, 
 he would have been glad of her guidance. He needed 
 the machinery which these men controlled, distasteful 
 though their ideals and methods might be to him. 
 
 " Mr. Dale," he declared, " I am a people's man. 
 I cannot enroll myself in your party because I fancy 
 that in many ways we should think differently. But 
 with so many objects in common, it is surely possible 
 for us to be friends ? " 
 
 Ross leaned suddenly forward in his chair, his 
 grey face passion-stirred, the sweat upon his fore- 
 head. 
 
 " Aye ! " he cried, " it's the greatest friend or the 
 bitterest enemy of the people you'll be. You'll da 
 more with that tongue of yours than a library of 
 books or a century of Parliament, and may it wither
 
 162 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 in your mouth if they buy you those others ! God 
 meant you for a people's man. It'll be hell for you 
 and for us if they buy you away." 
 
 Maraton changed his position a little. He was 
 facing them all now. 
 
 " My friends," he said, " that is one thing of 
 which you need have no fear. Our methods may be 
 different, we may work in different ways, but we 
 shall work towards the same goal. Remember this, 
 and remember always that whether we fight under 
 the same banner or not, I have told it to you solemnly 
 and from the bottom of my heart. I am a people's 
 man!" 
 
 He turned towards the door and laid his hand upon 
 Aaron's shoulder. Julia, too, rose and followed him. 
 
 " I think," he added, " that the people will have 
 cleared off by now. I am going to try and get back 
 to the hotel. I have messages to send away, and an 
 early train to catch in the morning." 
 
 They were passing out of the room almost in 
 silence, but Henneford struck the table with his fist. 
 
 " Come," he exclaimed, " we seem in a queer 
 humour to-night ! Don't let Mr. Maraton think too 
 hardly of us. Wherever his place may be in the 
 future, he's done us a grand service to-night, and 
 don't let's forget it. He's waked these people up 
 as none other of us could have done. He's started 
 this strike in such a fashion as none other of us 
 could. Don't let's forget to be grateful. The edu- 
 cation and the oratory isn't all on the other side 
 now. If we don't see you again to-night, Mr. Mara- 
 ton, or before you leave for London, here's my^
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 163 
 
 thanks, for one, for to-night's work, and I'll lay 
 odds that the others are with me." 
 
 They crowded around him after that, and though 
 Graveling stood on one side and Peter Dale still main- 
 tained his attitude of doubt, they all parted cordially 
 enough. They reached the back door of the hall 
 and found the shelter of a four-wheeled cab. Before 
 they could start, however, they were discovered. 
 People came running from all directions. Looking 
 through the window, they could see nothing but a 
 sea of white faces. The crazy vehicle rocked from 
 side to side. The driver was lifted from his seat, 
 the horse unharnessed. Slowly, and surrounded by 
 a cheering multitude, they dragged the cab through 
 the streets. Julia, sitting by Maraton's side, felt 
 herself impelled to hold on to his arm. Her body, 
 her every sense was thrilled with the hoarse, dra- 
 matic roll of their voices, the forest of upraised 
 caps, the strange calm of the man, who glanced some- 
 times almost sadly from side to side. She clutched 
 at him once passionately. 
 
 " Isn't it wonderful ! " she murmured. " All the 
 time they call to you their liberator ! " 
 
 He smiled, and there was a shadow still of sadness 
 in his eyes. 
 
 " It is a moment's frenzy," he said. " They have 
 seen a gleam of the truth. When the light goes out, 
 the old burden will seem all the heavier. It is so 
 little that man can do for them." 
 
 They had flung open the top of the cab, and Mara- 
 ton's eyes were fixed far ahead at the dull glow 
 which hung over the city, the haze of smoke and
 
 164 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 heat, stretching like a sulphurous pall southwards. 
 The roar of voices was always in his ears, but for 
 a moment his thoughts seemed to have passed away, 
 his eyes seemed to be seeking for some message beyond 
 the clouds. He alone knew the full meaning of the 
 hour which had passed. 
 
 They were sitting alone in the library, the French 
 windows wide open, the languorous night air heavy 
 with the perfume of roses and the sweetness of the 
 cedars, drawn out by the long day's sunshine. Mr. 
 Foley was sitting with folded arms, silent and pensive 
 a man waiting. And by his side was Elisabeth, 
 standing for a moment with her fingers upon his 
 shoulder. 
 
 " Is that eleven o'clock? J> she asked. 
 
 " A quarter past," he answered. " We shall hear 
 in a few minutes now." 
 
 She moved restlessly away. There was something 
 spectral about her in her light muslin frock, as she 
 vanished through the windows and reappeared almost 
 immediately, threading her way amongst the flower 
 beds. Suddenly the telephone bell at Mr. Foley's 
 elbow rang. He raised the receiver. She came 
 swiftly to his side. 
 
 "Manchester?" she heard him say. . . . "Yes, 
 this is Lyndwood Park. It is Mr. Foley speaking. 
 Go on." 
 
 There was silence then. Elisabeth stood with 
 parted lips and luminous eyes, her hand upon his 
 shoulder. She watched him, watched the slow 
 movement of his head, the relaxing of his hard, thin
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 165 
 
 lips, the flash in his eyes. She knew from the 
 first she knew! 
 
 " Thank you very much, and good night," Mr. 
 Foley said, as he replaced the receiver. 
 
 Then he turned quickly to Elisabeth and caught 
 her hand. 
 
 " They say that Maraton's speech was wonderful," 
 he announced. " He declared war, but a man's war. 
 Cotton first, and cotton alone." 
 
 She gave a little sobbing breath. Her hands were 
 locked together. 
 
 " England will never know," Mr. Foley added, in 
 a voice still trembling with emotion, " what she has 
 escaped 1 "
 
 CHAPTER XVIU 
 
 Those wonderful few days at Manchester had 
 passed, and oppressed by the inevitable reaction, 
 Julia was back at work in the clothing factory. 
 
 She had given up her place by the window to an 
 anasmic-looking child of seventeen, who had a habit 
 of fainting during these long, summer afternoons. 
 Her own fingers were weary and she was conscious 
 of an increasing fatigue as the hours of toil passed 
 on. No breath of air came in from the sun-baked 
 streets through the wide-flung windows. The atmos- 
 phere of the long, low room, in which over a hundred 
 girls closely huddled together, were working, was 
 sickly with the smell of cloth. There was no con- 
 versation. The click of the machines seemed some- 
 times to her partially dulled senses like the beating 
 out of their human lives. It seemed impossible that 
 the afternoon would ever end. The interval for tea 
 came and passed tea in tin cans, with thick bread 
 and melting butter. The respite was worse almost 
 than the mechanical toil. Julia's eyes ranged over 
 the housetops, westwards. There was another world 
 of trees, flowers, and breezes; another world alto- 
 gether. She set her teeth. It was hard to have 
 no place in it. A little time ago she had been con- 
 tent, content even to suffer, because she was toiling 
 with these others whom she loved, and for whom, in
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 167 
 
 her profound pity, she poured out her life and her 
 talents. And now there was a change. Was it the 
 spell of this cruel summer, she wondered, or was it 
 something else some new desire in her incomplete 
 life, something from which for so many years she 
 had been free? She let her thoughts, momentarily^ 
 go adrift. She was back again in the cab, her fingers 
 clutching his arm, her heart thrilling with the won- 
 derful passionate splendour of those few hours. She 
 recalled his looks, his words, his little acts of kind- 
 ness. She realised in those few moments how com- 
 pletely he filled her thoughts. She began to tremble. 
 
 " Better have your place by the window back 
 again, Miss Thurnbrein," the girl at her side said 
 suddenly. " You're looking like Clara, just before 
 she popped off. My, ain't it awful ! " 
 
 Julia came back to herself and refused the child's 
 offer. 
 
 " I shall be all right directly," she declared. 
 " This weather can't last much longer." 
 
 " If only the storm would come ! " the child mut- 
 tered, as she turned back to her work. 
 
 If only the storm would come! Julia seemed to 
 take these words with her as she passed at last into 
 the streets, at the stroke of the hour. It was like 
 that with her, too. There was something inside, 
 something around her heart, which was robbing her 
 of her rest, haunting her through the long, lonely 
 nights, torturing her through these miserable days. 
 Soon she would have to turn and face it. She shiv- 
 ered with fear at the thought. 
 
 In the street a man accosted her. She looked up
 
 168 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 with an almost guilty start. A little cry broke from 
 her lips. It was one of disappointment, and Gravel- 
 ing's unpleasant lips were twisted into a sneer as he 
 raised his cap. 
 
 " Thought it was some one else, eh? " he remarked. 
 " Well, it isn't, you see ; it's me. There's no one 
 else with a mind to come down here this baking after- 
 noon to fetch you." 
 
 " I thought it might be Aaron," she faltered. 
 
 " Never mind whom you thought it might have 
 Jbeen," he answered gruffly. " Aaron's busy, I expect, 
 typing letters to all the lords and ladies your Mr. 
 Maraton hobnobs with. I'm here, and I want to 
 talk with you." 
 
 " I am too tired," she pleaded. " I am going 
 straight home to lie down." 
 
 " I'd thought of that," he answered stubbornly. 
 " I've got a taxicab waiting at the corner. Not 
 often I treat myself to anything of that sort. I'm 
 going to take you up to one of those parks in the 
 West End we've paid so much for and see so little 
 of, and when I get you there I'm going to talk to 
 you. You can rest on the way up. There's a breeze 
 blowing when you get out of these infernally hot 
 streets." 
 
 She was only too glad to sink back amongst the 
 hard, shiny leather cushions of the taxicab, and half 
 close her eyes. The first taste of the breeze, as they 
 neared Westminster Bridge, was almost ecstatic. 
 Graveling had lit a pipe, and smoked by her side in 
 silence. 
 
 " We are coming out of our bit of the earth now,
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 169 
 
 to theirs," he remarked presently, as they reached 
 Piccadilly, brilliant with muslin-clad women and 
 flower-hung windows. " It isn't often I dare trust 
 myself up here. Makes me feel as though I'd like to 
 go amongst those sauntering swells and mincing 
 ladies in their muslins and laces, and parasols, and 
 run amuck amongst them send them down like a 
 pack of ninepins. Aye, I'd send them into hell if 
 I could!" 
 
 She was still silent. She felt that she needed all 
 her strength. They drove on to the Achilles statue, 
 where he dismissed the taxicab. The man stared at 
 the coin which he was offered, and looked at the 
 register. 
 
 " 'Ere ! " he exclaimed. " You're a nice *un, you 
 
 are: 
 
 t > 
 
 Graveling turned upon him almost fiercely. 
 
 " If you want a tip," he said, " go and drive some 
 of these fine ladies and gentlemen about, who've got 
 the money to give. I'm a working man, and luxuries 
 aren't for me. Be off with you, or I'll call a police- 
 man!" 
 
 He shouldered his way across the pavement, and 
 Julia followed him. Soon they found a seat in the 
 shade of the trees. She leaned back with a little sigh 
 of content. 
 
 " Five minutes ! " she begged. " Just five mi- 
 nutes ! " 
 
 He glanced at his watch, relit his pipe, and relapsed 
 once more into sombre silence. Julia's thoughts 
 went flitting away. She closed her eyes and leaned 
 back. She had only one fear now. Would he find
 
 170 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 out! He was thick enough, in his way, but he was 
 no fool, and he was already coarsely jealous. 
 
 " Ten minutes you've had," he announced at last. 
 " Look here, Julia, I've brought you out to ask you 
 a plain question. Are you going to marry me or are 
 you not? " 
 
 " I am not," she answered steadily. 
 
 He had been so certain of her reply that his face 
 betrayed no disappointment. Only he turned a little 
 in his chair so that he could watch her face. She 
 was conscious of the cruelty of his action. 
 
 " Then I want to know what you are going to do," 
 he continued. " You are thin and white and worn 
 out. You're fit for something better than a tailoress 
 and you know it. And you're killing yourself at it. 
 You're losing your health, and with your health 
 you're losing your power of doing any work worth 
 a snap of the fingers." 
 
 " It isn't so bad, except this very hot weather," 
 she protested. " Then I'm secretary to the Guild, 
 you know. I can do my work so much better when 
 I'm really one of themselves. Besides, they always 
 listen to me at the meetings, because I come straight 
 from the benches." 
 
 " You've done your whack," he declared. " No 
 need to go on any longer, and you know it. I can 
 make a little home for you right up in Hampstead, 
 and you can go on with your writing and lecturing 
 and give up this slavery. You know you were think- 
 ing of it a short time back. You've no one to con- 
 sider but yourself. You're half promised to me and 
 I want you."
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 171 
 
 " I am sorry, Richard," she said, " if I have ever 
 misled you, but I hope that from now onward, at any; 
 rate, there need be no shadow of misunderstanding. 
 I do not intend to marry. My work is the greatest 
 thing in life to me, and I can continue it better 
 unmarried.'* 
 
 " It's the first time you've talked like this," he 
 persisted. " Amy Chatterton, Rachael Weiss, and 
 most of 'em are married. They stick at it all right, 
 don't they? What's the matter with your doing the 
 same ? " 
 
 " Different people have different ideas," she pro- 
 nounced. " Please be my friend, Richard, and do 
 not worry me about this. You can easily find some 
 one else. There are any number of girls, I'm sure, 
 who'd be proud to be your wife. As for me, it is im- 
 possible." 
 
 " And why is it impossible ? " he demanded, in a 
 portentous tone. 
 
 " Because I do not care for you in that way," she 
 answered, " and because I have no desire to marry; 
 at all." 
 
 He smoked sullenly at his pipe for several mo- 
 ments. All the time his eyes were filled with smoul- 
 dering malevolence. 
 
 " Now I am going to begin to talk," he said. 
 " Don't look as though you were going to run away, 
 because you're not. I am going to talk to you 
 about that fellow Maraton." 
 
 " Why do you mention his name ? " she asked, 
 stiffening. " What has he to do with it? " 
 
 " A good deal, to my thinking," was the grim
 
 172 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 reply. " It's my belief that you've a fancy for him, 
 and that's Why you've turned against me." 
 
 " You've no right to say anything of the sort ! " 
 she exclaimed. 
 
 " And, by God, why haven't I? " he insisted, strik- 
 ing his knee with his clenched fist. " Haven't you 
 been my girl for six years before he came? You 
 were kind of shy, but you'd have been mine in the 
 end, and you know it. Waiting was all I had to do, 
 and I was content to wait. And now he's come along, 
 and I know very well that I haven't a dog's chance. 
 You're a working lass, Julia, fit mate for a working 
 man. Do you think he's one of our sort ? Not he ! 
 Do you think he's for marrying a girl who works 
 for her bread? If you do, you're a bigger fool than 
 I think you. He's forever nosing around amongst 
 these swell ladies and gentlemen with handles to their 
 names, ladies and gentlemen who live on the other 
 side of the earth to us. He can talk like a prophet, 
 I grant you, but that's all there is of the prophet 
 about him. People's man, indeed! He'll be the 
 people's man so long as it pays him and not a second 
 longer." 
 
 " Have you finished? " she asked quietly. 
 
 " No, nor never shall have finished," he continued, 
 raising his voice, ** while he's playing the rotten game 
 he's at now, and you're mooning around after him as 
 though he were a god. I'll never stop speaking until 
 I've knocked the bottom out of that, Julia. You 
 never used to think anything of fine clothes and all 
 these gentlemen's tricks. It's all come of a sudden." 
 
 " Have you finished ? " she asked again.
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 173 
 
 " Never in this life ! " he replied fiercely. " I tell 
 you he shan't have you, and you shan't have him. 
 I'm there between, and I'm not to be got rid of. I'll 
 take one of you or both of you by the throat and 
 strangle the life out of you, before I quit. It isn't," 
 he went on, his face once more disfigured by that 
 ample sneer, " it isn't that I'm afraid of his wanting 
 to marry you. He won't do that. But he's one of 
 those who are fond of messing about philanderer's 
 the word. If he tries it on with you, he'll find hell 
 before his time ! Sit down ! " 
 
 She had risen to her feet. He clutched at her 
 skirt. The sense of his touch she was peculiarly 
 sensitive to touch gave her the strength she needed. 
 She snatched it away. 
 
 " Now," she declared, " you have had your say. 
 This is what you get for it. You have offended me. 
 Our friendship is forgotten. The less I see of you, 
 the more content I shall be. And as to what I do 
 or what becomes of me, it isn't your business. I 
 shall do with myself exactly as I choose exactly 
 as I choose, Richard Graveling! You hear that?" 
 she reiterated, with blazing eyes and tone cruelly 
 deliberate. " I haven't much in the world, but my 
 body and my soul are my own. I shall give them 
 where I choose, and on what terms I please. If you 
 try to follow me, you'll put me to the expense of a 
 cab home. That's all ! " 
 
 She walked away with firm footsteps. She felt 
 stronger, more of a woman than she had done all 
 day. Graveling made no attempt to follow her. He 
 sat and smoked in stolid silence.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 Julia was conscious of a new vitality as she left 
 the Park. She was her own mistress now; her half 
 tie to Graveling was permanently broken. So much 
 the better! The man's personality had always been 
 distasteful to her. She had suffered him only as 
 a fellow worker. His overtures in other directions 
 had kept her in a continual state of embarrassment, 
 but in her ignorance as to her own feelings, she had 
 hesitated to speak out. She put sedulously behind 
 her the question of what had brought this new 
 enlightenment. 
 
 She took the Tube to the British Museum and went 
 round to see Aaron. The house was busier than she 
 had ever seen it before ; taxicabs were coming and 
 going, and four or five people sat in the waiting- 
 room. Aaron looked up and waved his hand as she 
 entered. He was alone in the study where he worked. 
 
 " Come in," he cried eagerly. " Sit down. It's a 
 joy to see you, Julia, but I daren't stop working. 
 I've forty or fifty letters to type before he comes 
 in, and he'll be off again in half-an-hour." 
 
 She sank into an easy chair. The atmosphere of 
 the cool room, with its opened windows and drawn 
 Venetian blinds, was most restful. 
 
 " Is everything going well, Aaron? " she asked him.
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 175 
 
 He nodded. 
 
 " Better than well. There's a telegram just in 
 from Manchester. We are bound to win there. Did 
 you read Foley's speech? " 
 
 "Yes. Did he mean it all, do you think?" she 
 asked doubtfully. 
 
 " Every word,'* he replied confidently. " We've 
 got it here in black and white. There has been a 
 commission appointed. Members of the Govern- 
 ment, if you please nothing less. The masters 
 have got an ultimatum. If they refuse, Mr. Foley 
 has asked Maraton to frame a bill. We've got the 
 sketch of it here already. What do you think of 
 that, Julia?" 
 
 " I only wish that I knew," she murmured. 
 " What can have happened to Mr. Foley? " 
 
 " They all do as Maraton bids them ! " Aaron ex- 
 claimed triumphantly. " If only I had four hands ! 
 I can't finish, Julia. It's impossible." 
 
 She sprang up and tore off her gloves. 
 
 " Let me help," she cried eagerly. " You have 
 another typewriter in the corner there. I can work 
 it, and you know I could always read your short- 
 hand." * 
 
 He accepted her help a little grudgingly. 
 
 " You must be careful, then," he enjoined, with 
 the air of one who confers a favour. " There must 
 be no mistakes. Begin here and do those letters. 
 One carbon copy of each. I'll lift the machine on 
 to the table for you." 
 
 She propped up the book and very soon there was 
 silence in the room, except for the click of the
 
 176 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 two typewriters. Presently she stopped short and 
 uttered a little cry. 
 
 "What is it?" he demanded, without looking up 
 from his work. 
 
 '* This letter to the Secretary of the Unionist 
 Association, Nottingham ! " 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Mr. Maraton is to go there Thursday, to address 
 a meeting, a Unionist meeting." 
 
 Aaron glowered at her from over his typewriter. 
 
 "Why not? It's Mr. Foley's idea. He wants 
 Mr. Maraton in Parliament. Why not ? " 
 
 " But as a Unionist ! " she gasped. " Nottingham 
 isn't a Labour constituency at all." 
 
 "He is coming in as a Unionist, so as to have a 
 free hand. We don't want any interference from 
 Peter Dale and that lot." 
 
 She looked at him aghast. Peter Dale and his 
 colleagues had been gods a few weeks ago! 
 
 " Can't you see," Aaron continued irritably, " that 
 the coming of Maraton has changed many things? 
 A man like that can't serve under anybody, and no 
 man could come as a stranger and lead the Labour 
 Party. He has to be outside. This is a working 
 man's constituency. He is pledged to fight Capital, 
 fight it tooth and nail." 
 
 " I suppose it's all right," Julia said. " It seems 
 different, somehow, from what we had expected, and 
 he never goes to the Clarion at all." 
 
 " Why should he ? " Aaron demanded. " They are 
 all jealous of him, every one of 'em; Peter Dale is
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 177 
 
 the worst of the lot. Didn't you hear how they 
 talked to him at Manchester ? " 
 
 She nodded, and for a time they went on with 
 their work. She found herself, however, continually 
 returning to the subject of those vital differences; 
 the Maraton as they had dreamed of him the 
 prophet with the flaming sword, and this wonderfully 
 civilised person. 
 
 " Tell me honestly, Aaron," she asked presently, 
 "what do you think of it all? of him of his 
 methods? You are with him all the time. Haven't 
 you ever any doubts ? " 
 
 She watched him closely. She would have been 
 conscious of the slightest tremor in his reply, the 
 slightest hesitation. There was nothing of the sort. 
 He was merely tolerant of her ignorance. 
 
 " No one who knows Maraton," he pronounced, 
 " could fail to trust him." 
 
 After that she asked no more questions. They 
 worked steadily for another half hour or so. Mes- 
 sages were sometimes brought in to Aaron, which 
 he summarily disposed of. Julia wondered at the 
 new facility, the heart-whole eagerness which he 
 devoted to every trifling matter. Then, just as she 
 was halfway through copying out a pile of figures, 
 Maraton came in. He stood and watched them in 
 the doorway, half amused, half surprised. For a 
 moment she kept her head down. Then she looked 
 up slowly. 
 
 " Since when," he asked, " have I been the proud 
 possessor of two secretaries ? " 
 
 " You left me letters enough for four, sir," Aaron
 
 178 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 reminded him. " I wanted to finish them all, so Julia 
 stayed to help me." 
 
 Maraton came smiling towards them. 
 
 " Why, I am afraid I forgot," he said. " In 
 America I used sometimes to have four typists work- 
 ing. You can't possibly get out all those details by 
 yourself, Aaron." 
 
 " We shall have finished this lot, anyhow, in an 
 hour." 
 
 " You must get permanent help," Maraton insisted. 
 " Leave off now, both of you. I want to talk to 
 your sister. Do you know," he went on, turning 
 towards her, " that I have scarcely seen anything of 
 you since Manchester ? " 
 
 " My work keeps me rather a prisoner," she ex- 
 plained, " and after these hot days one hasn't much 
 energy left." 
 
 " You are still working at the tailoring? " 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 " I like to be in the midst of it all, but this weather 
 I am almost afraid I shan't be able to go on. The 
 atmosphere is hateful. It seems to draw all the life 
 out of one." 
 
 He glanced over her shoulder at the work she had 
 been doing. 
 
 " Why not come to me? " he suggested suddenly. 
 " Aaron needs help. He can't possibly do every- 
 thing for himself. I have a thirst for information, 
 you know. I want statistics on every possible sub- 
 ject. There are seven or eight big corporations now, 
 whose wages bill I want to compare with the interest 
 they pay on capital. Aaron doesn't have time even
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 179 
 
 to answer the necessary letters. I am in disgrace 
 all round. Do come.". 
 
 She was sitting quite still, looking at him. It 
 would have been impossible for any one to have 
 guessed that his words were like music to her. 
 
 " But there is my trade," she objected. " After 
 all, I am useful there. I keep in touch, with the 
 girls." 
 
 " You have finished with that," he argued. " You 
 have done your work there. They all know who 
 you are and what you are. You have lots of infor- 
 mation which would be useful to me. Aaron must 
 have some one to help him. Why not you? As for 
 the rest, I can afford to pay two secretaries you 
 needn't be afraid of that." 
 
 " I never thought of it," she assured him. " I 
 shouldn't want very much money." 
 
 " Leave that to me," he begged, " only accept. 
 Is it a promise? Come, make it a promise and we 
 will have an evening off. All day long I seem to 
 have been moving in a strained atmosphere, talking 
 to men who are only half in sympathy with me, 
 talking to men who are civil because they have brains 
 enough to see the truth. I want an hour or two 
 of rest. Aaron shall telephone to Gardner. I was 
 to have dined with him at his club, but it is of no 
 importance. He was dining there, anyhow, and the 
 other places I was going to this evening don't count. 
 Telephone 1718 Westminster, Aaron, and say that 
 Mr. Maraton is unable to keep his dinner engagement 
 with Mr. Gardner and begs to be excused. Then 
 we'll all go out together. What do you say? I
 
 i8o A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 have found something almost like a roof garden. 
 I'll tell you all about New York." 
 
 Her face for a moment sh6ne. Then she looked 
 down at her gown. He laughed. 
 
 " You have done your day's work and I've done 
 mine," he remarked. " I dare say of the two, yours 
 is the more worthy. We'll go just as we are. Get 
 rid of those people who are waiting, Aaron. I had 
 a look at them. They are all the usual class 
 cadgers." 
 
 " There is one gentleman whom you must see," 
 Aaron declared. " I didn't put him in the waiting- 
 room a Mr. Beldeman. He came to see you in 
 Manchester." 
 
 " Beldeman ! " 
 
 Maraton repeated the name. Then he smiled. 
 
 "A very sensational gentleman," he observed. 
 " Came to offer me but never mind, I told you 
 about that. Yes, you're right, Aaron. He is always 
 interesting. Take your sister away for a few 
 minutes. You can be getting ready. When I've 
 finished with Mr. Beldeman, we'll start out. I shan't 
 change a thing." 
 
 Mr. Beldeman entered the room, carrying his hat 
 in his hand, unruffled by his long wait, to all appear- 
 ance wearing the same clothes, the same smile, as 
 on his visit to the hotel in Manchester. Maraton 
 greeted him good-humouredly. 
 
 " Well, Mr. Beldeman," he began, " you see, I 
 have made things all right for your syndicate of 
 manufacturers, although I couldn't accept your offer. 
 Sit down. You won't keep me long, will you? I
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 181 
 
 have to go out. Perhaps you are going to give me 
 a little for my Lancashire operatives. They can 
 do with it. Strike pay over here is none too liberal, 
 you know." 
 
 Mr. Beldeman laid down his hat. He blinked for 
 a moment behind his gold spectacles. 
 
 " The Lancashire strike," he said softly, " is of 
 very little service to my principals. As you know, 
 it is more than that for which we were hoping." 
 
 Maraton nodded but made no remark. 
 
 " My principals," Mr. Beldeman continued, " have 
 watched your career, Mr. Maraton, for some 
 time. They have studied eagerly your speeches and 
 your writings, and when you arrived on this side they 
 expected something more from you. They expected, 
 in fact, the enunciation of a certain doctrine which 
 you have already propounded with singular eloquence 
 in other parts of the world. They expected to find 
 it the text of your first words to Labour in this coun- 
 try. I refer, of course, to the universal strike." 
 
 " It was my great theory," Maraton admitted, 
 suddenly grave. " I will not say even now that I 
 have abandoned it. It is in abeyance." 
 
 " My principals," Mr. Beldeman remarked slowly, 
 " would like it to take place." 
 
 Maraton smiled. 
 
 " Your principals, I presume," he said, " do not 
 imagine that I am on the earth to gratify them, even 
 though they did offer me let me see, how much 
 was it a million pounds ? " 
 
 " This time," Mr. Beldeman went on, " it is not 
 a question of money."
 
 i82 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 " Not a question of money," Maraton repeated. 
 " You don't want to buy me ? What do you want 
 to do, then?" 
 
 " We threaten," Mr. Beldeman pronounced calmly. 
 
 Maraton for a moment seemed puzzled. 
 
 " Threaten," he murmured thoughtfully. " Come, 
 do I understand you properly? Is it assassination, 
 or anything of that sort, you're talking about? " 
 
 Beldeman shook his head. 
 
 " Those are methods for extreme cases," he said. 
 " Yours is not an extreme case. We do not threaten 
 you, Mr. Maraton, with death, but we do threaten 
 you with the death of your reputation, the end of 
 your career as a political power in this country, if 
 you do not see your way clear to apt as we desire." 
 
 Maraton stood, for a few seconds, perfectly still. 
 
 " You have courage, Mr. Beldeman," he remarked. 
 
 " Sir," Mr. Beldeman replied, " I have been as 
 near death as most men. That is why I occupy my 
 present position. I am the special agent of the 
 greatest political power in the world. When I 
 choose to make use of my machinery, I can kill or 
 spare, abduct, rob, ruin what I choose. You I 
 only threaten. I fancy that will be enough. We 
 have our hold upon the press of this country." 
 
 Maraton walked to the door and back again. 
 
 " I killed a man once, Mr. Beldeman," he said, 
 " who threatened me." 
 
 " You will not kill me," Mr. Beldeman declared, 
 with gentle confidence in his tone. 
 
 " If I had known," Maraton continued softly, 
 " I'd have wrung your neck at Manchester."
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 183 
 
 " Quite easy, I should say," Mr. Beldeman agreed. 
 " You look strong. Without a doubt I could make 
 you desperate. Better be reasonable. My people 
 want the railway strike, the coal strike, and the iron 
 strike want them both within a month. Come, 
 what are you afraid of? Stick to your colours, Mr. 
 Maraton. Wasn't it in the North American Review 
 you declared that a war and conquest were the 
 inevitable prelude of social reform in this coun- 
 try? " 
 
 "Did I say that?" Maraton asked. 
 
 " You did. Now you are here, you are afraid. 
 Never mind, war and conquest are to come. We give 
 you a month in which to deliver your message. You 
 have, I believe, two large meetings to address before 
 that date. Make your pronouncement and all will 
 be welt. The million is yours for the people." 
 
 " A sort of gigantic blackmail," Maraton remarked 
 drily. 
 
 " You can call it what you like. If you have con- 
 ditions to make, I am prepared to listen. I do not 
 insult you by offering " 
 
 Maraton flung open the door a little noisily. 
 
 "That will do, Mr. Beldeman," he said. "I 
 congratulate you upon the manner in which you 
 have conducted this interview. I presume I shall 
 see you again one day before the month is up ? " 
 
 " You certainly will," Mr. Beldeman replied. " If 
 you should want me before an advance pay- 
 ment or anything of that sort I am at the Royal 
 Hotel." 
 
 Maraton was alone in the room. For some mo-
 
 184 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 ments he remained motionless. He heard Aaron and 
 Julia in the hall but he did not hasten to join them. 
 He moved instead to the window and stood watching 
 Beldeman's retreating form.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 Maraton led the way on to the roof of one of Lon- 
 don's newer hotels. 
 
 " They won't give us dinner here," he explained. 
 " London isn't civilised enough for that yet, or per- 
 haps it's a matter of climate. But we can get all 
 sorts of things to eat, and some wine, and sit and 
 watch the lights come out. I was here the other 
 night alone and I thought it the most restful spot 
 in London." 
 
 He called a waiter and had a table drawn up to 
 the palisaded edge of the roof. Then he slipped 
 something into the man's hand, and there seemed 
 to be no difficulty about serving them with anything 
 they required. 
 
 " A salad, some sandwiches, a bottle of hock and 
 plenty of strawberries. We shan't starve, at any 
 rate," Maraton declared. " Lean back in your chairs, 
 you children of the city, lean down and look at your 
 mother. Look at her smoke-hung arms, stretched 
 out as though to gather in the universe; and the 
 lights upon her bosom see how they come twinkling 
 into existence." 
 
 Both of them followed his outstretched finger with 
 their eyes, but Julia only shivered. 
 
 " I hate it," she muttered, " hate it all ! London 
 seems to me like a great, rapacious monster. Our
 
 i8fi A PEOPLE'S MAM 
 
 bodies and souls are sacrificed over there. For what ? 
 I was in Piccadilly and the parks to-day. Is there 
 any justice in the world, I wonder? It's just as 
 though there were a kink in the great wheels and 
 they weren't running true." 
 
 " Sometimes I think," Maraton declared, " that 
 the matter would right itself automatically but for 
 the interference of weak people. The laws of life 
 are tampered with so often by people without under- 
 standing. They keep alive the unworthy. They try 
 to make life easier for the unfit. They endow hos- 
 pitals and build model dwellings. It's a sop to their 
 consciences. It's like planting a flower on the grave 
 of the man you have murdered." 
 
 " But these things help," Aaron protested. 
 
 "Help? They retard," Maraton insisted. "All 
 charity is the most vicious form of self-indulgence. 
 Can't you see that if the poor died in the streets, 
 and the sick were left to crawl about the face of the 
 earth, the whole business would right itself auto- 
 matically. The unfit would die out. A stronger 
 generation would arise, a generation stronger and 
 better able to look after itself. But come, we have 
 been serious long enough. You are tired with your 
 day's work, Miss Julia, and Aaron, too. I've been 
 in the committee room of the House of Commons half 
 the day, and my head's addled with figures. Here 
 comes our supper. Let us drop the more serious 
 things of life. We'll try and put a little colour into 
 your cheeks, young lady." 
 
 He served them both and filled their glasses with 
 wine. Then, as he ate, he leaned back in his chair
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 187 
 
 and watched them. For all her strange beauty, 
 Julia, too, was one of the suffering children of the 
 world. The lines of her figure, which should have 
 been so subtle and fascinating, were sharpened by an 
 unnatural thinness. Aaron's cheeks were almost like 
 a consumptive's, his ph} r sique was puny. There was 
 something in their expression common to both. 
 Maraton was conscious of a wave of pity as he with- 
 drew his eyes. 
 
 " Sometimes," he said, " I feel almost angry with 
 you two. You carry on your shoulders the burden 
 of other people's sufferings. It is well to feel and 
 realise them, and the gift of sympathy is a beautiful 
 thing, but our own individualism is also a sacred gift. 
 It is not for us to weaken or destroy it by encourag- 
 ing a superabundant sympathy for others. We 
 each have our place in the world, whether we owe 
 it to fate or our own efforts, and it is our duty to 
 make the best of it. Our own happiness, indeed, is 
 a present charge upon ourselves for the ultimate 
 benefit of others. A happy person in the world does 
 good always. You two have a leaning towards mor- 
 bidness. If I had time, I would undertake your edu- 
 cation. As it is, we will have another bottle of wine, 
 and I shall take you to a music hall." 
 
 It was an evening that lived in Julia's mind with 
 particular vividness for years to come, and yet one 
 which she always found it difficult to piece together 
 in her thoughts. They went to one of the less fash- 
 ionable music halls, where the turns were frequent 
 and there was no ballet. Aaron was very soon able 
 to re-establish his temporarily lost capacity for en-
 
 i88 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 joyment. Maraton, leaning back in his place with a 
 cigar in his mouth, appreciated everything and ap- 
 plauded constantly. It was Julia who found the 
 new atmosphere most difficult. She laughed often, 
 it is true, but she had always a semi-subjective feel- 
 ing, as though it were some other person who was 
 really there, and she the instrument chosen to give 
 physical indication of that other person's presence. 
 Only once life seemed suddenly to thrill and burn in 
 her veins, to shoot through her body with startling 
 significance, and in that brief space of time, life itself 
 was transformed for her. Maraton by chance found 
 her hand, as they sat side by side, and held it for a 
 moment in his. There was nothing secret about his 
 action. The firm pressure of his fingers, even, 
 seemed as though they might have been the kindly, 
 encouraging touch of a sympathetic friend. But 
 upon Julia his touch was magical. The rest of the 
 evening faded into insignificance. She understood 
 feelings which had come to her that afternoon in the 
 park with absolute completeness for the first time. 
 From that moment she took her place definitely 
 amongst the women who walk through life but whose 
 feet seldom touch the earth. 
 
 When the performance was over, Maraton called 
 a taxicab. 
 
 " Aaron," he directed, " you must take your sister 
 back to her lodgings. No, I insist," he added, as 
 she protested. " No 'buses to-night. Go home and 
 sleep well and think about yourself." 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 " I will go home in a taxi," she agreed, " if you
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 189 
 
 do one thing for me. It won't take long. It 
 has been in my mind ever since you said what you 
 did about charity. I want us all to go down to the 
 Embankment. It isn't late enough really, but I want 
 you to come." 
 
 He sighed. 
 
 " You are incorrigible," he declared. " Never 
 mind, we will go. How good the air is ! We'll walk." 
 
 They turned along the Strand and descended the 
 narrow street which led to the Embankment. Then 
 they walked slowly as far as Blackfriars Bridge. 
 They neither of them spoke a word. From time to 
 time they glanced at the silent and motionless figures 
 on the seats. For the most part, the loiterers there 
 were either asleep or sitting with closed eyes. Here 
 and there they caught a glance from some spectral 
 face, a glance cold and listless. The fires of life were 
 dead amongst these people. The animal desires alone 
 remained; their faces were dumb. 
 
 They stood together at the corner of Blackfriars 
 Bridge. 
 
 " Well," Maraton said, " I have done your bid- 
 ding. I have been here before many times, and I 
 have been here in the winter." 
 
 " Tell me," she asked, " there is a girl there on 
 that third seat, crying. Am I doing wrong if I go 
 to her and give her money for a night's lodging? " 
 
 " Without a doubt," he answered. " And yet, I 
 expect you'll do it. Principles are splendid in 
 the abnegation. If we are to be illogical, let me 
 be the breaker of my own laws." 
 
 He thrust some money into her hand and Julia
 
 igo A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 disappeared. For some time she remained talking 
 with the figure upon the seat. Aaron and Maraton 
 leaned over the corner of the bridge and looked down 
 the curving arc of lights towards the Houses of Par- 
 liament. 
 
 " I shall end there, you know, Aaron," Maraton 
 sighed. " I am not looking forward to it. It's a 
 queer sort of a hothouse for a man." 
 
 " I wonder," Aaron murmured thoughtfully. " I 
 used to think of you travelling from one to the other 
 of the great cities, and I used to think that when you 
 had spoken to them, the people would see the truth 
 and rise and take their own. I used to be very fond 
 of the Old Testament once," he went on, his voice 
 sinking a little lower. " Life was so simple in those 
 days, and the words of a prophet seemed greater than 
 any laws." 
 
 " And nowadays," Maraton continued, " life has 
 become like a huge and complex piece of machinery. 
 Humanity has given way to mechanics. Aaron, I 
 don't believe I can help this people by any other way 
 save by laws." 
 
 They both turned quickly around. Julia was 
 standing by their side, and with her the girl. 
 
 " I told her," Julia explained, " that it was not 
 my money I was offering, but the money of a gen- 
 tleman who was the greatest friend the poor people 
 of the world have ever known. She wanted to speak 
 to you." 
 
 The girl drew her shawl a little closer around her 
 shoulders. Her face bore upon it the terrible stamp 
 of suffering, without its redeeming purification.
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 191 
 
 Save for her abundant hair, her very sex would have 
 been unrecognisable. She looked steadily at Mara- 
 ton. 
 
 '* You sent me money," she said. 
 
 " I did," he admitted. 
 
 " Are you one of those soft-hearted fools who go 
 about doing this sort of thing? " she demanded. 
 
 " I am not," he replied. " I object to giving 
 money away. I am sorry to see people suffering, but 
 as a rule I think that it is their own fault if they 
 come to the straits that you are in. I sent the 
 money to please this young lady." 
 
 " Their own fault, eh ? " she muttered. 
 
 " I qualify that," he added quickly. " Their own 
 fault because they submit to a heritage of unjust 
 laws. It is your own fault because you don't join 
 together and smash the laws. You would fill the 
 jails, perhaps, but you'd make it easier for those who 
 came after." 
 
 She stood quite silent for a moment. When she 
 spoke, the truculent note had departed from her tone. 
 
 " I came here," she said, " meaning to chuck this 
 money in your face. I thought you were one of 
 these canting hypocrites who salve their consciences 
 by giving away what they don't want. My baby 
 died this morning in the hospital, and they turned 
 me out. If I keep your money, do you know what 
 I shall do with it? Get drunk." 
 
 He nodded. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 She looked at him stolidly. 
 
 "When I've spent it, I shall go into the river.
 
 I 9 2 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 I'm not fit for anything else. I'm too weak to work, 
 and for the rest, look at me. I'm as ugly as sin 
 itself just a few bones held together." 
 
 " Take the money and get drunk," Maraton ad- 
 vised. " You're quite right. There's no help for 
 you. You've no spirit to help yourself. If you 
 hang on to the crust of the world through charity, 
 you only do the world harm. You're better out of 
 it." 
 
 She gathered up the money and shivered a little. 
 
 " I'll drink yer health," she muttered, as she 
 turned away. 
 
 Julia half started to follow her, but Maraton held 
 her arm. 
 
 " Useless," he whispered. " She's one of the 
 broken creatures of the world. Whilst you keep her 
 alive, you spread corruption. She'll probably hang 
 on to life until it gives her up." 
 
 He called a taxi. 
 
 " Now I am going to have my own way," he an- 
 nounced. " Aaron is going to take you home. I 
 came here because you wished it, but it's very ama- 
 teurish, you know, this sort of thing. It's on a par 
 with district visiting and slumming, and all the rest 
 of it. A disease in the body sometimes brings out 
 scars. A doctor doesn't stare at the scars. He 
 treats the body for the disease. Get these places 
 out of your mind, Julia. They are only useful 
 inasmuch as they remind us of the black truth." 
 
 He took her hands. 
 
 " Remember," he added, " that you've finished with 
 the tailoring for a time. Aaron will want you to-
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 193 
 
 morrow, or as soon as you can come. We've piles 
 of work to do." 
 
 Her eyes shone at him. 
 
 " Work," she murmured, " but think of the differ- 
 ence! If it wasn't for what you've just said about 
 individualism, I think that I should be feeling cruelly- 
 selfish." 
 
 " Rubbish ! " he exclaimed. " You're secretary of 
 the Women's Guild, aren't you? You can keep that 
 up. I'll come and talk to your girls some day. Your 
 work has been too narrow down there. There are 
 some other women's industries I want you to enquire 
 into. Till to-morrow ! " 
 
 He strode vigorously away. The taxicab turned 
 eastward over Blackf riars Bridge.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 On the following morning, Maraton saw Elisabeth 
 for the first time since his return from Manchester. 
 As he rang the bell of Mr. Foley's residence in 
 Downing Street, at a few minutes before the hour 
 at which he had been bidden to luncheon, he found 
 himself wondering with a leaven of resentment in his 
 feelings why he had so persistently avoided the house 
 during the last three weeks. All his consultations 
 with Mr. Foley, and they had been many, had taken 
 place at the House of Commons. He had refused 
 endless invitations of a social character, and even 
 when Mr. Foley had told him in plain words that his 
 niece was anxious to see him, Maraton had postponed 
 his call. This luncheon party, however, was inevit- 
 able. He was to meet a great lawyer who had a 
 place in the Government, and two other Cabinet Min- 
 isters. No excuse would have served his purpose. 
 
 The man who took his hat and coat had evidently 
 received special instructions. 
 
 " Mr. Foley is engaged with his secretary, sir," he 
 said. " A messenger has just arrived from abroad. 
 Will you come this way ? " 
 
 He was taken to Elisabeth's little room. She was 
 there waiting for him. Directly she rose, he knew 
 why he had kept away. 
 
 " Are you not a little ashamed of yourself, Mr.
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 195 
 
 Maraton ? " she asked, as the door was closed behind 
 the departing servant. 
 
 " On the contrary," he replied, " I am proud." 
 
 She laughed at him, naturally at first, but with a 
 note of self-consciousness following swiftly, as she 
 realised the significance of his words. 
 
 " How foolish ! Really, I know it is only a subter- 
 fuge to avoid being scolded. Sit down, won't you? 
 You will have to wait at least ten minutes for 
 luncheon." 
 
 They looked at one another. He took up a volume 
 of poems from the small table by his side and put it 
 down again. 
 
 "Well?" she asked. 
 
 " You have conquered," he declared. " You see, 
 I came down to earth." 
 
 " It isn't possible for me," she said simply, " to 
 tell you how glad I am. Don't you yourself feel that 
 you have done the right thing? " 
 
 " Since that night at Manchester," he told her, ** I 
 have scarcely stopped to think. Do you know that 
 your strongest allies were Mr. Peter Dale and his 
 men?" 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 " I disclaim my allies. If we arrived at the same 
 conclusion, we did so by differing lines of thought. 
 Let me tell you," she went on, " there were two things 
 for which I have prayed. One was that you might 
 start your fight exactly as you have done. The other 
 that you might find no official place amongst the 
 Labour Members. Of course, I can't pretend to the 
 practical experience of a real politician, but my uncle
 
 ig6 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 talks to me a great deal, and to me the truth seemed so 
 clear. It is the advanced Unionists who need you. 
 They are really the party from whom progress must 
 come, because it is the middle class which has to be 
 attacked, and it is amongst the middle classes that 
 Liberalism has its stronghold. If you once took your 
 place among the Labour Members, you would be a 
 Labour Member and nothing else. People wouldn't 
 take what you said seriously." 
 
 " I am coming into the House, if at all, as an Inde- 
 pendent Member," he announced. 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 " Mr. Foley is quite satisfied with that in fact 
 he thinks it's best. Do you know, he seems to have 
 gained a new lease of life during the last few weeks. 
 What do you think of his commission on your Man- 
 chester strike? " 
 
 " He kept his word," Maraton admitted. " I ex- 
 pected no less." 
 
 " I can tell you this," she went on, " because I 
 know that he will tell you himself after luncheon. 
 The masters met here this morning. They are simply 
 furious with my uncle, but they have had to give in. 
 The bill you drafted would have been rushed through 
 Parliament without a moment's delay, if they had not. 
 Mr. Foley showed them your draft. They have given 
 in on every point." 
 
 *' I am afraid I'm going to keep your uncle rather 
 busy," Maraton remarked. " Very soon after this 
 is settled, I have promised to speak at Sheffield." 
 
 " In a way it is terrible," she said, with a sigh, 
 " and yet it is so much better than the things we
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 197 
 
 feared. Tell me about yourself a little, won't you? 
 How have you been spending your time? You have 
 a large, gloomy house here, they tell me, shrouded with 
 mystery. Have you any amusements or have you 
 been working all the time ? " 
 
 " Half my days have been spent with your uncle," 
 he reminded her. " The other half at home, working. 
 So many of my facts were rusty. As to my house, 
 is it really mysterious, I wonder? It is large and 
 gloomy, at the extreme corner of an unfashionable 
 square. It suits me because I love space and quiet- 
 ness, and yet I like to be near the heart of things." 
 
 "But do you do nothing but work?" she asked. 
 " Have you no hobbies ? " 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 " I seem to have had no time for games. I like 
 walking, walking in the country or even walking in 
 the cities and watching the people. Only the London 
 streets are so sad. Then I am fond of reading. I'm 
 afraid I should be rather a strange figure if I were 
 to be suddenly projected into your world, Lady 
 Elisabeth." 
 
 " But I like to feel that you are in my world," she 
 said gently. " Believe me, it isn't altogether made 
 up of people who play games." 
 
 , " I read the daily papers," he remarked. "Didn't 
 I see something yesterday about Lady Elisabeth Lan- 
 don having won the scratch prize at Ranelagh at a 
 ladies' golf meeting? " 
 
 She laughed pleasantly. 
 
 " Oh ! well," she protested, " you must make al- 
 lowance for my bringing up. We begin to play
 
 ig8 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 games in this country as soon as we can crawl about 
 the nursery. It all depends upon the value you set 
 upon these things." 
 
 A servant knocked at the door and announced the 
 service of luncheon. Elisabeth rose reluctantly to 
 her feet. 
 
 " Now, I suppose, I must hand you over to the 
 serious business of life," she sighed. " If you do 
 have a minute to spare when you have finished with 
 my uncle," she added in a lower tone, as they passed 
 down the wide staircase side by side, " come up and 
 see me before you go. I shall be in till four o'clock." 
 
 The familiarity of her words, half whispered in 
 his ear, the delightful suggestion of some confidential 
 understanding between them, were alike fascinating 
 to him. In her plain white serge coat and skirt, and 
 smart hat she had just come in from walking in 
 the park she seemed to him to represent so per- 
 fectly the very best and most delightful type of 
 womanhood. Her complexion was perfect, her skin 
 fresh as a child's. She carried herself with the 
 spring and grace of one who walks through life self- 
 confidently, fortified always with the knowledge that 
 she was a favourite with women as well as with men. 
 He sat by her side at luncheon and he could not help 
 admiring the delicate tact with which she prevented 
 the conversation from ever remaining more than a 
 few seconds in channels which might have made him 
 feel something of an alien. There was another 
 nephew of Mr. Foley's there, a famous polo player 
 and sportsman; Lord Carton, whose eyes seldom left 
 Elisabeth's face; Sir William Blend, the great law-
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 199 
 
 yer; Mr. Horrill and Lord Armley. These, with 
 Elisabeth's mother and herself, made up the party. 
 
 " I think I am going to bar politics," Lady Gren- 
 side said, as she took her place. 
 
 " Impossible ! " Mr. Foley retorted, in high good 
 humour. " This is a political luncheon. We have 
 great and weighty matters to discuss. You women 
 are permitted to be present, but we allot to you the 
 hardest task of all silence." 
 
 " A sheer impossibility, so far as mother is con- 
 cerned," Elisabeth observed. " As for me, I call my- 
 self a practical politician. I intend to take part in 
 the discussion." 
 
 Mr. Foley looked across the round table with 
 twinkling eyes. 
 
 " We are going to talk about Universal Manhood 
 Suffrage," he announced. 
 
 " Scandalous," Elisabeth declared, " before we have 
 our votes ! " 
 
 " Perhaps," Maraton suggested, " it was Universal 
 Suffrage that Mr. Foley meant." 
 
 " Including children and aliens," Lady Grenside 
 remarked. "I am sure the children at the school I 
 went over yesterday could have ruled the nation ad- 
 mirably. They seemed to know positively every- 
 thing." 
 
 " Mother, you are too frivolous," Elisabeth insisted. 
 " If this tone of levity is not dropped, I shall start 
 another subject of conversation. Mr. Maraton, you, 
 of course, are in favour of Universal Manhood Suf- 
 frage?" 
 
 " I am not at all sure about it," he replied. " It
 
 200 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 gives the vote to a lot of people I'd sooner see 
 deported." 
 
 " But you you to talk like that ! " she exclaimed. 
 
 He smiled. 
 
 " Votes should belong to those who have a stake in 
 the country, not to the flotsam and jetsam," he con- 
 tinued solemnly. 
 
 " But you're a Tory ! " she cried. 
 
 " Not a bit," he answered. " If I had my way, 
 you would very soon see that one man wouldn't have 
 so much more stake in the country than another. 
 Then Universal Suffrage follows automatically in 
 fact that's the way I'd arrive at it." 
 
 " Don't ever let Mr. Maraton be Prime Minister ! " 
 Elisabeth begged. " He's too iconoclastic," 
 
 " And just now I was a Tory," Maraton pro- 
 tested. 
 
 " It isn't my fault that you are a study in con- 
 traries," she laughed. " But then politicians are 
 rather like that, aren't they? I think really that 
 they should be like surgeons, specialise all the time." 
 
 " Come down to Ranelagh and play golf after 
 luncheon," Lord Carton suggested abruptly from 
 across the table. " I've got my little racing car 
 outside and I'll take you down there like a rocket." 
 
 " Thanks," she answered, " I want particularly to 
 stay in till four o'clock this afternoon. Besides, you 
 can't play golf, you know." 
 
 " I don't think Elisabeth has improved," he re- 
 marked to her mother, turning deliberately away. 
 
 " And I am sure Jack's left his heart in Central 
 America," Elisabeth declared. " He was always
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 201 
 
 fond of dark-complexioned ladies. Mr. Maraton, 
 have you been a great traveller? " 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 " I have been in South America," he replied, " and 
 I know most of the country between San Francisco 
 and New York pretty well." 
 
 " And Europe? " she asked. 
 
 " I walked from Vienna to Paris when I was a 
 boy," he told her. " It's years, though, since I was 
 on the Continent." 
 
 Her cousin began to talk of his hunting experi- 
 ences, and every one listened. As soon as the service 
 of luncheon was concluded, Lady Grenside rose. 
 
 " I dare say we shall all meet again before you 
 go," she said. " Coffee is being served to you in 
 the library, Stephen. We won ? t say good-bye to 
 anybody. Jack, don't forget that you are dining 
 here to-night. You shall take in the blackest young 
 lady I can pick out for you." 
 
 Elisabeth followed her mother. At the last mo- 
 ment, Maraton caught a little whisper which only 
 just floated from her lips. 
 
 "Till four o'clock!" 
 
 The two younger men took their departure almost 
 immediately. The others moved into the library. 
 Mr. Foley plunged at once into the subject which 
 was uppermost in their minds. 
 
 " Mr. Maraton," he began, " we want to talk 
 about these strikes. Horrill here, and Blend, have 
 an idea that you are working towards some definite 
 result that you have more in your mind than I 
 have told them. It is only this morning," he went
 
 202 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 on in a lower tone, and glancing towards the closed 
 door, " that I explained to them your Manchester 
 speech. They know now that England has you to 
 thank for the fact that we are not at thi* moment 
 preparing for war."
 
 CHAPTER XXII 
 
 Between three and four o'clock, half a dozen peo- 
 ple, on different devices, tried to draw Elisabeth 
 from her retirement. Her particular friend called 
 to suggest a round of the picture galleries, tea at 
 the club, and a motor ride to Ranelagh. Lord Carton 
 repeated his invitation to a game of golf. Two 
 people invited her out into the country on various 
 pretexts. Her dressmaker rang up and begged for 
 her presence without delay. To all of these impor- 
 tunities Elisabeth remained deaf. She sat in her 
 room in an easy-chair drawn up to the open win- 
 dow, with a book in her hand at which she scarcely 
 glanced. Her thoughts were with the five men down- 
 stairs. Every now and then she glanced at the 
 clock. She heard the conference break up. She 
 sat quite still, listening. Presently there was the 
 sound of a firm tread upon the stairs. She closed 
 her book and breathed a little sigh. A servant 
 ushered in Maraton. 
 
 " You have not forgotten, then," she said softly. 
 " Come and sit in my favourite chair and rest for a 
 few moments. I am sure that you must be tired." 
 
 He sank down with an air of content. She sat 
 upon the end of the sofa, close to him, her head 
 resting upon her hands.
 
 204 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 " Well," she asked, " have you converted Sir 
 William?" 
 
 " Up to a certain extent, I believe," he answered, 
 after a momentary hesitation. " I don't think that 
 he trusts me. Lawyers have a habit of not trusting 
 people, you know. On the other hand, I don't think 
 he means to give any trouble. Of course, they don't 
 like what they have to face. No one does. It isn't 
 every one who has the sagacity of your uncle." 
 
 " I am glad," she said, " that you appreciate him. 
 Tell me now what is going to happen ? " 
 
 " Mr. Foley will have his own way," Maraton de- 
 clared. " The Manchester strike will be over in a 
 few days. The Sheffield strike will be dealt with in 
 the same manner. People will talk about the great 
 loss of trade, the shocking depreciation of profits, 
 the lowered incomes of the people, and all that sort 
 of thing. What will really happen will be that the 
 investor and the manufacturer are going to pay, 
 and Labour is going to get just about a tithe of 
 its own in these two cases. The country will be 
 none the poorer. The money will be still there, 
 only its distribution will be saner." 
 
 " And the end of it ? " she murmured. " What 
 will the end of it be? " 
 
 " We can none of us tell that," he answered 
 gravely. " There are some, like Sir William, who 
 insist that when Labour has once started, as it will 
 have started after Sheffield, there will be no holding 
 it. I can not answer for it. I only say that the 
 course Mr. Foley has adopted is distinctly the best 
 for the country. If an obstinate man had been in
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 205 
 
 his place to-day, nothing could have saved you from 
 civil war first and possibly from foreign conquest 
 later." 
 
 " A month ago," she observed, " you seemed fully 
 prepared for these things." 
 
 " I was," he admitted. 
 
 " But you are an Englishman, are you not ? " 
 
 " I am English. I daresay that under other con- 
 siderations I might even have called myself a 
 patriotic Englishman. As it is, I have very little 
 feeling of that sort. There has been too much self- 
 glorification, and it's the wrong class of people who've 
 revelled in it and enjoyed it. It's a fine thing to die 
 for one's country. It's a shameful thing that that 
 country should grind the life and brains and blood 
 out of a hundred of her children, day by day." 
 
 A servant brought in tea, delightfully served. 
 There were small yellow china cups, pale tea with 
 a faint, aromatic odour, thick cream, strawberries 
 and cakes. 
 
 " If only you would appreciate it," she declared, 
 " you are really rather a privileged person. No one 
 has tea with me here." 
 
 " I do appreciate it," he assured her, " perhaps 
 more than you think." 
 
 There was a moment's silence. As he was taking 
 his cup from her fingers, their eyes met, and she 
 looked away again almost immediately. 
 
 " I wish," she said, " that you would tell me more 
 about yourself what you did in America, what 
 your life has been? You are rather a mysterious 
 person, aren't you ? "
 
 206 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 " In a sense, perhaps, I must seem so," he ad- 
 mitted. " You see, I was an orphan very early. 
 There wasn't any one who cared how I grew up, 
 and I wandered a good deal. The earlier part of 
 my life I was over here I was at Heidelberg Uni- 
 versity, bye the bye and in Paris for two years 
 studying art, of all things! Then something I 
 don't know what it was called me to America, and 
 I found it hard to come back. It's a big country, 
 you know, Lady Elisabeth. It gets hold of you. 
 If it hadn't driven me out, I doubt whether I should 
 ever have left it." 
 
 " But what was it first inspired you with this 
 well, wouldn't you call it a passion for champion- 
 ing the cause of the people ? " 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 " Born in me, I suppose. I have watched them, 
 lived with them, and then I have been through the 
 whole gamut of Socialistic literature. It is not 
 worth reading, most of it. The essential facts are 
 there to look at, half-a-dozen phrases, a single field 
 of view. It's all very simple." 
 
 " Now I am going to ask you something else," 
 she went on. " That first night when we talked to- 
 gether, you seemed so full of hope, so dauntless. 
 Since then, is it my fancy since you came back 
 from Manchester are you a little disappointed 
 with life? Don't you know in your heart that 
 you've done what's best ? " 
 
 " I wish I did," he answered simply. ** My com- 
 mon sense tells me that I have chosen well, and then 
 sometimes, in the nights, or when I am alone, other
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 207 
 
 thoughts come to me, and I feel almost as though 
 I had been faithless, as though I had simply chosen 
 the easier way. Look how pleasant it is all being 
 made for me ! I am no longer an outcast ; I bask in 
 the sun of your uncle's patronage; people ask me 
 to dinner, seek my friendship, people whom I feel 
 ought to hate me. I am not sure about it all." 
 
 " Listen," she said, " if you had indeed pulled down 
 those pillars, don't you think that day by day and 
 night by night you would have been haunted by the 
 faces of those whom you had destroyed? Think of 
 the children who would have died of starvation, the 
 women who would have been torn from their hus- 
 bands, the ruined homes, the sorrow and the misery 
 all through the land. Yours would have been the 
 hand which had dealt this blow. You would not have 
 lived to have seen into the future. Would it have 
 been enough for you to have believed that you had 
 done it for the best that that unborn generation 
 of which you spoke would have benefitted? Oh, I 
 do not think so! I believe that when you realise it, 
 you must be glad." 
 
 " It is at any rate consoling to hear you say so," 
 he remarked. " Yet, when you have made up your 
 mind to play the martyr, it is a little hard," he added, 
 helping himself to strawberries, " to be treated like 
 a pampered being." 
 
 " In other words," she laughed, " you are discon- 
 tented because you have been successful ? " 
 
 " I suppose human nature never meant to let us 
 rest satisfied." 
 
 " Don't you ever think of yourself," she asked,
 
 2 o8 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 " what your own life is going to be ? You've settled 
 down now. You will be a Member of Parliament in 
 a few weeks, a Cabinet Minister before long. I know 
 what my uncle thinks of you. He believes in you. 
 To tell you the truth, so do I." 
 
 " I am glad." 
 
 " I believe," she went on, " that you will do the 
 work that you came here to do. There is no reason 
 why you should not do it from the Cabinet. But 
 there is the rest your own life. Are you never 
 going to amuse yourself, to take holiday, to draw 
 some of the outside things into your scheme of 
 being? " 
 
 He sat quite silent for a little time. He was 
 inclined to struggle against the charm of her soft 
 voice, the easy intimacy with which she treated him. 
 In a sense he felt as though he were losing control 
 of himself. 
 
 " I don't know," he said. " I think one ought to 
 find one's work sufficient for a time. It is engross- 
 ing, isn't it? And that reminds me I must go." 
 
 He rose almost abruptly to his feet. She was 
 quick to appreciate his slight confusion of thought, 
 his nervous self-impatience, and she smiled quietly. 
 She was content to let him escape. She held out 
 her hand, though, and his fingers seemed conscious 
 of the firm, delicate warmth of her clasp. 
 
 " Come and talk to me again soon," she begged. 
 " Come either as a politician or a friend, or how- 
 ever you like. It gives me so much pleasure to talk 
 with you. Uncle will tell you that every one spoils 
 me. Even Sir William comes and tells me about
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 209 
 
 his troubles with the Irish Members. Will you 
 come? " 
 
 He made a half promise. His departure was a 
 little hasty almost abrupt ; he was conscious of 
 a distinct turmoil of feeling. He hurried away, as 
 though anxious to rid himself of the influence of the 
 place. At the corner of the street he was about to 
 hail a taxicab when a man gripped him by the arm. 
 He turned quickly around. The face was somehow 
 familiar to him the grey, untidy beard, long hairy 
 eyebrows, sunken eyes, the shabby clothes. It was 
 David Ross. 
 
 " Can I speak a word with you, Mr. Maraton ? " 
 
 Maraton nodded. 
 
 " Of course. I don't remember your name. You 
 were at Manchester, weren't you, and at my house 
 with the others ? " 
 
 " Ross, my name is," the man answered. " I'd 
 no call to be at Manchester, for I'm not one of the 
 delegates. I'm not an M.P. but I've done a lot of 
 speaking for them lately, and Peter Dale, he said if 
 I paid my own expenses I could come along. I bor- 
 rowed the money. I had to come. I had to hear 
 you speak. I wanted to know your message." 
 
 " Were you satisfied with it ? " Maraton enquired. 
 
 " I don't know," was the doubtful reply. " You 
 ask me a question I can't answer myself. I thought 
 so at the time, but since then I've spent many sleep- 
 less nights and many tired hours, asking myself that 
 question. Now I am here to ask you one. Did you 
 speak that night what you had in your mind when 
 you left America? what you thought of on the
 
 210 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 steamer coming over what you meant to say when 
 first you set foot in this country ? " 
 
 Maraton was interested. He walked slowly along 
 by the side of his companion. 
 
 " I did not," he admitted. " I came with other 
 views." 
 
 " I knew it ! " Ross exclaimed, almost fiercely. " I 
 felt it, man. You came to preach redemption, even 
 though the means were sharp and short and sudden, 
 means of blood, means of death. Before you ever 
 came here, I seemed to hear your voice crying across 
 that great continent, crying even across the ocean. 
 It was a terrible cry, but it seemed as though it 
 must reach up into heaven and down into hell, for 
 it was aflame with truth. It seemed to me that I 
 could see the revolution upon us, the death that is 
 like sleep, the looking down once more from some 
 undiscovered place upon the new morning. You 
 never uttered that cry over here." 
 
 Maraton glanced at his companion curiously. 
 
 " Mine was an immense responsibility," he said. 
 " Granted that I had the power, do you think that 
 I had the right to stir up a civil war here in the 
 face of the help I was promised for our people ? " 
 
 David Ross sighed. 
 
 " I don't know," he confessed. " I only know 
 that many years ago, Peter Dale, when he was a 
 young man, spoke as though the word of truth were 
 burning in his heart. He was for a revolution. He 
 would be content with nothing less. And Borden 
 was like that, and Graveling, and others whom you 
 don't know. And then the people gave them their
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 211 
 
 mandate, knocked a bit of money together, and sent 
 them to Parliament. There, somehow or other, they 
 seemed to fall into the easier ways. They worked 
 stolidly and honestly, no doubt, but something had 
 gone, something we've all missed, something that by 
 this time might have helped. When they told me 
 it was Aaron who came and told me rode his bicycle 
 like a madman, all the way from Soho. ' Maraton 
 is come ! ' he shouted. Then it seemed to me that 
 freedom was here; no more compromises, but battle 
 the naked sword, battle with the wrongs of gener- 
 ations to requite. Is the sword sheathed? " 
 
 Maraton passed his arm through his companion's. 
 
 " It is not sheathed," he declared, " nor while I 
 have life will it be sheathed. If I have chosen the 
 quieter methods, it is because for the present I have 
 come to believe that they are the best. Six hundred 
 thousand people in Lancashire are going to start 
 life next Monday with an increase of between fifteen 
 and twenty per cent to their weekly wage. Isn't 
 that something to the good? And then, in a few 
 weeks, every forge and furnace in Sheffield will be 
 cold until the men's demands are granted there. 
 And when that is over, we go for every industry, 
 one by one, throughout the country. Before a year 
 is past, I reckon that many millions will have passed 
 from the pockets of the middle classes into the pockets 
 of the labouring man. I am going to set that stream 
 running faster and faster, and then I am going to 
 begin all over again. With prosperity, the labour- 
 ing classes will gain strength. You will have more 
 time for thought, for education, for self-knowledge.
 
 212 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 And as they gain strength, once more we raise our 
 hands. Do they seem slow to you, our methods, 
 David Ross ? Believe me, they did to me. Yet in my 
 heart I know that I have chosen the right." 
 
 The man drew a little sigh. There may have 
 been disappointment mingled with it, yet there was 
 a certain amount of relief. 
 
 " I was afraid for you, Maraton," he said. " I 
 thought of those others when they stumbled upon the 
 easy ways, and I was afraid. With you it may be 
 different. Hold on your way, then. It is not for 
 me to criticise. But if you slacken, if your hand 
 droops, then I shall come again." 
 
 He turned abruptly away and disappeared, walk- 
 ing with quick, shambling footsteps. Maraton 
 looked after him thoughtfully for several moments, 
 then he continued on his way homewards.
 
 CHAPTER XXIH 
 
 The last words had been spoken, the suspense of 
 a few hours was at an end. Maraton was on his way 
 back to London, a duly accredited Member of Parlia- 
 ment for the eastern division of Nottingham. From 
 his plaee in the railway carriage he fancied that he 
 could hear even now the roar of voices, feel the thrill 
 of emotion with which he had waited for the result. 
 An Independent Member, even when backed as Mara- 
 ton had been backed, is never in a wholly safe position. 
 On the whole, he had done well. He had increased 
 the majority of four hundred to a majority of seven 
 hundred. And this, too, in the face of unexpected 
 difficulties. At the last minute a surprise had been 
 sprung upon the constituency. A Labour candidate 
 had entered the field. Maraton's telegram to Peter 
 Dale had produced no reply. The man, if not 
 officially recognised, was at least not officially dis- 
 couraged. His intervention had been useless, how- 
 ever. Maraton had carried the working men with 
 him. In a sense it was an election on the strangest 
 issues which had ever been fought. Many of the 
 most far-seeing journalists of the day predicted in 
 this new alliance the redistribution of Parties which 
 for some time had been inevitable. So far as Mara- 
 ton was concerned, it was, without doubt, an unex- 
 pected phase in his career. He was Maraton, M.P.,
 
 2i 4 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 representative of a manufacturing town ; elected, 
 indeed, as an Independent, but with a weighty back- 
 ing of the Unionist Party behind him. The next 
 time he spoke, probably, if he did speak before his 
 journey to Sheffield, would be in the House of Com- 
 mons. Would he, like those others, feel the inertia 
 of it, the slow decay of his ambitions, the fatal ten- 
 dency towards compromise? 
 
 Arrived at St. Pancras, Maraton drove straight to 
 his house in Russell Square and, letting himself in 
 with his latch-key, made his way to the study. The 
 lights were still burning there. Julia and Aaron 
 were sitting opposite to one another at the end of the 
 long table, a typewriter between them and a pile of 
 - papers by Aaron's side. Julia rose at once to her 
 feet. 
 
 " You are in ! " she cried. " We have been tele- 
 phoning all the evening. We heard half an hour 
 ago." 
 
 Maraton nodded. 
 
 "In by seven hundred. Not bad, I suppose, con- 
 sidering that I must have been rather a hard nut to 
 crack. Has Peter Dale been here ? " 
 
 Aaron shook his head. 
 
 '* He hasn't been near the place." 
 
 Maraton's face hardened. 
 
 " You know that they sprang a Labour candidate 
 upon me at the last moment? He did me no par- 
 ticular harm, but it was an infamous trick. I wired 
 to Dale yesterday and had no reply." 
 
 " David Ross has been here," Aaron said. " We 
 heard all about it from him. There is dissension in
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 215 
 
 the camp. Dale was in favour of withdrawing their 
 candidate, but Graveling wouldn't have it." 
 
 " He did me no harm, anyway," Maraton re- 
 marked. " The Labour vote was mine from the 
 start." 
 
 " So it ought to have been," Aaron declared vigor- 
 ously. " What could they do but vote for you, with 
 Manchester staring them in the face ? " 
 
 Maraton's expression lightened, a gleam of humour 
 twinkled in his eyes. 
 
 " After all," he murmured, " it would have been 
 almost Gilbertian if I had been returned to Parlia- 
 ment with the Labour vote against me! ... Aaron, 
 go and ring up Peter Dale. I want this matter 
 cleared up. Ask him when we can meet." 
 
 Aaron left the room upon his errand. Maraton 
 moved restlessly about the room for a moment or 
 two. He mixed himself a drink at the sideboard, 
 and lit a cigarette. Julia's eyes followed him all 
 the time. 
 
 " So you are a Member of Parliament," she said 
 at last. 
 
 " I hope you approve? " he queried. 
 
 Julia did not answer him at once. He looked 
 across at her from the depth of the easy chair into 
 which he had thrown himself. She was wearing a 
 plain black dress, buttoned to her throat and unre- 
 lieved even by a linen collar or any touch of white. 
 She was pale, and her eyes seemed all the more beau- 
 tiful for the faint violet lines beneath them. 
 
 " Parliament has been the grave of so many men's 
 careers," Maraton continued. " I am fully warned.
 
 216 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 Nothing of the sort is going to happen to me. I 
 wouldn't have gone in now but for Foley. It's only 
 fair. It helps him, and he's sticking to his pledges 
 like a man." 
 
 " When do you go to Sheffield? " she asked. 
 
 " Next Wednesday. No postponements." 
 
 Julia nodded. 
 
 " Mr. Elgood has been here this afternoon," she 
 said, " from Sheffield. He is the secretary of the 
 Union, you know. He is coming again to-morrow 
 morning. He wants to talk to you about the boys' 
 age limit." 
 
 " Any letters of consequence ? " 
 
 Julia pointed a little disdainfully to a pile upon 
 the table. 
 
 " All invitations," she observed coldly. " Perhaps 
 you had better look them through." 
 
 Maraton shook his head. 
 
 " They are no use to me," he declared, " unless 
 they're political ? " 
 
 He rose and stood by Julia's side, glancing idly 
 through the heap of papers by the side of her 
 machine. 
 
 " You seem to have found plenty to do, anyway," 
 he remarked. 
 
 " There was a great deal," she assured him. " I 
 think I have collected all the possible information 
 you can need on the steel works of Sheffield." 
 
 " Haven't been overworking, I hope ? " 
 
 She laughed at him softly. Her parted lips 
 seemed somehow to lighten her face. 
 
 " This doesn't quite compare with nine hours a
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 217 
 
 day over a sewing machine, with a hundred other 
 girls packed into a small room," she reminded him. 
 " No, I haven't been overworking. I almost wished, 
 an hour ago, that I could find something more to do." 
 
 "Why didn't you go out?" 
 
 " To-morrow night is Guild night," she said. " I 
 go out then to talk to my girls. Miss Stevens is 
 coming from the Lyceum Club to lecture to us on 
 Woman's Suffrage." 
 
 " Do you want a vote? " he asked. 
 
 " If it comes," she replied. " It isn't worth wor- 
 rying about. I like my girls, though, to be taught 
 to think." 
 
 There was a brief silence. Maraton was still 
 examining the letters laid out for his inspection. 
 Julia was standing by his side. As the last one 
 slipped through his fingers, he turned quickly towards 
 her, oppressed by some mysterious significance in 
 her silence. Her eyes were luminous. She seemed 
 to be trembling. She avoided his enquiring glance. 
 
 " Julia ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 She lifted her head slowly, almost unwillingly. 
 Though her lips were parted, she made no attempt 
 at speech. Then the door was suddenly opened. 
 Aaron entered in some excitement. 
 
 " Mr. Dale and some of the others are here now, 
 sir," he announced. " I heard they were on their 
 way when I telephoned. They would like to see you 
 at once." 
 
 Maraton stood for a moment quite still, without 
 replying. Aaron gazed across the table in some sur- 
 prise.
 
 2i8 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 " What shall I say to them? " he asked. " They 
 are here now." 
 
 Maraton shrugged his shoulders. 
 " Let them come in," he directed.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 The three men Peter Dale, Abraham Weavel 
 and Graveling filed into the room a little solemnly. 
 Maraton shook hands with the two former, but 
 Graveling, who kept his head turned away from 
 Julia, affected not to notice Maraton's friendly over- 
 tures. 
 
 " So you managed it all right," Peter Dale re- 
 marked. " Pretty close fit, wasn't it ? " 
 
 " Seven hundred," Maraton replied. " Not so bad, 
 considering. You see, I was a complete stranger 
 and I am not sure that I have learnt the knack yet 
 of that sort of platform speaking." 
 
 " However that may be," Abraham Weavel de- 
 clared, accepting a cigar from the box which Mara- 
 ton had ordered, and standing with his hands under- 
 neath his coat-tails upon the hearthrug, " you've 
 done the trick. You're an M.P., same as we are." 
 
 "You've no objection, I hope?" Maraton re- 
 marked lightly. 
 
 " That's as may be," Mr. Weavel observed sen- 
 tentiously. " We don't, so to speak, know exactly 
 where we are just at this moment. There's all sorts 
 of rumours going about, and we want them cleared 
 up. Go on, Dale, ask him the first question. You're 
 spokesman, you know." 
 
 Mr. Peter Dale threw away the match with which
 
 220 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 he had just lit his pipe, sampled the whiskey and 
 water to which he had helped himself with a most 
 liberal hand, and deliberately selected the most com- 
 fortable chair within reach. With his hands in his 
 trousers pockets, the thumbs protruding, his pipe in 
 the left-hand corner of his mouth, his eyebrows drawn 
 close together, he looked steadfastly towards Mar- 
 aton. 
 
 " The first question," he began stolidly, ** is this. 
 You owe your seat in Parliament to the Unionists. 
 What have you promised them in return? You 
 haven't attempted to commit us to anything, I hope ? " 
 
 " Certainly not," Maraton replied. " Such an 
 idea never occurred to me. So far as I know," he 
 went on, after a moment's hesitation, *' Mr. Foley is 
 not, at the moment, in need of your support. His 
 majority is sufficient." 
 
 Peter Dale frowned ominously. 
 
 " That may or may not be," he remarked gruffly. 
 <{ So long as you haven't taken it upon yourself to 
 pledge us to anything, well, that disposes of question 
 number one. The next is, where are you going to 
 sit in the House?" 
 
 Maraton's eyebrows were slightly raised. 
 
 " Where am I going to sit? " he repeated. " Re- 
 member, if you please, that as a member I have never 
 been inside your House of Commons. I am not ac- 
 quainted with its procedure. Where, in your opin- 
 ion, ought I to sit? " 
 
 " Your place is with us," Peter Dale declared. " I 
 can't see that there's any doubt about that." 
 
 "And why?"
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 221 
 
 "You're a Labour man, aren't you?" Peter Dale 
 asked. " You call yourself one, anyway." 
 
 " If I am a Labour man," Maraton said, " why 
 did you put up a candidate to oppose me at Notting- 
 ham?" 
 
 Peter Dale smoked steadily for several moments. 
 
 " It was nowt to do with me," he announced. 
 " The fellow sprung up all on his own, as it were. 
 Graveling here may have known something of it, but 
 so far as we are concerned he was not an authorised 
 candidate." 
 
 Maraton shrugged his shoulders slightly. 
 
 " There was nothing," he objected, " to convey 
 that idea to the electors. He made use of the 
 Labour agent and the Labour committee rooms.. 
 My telegram to you remained unanswered. Under 
 those circumstances, I really can scarcely see how 
 you find it possible to disown him." 
 
 " In any case," Abraham Weavel intervened, with 
 conciliation in his tone, "he didn't do himself a bit 
 o* good nor you a bit of harm. Four hundred and 
 thirty votes he polled out of eight thousand, and 
 those were votes which otherwise would have gone to 
 the Liberal. I should say myself that it did you 
 good, if anything." 
 
 "You may be right," Maraton admitted. "At 
 the same time, one thing is very clear. You did not 
 offer me the slightest official support. It is true 
 that I did not ask for it. I prefer, as I have told 
 you all along, my independence. It will be my object 
 to continue without direct association with any party. 
 If I can find a place in the house allotted to Inde-
 
 222 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 pendent Members, I shall sit there. If not, I shall 
 sit with the Unionists." 
 
 Peter Dale's face darkened. This was what they 
 had feared. 
 
 " You mean that you're breaking away from us ? " 
 he exclaimed angrily. " There's no room in our 
 little party for Independent Members, no sort of 
 sense in a mere handful of us all pulling different 
 ways." 
 
 " I never joined your party, Mr. Dale," Maraton 
 reminded him. " I have never joined any man's 
 party. I am for the people." 
 
 " And what about us ? " Graveling demanded. 
 "Aren't we for the people? Isn't that what we're 
 in Parliament for? Isn't that why we are called 
 Labour Members ? " 
 
 Maraton regarded the last speaker steadily. 
 
 " Mr. Graveling," he said, " since you have mooted 
 the question, I will admit that I do not consider you, 
 as a body of men, entirely devoted to the cause of 
 the people. You are each devoted to your own con- 
 stituency. It is your business to look after the few 
 thousand voters who sent you into Parliament, and in 
 your eagerness to serve and please them, I think 
 that you sometimes forget the greater, the more uni- 
 versal truths. I may be wrong. That is how the 
 matter seems to me." 
 
 " Then since you're so frank," Peter Dale de- 
 clared, with undiminished wrath, " I'll just imitate 
 your candour! I'll tell you how you seem to us. 
 You seem like a man with a gift, whose head has 
 been turned by Mr. Foley and his fine friends.
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 223 
 
 You're full of great phrases, but there's nothing 
 practical about them or you. You're on your way 
 to an easy place for yourself in the world, and a seat 
 in Foley's Cabinet." 
 
 " Have you any objection," Maraton asked, " to 
 the people's cause being represented in the Cabinet ? " 
 
 It was the last straw, this! Peter Dale's voice 
 shook with passion. 
 
 " It's been a promise," he shouted, " for this many 
 a year ! A sop to the people it was, at the last elec- 
 tion. There's one of us ought to be in the Cabinet 
 one of us, I say, not a carpetbagger ! " 
 
 " We're the wrong type of man," Graveling broke 
 in sarcastically. " That's what he said. He was 
 heard to say it to the Home Secretary. The wrong 
 type of man he called us." 
 
 Maraton suddenly changed his attitude. He was 
 momentarily conscious of Julia listening, from her 
 place in the background, to every word with strained 
 attention. After all, these men had doubtless done 
 good work according to their capacity. 
 
 " My friends," he protested, " why do we bandy 
 words like this ? Perhaps it is my fault. I have had 
 a long and tiring day, and I must confess that I to 
 some extent resented a Labour man being set up 
 against me, without a word of explanation. You 
 mean well, all of you, I am sure, even if we can't 
 quite see the same way. Don't let's quarrel. I am 
 not used to Parties. I can't serve under any one. 
 My vote's my own, and I don't like the political jug- 
 gery of selling it here and there for a quid pro quo. 
 We may sit on opposite benches, but I give you my
 
 224 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 word that there isn't anything in the world which 
 brings me into political life or will keep me there, 
 save the welfare of the people. Now shake hands, 
 all of you. Let us have a drink together and part 
 friends." 
 
 Peter Dale shook his head doggedly. He had 
 risen to his feet a man filled with slow burning but 
 bitter anger. 
 
 " No, sir ! " he declared. " Me and my mates 
 have stood for the people for this many a year, and 
 we've no fancy for a fine gentleman springing up 
 like a Jack-in-the-box from somewhere else in the 
 House, without any reference to us, and yet calling 
 himself and advertising himself as the champion of 
 our cause. Outside Parliament we can't stop you. 
 The Trades' Union men think more of you, maybe, 
 than they do of us. But inside you can plough your 
 own furrow, and for my part, when you're on your 
 legs, the smoking-room will be plenty good enough for 
 me!" 
 
 " And for the rest of us ! " Graveling agreed 
 fiercely. " If you're so keen on being independent, 
 you shall see what you can do on your own." 
 
 Dale was already on his way to the door, but 
 Maraton checked him. 
 
 " Mr. Dale," he said, " you are an older man than 
 I am, a man of much experience. I beg you to 
 reflect. The feelings which prompt you towards this 
 action are unworthy. If you attempt to send me to 
 Coventry, you will simply bring ridicule upon a 
 Party which should be the broadest-minded in the 
 House."
 
 He had risen to his feet a man filled with slow burning but 
 bitter anger. Page 224.
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 225 
 
 Mr. Dale turned around. He had already 
 crammed his black, wide-awake hat on to his head. 
 Like all men whose outlook upon life is limited, the 
 idea of ridicule was hateful to him. 
 
 " You mark my words, young man," he growled. 
 " The one that makes a fool of himself is the one 
 that's going to play the toady to a master who will 
 send him to heel with a kick, every time he opens his 
 mouth to bark ! Go your own way. I'm only sorry 
 you ever set foot in this country." 
 
 He passed out, followed by Weavel. Graveling 
 only lingered upon the threshold. He was looking 
 towards Julia. 
 
 " Miss Thurnbrein," he said, " can I have a word 
 with you ? " 
 
 " You cannot," she replied steadily. 
 
 He remained there, dogged, full of suppressed 
 wrath. The sight of her taking her place before 
 the typewriter seemed to madden him. Already she 
 was the better for the change of work and surround- 
 ings, for the improved conditions of her daily life. 
 There was the promise of colour in her cheeks. Her 
 plain black gown was as simple as ever, but her hair 
 was arranged with care, and she carried herself with 
 a new distinction, born of her immense contentment. 
 Her supercilious attitude attracted while it infuriated 
 him. 
 
 " It's only a word I want," he persisted. " I have 
 a right to some sort of civility, at any rate." 
 
 " You have no rights at all," she retorted. " I 
 thought that we had finished with that the last time 
 we spoke together."
 
 226 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 " I want to know," he went on obstinately, " why 
 you haven't been to work lately? " 
 
 " Because I have left Weinberg's," she told him 
 curtly. " It is no business of yours, but if it will 
 help to get rid of you " 
 
 " Left Weinberg's," he repeated. " Got another 
 job, eh? " 
 
 " I am Mr. Maraton's assistant secretary," she 
 announced. 
 
 His face for a moment was almost distorted with 
 anger. 
 
 "You're living here under this roof?" he de- 
 manded. 
 
 " It is no concern of yours where or how I am 
 living," she answered. 
 
 " That's a lie ! " Graveling exclaimed furiously. 
 " You're my girl. I've hung around after you for 
 six years. I've known you since you were a child. 
 I'll be d d if I'll be thrown on one side now and 
 see you become another man's mistress especially 
 his!" 
 
 He came a step further into the room. Maraton, 
 who had been standing with his back to them, arrang- 
 ing some papers on his desk, turned slowly around. 
 Graveling was advancing towards him with the air 
 of a bully. 
 
 "Do you hear you Maraton?" he cried. 
 " I've had enough of you ! You can flout us all at 
 our work, if you like, but you go a bit too far when 
 you think to make a plaything of my girl. Do you 
 hear that?" J 
 
 " Perfectly," Maraton replied.
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 227 
 
 " And what have you got to say about it? " 
 
 Maraton shrugged his shoulders slightly. 
 
 " I don't know that I have anything particular to 
 say about it. If it interests you to be told my opin- 
 ion of you, you are welcome to hear it." 
 
 Graveling advanced a step nearer still. His fists 
 were clenched, an ugly scowl had parted his lips. 
 Julia came swiftly from her seat. Her eyes were 
 filled with fury. She faced Graveling. 
 
 " Richard Graveling," she exclaimed, " I am 
 ashamed to think that I ever let you call yourself 
 my friend! If you do not leave the room and the 
 house at once, I swear that I will never speak to you 
 again as long as I live ! " 
 
 He pushed her aside roughly. 
 
 " I'll talk to you presently," he declared. " It's 
 him that my business is with now." 
 
 Maraton's eyes flashed a little dangerously. 
 
 " Keep your hands off that young lady," he 
 ordered. 
 
 " You'd like her to protect you, would you ? " 
 Graveling taunted. " Listen here. I'm not the sort 
 of man to have my girl taken away and made another 
 man's plaything. Is she going to stop here? 
 Answer me quickly." 
 
 " As long as she chooses," Maraton replied. 
 
 " Then take that ! " Graveling shouted. 
 
 Maraton stepped lightly to one side. Graveling 
 was overbalanced by his fierce blow into the empty 
 air. The next moment he was lying on his back, and 
 the room seemed to be spinning around him. Mara- 
 ton was standing with his finger upon the bell. Julia
 
 328 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 was by his side, her eyes blazing. She spoke never a 
 word, but as Graveling struggled back to his senses 
 he could see the scorn upon her face. 
 
 Aaron and a man servant entered the room simulta- 
 neously. Maraton pointed to the figure upon the 
 floor. 
 
 " Aaron," he said, " your friend Mr. Graveling 
 has met with a slight accident. You had better take 
 him outside and put him in a taxicab." 
 
 Graveling rose painfully tp his feet. He was 
 very pale, and there was blood upon his cheek. He 
 leaned on Aaron's arm and he looked towards Mara- 
 ton and Julia. 
 
 " Better apologise and shake hands," Maraton 
 advised quietly. 
 
 Graveling seemed not to have heard him. He 
 looked towards them both, and his fingers gripped 
 Aaron's shoulder so that the young man winced with 
 pain. Then without a single word he turned towards 
 the door. 
 
 " Let him go ! " Julia cried fiercely. " I am only 
 thankful that you punished him. We do not want 
 his apologies. I hope that I may never see him 
 again ! " 
 
 Graveling, who had reached the door, leaning 
 heavily upon Aaron, turned around. His face, with 
 the streak of blood upon his cheek, was ghastly. He 
 left the room between Aaron and the servant. They 
 heard his unsteady footsteps in the hall, a whistle, 
 the departure of the cab. 
 
 " Aaron has gone with him," Maraton remarked 
 quietly. " Perhaps it is as well."
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 229 
 
 Her face suddenly relaxed and softened. The 
 fury left her eyes ; she sank back into the easy chair. 
 
 " I am ashamed," she moaned. " Oh, I am 
 ashamed ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXV 
 
 The sound of traffic outside had died away. The 
 silence became almost unnaturally prolonged. Only 
 the echo of Julia's last words seemed, somehow or 
 other, to remain, words which inspired Maraton with 
 a curious and indefinable emotion, a pity which he 
 could not altogether analyse. Twice he had turned 
 softly as though to leave the room, and twice he had 
 returned. He stood now upon the hearthrug, look- 
 ing down at her, perplexed, himself in some degree 
 agitated. She was not weeping, although every now 
 and then her bosom rose and fell as though with some 
 suppressed storm. It was simply a paroxysm of 
 sensitiveness. She was afraid to look up, afraid to 
 break a silence which to her was full of consolation. 
 Maraton, a little ashamed of the scene in which he 
 had been an unwilling participator, bitterly self- 
 accusing, still found his thoughts diverted from his 
 own humiliation as he watched the girl a long, slim 
 figure bent in one strangely graceful curve, her beau- 
 tiful hair gleaming in the soft light, her face still 
 half hidden by her strong, capable fingers a figure 
 exquisitely symbolic, full of pathos. Her elbows 
 rested upon her knees ; she was crouched a little for- 
 ward. 
 
 " Julia ! " he ventured at last. 
 
 She looked up, without undue haste but without
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 231 
 
 hesitation. She had obviously been waiting for 
 speech from him. He saw then that his impression 
 had been a true one. There were no traces of tears 
 in her eyes, which sought his at once sought his 
 with a look which warned him suddenly of his danger. 
 Her cheeks were burning; she was still shaking with 
 some internal passion. 
 
 " After all," he said soothingly, " there are such 
 people in the world. One can't ignore the fact of 
 their existence. They don't really count." 
 
 Her eyes flashed. 
 
 " It is terrible that they should be allowed to live." 
 
 He smiled at her sympathetically. Speech seemed 
 somehow to lessen the tension between them. 
 
 *' My dear Julia," he declared, " I am suffering 
 just as much as you. I have the feeling that I have 
 descended to the level of a common brawler. Yet 
 what was I to do? He needed the lesson very badly 
 indeed." 
 
 " I only hope that it will last him all his life. I 
 only hope that he will not come near either of us 
 again." 
 
 " Very doubtful whether he will want to, I should 
 think," Maraton remarked, leaning against the table. 
 " You certainly didn't mince your words." 
 
 " If I could have thought of harsher ones, I would 
 have used them," she asserted. 
 
 " What a waste of time it has been this evening ! " 
 He sighed, as his fingers turned over the pile of let- 
 ters by his side. " What with Mr. Peter Dale and 
 his little deputation, and this idiotic person Gravel- 
 ing, I have scarcely done a thing since I got home."
 
 232 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 " There's nothing that you need do until to-mor- 
 row," she told him softly. 
 
 There was another brief pause. She was sitting 
 up now leaning back in her chair, indeed 
 trembling no longer, although the colour still flamed 
 in her cheeks. Her eyes, which seldom left his face, 
 were strangely, almost liquidly soft. Maraton 
 moved restlessly in his place. Perhaps he had been 
 unwise not to have stolen out of the room during the 
 first few moments. Julia, as he very well knew, was 
 no ordinary person, and he felt a sense of growing un- 
 easiness. The tension of silence became ominous and 
 he spoke simply to dissipate it. 
 
 " I hope I really didn't hurt the fellow." 
 
 " If you had killed him," she replied, " he deserved 
 it!" 
 
 " He was an insulting beast, of course," Maraton 
 continued. " After all, though, one mustn't bring 
 oneself down to the level of these creatures. He saw 
 with his eyes, and what is seen from that point of 
 view isn't of any account. Perhaps it isn't his fault 
 that he hasn't learnt to govern himself. If I were 
 you, Julia, I wouldn't bother about it any more, 
 really." 
 
 " It wasn't altogether what he said," she whispered. 
 It wasn't altogether that." 
 
 He looked at her enquiringly. 
 
 "You mean?" 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 "Tell me?" he begged. 
 
 Once more he saw that little quiver pass through 
 her frame. Her lips were parted and closed again.
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 233 
 
 Maraton was puzzled, but did his best to follow her 
 line of thought. 
 
 " The only way to treat such a person," he con- 
 tinued, " is to treat him as a lunatic. That is what 
 he really is. I scarcely heard what he said; already 
 I have forgotten every word." 
 
 " But I can't ! I never can ! " 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " My dear Julia," he protested, " I appeal to your 
 common sense ! " 
 
 She looked at him almost angrily. Her foot beat 
 upon the floor. 
 
 " What has common sense to do with it ! " she ex- 
 claimed. " Of course, it was a foolish thing to say. 
 He didn't even believe it I am sure of that. It 
 was simply mad, insensate jealousy ; a vicious attempt 
 to make me suffer. That isn't where he hurt. It 
 was because shall I tell you ? " 
 
 A sudden instinct warned him. He held out his 
 hand. 
 
 " It will only distress you. No, I don't want to 
 hear." 
 
 The momentary silence seemed endowed with 
 peculiar qualities. They heard the little clock tick- 
 ing upon the mantelpiece, the tinkle of a hansom 
 bell outside, the muffled sound of motor horns in the 
 distance. Very slowly her head drooped back once 
 more to the shelter of her hands. 
 
 " You don't understand," she said simply. " Why 
 should you ? I wasn't even angry that is the terri- 
 ble part of it. I wished I found myself wishing 
 that it were true ! "
 
 234 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 Maraton's hands suddenly gripped the edge of the 
 table against which he was leaning. Her face was 
 still concealed; once more her long, slim body was 
 shaken with quivering sobs. 
 
 "The shame of it!" she moaned. "That is 
 where he hurt. The shame of hearing it and know- 
 ing it wasn't true and of wanting it to be true! I 
 haven't ever thought of any one like that he knows 
 that well enough. He used to call me sexless. 
 There isn't any man in the world has ever dared to 
 touch my lips he knows it." 
 
 Maraton left his place and quietly approached 
 her. She heard him coming, and the trembling 
 gradually ceased. He sat on the arm of her chair, 
 and his hand rested gently upon her shoulder. 
 
 " Dear Julia," he said, " I am glad that you have 
 been honest. Life is always full of these emotions, 
 you know, especially for highly-strung people, and 
 sometimes the atmosphere gets a little overcharged 
 and they blaze out as they have done this evening, 
 and perhaps one is the better for it." 
 
 She remained quite motionless during his brief 
 pause. One hand had moved from before her face 
 and had gripped his. 
 
 " There's our work, you know, Julia," he went 
 on. " There isn't anything in the world must inter- 
 fere with that. We can't divide our lives, can we? 
 We ought not to want to. If I could make you 
 understand can I, I wonder ? how splendid it 
 is to have some one here by my side who understands. 
 It seems to me that I am going to be a little lonely. 
 I shall have to stand on my own feet a good deal. I
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 235 
 
 rely so much upon you, Julia. You are a woman, 
 aren't you I mean a real woman ? I need you." 
 
 Very slowly she raised her head. Her eyes met 
 his freely. There was something of the childlike 
 adoration of an instinctive and triumphant purity in 
 the smile which parted her lips. Maraton understood 
 at once that the danger was past. The thunder had 
 left the air. 
 
 " You know that I am your slave," she murmured. 
 " Don't be afraid that I am becoming neurotic. You 
 see, this was all a little new to me, and for a moment 
 I felt that I wanted to go and hide myself. That 
 has all passed now. I am not even ashamed. I 
 suppose one gets terrified with receiving so much, 
 and wants to give. It's a very natural feminine 
 impulse, isn't it? And I shall give my fingers, 
 my brain all I possess." 
 
 She rose suddenly to her feet and glanced at the 
 clock. 
 
 " What a day you must have had ! " she exclaimed. 
 " You are not going to look at my Sheffield figures, 
 even, before the morning. Oh, .you'll be surprised 
 when you see them! You've a wonderful case. 
 Some of the fortunes that have been made there 
 that are being made there now are barbaric. I 
 mustn't talk about it, or I shall get angry. Listen, 
 there's Aaron." 
 
 They heard the sound of his latch-key. A mo* 
 ment later he entered the room. He looked anxiously 
 at Maraton ; Julia he scarcely noticed. 
 
 " I took him home," he announced. " He never 
 spoke a word the whole way; seemed stupid. I
 
 236 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 shouldn't be surprised if he hadn't gat a little con- 
 cussion." 
 
 " Did you send for a doctor ? " Maraton asked. 
 
 " His landlady was going to do that," Aaron con- 
 tinued. " It was all I could do to sit in the cab by 
 his side. I wish yes, I almost wish that he'd never 
 got up from that carpet." 
 
 " Thanks," Maraton replied. " I didn't come 
 over here to fill the inside of an English prison ! " 
 
 "Prison!" 
 
 Aaron's expression of contempt was sublime. 
 
 " There's nothing they could have done to you, 
 sir. All the same, I only wish that your blow had 
 killed him." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 Aaron dropped his voice for a minute. 
 
 " Because wherever we go or move," he said, " there 
 will always be the snake in the grass. He will be 
 filled forever with a poisonous hatred for you. He 
 will never dare to raise his hand against you to your 
 face he isn't that sort of man but he'll have his 
 stab before he's finished. He was born a sneak." 
 
 Maraton smiled carelessly as he bade them good 
 night. 
 
 " The one thing in the world," he reminded them, 
 " worse than having no friends, is to have no 
 enemies."
 
 CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 Eight days later, Maraton delivered his prelimi- 
 nary address to the ironworkers of Sheffield, and at 
 six o'clock the next morning the strike had been 
 unanimously proclaimed. The columns of the daily 
 newspapers, still hopelessly bound over to the inter- 
 ests of the capitalist, were full of solemn warnings 
 against this new and disturbing force in English 
 sociology. The Dally Oracle alone paused to present 
 a few words of appreciation of the splendid dramatic 
 force wielded by this revolutionary. 
 
 " If this man is sincere," the Oracle declared, " the 
 country needs him. If he is a charlatan, then for 
 heaven's sake, even at the expense of all the laws that 
 were ever framed, away with him ! There is no man 
 breathing to-day who is developing a more potent, 
 a more wide-reaching influence upon the destinies of 
 our country." 
 
 Maraton's first address had been delivered to a 
 great multitude, but there was no building whose 
 roof could cover the hordes of men who had made up 
 their minds to hear his last words at Sheffield. From 
 far and wide, the people came that night in countless 
 streams. A platform had been arranged in the 
 middle of the principal pleasure park of the town, 
 and around this, from early in the afternoon, they 
 began to take up their places. When night fell, so
 
 238 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 far as the eye could see, the ground was covered with 
 a black mass of humanity. The multitude filled the 
 park and crowded up the encircling streets. As the 
 darkness deepened, they lit torches. Beyond, down 
 in the valley and up on the hillside, were rows of 
 lights and the flare of furnaces scon to be quenched. 
 Even that little group of hard, unimaginative men 
 who stood with Maraton upon the platform felt the 
 strange thrill of the tense and swelling throng gath- 
 ered together with this inspiring background. 
 
 It seemed to Maraton himself, as he stood there 
 listening to the roar of welcoming voices, as though 
 all their white faces were gathered into one, the 
 prototype of suffering humanity, the sad, hollow- 
 cheeked, hollow-eyed victim of birth and heritage. 
 His voice seemed to swell that night to something 
 greater than its usual volume; some peculiar gift 
 of penetration seemed to have been accorded him. A 
 hundred thousand men heard his passionate prayer to 
 them. They were hard-featured, hard-minded York- 
 shiremen, most of them, but they never forgot. 
 
 " You will get the half a crown a week which your 
 leaders demand," Maraton told them. " Your mas- 
 ters may God forgive me for using the word ! 
 will pay to that extent. But if there is any jus- 
 tice beyond this world, how, indeed, will they meet 
 the debt built upon your sufferings, your cramped 
 lives, and the graves of your little children. That 
 half a crown a week, I say, will come to you. Don't 
 dare, any of you, to be satisfied when it does come. It 
 isn't a few shillings only that are owing to you. It's 
 another social system, a rearrangement of your
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 239 
 
 whole scheme of life, under which you and your chil- 
 dren, and your children's children, may live with the 
 dignity and freedom due to that strange and common 
 gift of life which beats in your pulses and in mine. 
 I am here to-night to show you the way to that extra 
 half-crown, but I don't want you for one moment 
 to think that these small increases in wages represent , 
 the end and aim of myself and those who share my 
 beliefs. Your day may not see it, nor mine, but 
 history for the last thousand years has shown us the 
 slow emancipation of the peoples of the world. 
 There are many rungs in the ladder yet to be climbed. 
 Your children may have to take up the burden where 
 you have left it. A revolution may be necessary, 
 sorrows innumerable may lie between you and the 
 goal of your class. And yet I bid you hope. I 
 plead with each one of you to remember that he is 
 not only an individual ; that he is a unit of humanity, 
 that he is the progenitor of unborn children, a force 
 from which will spring the happier and the freer 
 generation, if not in our time, in the days to come." 
 
 He passed on to speak for a few moments about 
 the reconstituted state of Society, which was his 
 favourite theme, and from that to a peroration unpre- 
 pared fiercely, passionately eloquent. When he 
 had finished speaking, the air seemed curiously dull 
 and lifeless ; an extraordinary silence, like the silence 
 before a thunderstorm, brooded over the place. 
 Then the human sea broke its bounds. The smut- 
 blackened trees quivered with the thunder of their 
 voices. Showers of sparks rose into the air from 
 the torches they waved. It was a pandemonium of^
 
 240 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 sound. They came on like a mighty flood, before 
 whose force the dam has suddenly yielded. The 
 platform was crushed like a nutshell before their 
 onslaught. They were mad with a great enthusiasm, 
 beside themselves with a passion stirred only in such 
 men once or twice in a lifetime. The roar of their 
 voices, as they shouted his name, reached even to the 
 station, to which Maraton had been smuggled secretly 
 in a fast motor-car a disappearance which a great 
 journalist on the next morning alluded to as the one 
 supremely dramatic touch in a night of wonders. 
 The roar of voices indeed was still in his ears as he 
 stood before the window of his compartment, look- 
 ing out over the fire-hung city with its vaporous 
 flames, its huge furnaces, its glare which was already 
 becoming fainter. A myriad lights still twinkled 
 upon the hillsides; the smoke-stained sky was red 
 with the reflection of those thousand torches. Even 
 as the train rushed on into the darkness, he could 
 hear the echo of their cry as they sought for him. 
 
 " Maraton ! Maraton ! " 
 
 He threw himself at last into a corner seat of his 
 compartment, and conscious of a somewhat rare phys- 
 ical exhaustion, he rang the bell for the attendant and 
 ordered refreshments. The evening papers were by 
 his side, but he had no fancy to read. The thrill of 
 the last few hours was still upon him. He sat with 
 folded arms, looking idly through the window at the 
 chaotic prospect. Suddenly he was aware that the 
 door of his compartment had been opened. A man 
 had entered and was taking the seat opposite to him, 
 a man whose appearance struck Maraton at once as
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 241 
 
 being vaguely familiar, a man who smiled at him al- 
 most with the air of an old acquaintance. 
 
 " You don't recognise me, I can see," the newcomer 
 said, smiling slightly, " yet we ought to know one 
 another." 
 
 Maraton looked at the intruder curiously. It was, 
 in many respects, a remarkable face ; a low, heavy 
 forehead ; eyes in which shone the unmistakable light ; 
 broad, firm mouth ; fair hair, left unusually long. In 
 figure the man was short and stout. His collar had 
 parted, and a black bow of unusual size was drooping 
 from his shoulder. He was slightly out of breath, 
 too, as though he had but recently recovered from 
 some strenuous exercise. 
 
 " I will save you from speculations I am Henry 
 Selingman," he pronounced. 
 
 Maraton held out his hand. 
 
 " Selingman ! " he exclaimed. " It is your photo- 
 graphs, of course, then. We have never met." 
 
 " Never until to-night," Selingman admitted. 
 " When I heard that you were in England, I made up 
 my mind to come over. To-night seemed to me pro- 
 pitious. I wanted to understand this marvellous 
 power of yours of which so many people have written. 
 Nothing has been exaggerated. The message which I 
 have struggled to deliver to the world through my 
 poetry, my plays, such prose as I have ventured upon, 
 you yourself can tear from your heart and throw to 
 the people's own ears. . . . Forgive me I, too, 
 will smoke. I will drink wine, also," he added, ring- 
 ing the bell. " I had a dozen friends to help me, but 
 every bone in my body aches with the struggle to
 
 242 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 escape. You maddened them, those people. It was 
 magnificent." 
 
 He ordered champagne from the attendant and be- 
 gan to smoke a long black cigar, nervously and 
 quickly. 
 
 " To-night I shall write of this," he went on. " I 
 have lived for forty-five years and I have hunted all 
 over the world, and in my study I have conjured up all 
 the visions a man may, but never yet has there been 
 anything like this. The black hillside a mass of soft 
 black velvet, jewelled like a woman's gown, the red 
 fires from the blasting furnaces, the shower of sparks 
 from a thousand torches, the glow upon the fog- 
 poisoned sky, those faces God, how white ! Never 
 in my life have I seen the writing of the finger of the 
 Messiah as I saw it to-night ! It has been the hour 
 of a lifetime. Maraton, over there, man, our toilers 
 are toilers indeed, but not like that. It isn't stamped 
 into them. No, they're not branded." 
 
 " Over there ? " Maraton repeated. 
 
 " Belgium, Germany," Selingman continued, 
 " Germany chiefly. Our Socialism has done better for 
 us than that. It has kindled a little fire in the heart of 
 the men, and from its warmth has sprung something 
 of that self-respect which will be the seed of the new 
 humanity. I want you over there, Maraton. I want 
 to show you. Your heart will warm with joy. God, 
 what food for hell are your manufacturers here! 
 How they'll burn!" 
 
 " The curse of England is its terrible middle class," 
 Maraton said slowly. " The present generation is 
 the first even to dimly realise it. Our aristocracy is
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 243 
 
 no better nor any worse than the aristocracy of other 
 nations ; rather better, perhaps, than worse. But our 
 middle class rules the land. They represent the vot- 
 ing power. They conceal their real sentiments under 
 the name of Liberalism, they keep their heel upon the 
 neck of Labour. I tell you, when the revolution 
 comes, it will be Hampstead and Kensington the mob 
 will sack and burn, not Park Lane and Grosvenor 
 Square." 
 
 " You're right," Selingman agreed ; " of course 
 you're right. You and I make no mistakes. We are 
 of the order of those whose eyes were touched in the 
 cradle. Maraton, sometimes I am sorry I'm an artist ; 
 sometimes I loathe this sense of beauty which drives 
 my pen into the pleasanter ways. There's only one 
 thing in the world for you and me to work for. The 
 world to-day doesn't deserve the offerings of the artist 
 until it has purged itself. I waste my time writing 
 plays, but then, after all, I am not English. If 
 those were my people, Maraton, I doubt whether my 
 pen could ever have wandered even for a moment into 
 the pleasant ways." 
 
 Maraton sighed. 
 
 " There is America, too," he groaned. 
 
 " A conglomeration," Selingman declared hastily, 
 " not to be reckoned with yet as a nation. What is 
 born amongst the older peoples must find its way there 
 by natural law. It is not a country for commence- 
 ments. England it is England where the harvest 
 is ripe. What are you doing, man ? " 
 
 Maraton looked thoughtfully out of the window. 
 The train was gathering speed; they were travelling
 
 244 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 now at a great pace. Outside, the twilight was fad- 
 ing. A black cloud had passed across the rising 
 moon. The electric light illuminated the carriage. 
 It was almost as though they were passing through a 
 tunnel. 
 
 " You ask me almost the saddest question one could 
 ask," he replied gently. " I am working for pos- 
 terity. There is no other course. I called those peo- 
 ple together to-night at Sheffield for the sake of half 
 a crown a week extra wages. It will make life a little 
 easier for them, and I suppose every atom of pros- 
 perity must count in the sum of their future and their 
 children's future." 
 
 " Spent in beer, most likely," Selingman muttered. 
 
 " Why not ? " Maraton exclaimed. " The posses- 
 sion of money to spend in luxuries of any sort must 
 add something, at least, to their dignity. It means a 
 lightening of the heart for a moment, an impulse of 
 gladness. Why should we judge? Beer is only a 
 prototype of other things. Then, Selingman, mark 
 this. I brought the men of Lancashire out on strike 
 some few weeks ago, and Sheffield now is following 
 suit. It is a matter of a few shillings a week only, 
 it is true, but I am very careful to tell them always 
 that it is simply a compromise which I am advocating. 
 These small increases are nothing. The operatives 
 have a nature-given right to a share in the product 
 of their labour. In these days their slave hire is 
 thrown at them by an interloping person who calls 
 himself an employer. In the days to come it will 
 be different." 
 
 " You beat time, then ! " Selingman cried. " You
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 245 
 
 head the waves ! My friend Maraton, they are right, 
 those who turned me out of my villa at Versailles and 
 sent me over to you. They were right, indeed! I 
 have business with you, man an inspiration to 
 share. Ours is a great meeting. You know Maxen- 
 dorf?" 
 
 " By name," Maraton admitted, a little startled. 
 
 " A profound thinker," Selingman declared, " a 
 mighty thinker, a giant, a pioneer. I tell you that 
 he sees, Maraton. He has pitched his tent upon the 
 hill-top. What do you know of him ? " 
 
 " Chiefly," Maraton replied, " that he is an aristo- 
 crat, a diplomatist, and the future ambassador here 
 of a country I do not love." 
 
 Selingman drained a glass of champagne before he 
 answered. He lit another of his long, thin cigars and 
 smoked furiously. 
 
 " Aristocrat yes," he assented, " but you do not 
 know Ma^ndorf. He will be a joy to you, man. 
 Oh, he sees ! The day of the millions is coming, and 
 he knows it. On the Continent our middle class isn't 
 like yours. The conflict will never be so terrible. 
 Thank God, our Labour stands already with its feet 
 upon the ground. With us, development is all that is 
 necessary. But you you are up against a cul-de- 
 sac, a black mountain of prejudice and custom. Noth- 
 ing can save you but an earthquake or a revolution, 
 and you know it. You came to England with those 
 ideas, Maraton. You have turned opportunist. It 
 was the only thing left for you. You didn't happen 
 to see the one way out. To-morrow it will be a new 
 day with you. To-morrow we will show you."
 
 246 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 They were rushing into London now. Selingman 
 rose to his feet. 
 
 " At seven o'clock to-morrow I shall fetch you,'* 
 he announced, " that is, if I do not come in the morn- 
 ing. I may come before I may give you the whole 
 day for your own. I make no promise. Your ad- 
 dress write it down. I have no memory." 
 
 Maraton wrote it and passed it over. Selingman 
 thrust it into his pocket. 
 
 " I go to work," he cried. " Some part of the 
 genius of your voice shall tremble to-morrow in the 
 genius of my prose. I promise you that. * Listen,' 
 our friend Maxendorf would say, ' to the vainest man 
 in Europe ! ' But I know. No man knows himself 
 save himself. Adieu ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 The lengthy reports of his Sheffield visit and 
 speeches, of which the newspapers made great capital, 
 an extraordinary impression of the same in Seling- 
 man's wonderful prose, and the caprice of a halfpenny 
 paper, made Maraton suddenly the most talked about 
 man in England. A notoriety which he would have 
 done much to have avoided was forced upon him. 
 Early on the morning following his return, his house 
 was besieged with a little stream of journalists, pho- 
 tographers, politicians, men and women of all orders 
 and degrees, seeking for a few moments^ interview 
 with the man of the hour. Maraton retreated pre- 
 cipitately into his smaller study at the back of the 
 house, and left Aaron to cope as well as he might with 
 the assailing host. Every now and then the telephone 
 bell rang, and Aaron made his report. 
 
 " There are fourteen men here who want to inter- 
 view you," he announced, " all from good papers. 
 If you won't be interviewed, some of them want a 
 photograph." 
 
 " Send them away," Maraton directed. " Tell 
 them the only photograph I ever had taken is in the 
 hands of the Chicago police." 
 
 " There's the editor here himself from the Bir 
 Weekly."
 
 2 4 8 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 " My compliments and excuses," Maraton replied. 
 " I will be interviewed by no one." 
 
 " There's a representative from the Oracle here," 
 Aaron continued, " who wants to know your exact 
 position in connection with the Labour Party. What 
 shall I say?" 
 
 " Tell him to apply to Mr. Dale ! " Maraton an- 
 swered. 
 
 " Mr. Foley and Lady Elisabeth Landon are out- 
 side in a car. Mr. Foley's compliments, and if you 
 could spare a moment, they would be glad to come in 
 and see you." 
 
 Maraton hesitated. 
 
 " You had better let them come in." 
 
 " Shall I go? " Julia asked. 
 
 Maraton shook his head. 
 
 "Stay where you are," he enjoined. "Perhaps 
 they will go sooner, if they see that I am at work with 
 you." 
 
 Mr. Foley was in his best and happiest mood. He 
 shook hands heartily with Maraton. Elisabeth said 
 nothing at all, but Maraton was conscious of one 
 swift look into his eyes, and of the fact that her 
 fingers rested in his several seconds longer than was 
 necessary. 
 
 " We are profoundly mortified, both my niece and 
 I," Mr. Foley said. " Never have I had so many 
 journalists on my doorstep, even on that notorious 
 Thursday when they thought that I was going to 
 declare war. I really fancy, Maraton, that they are 
 going to make a celebrity of you. Have you seen the 
 papers ? "
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 249 
 
 " I have read Selingman's sketch," Maraton re- 
 plied. 
 
 " They say," Mr. Foley went on, " that he wrote 
 all night at the office in Fleet Street, and that his 
 sheets were flung into type as he wrote them. Seling- 
 man, too the great Selingman! You know him? " 
 
 " He travelled down from Sheffield with me last 
 night," Maraton answered. 
 
 " A more dangerous person even than you," Mr. 
 Foley observed, " and an Anglophobe. Never mind, 
 what did we call about, Elisabeth ? " 
 
 " Well, we were really on our way to the city," his 
 niece reminded him. " It was you who suggested, 
 when we were at the top of the Square, that we should 
 call in and see Mr. Maraton." 
 
 " There was something in my mind," Mr. Foley 
 persisted. " I remember. Next Friday is the last 
 day of the session, you know, Mr. Maraton. We 
 want you to go down to Scotland with us for a week." 
 
 Maraton shook his head. 
 
 " It is very kind of you," he said, " but I shall take 
 no holiday. I need none. I have endless work here 
 during the vacation. There are some industries I 
 have scarcely looked into at all. And there is my 
 Bill, and the draft of another one to follow. Thank 
 you very much, Mr. Foley, all the same." 
 
 Elisabeth set down the illustrated paper which she 
 had picked up. She looked across at Maraton. 
 
 " Don't you think for one week, Mr. Maraton," 
 she suggested softly, " that you could bring your 
 work with you. You could have a study in a quiet 
 corner of the house, and if you did not care to bring
 
 250 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 a secretary, I would promise you the services of an 
 amateur one." 
 
 Perhaps by accident, as she spoke, she glanced 
 across at Julia, and perhaps by accident Julia at that 
 moment happened to glance up. Their eyes met. 
 Julia, from the grim loneliness of her own world, 
 looked steadfastly at this exquisite type of the things 
 in life which she hated. 
 
 " You are very kind," Maraton repeated, " but in- 
 deed I must not think of it. It seems to me," he went 
 on, after a slight hesitation, " that every time lately 
 when I have stood at the halting of two ways, and 
 have had to make up my mind which to follow, I have 
 been forced by circumstances to choose the easier way. 
 This time, at least, my duty is quite plain. I have 
 work to do in London which I cannot neglect." 
 
 Elisabeth picked up the paper which she had set 
 down the moment before. Her eyes had been quick 
 to appreciate the smothered fierceness of Julia's gaze. 
 At Maraton she did not glance. 
 
 " Well, I am sorry," Mr. Foley said. " You are a 
 young man now, Maraton, but one works the better 
 for a change. I didn't come to talk shop, but you've 
 set a nice hornet's nest about our heads up in Shef- 
 field." 
 
 " There are many more to follow," Maraton as- 
 sured him. 
 
 Mr. Foley chuckled. His sense of humour was in- 
 domitable. 
 
 " If there is one thing in the Press this morning," 
 he declared, " more pronounced than the diatribes 
 upon your speech, it is the number of compliments
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 251 
 
 paid to me for my perspicuity in extending the hand 
 of friendship to the most dangerous political factor 
 at present existent, vide the Oracle. I've wasted 
 many hours arguing with some of my colleagues. If 
 I had known what was coming, I might just as well 
 have sat tight and waited for to-day. I am vindi- 
 cated, whitewashed. Only the Opposition are furious. 
 They are trying to claim you as a natural member of 
 the Radical Party. Shouldn't be surprised if they 
 didn't approach you to-day sometime." 
 
 Maraton smiled. 
 
 " The people I am in the most disgrace with," h 
 observed, " are my own little lot." 
 
 " That needn't worry you," Mr. Foley rejoined. 
 *' Our Labour Members are not a serious body. The 
 forces they represent are all right, but they seem to 
 have a perfectly devilish gift of selecting the wrong 
 representatives. . . . You'll be in the House this 
 afternoon ? " 
 
 "Certainly!" 
 
 " I shall be rather curious to see what sort of a 
 reception they give you," Mr. Foley continued. 
 " You couldn't manage to walk in with me, I suppose ? 
 It would mean such a headline for the Daily Oracle! " 
 
 Elisabeth glanced up from her paper. 
 
 " I am afraid, uncle," she remarked, " that Punch 
 was right when it said that your sense of humour 
 would always prevent your becoming a great poli- 
 tician." 
 
 " Let Punch wait until I claim the title," Mr. Foley 
 retorted, smiling. " No man has ever consented to be 
 Premier who was a great politician in these days,
 
 252 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 at any rate. I doubt, even, whether our friend Mara- 
 ton would be a successful Premier. I fancy that if 
 ever he aspires so high, it will be to the Dictatorship 
 of the new republic." 
 
 Maraton sighed. 
 
 " Even the Oracle" he reminded them, " is con- 
 vinced that I have no personal ambitions." 
 
 Mr. Foley took up his hat. He had been in high 
 good humour throughout the interview. Already he 
 was looking forward to meeting his colleagues. 
 
 " Well, we'll be off, Maraton," he said. " We had 
 no right to come and disturb you at this time in the 
 morning, only we were really anxious to book you 
 for our quiet week in Scotland. Change your mind 
 about it, there's a good fellow. I shall be your help- 
 less prey up there. You could make of me what you 
 would." 
 
 Maraton shook his head very firmly. 
 
 " It is not possible," he answered. " Please do not 
 think that I do not appreciate your hospitality and 
 your kindness, Lady Elisabeth." 
 
 She looked at him for a moment rather curiously. 
 There was something of reproach in her eyes; some- 
 thing, too, which he failed to understand. She did 
 not speak at all. 
 
 " Miss Thurnbrein," Maraton begged, " will you 
 see Mr. Foley and Lady Elisabeth out? It sounds 
 cowardly, doesn't it," he added, " but I really don't 
 think that I dare show myself." 
 
 Julia rose slowly to her feet and passed towards 
 the door, which Maraton was holding open. She 
 lingered outside while Maraton shook hands with his
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 253 
 
 two visitors, then would have hurried on in advance, 
 but that Elisabeth stopped her. 
 
 " Do tell me," she asked, " you are the Miss Thurn- 
 brein who has written so much upon woman labour, 
 aren't you? " 
 
 " I have written one or two articles," Julia replied, 
 looking straight ahead of her. 
 
 " I read one in the National Review" Elisabeth con- 
 tinued, " and another in one of the evening papers. 
 I can't tell you, Miss Thurnbrein, how interested I 
 was." 
 
 Julia turned and looked slowly at her questioner. 
 Her cheeks seemed more pallid than usual, her eyes 
 were full of smouldering fire. 
 
 " I didn't write to interest people," she said calmly. 
 ** I wrote to punish them, to let them know a little of 
 what they were guilty." 
 
 " But surely," Elisabeth protested, " you make 
 some excuse for those who have really no opportunity 
 for finding out? There is a society now, I am told, 
 for watching over the conditions of woman labour in 
 the east end. Is that so really ? " 
 
 " There is such a society," Julia admitted. " I am 
 the secretary of it." 
 
 " You must let me join," Elisabeth begged. 
 " Please do. Won't you come and see me one after- 
 noon any afternoon and tell me all about it? 
 Indeed I am in earnest," she went on, a little puzzled 
 at the other's unresponsiveness. " This isn't just a 
 whim. I am really interested in these matters, but 
 it is so hard to help, unless one is put in the right 
 way."
 
 254 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 " The time has passed," Julia pronounced, " when 
 patronage is of any assistance to such societies as the 
 one we were speaking of. Nothing is of any use 
 now but hard, grim work. We don't want money. 
 We don't need support of any kind whatever. We 
 need work and brains." 
 
 " I am afraid," Elisabeth said, as she held out her 
 hand, " that you think I am incapable of either." 
 
 Julia's lips were tightly compressed. She made 
 no reply. Mr. Foley glanced back at her curiously 
 as they stepped into the car. 
 
 " What a singularly forbidding young woman ! " 
 he remarked. 
 
 Elisabeth shrugged her shoulders. It is given to 
 women to understand much ! . . . The car glided off. 
 As they neared the corner of the Square, they passed a 
 stout, foreign-looking man with an enormous head, a 
 soft grey hat set far back, a quantity of fair hair, and 
 the ingenuous, eager look of a child. He was hurry- 
 ing towards the corner house and scarcely glanced in 
 their direction. Mr. Foley, however, leaned forward 
 with interest. 
 
 "Who is that strange-looking person? " Elisabeth 
 'asked. 
 
 Mr. Foley became impressive. 
 
 " One of the greatest writers and philosophers of 
 the day," he replied. " I expect he is on his way 
 to see Maraton. That was Henry Selingman."
 
 CHAPTER XXVHI 
 
 Selingman took little heed of the cordon around 
 Maraton. He brushed them all to one side, and 
 when at last confronted by the final barrier, in the 
 shape of Julia, he only patted her gently upon the 
 back. 
 
 " Ah, but my dear child," he exclaimed, " you do 
 not understand! Listen. I raise my voice, I shout 
 like this * Maraton, it is I who am here Seling- 
 man ! ' You see, he will come if he is within hearing. 
 You know of me, you pale-faced child? You have 
 heard of Selingman, is it not so? " 
 
 Before Julia could answer, the door of the study 
 was opened. 
 
 " Come in," Maraton called out from an invisible 
 place. 
 
 Selingman, with a little bow of triumph to Julia, 
 passed down the passage and into the library. He 
 threw his hat upon the sofa and held out both his 
 hands to Maraton. Julia, who had followed him, 
 sank into a chair before her typewriter. 
 
 " I have made you famous, my friend," he de- 
 clared. " You may quote these words in after life 
 as representing the full sublimity of my conceit, but 
 it is true. Have you read my ' Appreciation ' in the 
 Oracle? " 
 
 " I have," Maraton admitted, smiling.
 
 256 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 " The real thing," Selingman continued, " crisp 
 and crackling with genius. As they read it, the pho- 
 tographers took down their cameras, the editors whis- 
 pered to their journalists to be off to Russell Square, 
 the ladies began to pen their cards of invitation." 
 
 " That's all very well," Maraton remarked, a little 
 grimly, " but where do I come in ? I have no time for 
 the journalists, I refuse to be photographed, and I 
 am not likely to accept the invitations. It takes my 
 two secretaries half their time to wade through my 
 correspondence and to decide which of it is to be 
 pitched into the waste-paper basket. I am not a 
 dealer in quack remedies, or an actor. I don't want 
 advertisement." 
 
 " Pooh, my friend ! pooh ! " Selingman retorted, 
 drawing out his worn leather case and thrusting one 
 of the long black cigars into his mouth. " Every- 
 thing that is spontaneous in life is good for you 
 even advertisement. But listen to my news. It is 
 great news, believe me. ... A match, please." 
 
 Maraton struck a vesta and handed it to him. 
 Selingman transferred the flame to a piece of paper 
 from the waste-paper basket and puffed contentedly 
 at his cigar. 
 
 " I light not cigars with a flavour like this, with 
 a wax vesta," he explained. "Where was I? Oh, I 
 know the news ! This morning I have received a 
 message. Maxendorf has left for England." 
 
 Maraton smiled. 
 
 " Is that all? " he said. " I could have told you 
 that myself. The fact is announced in all the morn- 
 ing papers."
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 257 
 
 " He will be at the Ritz Hotel to-night," Selingman 
 continued, unruffled. " When he arrives, I shall be 
 there. We speak together for an hour and then I 
 come for you." 
 
 " I shall be glad to meet Maxendorf," Maraton 
 agreed quietly. " He is a great man. But don't 
 you think for his first few days in England it would 
 be better to leave him alone, so far as I am con- 
 cerned? " 
 
 " Later I will remind you of those words," Seling- 
 man declared. " For a genius you see no further 
 than the end of your nose. They tell me that when 
 you landed, there were prophets in the East End 
 who rose up and shouted ' Maraton is come ! Mar- 
 aton is here ! ' No more just the simple announce- 
 ment as though that fact alone were changing life. 
 Very well. I will be your prophet and you shall be 
 the people. I will say to you, as they cried to the 
 Children of Israel groaning under their toil Max- 
 endorf has come ! Maxendorf is here ! " 
 
 Maraton was silent for a moment. He was sitting 
 on the edge of the table, with folded arms. His 
 visitor was pacing up and down the room, blowing 
 out dense volumes of smoke. 
 
 " You have more in your mind, Selingman, than 
 you have told me," he said. 
 
 " What is there that is hidden from the eye of 
 genius?" Selingman cried, with a theatrical wave of 
 the hand. " More than I have told you indeed 
 more than I shall tell you. One thing, at least, I 
 have learnt in my struggles with the pen, and that is 
 to avoid the anti-climax. It is a great thing to re-
 
 258 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 member that. So I am dumb, I speak no more. . . . 
 Why don't you send your poor little secretary out 
 for a walk? Mademoiselle, forgive me, but he works 
 you too hard." 
 
 She looked up at him, smiling. 
 
 " I worked very much harder before I came here," 
 she answered quietly. 
 
 " I am fortunate in my secretary," Maraton 
 interposed. " This is Miss Julia Thurnbrein, Seling- 
 man. I don't suppose you read our reviews, but Miss 
 Thurnbrein is an authority on woman labour." 
 
 " I read nothing," Selingman declared, moving 
 over and grasping her by the hand. " I read nothing. 
 People are my books. I am forty-five years old. 
 I have done with reading. I know a great deal, I 
 have read a great deal ; I read no more. Miss Julia 
 Thurnbrein, you say. Well, I like the name of 
 Julia. Only, young lady, you would do better to 
 spend a little more time with the roses, and a little 
 less under the roofs of this grey city. Youth, you 
 know, youth is everything. You work best for others 
 by realising the joys of life yourself. I, too, am a 
 philanthropist, Miss Julia I don't like your other 
 name I, too, think and write for others. I, too, 
 have dreams of a millennium, of days when the huge 
 wheel shall be driven to a different tune, and faces 
 be lifted to the skies that hang now towards the 
 gutters. But details annoy me, details I cannot mas- 
 ter. I do not want to know how many sufferers 
 there are in the world and what particular sum they 
 starve upon. I leave others to do that work. I only 
 point forward to the day of emancipation. Put
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 259 
 
 your hand in mine and I will show you in time where 
 the clouds will first break." 
 
 Julia smiled at him a little sadly. 
 
 " Perhaps it is as well," she said, " that we have 
 champions who do not care for detail. It is detail 
 and the sight of suffering which sap all the enthusi- 
 asms out of us before our time." 
 
 Selingman frowned at her angrily. He blew out 
 another cloud of smoke. 
 
 " You make me angry," he asserted. " I love your 
 sex, I adore womanhood. I look upon a beautiful 
 woman as a gift to the world. Beauty is a gift to 
 be made much of, to be nourished, to be glorified. 
 You' are tired, young woman. You work too 
 hard. You have the rare gift has any one ever 
 told you that you are beautiful ? " 
 
 Julia stared at him, her lips a little parted, half 
 angry, half wondering. 
 
 " Look at her," Selingman continued, turning to 
 Maraton. " She has the slim body, the long, delicate 
 figure of those Botticellis we all love except the 
 Russians. I never yet met a Russian who could ap- 
 preciate a Botticelli. And her eyes look at them, 
 man. And you let her sit there till the hollows are 
 forming in her cheeks. Be ashamed of yourself. 
 Take her out into the country. One works just as 
 well in the sunshine. You do better work if you can 
 smell flowers growing around you while your brain 
 is active. Lend her to me for a week. I'll take her 
 to my cottage in the Ardennes. There I live with 
 the sun breakfast at sunrise, to bed at sunset. I 
 will dictate to you, Miss Julia dictate beautiful
 
 2 6o A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 things. You shall be proud always. You shall say 
 ' I have worked for Selingman. Conceited ass ! ' 
 you will probably add. Thank Heavens that I am 
 conceited ! Nothing is so splendid in life as to know 
 your own worth. Nothing makes so much for happi- 
 ness. . . . Maraton, where shall I find you to- 
 night?" 
 
 " In the House of Commons, probably," Maraton 
 replied. " But take my advice. Leave Maxendorf 
 alone for a few days." 
 
 " We will see we will see," Selingman went on, 
 a little impatiently. " Come, I have nothing to do 
 nothing whatever. I came to London to see you, 
 Maraton. You must put up with me. Work put 
 it away. The sun shines. Let us all go into the 
 country. I will get a car. Or what of the river? 
 Perhaps not. I am too restless, I cannot sit still. I 
 will walk about always. And I cannot swim. We 
 will take a car and sometimes we will walk. I go to 
 fetch it now, eh? " 
 
 Maraton glanced helplessly at Julia. They both 
 laughed. 
 
 " I have to be back at four o'clock," the former 
 said. " I have an appointment at the House of 
 Commons then." 
 
 " Excellent ! " Selingman declared. " I go there 
 with you. Your House of Commons always fasci- 
 nates me. I hear you speak, perhaps? No? What 
 does it matter? I will hear the others drone. I go 
 to fetch a car." 
 
 Maraton held out his hand. 
 
 " I have a car," he observed. " It is waiting now
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 261 
 
 at the back entrance. You had better get your things 
 on, Miss Thurnbrein. I can see that we have come 
 under the influence of a master spirit." 
 
 She looked at the pile of letters by her side, but 
 Maraton only shook his head. 
 
 " We must parody his own phrase and declare that 
 * Selingman is here ! ' " he said. " Go and put your 
 things on and tell Aaron. We will steal out like 
 conspirators at the back door." 
 
 They lunched at a roadside inn in Buckingham- 
 shire, an inn ivy-covered, with a lawn behind, and a 
 garden full of cottage flowers. Selingman with his 
 own hands dragged out the table from the little sit- 
 ting-room, through the open windows to a shaded 
 corner of the lawn, drew the cork from a bottle of 
 wine, and taking off his coat, started to make a 
 salad. 
 
 f< Insects everywhere," he remarked cheerfully. 
 " Hold your parasol over my salad, please, Miss 
 Julia. So! What does 'it matter? Where there 
 are flowers and trees there must be insects. Let 
 them live their day of life." 
 
 " So long as we don't eat them ! " Julia protested. 
 
 " I have tasted insects in South America which 
 were delicious," Selingman assured them. " There 
 leave your parasol over the salad, and, Maraton, 
 move the ice-pail a little more into the shade. Now, 
 while they set the luncheon, we will walk in that 
 little flower garden, and I will tell you, if you like, 
 a story of mine I once wrote, the story of two roses. 
 I published it, alas! It is so hard to save even our 
 most beautiful thoughts from the vulgarity of print,
 
 262 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 in these days where everything love and wine, and 
 even the roses themselves cost money. Bah ! " 
 
 " The story, please," Julia begged. 
 
 He walked in the middle and took an arm of each 
 of his companions. 
 
 " So you would hear my little story ? " he ex- 
 claimed. " Then listen." 
 
 They obeyed. Presently he forgot himself. His 
 eyes were half-closed, his thoughts seemed to have 
 wandered into the strangest places. As his allegory 
 proceeded, he seemed to drift away from all knowl- 
 edge of his immediate surroundings. He chose his 
 words always with the most exquisite and precise 
 care. They listened, entranced. Then suddenly he 
 stopped short in the path. 
 
 " For half an hour have I been giving of myself," 
 he declared. " Almost I faint. Come." 
 
 He tightened his grasp upon their arms and 
 started walking with short, abrupt footsteps and 
 great haste for the luncheon table. 
 
 " Fool that I am ! " he muttered. ** It is one 
 o'clock, and I lunch always at half-past twelve. I 
 must eat quickly. See, the waiter looks at us sorrow- 
 fully. What of the omelette, I wonder? Come, 
 Miss Julia, at my right hand there. Ah! was I not 
 right? The roses are creeping already creeping 
 into their proper place. Sit back in your chair and 
 eat slowly and drink the yellow wine, and listen to 
 the humming of those bees. So soon you will be- 
 come normal, a woman, just what you should be. 
 Heavens! It is well that I came to see Maraton. 
 When I saw you this morning in that room, I said
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 263 
 
 to myself * There is a human creature who half 
 lives. What a sin to half live!' . . . Taste that 
 salad, Maraton. Taste it, man, and admit that it is 
 well that I came." 
 
 They were alone in the garden the inn was a 
 little way off the main road and they had discovered 
 it entirely by accident. Both Julia and Maraton 
 yielded gracefully enough to the influence of their 
 companion's personality. 
 
 " Whether it is well for us or not," Maraton re- 
 marked, as he watched the wine flow into his glass, 
 " to yield up one's will like this, to become even as 
 a docile child, I do not know, but it is very pleasant. 
 It is an hour of detachment." 
 
 " It is the secret of youth, the secret of life, the 
 secret of joy," Selingman declared. " Detachment 
 is the word. Life would make slaves of all of us, 
 if one did not sometimes square one's shoulders and 
 say ' No, thank you, I have had enough ! Good- 
 bye! I return presently.' One needs a will, per- 
 haps, but then, what is life without will? I myself 
 was at work. The greatest theatrical manager in 
 the world kept sentry before my door. The greatest 
 genius who ever trod upon the stage sent me frantic 
 messages every few hours. Then they spoke to me 
 of Maraton. I heard the cry ' Maraton is here ! ' 
 I heard the thunder from across the seas. Up from 
 my desk, out from my room hysterics, entreaties, 
 nothing stopped me. No luggage worth mentioning. 
 Away I come, to London, to Sheffield what a place ! 
 To-morrow to-morrow or the next day I return, 
 full of life and vigour. It is splendid. I broke
 
 264 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 away. No one else could have done it. I left them 
 in tears. What did I care? It is for myself for 
 myself I do these things. Unless I myself am at 
 my best, what have I to give the world? Miss 
 Julia, your health! To the roses, and may they 
 never leave your cheeks! No, don't go yet. There 
 are strawberries coming." 
 
 Maraton and his host sat together for a few mo- 
 ments in the garden before they started on their 
 return journey. Selingman leaned across the table. 
 He had forgotten to put on his coat, and he sat 
 unabashed in his shirt sleeves. He had drunk a 
 good deal of wine, and the little beads of perspiration 
 stood out upon his forehead. 
 
 " Maraton," he said, " you need me. You are like 
 the others. When the fire has touched their eyes 
 and indeed they see the things that are, they fall on 
 their knees and they tear away at the weeds and rub- 
 bish that cumber the earth, and they never lift their 
 eyes, and soon their frame grows weary and their 
 heart cold. Be wise, man. The mark is upon you. 
 Those live best and work best in this world who have 
 a soul for its beauties. Women, for instance," he 
 went on, smoking furiously. " What help do you 
 make of women ? None ! You sit at one end of the 
 table, your secretary at the other. You don't look 
 at her. She might have pig's eyes, for anything you 
 know about it. Idiot ! And she not quite as bad, 
 perhaps. Women feel a little, you know, that they 
 don't show. Why not marry, Maraton? No? 
 Perhaps you are right. And yet women are won- 
 derful. You can't do your greatest work, Maraton,
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 265 
 
 you never will reach your greatest work, unless a 
 woman's hand is in yours." 
 
 They rode back to London in comparative silence. 
 Selingman frankly and openly slept, with his grey 
 hat on the back of his head, his untidy feet upon 
 the opposite cushions, his mouth wide open. Mara- 
 ton more than once found himself watching Julia 
 covertly. There was no doubt that in her strange, 
 quiet way she was beautiful. As he sat and looked 
 at her, his thoughts travelled back to the little gar- 
 den, the sheltered corner under the trees, the curious 
 sense of relaxation which in that short hour Selingman 
 had inspired. Was the man indeed right, his philoso- 
 phy sound? Was there indeed wisdom in the loosen- 
 ing of the bonds? He met her eyes suddenly, and 
 she smiled at him. With her well, he scarcely 
 dared to tell himself that he knew how it was. He 
 closed his eyes again. A thought had come to him 
 sweeter than any yet. 
 
 As they neared London, Selingman awoke, smiled 
 blandly upon them, brushed the cigar ash from his 
 coat and waistcoat, put on his hat and looked about 
 him with interest. 
 
 " So we are arrived," he said presently. " The 
 Houses of Parliament, eh? I enter with you, Mara- 
 ton. You find me a corner where I sleep while the 
 others speak, and wake at the sound of your voice. 
 Afterwards, late to-night, we shall go to Maxen- 
 dorf."
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 It happened to be a quiet evening in the House, 
 and Maraton and Selingman dined together at a 
 little before eight o'clock. Selingman's personality 
 was too unusual to escape attention, and as his iden- 
 tity became known, a good many passers-by looked 
 at them curiously. Some one sent word to Ma*. 
 Foley of their presence, and very soon he came in 
 and joined them. 
 
 " Six years ago this month, Mr. Selingman," the 
 Prime Minister reminded him, " we met at Madame 
 Hermene's in Paris. You were often there in those 
 days." 
 
 Selingman nodded vigorously. 
 
 " I remember it perfectly," he said " perfectly. 
 It was a wonderful evening. An English Cabinet 
 Minister, the President of France, Coquelin, Ros- 
 tand, and I myself were there. A clever woman! 
 She knew how to attract. In England there is noth- 
 ing of the sort, eh? " 
 
 " Nothing," Mr. Foley admitted. " I am going 
 to beg you both to come on to me to-night. My 
 niece is receiving a few friends. But I can promise 
 you nothing of the same class of attraction, Mr. 
 Selingman." 
 
 " We cannot come," Selingman declared, without 
 hesitation. " I take my friend Maraton somewhere.
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 267 
 
 As we sit here, Mr. Foley, we have spoken of poli- 
 tics. You are a great man. If any one can lift 
 your country from the rut along which she is travel- 
 ling, you will do it. A Unionist Prime Minister and 
 you hold out the hand to Maraton ! But what fore- 
 sight ! What acumen ! You see beyond the thunder- 
 clouds the things that we have seen. Not only do 
 you see them, but you have the courage to follow 
 your convictions. What a mess you are making 
 of Parties!" 
 
 Mr. Foley smiled. 
 
 " Ah, well, you see," he said, " I am no politician. 
 It is the one claim I have upon posterity that I am 
 the first non-politician who ever became Prime Min- 
 ister." 
 
 " Excellent ! Excellent ! " Selingman murmured. 
 
 " Maraton, alas ! " Mr. Foley continued, " is only 
 half a convert. As yet he wears his yoke heavily." 
 
 " A queer place for him," Selingman declared. 
 " I looked down and saw him there this evening. I 
 listened to the dozen words he spoke. He seemed to 
 me rather like a lawyer, who, having a dull case, 
 says what he has to say and sits down. Does he 
 do any real good here, Mr. Foley ? " 
 
 " It is from these walls," the Prime Minister re- 
 minded him, " that the laws of the country are 
 framed." 
 
 Selingman shook his head slowly. 
 
 " Academically correct," he admitted, " and yet, 
 walls of brick and stone may crumble and split. 
 The laws which endure come into being through the 
 power of the people."
 
 268 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 "Don't throw cold water upon my compromise," 
 Mr. Foley begged. " We are hoping for great 
 things. We are fighting the class against which you 
 have written so splendidly ; we are fighting the bour- 
 geoisie, tooth and nail. One thing is certainly 
 written that if Maraton here stands by my side 
 for the next seven years, Labour will have thrown 
 off one, at least, of the shackles that bind her. Isn't 
 it better to release her slowly and gradually, than to 
 destroy her altogether by trying more violent 
 means ? " 
 
 " Ah, who knows ! " Selingman remarked enig- 
 matically. " Who knows ! . . . And what of the rest 
 of the evening? Are there more laws to be made 
 more speeches?" 
 
 " Finished," Mr. Foley replied. " There is noth- 
 ing more to be done. That is why I am proposing 
 that you two men go to your rooms, make yourselves 
 look as much like Philistines as you can, and come 
 and pay your respects to my niece. Lady Elisabeth 
 is complaining a little about you, Maraton," he went 
 on. " You are a rare visitor." 
 
 " Lady Elisabeth is very kind," Maraton mur- 
 mured. 
 
 " I wish that we could come," Selingman said. 
 " If I lived here long, I would bustle our friend 
 Maraton about. To-day I have had him a little 
 way into the country, him and his pale-faced secre- 
 tary, and I have poured sunshine down upon them, 
 and wine, and good things to eat. Oh, they are very 
 narrow, both of them, when they look out at life! 
 Not so am I. I love to feel the great thoughts
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 269 
 
 swinging through my brain, but I love also the good 
 things of life. I love the interludes of careless joys, 
 I love all the pleasant things our bodies were meant 
 to appreciate. Those who do not, they wither early. 
 I do not like pale cheeks. Therefore, I wish that I 
 could stay a little time with this friend of ours. I 
 would see that he paid his respects to all the charm- 
 ing ladies who were ready to welcome him." 
 
 Mr. Foley laughed softly. 
 
 " What a marvellous mixture you would make, 
 you two ! " he observed. ** Your prose and Maraton's 
 eloquence, your philosophy and his tenacity. So 
 you won't come? Well, I am disappointed." 
 
 " We go to see a friend of mine," Selingman an- 
 nounced. " We go to pay our respects to a man 
 famous indeed, a man who will make history in your 
 country." 
 
 Mr. Foley's expression suddenly changed. He 
 leaned a little across the table. 
 
 " Are you speaking of Maxendorf ? " 
 
 Selingman nodded vigorously. 
 
 " Since you have guessed it yes," he admitted. 
 " We go to Maxendorf. I take Maraton there. It 
 will be a great meeting. We three we represent 
 much. A great meeting, indeed." 
 
 Mr. Foley's face was troubled. 
 
 " Maxendorf only arrives to-night," he remarked 
 presently. 
 
 " What matter? " Selingman replied. " He is like 
 me he is tireless, and though his body be weary, 
 his brain is ever working." 
 
 " What do they say on the Continent about his
 
 2 7 o A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 coming? " Mr. Foley enquired. " We thought that 
 he was settled for life in Rome." 
 
 Selingman shook his head portentously. 
 
 " Politics," he declared, " ah ! in the abstract they 
 are wonderful, but in the concrete they do not inter- 
 est me. Maxendorf has come here, doubtless, with 
 great schemes in his mind." 
 
 " Schemes of friendship or of enmity ? " Mr. Foley 
 asked swiftly. 
 
 Selingman's shoulders were hunched. 
 
 " Who can tell ? Who can tell the thoughts which 
 his brain has conceived? Maxendorf is a silent man. 
 He is the first people's champion who has ever held 
 high office in his country. You see, he has the gifts 
 which no one can deny. He moves forward to what- 
 ever place he would occupy, and he takes it. He 
 is in politics as I in literature." 
 
 The man's magnificent egotism passed unnoticed. 
 Curiously enough, the truth of it was so apparent 
 that its expression seemed natural. 
 
 " I must confess," Mr. Foley said quietly, " to 
 you two alone, that I had rather he had come at some 
 other time. Selingman, you are indeed one of the 
 happiest of the earth. You have no responsibilities 
 save the responsibilities you owe to your genius. 
 The only call to which you need listen is the call 
 to give to the world the thoughts and music which 
 beat in your brain. And with us, things are differ- 
 ent. There is the future of a country, the future 
 of an Empire, always at stake, when one sleeps and 
 when one wakes." 
 
 Selingman nodded his head vigorously.
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 271 
 
 " Frankly," he admitted, " I sympathise with you. 
 Responsibility I hate. And yours, Mr. Foley," he 
 added, " is a great one. I am a friend of England. 
 I am a friend of the England who should be. As 
 your country is to-day, I fear that she has very 
 few friends indeed, apart from her own shores. You 
 may gain allies from reasons of policy, but you have 
 not the national gifts which win friendship." 
 
 " How do you account for it ? " Mr. Foley asked 
 him. 
 
 " Your Press, for one tiling," Selingman replied ; 
 " your Press, written for and inspired with the whole 
 spirit of the bourgeoisie. You prate about your 
 Empire, but you've never learnt yet to think im- 
 perially. But there, it is not for this I crossed the 
 Channel. It is to be with Maraton." 
 
 " So long as you do not take him from me, I will 
 not grudge you his company," Mr. Foley remarked, 
 rising. " On the other hand, I would very much 
 rather that you made your bow to my niece to-night 
 than went to Maxendorf." 
 
 Maraton felt suddenly a twinge of something 
 which was almost compunction. Mr. Foley's face 
 was white and tired. He had the air of a man op- 
 pressed with anxieties which he was doing his best to 
 conceal. 
 
 " If I can," he said, " I should like very much 
 to see Lady Elisabeth. Perhaps I shall be in time 
 after our interview with Maxendorf, or before. I 
 will go home and change, on the chance." 
 
 The Prime Minister nodded, but his slightly re- 
 laxed expression seemed to show that he appreciated
 
 272 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 Maraton's intention. Selingman looked after him 
 gloomily as he left the room. 
 
 " What devilish impulse," he muttered, " leads 
 these men to pass into your rotten English politics! 
 It is like a poet trying to navigate a dredger. Bah ! 
 . . . Need you go into that gloomy chamber again, 
 my friend ? " 
 
 Maraton shook his head. 
 
 " I have finished," he declared. " There will be 
 no division." 
 
 " But do you never speak there ? " 
 
 " Up to now I have not uttered more than a dozen 
 words or so," Maraton replied. " You try it your- 
 self try speaking to a crowd of well-dressed, well- 
 fed, smug units of respectability, each with his mind 
 full of his own affairs or the affairs of his constitu- 
 ency. You try it. You wouldn't find the words 
 stream, I can tell you." 
 
 Selingman grunted. 
 
 " And now what now ? " 
 
 " To my rooms to my house," Maraton an- 
 nounced, " while I change." 
 
 " It is good. I shall talk to your secretary. I 
 shall talk to Miss Julia while you disappear. Shall 
 I rob you, my friend ? " 
 
 *' You would rob me of a great deal if you took 
 her away," Maraton answered, " but " 
 
 Selingman interrupted him with a fiercely con- 
 temptuous exclamation. 
 
 " You have it the rotten, insular conceit of 
 these Englishmen! You think that she would not 
 come? Do you think that if I were to say to her,
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 273 
 
 * Come and listen while I make garlands of words, 
 while I take you through the golden doors ! ' do 
 you think that she would not put her hand in mine? 
 Fancy to live in my fairy chamber, to listen while 
 I give shape and substance to all that I conceive 
 what woman would refuse ! " 
 
 Maraton laughed softly as they passed out into 
 the Palace yard. 
 
 " Try Julia," he suggested.
 
 CHAPTER XXX 
 
 Selingman had the air of one who has achieved 
 a personal triumph as, with his arm in Maraton's, 
 he led him towards the man whom they had come 
 to visit. 
 
 " Behold ! " he exclaimed. " It is a triumph, this ! 
 It is a thing to be remembered ! I have brought you 
 two together ! " 
 
 Maraton's first impressions of Maxendorf were 
 curiously mixed. He saw before him a tall, lanky 
 figure of a man, dressed in sombre black, a man of 
 dark complexion, with beardless face and tanned 
 skin plentifully freckled. His hair and eyes were 
 coal black. He held out his hand to Maraton, but 
 the smile with which he had welcomed Selingman had 
 passed from his lips. 
 
 " You are not the Maraton I expected some day 
 to meet," he said, a little bluntly, " and yet I am 
 glad to know you." 
 
 Selingman shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " Max my friend Max, do not be peevish," he 
 begged. " I tell you that he is the Maraton of 
 whom we have spoken together. I have heard him. 
 I have been to Sheffield and listened. Don't be preju- 
 diced, Max. Wait." 
 
 Maxendorf motioned them to seats and stood with 
 his finger upon the bell.
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 275 
 
 " Yes," Selingman assented, " we will drink with 
 you. You breathe of the Rhine, my friend. I see 
 myself sitting with you in your terraced garden, 
 drinking Moselle wine out of cut glasses. So it shall 
 be. We will fall into the atmosphere. What a pal- 
 ace you live in, Max! Is it because you are an am- 
 bassador that they must house you so splendidly? " 
 
 Maxendorf glanced around him. He was in one 
 of the best suites in the hotel, but he had the air of 
 one who was only then, for the first time, made aware 
 of the fact. 
 
 " These things are done for me," he said care- 
 lessly. " It seems I have come before I was expected. 
 The Embassy is scarcely ready for occupation." 
 
 He ordered wine from the waiter and exchanged 
 personal reminiscences with Selingman until it was 
 brought. Selingman grunted with satisfaction. 
 
 " Two bottles," he remarked. " Come, I like that. 
 A less thoughtful man would have ordered one first 
 and the other afterwards. The period of waiting 
 for the second bottle would have destroyed the appe- 
 tite. Quite an artist, my friend Max. And the 
 wine well, we shall see." 
 
 He raised the glass to his lips with the air of a 
 connoisseur. 
 
 " It will do," he decided, setting it down empty 
 and lighting one of his black cigars. " Now let us 
 talk. Or shall I, for a change, be silent and let you 
 talk? To-day my tongue has been busy. Maraton 
 is a silent man, and he has a silent secretary with 
 great eyes behind which lurk fancies and dreams the 
 poor little thing has never been encouraged to speak
 
 276 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 of. A silent man Maraton. Rather like you, 
 Max. Which of you will talk the more, I wonder? 
 I shall be dumb." 
 
 " It will be I who will talk," Maxendorf asserted. 
 " I, because I have a mission, things to explain to 
 our friend here, if he will but listen." 
 
 " Listen of course he will listen ! " Selingman 
 interrupted. " You two what was it the Oracle 
 called you both the world's deliverers. Put your 
 heads together and decide how you are going to do 
 it. The people over here, Max, are rotting in their 
 kennels. Sink-holes they live in. Live! What a 
 word!" 
 
 " If you indeed have something to say to me," 
 Maraton proposed, " let us each remember who we 
 are. There is no need for preambles. I know you 
 to be a people's man. We have all watched your 
 rise. We have all marvelled at it." 
 
 " A Socialist statesman in the stiffest-necked 
 country of Europe," Selingman muttered. " Mar- 
 velled at it, indeed ! " 
 
 " I am where I am," Maxendorf declared, " be- 
 cause the world is governed by laws, and in the main 
 they are laws of justice and right. The people of 
 my country fifty years ago were as deep in the mire 
 as the people of your country to-day. Their liber- 
 ation has already dawned. That is why I stand 
 where I do. Your people, alas! are still dwellers in 
 the caves. The moment for you has not yet arrived. 
 When I heard that Maraton had come to England, 
 I changed all my plans. I said to myself ' I will 
 go to Maraton and I will show him how he may lead
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 277 
 
 his people to the light.' And then I heard other 
 things." 
 
 " Continue," Maraton said simply. 
 
 Maxendorf rose to his feet. He came a little 
 nearer to Maraton. He stood looking down at him 
 with folded arms a lank, gaunt figure, the angular 
 lines of his body and limbs accentuated by his black 
 clothes and black tie. 
 
 <k It came upon me like a thunderbolt," Maxendorf 
 proceeded. " I heard unexpectedly that Maraton 
 had entered Parliament, had placed his hand in the 
 hand of a Minister not even the leader of the 
 people's Party. You do not read the Press of my 
 country, perhaps. You did not hear across the seas 
 the groan which came from the hearts of my chil- 
 dren. I said to myself * The Maraton whom we 
 knew of exists no longer, yet I will go and see.' ' 
 
 Maraton moved in his chair a little uneasily. He 
 felt suddenly as though he were a prisoner at the 
 bar, and this man his judge. 
 
 " You do not understand the circumstances which 
 I found existing on my arrival here," Maraton ex- 
 plained. " You do not understand the promises 
 which I have received from Mr. Foley, and which 
 he is already carrying into effect. You read of the 
 Lancashire strike? " 
 
 Maxendorf nodded his long head slowly but said 
 nothing. 
 
 " The settlement of that," Maraton continued, 
 " was arranged before I spoke to the people. It is 
 the same with Sheffield. For the first time, the Par- 
 liament of this country has passed a measure com-
 
 278 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 pelling the manufacturers to recognise and treat 
 with the demands of the people. Trade Unionism 
 has been lifted to an entirely different level. There 
 are three Bills now being drafted people's Bills. 
 Revolutionary measures they would have been called, 
 a thousand years ago. Every industry in the coun- 
 try will have its day. In the next ten years Capital 
 will have earned many millions less, and those many 
 millions will have gone to the labouring classes." 
 
 " Is it you who speak," Maxendorf asked grimly, 
 " or is this another man a sophist living in the 
 shadow of Maraton's fame? Is there anything of 
 the truth, anything of the great compelling truth in 
 this piecemeal legislation? Is it in this way that the 
 freedom of a country can be gained? One gathered 
 that the Maraton who sent his message across the 
 seas had different plans." 
 
 " I had," Maraton admitted, " but the time came 
 when I was forced to ask myself whether they were 
 not rather the plans of the dreamer and the theorist, 
 when I was forced to ask myself whether I was justi- 
 fied in destroying this generation for the sake of 
 those to come. Life, after all, is a marvellous gift. 
 You and I may believe in immortality, but who can 
 be sure? It is easy enough to play chess, but when 
 the pawns are human lives, who would not hesitate? " 
 
 Maxendorf sighed. 
 
 "I cannot talk with you, Maraton," he said. 
 
 7 
 
 " You will not speak with me honestly. You came, 
 you landed on these shores with an inspired idea 
 something magnificent, something worthy. You have 
 substituted for it the time-worn methods of all the
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 279 
 
 reformers since the days of Adam, who have parted 
 with their principles and dabbled in sentimental 
 altruism. Piecemeal legislation what can it do ? " 
 
 " It can build," Maraton declared. " It can build, 
 generation by generation. It can produce a saner 
 race, and as the light comes, so the truth will flow 
 in upon the minds of all." 
 
 " An illusion ! " Selingman interrupted, with a 
 sudden fierceness in his tone. " Once, Maraton, you 
 looked at life sanely enough. Are you sure that 
 to-day you have not put on the poisoned spectacles? 
 Don't you know the end of these spasmodic reforms ? 
 You pass, your influence passes, your mantle is 
 buried in your grave, and the country slips back, 
 and the people suffer, and the great wheel grinds 
 them into bone and powder just as surely a century 
 hence as a century ago. Man, you don't start right. 
 If you would restore a ruined and neglected garden, 
 you must first destroy, make a bonfire of the weeds, 
 prepare your soil. Then, in the springtime, fresh 
 flowers will blossom, the trees will give leaf, the birds 
 who have deserted a ruined and fruitless waste will 
 return and sing once more the song of life. But 
 there must be destruction, Maraton. You yourself 
 preached it once, preached fire and the sword. Some- 
 thing has gone from you since those days/ Compro- 
 mise the spirit of compromise you call it. How 
 one hates the sound of it! Bah! Man, you are 
 on a lower level, when you talk the smug talk of 
 to-day. I am disappointed in you. Maxendorf is 
 disappointed in you. You are riding down the easy; 
 way on to the sandbanks of failure."
 
 280 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 " Your garden," Maraton rejoined, with an answer- 
 ing note of passion in his tone, " would never have 
 blossomed again if you had driven the plough across 
 it, ripped up its fruit trees, torn up its neglected 
 plants by ruthless force. You must plant fresh seed 
 and grow new trees. Then there's another nation, 
 another world. What about your responsibilities to 
 the present one? Isn't it great to save what is, 
 rather than to destroy for the sake of those who have 
 neither toiled nor suffered? I thought as you once. 
 The philosopher thinks like that in his study. Stand 
 before those people, look into their white, labour- 
 worn faces, feel with them, sorrow with them for a 
 little time, and I tell you that your hand will falter 
 before it drives the plough. You will raise your eyes 
 to heaven and pray that you may see some way of 
 bringing help to them to them who live the help 
 for which they crave. Haven't they a right to their 
 lives? Who gives us a mandate to sweep them away 
 for the sake of the unborn ? " 
 
 " You have become a sentimentalist, Maraton," 
 Maxendorf declared grimly. " The soft places in 
 your heart have led you to forget for a moment the 
 inexorable laws. Let us pass from these generalities. 
 Let us speak of things such as you had at first 
 intended. I know what was in your heart. You 
 meant to pass from Birmingham to Glasgow, to 
 preach the holy war of Labour, a giant crusade. 
 You meant to close the mills, to stop the wheels, to 
 blank the forges and rake out the furnaces of the 
 country. You meant to place your finger upon its 
 arteries and stop their beating. You meant to turn
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 281 
 
 the people loose upon their oppressors. Though 
 they must perish in their thousands, yet you meant 
 to show them the naked truth, to show them of what 
 they are being deprived, to show them the irresistible 
 laws of justice, so that for very shame they must 
 drop their tools and stand for their rights. Why 
 didn't you do it? " 
 
 " I have told you," Maraton answered. 
 
 " Yes, you have told us," Maxendorf continued. 
 " Supposing there were still a way by which even 
 this present generation could reap the benefit? Are 
 you great enough, Maraton, to listen to me, I won- 
 der? That is what I ask myself since you have 
 become a Party politician, a friend of Ministers, 
 since you have joined in the puppet dance of the 
 world. See to what I have brought my people. In 
 ten years' time I tell you that nearly every industry 
 in my country will be conducted upon a profit-shar- 
 ing basis." 
 
 " You have brought them to this," Maraton re- 
 minded him swiftly, " by peaceful methods." 
 
 " For me there were no other needed," Maxendorf 
 urged. " For you the case is different. If you are 
 one of those who love to strut about and boast of 
 your nationality, if you are one of those in whom 
 lingers the smallest particle of the falsest sentiment 
 which the age of romance has ever handed down to 
 us what they call patriotism then my words 
 will be wasted. But here is the message which I 
 have brought to you and to your people. This is 
 the dream of my life which he, Selingman, alone has 
 known of the fusion of our races."
 
 282 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 " Magnificent ! " Selingman cried, springing to his 
 feet. " The dream of a god ! Listen to it, Mara- 
 ton. My brain has realised it. I, too, have seen it. 
 Your country is bound in the everlasting shackles. 
 Generations must pass before you can even weaken 
 the hold of your bourgeoisie upon the soul and spirit 
 of your land. You are tied hard and fast, and withal 
 you are on the downward grade. The work which 
 you do to-day, the next generation will undo. Give 
 up this foolish legislation. Listen to Maxendorf. 
 He will show you the way." 
 
 " When you speak of fusion," Maraton asked, 
 " you mean conquest ? " 
 
 " There is no such word," Maxendorf insisted. 
 " The hearts of our people are close together. Put 
 aside all these artificial ententes and alliances. 
 There are no two people whose ideals and whose aims 
 and whose destiny are so close together as your 
 country's and mine. It is for that very reason that 
 these periods of distrust and suspicion continually 
 occur, suspicions which impoverish two countries 
 with the millions we spend on senseless schemes of 
 defence. Away with them all. Stop the pendulum 
 of your country. Declare your coal strike, your 
 railway strike, your ironfounders' strike. Let the 
 revolution come. I tell you then that we shall appear 
 not as invaders, but as friends and liberators. Your 
 industries shall start again on a new basis, the basis 
 which you and I know of, the basis which gives to 
 the toilers their just and legitimate share of what 
 they produce. Your trade shall flourish just as it 
 flourished before, but away to dust and powder with
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 283 
 
 streets of pig-sties, the rat-holes into which 
 jour weary labourers creep after their hours of 
 senseless slavery. You and I, Maraton, know how 
 industries should be conducted. You and I know 
 the just share which Capital should claim. You and 
 I together will make the laws. Oh, what does it 
 matter whether you are English or Icelanders, Fins 
 or Turks! Humanity is so much greater than 
 nationality. Your men shall work side by side with 
 mine, and what each produces, each shall have. 
 What is being done for my country shall surely be 
 done for yours. Can't you see, Maraton can't 
 you see, my prophet who gropes in the darkness, 
 that I am showing you the only way ? " 
 
 Maraton rose to his feet. He came and stood 
 by Maxendorf's side. 
 
 " Maxendorf ," he said, " you may be speaking to 
 me from your heart. Yes, I will admit that you 
 are speaking to me from your heart. But you ask 
 me to take an awful risk. You stand first in your 
 country to-day, but in your country there are other 
 powerful influences at work. So much of what you 
 say is true. If I believed, Maxendorf if I be- 
 lieved that this fusion, as you call it, of our people 
 could come about in the way you suggest, if I 
 believed that the building up of our prosperity could 
 start again on the real and rational basis of many 
 of your institutions, if I believed this, Maxendorf, 
 no false sentiment would stand in my way. I would 
 risk the eternal shame of the historians. So far as 
 I could do it, I would give you this country. But 
 there is always the doubt, the awful doubt. You
 
 284 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 have a ruler whose ideas are not your ideas. 
 You have a people behind you who are strange to 
 me. I have not travelled in your country, I know 
 little of it. What if your people should assume the 
 guise of conquerors, should garrison our towns with 
 foreign soldiers, demand a huge indemnity, and then, 
 withdrawing, leave us to our fate? You have no 
 guarantees to offer me, Maxendorf." 
 
 " None but my word," Maxendorf confessed 
 quietly. 
 
 " You bargain like a politician ! " Selingman cried. 
 "Man, can't you see the glory of it?" 
 
 " I can see the glory," Maraton answered, turning 
 around, " but I can see also the ineffaceable ignominy 
 of it. Is your country great enough, Maxendorf, 
 to follow where your finger points ? I do not know." 
 
 " Yet you, too," Maxendorf persisted, " must 
 sometimes have looked into futurity. You must 
 have seen the slow decay of national pride, the 
 nations of the world growing closer and closer to- 
 gether. Can't you bear to strike a blow for the 
 great things? You and I see so well the utter bar- 
 barism of warfare, the hideous waste of our mighty 
 armaments, draining the money like blood from our 
 countries, and all for senselessness, all just to keep 
 alive that strange spirit which belongs to the days 
 of romance, and the days of romance only. It's a 
 workaday world now, Maraton. We draw nearer to 
 the last bend in the world's history. Oh, this is the 
 truth ! I have seen it for so long. It's my religion, 
 Maraton. The time may not have come to preach 
 it broadcast, but it's there in my heart."
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 285 
 
 Selingman struck the table with the palm of his 
 hand. 
 
 "Enough!" he said. "The words have been 
 spoken. To-morrow or the next day we meet again. 
 Go to your study, Maraton, and think. Lock the 
 door. Turn out the Julia I shall some day rob you 
 of. Hold your head, look into the future. Think! 
 Think! No more words now. They do no good. 
 Come. I stay with Maxendorf. I go with you to 
 the lift." 
 
 Maxendorf held out his hand. 
 
 " Selingman is, as usual, right," he confessed. 
 " We are speaking in a great language, Maraton. 
 It is enough for to-night, perhaps. Come back to 
 me when you will within the next forty-eight hours." 
 
 They left him there, a curious figure, straight and 
 motionless, standing upon the threshold of his room. 
 Selingman gripped Maraton by the arm as he hur- 
 ried him along the corridor. 
 
 " You've doubts, Maraton," he muttered. 
 " Doubts ! Curse them ! They are not worthy. 
 You should see the truth. You're big enough. You 
 will see it to-morrow. Get out of the fog. Maxen- 
 dorf is the most profound thinker of these days. 
 He is over here with that scheme of his deep in his 
 heart. It's become a passion with him. We have 
 talked of it by the hour, spoken of you, prayed for 
 some prophet on your side with eyes to see the truth. 
 Into the lift with you, man. Look for me to-mor- 
 row. Farewell ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXXI 
 
 Maraton was more than ever conscious, as he 
 climbed the stairs of the house in Downing Street 
 an hour or so later, of a certain fragility of appear- 
 ance in Mr. Foley, markedly apparent during these 
 last few weeks. He was standing talking to Lord 
 Annley, who was one of the late arrivals, as Mara- 
 ton entered, talking in a low tone and with an ob- 
 viously serious manner. At the sound of Maraton's 
 name, however, he turned swiftly around. His face 
 seemed to lighten. He held out his hand with an 
 air almost of relief. 
 
 " So you have come ! " he exclaimed. " I am 
 glad." 
 
 Maraton shook hands and would have passed on, 
 but Mr. Foley detained him. 
 
 " Armley and I were talking about this after- 
 noon's decision," he continued. " There will be no 
 secret about it to-morrow. It has been decided to 
 carry out our autumn manauvres as usual in South- 
 ern waters." 
 
 Maraton nodded. 
 
 " I am afraid that is one of the things the signifi- 
 cance of which fails to reach me," he remarked. 
 " You were against it, were you not? " 
 
 Mr. Foley groaned softly. 
 
 " My friend," he said, " there is only one fault
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 287 
 
 with the Members of my Government, only one fault 
 with this country. We are all foolishly and blindly 
 sanguine. We are optimistic by persuasion and 
 self-persuasion. We like the comfortable creed. I 
 suppose that the bogey of war has strutted with us 
 for so long that we have grown used to it." 
 
 Maraton looked at his companion thoughtfully. 
 
 " Do you seriously believe, Mr. Foley," he asked 
 in an undertone, " in the possibility, in the imminent 
 possibility of war? " 
 
 Mr. Foley half-closed his eyes and sighed. 
 
 " Oh, my dear Maraton," he murmured, " it isn't 
 a question of belief! It's like asking me whether 
 I believe I can see from here into my own drawing- 
 room. The figures in there are real enough, aren't 
 they? So is the cloud I can see gathering all the 
 time over our heads. It is a question only of the 
 propitious moment of that there is no manner of 
 doubt." 
 
 " You speak of affairs," Maraton admitted, " of 
 which I know nothing. I do not even understand 
 the balance of power. I always thought, though, 
 that every great nation, our own included, paid a 
 certain amount of insurance in the shape of huge 
 contributions towards a navy and army ; that we paid 
 such insurance as was necessary and were rewarded 
 with adequate results." 
 
 Mr. Foley forgot his depression for an instant, 
 and smiled. 
 
 " What a theorist you are ! It all depends upon 
 the amount of insurance you take up, whether the 
 risk is covered. We've under-insured for many
 
 288 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 years, thanks to that little kink in our disposition. 
 We got a nasty knock in South Africa and we had 
 to pay our own loss. It did us good for a year or 
 two. Now the pendulum has just reached the other 
 extreme. We've swung back once more into our silly 
 dream. Oh, Maraton, it's true enough that we have 
 great problems to face sociologically! Don't think 
 that I underrate them. You know I don't. But 
 every time I sit and talk to you, I have always at the 
 back of my mind that other fear. . . . Have you 
 seen M axendorf to-night ? " 
 
 " I have just left him," Maraton replied. 
 
 '* An interesting interview ? " 
 
 "Very!" 
 
 Mr. Foley gripped his arm. 
 
 " My friend," he said, " you see, I am beginning 
 to call you that you have talked to-night with 
 one of the most wonderful and the most dangerous 
 enemies of our country. You won't think me drivel- 
 ling, will you, or presuming, if I beg you to remem- 
 ber that fact, and that you are, notwithstanding your 
 foreign birth, one of us? You are an Englishman, 
 a member of the English House of Parliament." 
 
 " I do not forget that," Maraton declared gravely. 
 
 " Go and find Lady Elisabeth," Mr. Foley directed. 
 " She was a little hurt at the idea that you were not 
 coming. I have a few more words to say to Armley." 
 
 Maraton passed on into the rooms, which were 
 only half filled. Some fancy possessed him to pause 
 for a moment in the spot where he had stood alone 
 for some time on his first visit to this house, and as 
 he lingered there, Lady Elisabeth came into the room,
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 289 
 
 leaning on the arm of a great lawyer. She saw him 
 almost at once her eyes, indeed, seemed to glance 
 instinctively towards the spot where he was standing. 
 Maraton felt the change in her expression. With 
 a whisper she left her escort and came immediately 
 in his direction. He watched her, step by step. 
 Was it his fancy or had she lost some of the haughti- 
 ness of carriage which he had noticed that night not 
 many months ago; the slight coldness which in those 
 first moments had half attracted and half repelled 
 him? Perhaps it was because he was now admitted 
 within the circle of her friends. She came to him, 
 at any rate, quickly, almost eagerly, and the smile 
 about her lips as she took his hand was one of real 
 and natural pleasure. 
 
 " How good of you ! " she murmured. " I scarcely 
 hoped that you would come. You have been with 
 Maxendorf ? " 
 
 He nodded. 
 
 "Is it a confession?" he asked. "It was Mr. 
 Foley's first question to me." 
 
 " It is because we hate and distrust the man," she 
 replied. " You aren't a politician, you see, Mr. 
 Maraton. You don't quite appreciate some of the 
 forces which are making an old man of my uncle 
 to-day, which make life almost intolerable for many 
 of us when we think seriously," she went on simply. 
 
 " Aren't you exaggerating that sentiment just a 
 little? " he suggested. 
 
 " Not a particle," she assured him. " However* 
 you came here to be entertained, didn't you? I 
 won't croak to you any more. I think I have done
 
 ago A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 my duty for this evening. Let us find a corner and 
 talk like ordinary human beings. Are you going in 
 to supper? " 
 
 " I hadn't thought of it," he admitted. 
 
 " I dined at seven o'clock," she told him. " We 
 seem to have provided supper for hundreds of peo- 
 ple, and I am sure not half of them are coming." 
 
 They passed through two of the rooms into a 
 long, low apartment which led into the winter gar- 
 dens. At one end refreshments were being served, 
 and the rest of the space was taken up with little 
 tables. Elisabeth led him to one placed just inside 
 the winter garden. A footman filled their glasses 
 with champagne. 
 
 " Now we are going to be normal human beings," 
 she declared. " How much I wish that you really 
 were a normal human being ! " 
 
 " In what respect am I different ? " 
 
 " You know quite well," she answered. " I should 
 like you to be what you seem to be just a capable, 
 clever, rising politician, with a place in the Cabinet 
 before you, working for your country, sincere, free 
 from all these strange notions." 
 
 " Working for my country," he repeated. " That 
 is just the difficult part of the whole situation, now- 
 adays. I know that I am rather a trouble to your 
 uncle. Sometimes I fear that I may become even 
 a greater trouble. It is so hard to adopt the attitude 
 which you suggest when one feels the intolerable 
 situation which exists in that country." 
 
 " But we are on the highroad now to great re- 
 forms," she reminded him. " Another decade of
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 291 
 
 years, and the people whom you worship will surely 
 be lifting their heads." 
 
 He smiled as she looked across at him with a puz- 
 zled air. 
 
 " It is strange," she remarked, " that you, too, 
 have the appearance of a man dissatisfied with him- 
 self. I wonder why? Surely you must feel that 
 everything has gone your way since you came to 
 England?" 
 
 " I am not sure how I feel about it," he replied. 
 " Think ! I came with different ideas. I came with 
 a religion which admitted no compromises, and I 
 have accepted a compromise." 
 
 " A wise and a sane one," she declared, almost 
 passionately. " And to-night tell me, am I not 
 right ? to-night there have been those who have 
 sought to upset it in your mind." 
 
 " You are clairvoyant." 
 
 " Not I, but it is so easy to see ! It is the dream 
 of Maxendorf's life to bring England to the verge 
 of a revolution by paralysing her industries. Better 
 for him, that, than any violent scheme of conquest. 
 If he can stop the engine that drives the wheels of 
 the country, they can come over in tourist steamers 
 and tell us how to govern it better." 
 
 " And if they did," he asked quickly, " isn't it 
 possible that their rule over the people might be 
 better than the rule of this stubborn generation ? " 
 
 She drew herself up. Her eyes flashed with anger. 
 
 " Haven't you a single gleam of patriotism? " she 
 demanded. 
 
 He sighed.
 
 292 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 " I think that I have," he replied, " and yet, it 
 lies at the back of my thoughts, at the back of my 
 heart. It is more like an artistic inspiration, one 
 of those things that lie among the pleasant impulses 
 of life. Right in the foreground I see the great 
 groaning cycle of humanity being flung from the 
 everlasting wheels into the bottomless abyss. I can- 
 not take my eyes from the people, you see." 
 
 She sat almost rigid for some brief space of time. 
 A servant was arranging plates in front of them, 
 their glasses were refilled, the music of a waltz stole 
 in through the open door. Around them many other 
 people were sitting. An atmosphere of gaiety began 
 gradually to develop. Maraton watched his com- 
 panion closely. Her eyes were full of trouble, her 
 sensitive mouth quivering a little. There was a 
 straight line across her forehead. Her fair hair was 
 arranged in great coils, without a single ornament. 
 She wore no jewels at all save a single string of pearls 
 around her slim white neck. Maraton, as the mo- 
 ments passed, was conscious of a curious weakening, 
 a return of that same thrill which the sound of her 
 voice that first day half imperious, half gracious 
 had incited in him. He waved his hand towards 
 the crowd of those who supped around them. 
 
 " Let us forget," he begged. " I, too, feel that 
 I have more in my mind to-night than my brain can 
 cope with. Let us rest for a little time." 
 
 Her face lightened. 
 
 " We will," she assented gladly. " Only, do re- 
 member what my constant prayer about you is. 
 Things, you know, in some respects must go on as
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 293 
 
 they are, and the country needs its strongest sons. 
 Mr. Foley would like to bring you even closer to him. 
 I know he is simply aching with impatience to have 
 you in the Cabinet. Don't do anything rash, Mr. 
 Maraton. Don't do anything which would make it 
 impossible. There are many beautiful theories in 
 life which would be simply hateful failures if one 
 tried to bring them into practice. Try to remem- 
 ber that experience goes for something. And now 
 finished! Tell me about Sheffield? I read Seling- 
 man's marvellous article. One could almost see the 
 whole scene there. How I should love to hear you 
 speak ! Not in Parliament I don't mean that. I 
 almost realise how impossible you find that." 
 
 " It is only a matter of earnestness," he replied, 
 " and a certain aptitude for forming phrases quickly. 
 No one can feel deeply ^about anything and not find 
 themselves more or less eloquent when they come to 
 talk about it. By the bye, have you ever met Seling- 
 man?" 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 " My uncle knew him. He tells me that he asked 
 him here to-night. I wish that he had come. And 
 yet, I am not sure. Some of his writings I have 
 hated. He, too, is a theorist, isn't he? I won- 
 der" 
 
 She paused, and looked expectant. 
 
 " I often wonder," she went on, " is there nothing 
 else in your life at all except this passionate altru- 
 ism? In your younger life, for instance, weren't 
 there ever any sports or occupations that you cared 
 for? "
 
 294 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 '* Yes," he admitted slowly, " for some years I did 
 a good many of the usual things." 
 
 " And now the desire for them has all gone," she 
 asked, " haven't you any personal hopes or dreams 
 in connection with life? Isn't there anything you 
 look forward to or desire for yourself? " 
 
 " I seem to have so little time. And yet, one has 
 dreams one always must have dreams, you know." 
 
 " Tell me about yours? " she insisted. 
 
 He sat up abruptly. Her fingers fell upon his 
 arm. 
 
 " We will go and sit under my rose tree," she sug- 
 gested. 
 
 They moved back into the winter garden until 
 they came to a seat at its furthest extremity. A 
 fountain was playing a few yards away, and clusters 
 of great pink roses were drooping down from some 
 trellis-work before them. 
 
 " Here, at least," she continued, as she leaned 
 back, " we will not be tempted to talk seriously. Tell 
 me about yourself? Do you never look forward into 
 the future? Have you no personal ambitions or 
 hopes ? " 
 
 He looked steadily ahead of him. 
 
 " I am only a very ordinary man," he replied. 
 " Like every one else, sometimes I look up to the 
 clouds." 
 
 " Tell me what you see there ? " she begged. 
 
 He was silent. The sound of voices now came to 
 them like a distant murmur, a background to the 
 slow falling of the water into the fountain basin. 
 
 " Lady Elisabeth," he said, " it is not always pos-
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 295 
 
 sible to tell even one's own self what the thoughts 
 mean which come into one's brain." 
 
 " You will not even try to tell me, then? " 
 
 " I must not," he answered. 
 
 She sat with her hands folded in front of her, her 
 head drooped a little. Maraton felt himself suddenly 
 at war with a whole multitude of emotions. Was it 
 possible that this thing had come to him, that a 
 woman could take the great place in his life, a 
 woman not of his kind, one who could not even share 
 the passion which was to have absorbed every impulse 
 of his existence to the end? She was of a different 
 world. Perhaps it had all been a mistake. Perhaps 
 it would have been better for him to have stayed out- 
 side, to have never crossed the little borderland which 
 led into the land of compromises. And all the time, 
 while his brain was at work, something stronger, 
 more wonderful, was throbbing in his heart. He 
 moved restlessly in his place. Her ungloved hand lay 
 within a few inches of him. He suddenly caught it. 
 
 " Lady Elisabeth," he whispered, " I feel like a 
 traitor. I feel myself moved to say things to you 
 under false pretences. I ought not to have come 
 here." 
 
 "What do you mean?" she demanded. "You 
 can't mean " 
 
 Their eyes met. He read the truth unerringly. 
 
 " No, not that," he answered. " There is no one. 
 What I feel is, at any rate, consecrate. But I have 
 no right. I am not sure, even at this moment, 
 whether it is not in my heart to take a step which 
 you would look upon as the blackest ingratitude. My
 
 2 g6 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 life, Lady Elisabeth, holds issues in it far apart, and 
 it is vowed, dedicate." 
 
 " You are going to break away ? " she asked 
 quietly. 
 
 "I may," he admitted. "That is the truth. 
 That is why I hesitated about coming here to-night. 
 And yet, I wanted to come. I wasn't sure why. I 
 know now it was to see you." 
 
 "Oh, don't be rash!" she begged. "Don't! I 
 may talk to you now really from my heart, mayn't 
 I ? " she went on, looking steadfastly into his face. 
 " Don't imagine that that great gulf exists. It 
 doesn't. If you break away, it will be a mistake. 
 You want to feel your feet upon the clouds. You 
 don't know how much safer you will be if you keep 
 them upon the earth. You may bring incalculable 
 suffering and misery upon the very people whom 
 you wish to benefit. You think that I am a woman, 
 perhaps, and I know little. Yes, but sometimes we 
 who are outside see much, and it is dangerous, you 
 know, to act upon theories. I haven't spoken a sin- 
 gle selfish word, have I? I haven't tried to tell you 
 how much I should hate to lose you." 
 
 He rose to his feet. 
 
 " I am going away," he said hoarsely. " I must 
 fight this thing out alone. But " 
 
 He looked around. The words seemed to fail him. 
 Their little corner of the winter garden was still 
 uninvaded. 
 
 " But, Lady Elisabeth," he continued, " you know 
 the thing which makes it harder for me than ever. 
 You know very well that if I decide to do what must
 
 "I am going away," he said hoarsely. Page 296.,

 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 297 
 
 make me a stranger in this household, I shall do it 
 at a personal sacrifice which I never dreamed could 
 exist." 
 
 She swayed a little towards him. Her face was 
 suddenly changed, alluring; her eyes pleaded with 
 him. 
 
 " You mustn't go away," she whispered. " If you 
 go now, you must come back do you hear? you 
 must come back ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXXII 
 
 It was the eve of the reopening of Parliament. 
 Maraton, who had been absent from London no 
 one knew where during the last six weeks, had 
 suddenly reappeared. Once more he had invited the 
 committee of the Labour Party to meet at his house. 
 His invitation was accepted, but it was obvious that 
 this time their attitude towards the man who wel- 
 comed them was one of declared and pronounced hos- 
 tility. Graveling was there, with sullen, evil face. 
 He made no attempt to shake hands with Maraton, 
 and he sat at the table provided for them with folded 
 arms and dour, uncompromising aspect. Dale came 
 late and he, too, greeted Maraton with bluff un- 
 friendliness. Borden's attitude was non-committal. 
 Weavel shook hands, but his frown and manner were 
 portentous. Culvain, the diplomat of the party, was 
 quiet and reserved. David Ross alone had never lost 
 his attitude of unwavering fidelity. He sat at Mara- 
 ton's left hand, his head a little drooped, his eyes 
 almost hidden beneath his shaggy grey eyebrows, his 
 lower lip protuberant. He had, somehow, the air of 
 a guarding dog, ready to spring into bitter words if 
 his master were touched. 
 
 " Gentlemen," Maraton began, when at last they 
 were all assembled, " I have asked you, the committee 
 who were appointed to meet me on my arrival in
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 299 
 
 England, to meet me once more here on the eve of 
 the reopening of Parliament." 
 
 There was a grim silence. No one spoke. Their 
 general attitude was one of suspicious waiting. 
 
 " You all know," Maraton went on, " with what 
 ideas I first came to England. I found, however, 
 that circumstances here were in many respects differ- 
 ent from anything I had imagined. You all know 
 that I modified my plans. I decided to adopt a mid- 
 dle course." 
 
 " A seat in Parliament," Graveling muttered, 
 '* and a place at the Prime Minister's dinner table." 
 
 *' For some reason or other," Maraton continued, 
 unruffled, " my coming into Parliament seemed ob- 
 noxious to Mr. Dale and most of ydu. I decided in 
 favour of that course, however, because the offer 
 made me by Mr. Foley was one which, in the interests 
 of the people, I could not refuse. Mr. Foley has 
 done his best to keep to the terms of his compact 
 with me. Perhaps I ought to say that he has kept 
 to it. The successful termination of the Lancashire 
 strike is due entirely to his efforts. The prolong- 
 ation of the Sheffield strike is in no way his fault. 
 The blind stupidity of the masters was too much 
 even for him. The position has developed very 
 much as I feared it might. You cannot make em- 
 ployers see reason by Act of Parliament. Mr. Foley 
 kept his word. He has been on the side of the men 
 throughout this struggle. He has used every atom 
 of influence he possesses to compel the employers to 
 give in. Temporarily he has failed only tem- 
 porarily, mind, for a Bill will be introduced into
 
 300 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 Parliament during this session which will very much 
 alter the position of the employers. But this partial 
 failure has convinced me of one thing. This is too 
 law-abiding a country for compromises. For the last 
 six weeks I have been travelling on the Continent. 
 I have realised how splendidly Labour has emanci- 
 pated itself there compared to its slow progress in 
 this country. From town to town in northern Eu- 
 rope I passed, and found the great industries of the 
 various districts in the hands of a composite body 
 of men, embracing the boy learning the simplest 
 machine and the financier in the office, every man 
 there working like a single part of one huge machine, 
 each for the profit of the whole. A genuine scheme 
 of profit-sharing is there being successfully carried 
 out. It is owing to this visit, and the convictions 
 which have come to me from the same, that I have 
 called you together to-day." 
 
 " You invited us," Peter Dale remarked deliber- 
 ately, " and here we are. As to what good's likely 
 to come of our meeting, that's another matter. 
 There's no denying the fact that we've not been able 
 to work together up till now, and whether we shall 
 in the future is by no means clear." 
 
 " I am sorry to hear you say so, Mr. Dale," Mara- 
 ton declared. " I only hope that before you go you 
 will have changed your mind." 
 
 " Not in the least likely, that I can see," Peter 
 Dale retorted. " For my part, I can't reckon up 
 what you want with us. You've gone into the House 
 on your own and you've chosen to sit in a place by 
 yourself. You've tried your best to manage things
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 301 
 
 according to your own way of thinking, without us. 
 Now, all of a sudden, you invite us here. I wonder 
 whether this has anything to do with it." 
 
 With some deliberation, Peter Dale produced from 
 his pocket a letter, which he smoothed out upon the 
 table before him. He had the air of a man who pre- 
 pares a bombshell. Maraton stretched out his hand 
 toward it. 
 
 " Is that for me? " he asked. 
 
 Peter Dale kept his fingers upon it. 
 
 " Its contents concern you," he announced. " I'll 
 read it, if you'll be so good as to listen. Came as a 
 bit of a shock to us, I must confess.*' 
 
 " Anonymous ? " Maraton murmured. 
 
 " If its contents are untrue," Peter Dale said, 
 " you will be able to contradict them. With your 
 kind permission, then. Listen, everybody: 
 
 " ' Dear Sir: 
 
 " * The following facts concerning a recent addi- 
 tion to the ranks of your Party should, I think, be 
 of some interest to you. 
 
 " * The proper name of Mr. Maraton is Mr. Mara- 
 ton Lawes. 
 
 " ' Mr. Maraton Lawes and a younger brother 
 were once the possessors of the world-famous Lawes 
 Oil Springs, and are now the principal shareholders 
 in the Lawes Oil Company. 
 
 " ' The person in question is a millionaire. 
 
 " ' A Socialist millionaire who conceals the fact 
 of his wealth and keeps his purse closed, is a person, 
 I think, open to criticism.
 
 302 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 " * A sketch of Mr. Maraton Lawes' career will 
 shortly appear in an evening paper.' ' 
 
 Maraton listened without change of countenance. 
 All eyes were turned upon him. 
 
 " Well? " he enquired nonchalantly. 
 
 " Is this true ? " Peter Dale demanded. 
 
 Maraton inclined his head. 
 
 " The writer," he said, " a man named Beldeman, 
 I am sure has been singularly moderate in his state- 
 ments. I have been expecting the article to appear 
 for some time." 
 
 They were all of them apparently afflicted with 
 a curious combination of emotions. They were 
 angry, and yet with the exception of Graveling 
 there was beneath their anger some evidence of that 
 curious respect for wealth prevalent amongst their 
 order. They looked at Maraton with a new interest. 
 
 " A millionaire ! " Peter Dale exclaimed impres- 
 sively. " You admit it ! You a Socialist a 
 people's man, as you've called yourself! And never 
 a word to one of us ! Never a copper of your money 
 to the Party! I repeat it not one copper have 
 we seen ! " 
 
 The man's cheeks were flushed with anger, his 
 brows lowered. Something of his indignation was 
 reflected in the faces of all of them momentarily 
 a queer sort of cupidity seemed to have stolen into 
 their expressions. Maraton shrugged his shoulders 
 slightly. 
 
 " Why should I subscribe to your Party funds ? " 
 he asked calmly. " Some of you do good work, no
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 303 
 
 doubt, and yet there is no such destroyer of good 
 work as money. Work, individual effort, unselfish en- 
 thusiasm, are the torches which should light on your 
 cause. Money would only serve the purpose of a 
 slow poison amongst you." 
 
 " Prattle ! " Abraham Weavel muttered. 
 
 ** Rot ! " Peter Dale agreed. " Just another ques- 
 tion, Mr. Maraton: Why have you kept this secret 
 from us ? " 
 
 " I will make a statement," Maraton replied coolly. 
 " Perhaps it will save needless questions. My money 
 is derived from oil springs. I prospected for them 
 myself, and I have had to fight for them. It was 
 in wilder days than you know of here. I have a 
 younger brother, or rather a half-brother, whom I 
 was sorry to see over here the other day, who is my 
 partner. My average profits are twenty-eight thou- 
 sand pounds a year. Ten thousand pounds goes to 
 the support of a children's home in New York; the 
 remainder is distributed in other directions amongst 
 institutions for the rescue of children. Five thou- 
 sand a year I keep for myself." 
 
 " Five thousand a year ! " Peter Dale gasped in- 
 dignantly. " Did you hear that ? " he added, turning 
 to the others. 
 
 " Four hundred a year and a hundred and fifty 
 from subscriptions, and that's every penny I have 
 to bring up seven children upon," Weavel declared 
 with disgust. 
 
 " And mine's less than that, and the subscriptions 
 falling off," Borden grunted. 
 
 " What sort of a Socialist is a man with five thou-
 
 304 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 sand a year who keeps his pockets tightly buttoned 
 up, I should like to know? " Graveling exclaimed 
 angrily. 
 
 Maraton smiled. 
 
 " You have common sense, I am sure, all of you,'* 
 he said. " In fact, no one could possibty accuse 
 you of being dreamers. Every effort of my life will 
 be devoted towards the promulgation of my beliefs, 
 absolutely without regard to my pecuniary position. 
 I admit that the possession of wealth is contrary to 
 the principles of life which I should like to see estab- 
 lished. Still, until conditions alter, it would be even 
 more contrary to my principles to distribute my 
 money in charity which I abominate, or to weaken 
 good causes by unwholesome and unearned contri- 
 butions to them. Shall we now proceed to the sub- 
 ject of our discussion?" 
 
 " What is it, anyway ? " Peter Dale demanded 
 gruffly. " Do you find that after being so plaguey 
 independent you need our help after all? Is that 
 what it is ? " 
 
 " I want no one's help," Maraton replied quietly. 
 " I only want to give you this earliest notice 
 because, in your way, you do represent the people 
 that it is my intention to revert to my first ideas. 
 I have arranged a tour in the potteries next week. 
 I go straight on to Newcastle, and from there to 
 Glasgow. I intend to preach a universal strike. I 
 intend, if I can, to bring the shipbuilders, the coal- 
 miners, the dockers, the railroad men, out on strike, 
 while the Sheffield trouble is as yet unsolved. What- 
 ever may come of it, I intend that the Government
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 305 
 
 of this country shall realise how much their pros- 
 perity is dependent upon the people's will." 
 
 There was a little murmur. Peter Dale, who had 
 filled his pipe, was puffing away steadily. 
 
 " Look here," he said slowly, " Newcastle's my 
 job." 
 
 " Is it ? " Maraton replied. " There are a million 
 and a quarter of miners to be considered. You may 
 be the representative of a few of them. I am not 
 sure that in this matter you represent their wishes, 
 if you are for peace. I am going to see.'* 
 
 " As for the potteries," Mr. Borden declared, " a 
 strike there's overdue, and that's certain, but if all 
 the others are going to strike at the same time, why, 
 what's the good of it? The Unions can't stand it." 
 
 " We have tried striking piecemeal," Maraton 
 pointed out. " It doesn't seem to me that it's a suc- 
 cess. What is called the Government here can deal 
 with one strike at a time. They've soldiers enough, 
 and law enough, for that. They haven't for a uni- 
 versal strike." 
 
 Peter Dale struck the table with his clenched fist. 
 His expression was grim and his tone truculent. 
 
 " What I say is this," he pronounced. " I'm dead 
 against any interference from outsiders. If I think 
 a strike's good for my people, well, I'll blow the 
 whistle. If you're for Newcastle next week, Mr. 
 Maraton, so am I. If you're for preaching a strike, 
 well, I'm for preaching against it." 
 
 " Hear, hear ! " Graveling exclaimed. " I'm with 
 you." 
 
 Maraton smiled a little bitterly.
 
 3 o6 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 " As you will, Mr. Dale," he replied. " But re- 
 member, you'll have to seek another constituency next 
 time you want to come into Parliament. Do be rea- 
 sonable," he went on. " Do you suppose the people 
 will listen to you preaching peace and contentment? 
 They'll whip you out of the town." 
 
 " It's the carpet-bagger that will have to go first ! " 
 Dale declared vigorously. " There's no two ways 
 about that." 
 
 Maraton sighed. 
 
 " Sometimes," he said, looking around at them, " I 
 feel that it must be my fault that there has never 
 been any sympathy between us. Sometimes I am 
 sure that it is yours. Don't you ever look a little 
 way beyond the actual wants of your own constitu- 
 ents? Don't you ever peer over the edge and realise 
 that the real cause of the people is no local matter? 
 It is a great blow for their freedom, this which I mean 
 to strike. I'd like to have had you all with me. It's 
 a huge responsibility for one." 
 
 " It's revolution," Culvain muttered. " You may 
 call that a responsibility, indeed. Who's going to 
 feed the people? Who's going to keep them from 
 pillaging and rioting? " 
 
 " No one," Maraton replied quietly. " A revolu- 
 tion is inevitable. Perhaps after that we may have 
 to face the coming of a foreign enemy. And yet, 
 even with this contingency in view, I want you to 
 ask yourselves: What have the people to lose? 
 Those who will suffer by anything that could possibly 
 happen, will be the wealthy. From those who have 
 not, nothing can be taken. What I prophesy is that
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 307 
 
 in the next phase of our history, a new era will dawn. 
 Our industries will be re-established upon different 
 lines. The loss entailed by the revolution, by the 
 dislocating of all our industries, will fall upon the 
 people who are able and who deserve to pay for it." 
 
 There was a moment's grim silence. Then David 
 Ross suddenly lifted his head. 
 
 "It's a great blow!" he cried. "It's the hand 
 of the Lord falling upon the land, long overdue 
 too long overdue. The man's right! This people 
 have had a century to set their house in order. The 
 warning has been in their ears long enough. The 
 thunder has muttered so long, it's time the storm 
 should break. Let ruin come, I say ! " 
 
 " You can talk any silly nonsense you like, David 
 Ross," Dale declared angrily, " but what I say is 
 that we are listening to the most dangerous stuff 
 any man ever spouted. What's to become of us, 
 I'd like to know, with a revolution in the country ? " 
 
 " You would probably lose your jobs," Maraton 
 answered calmly. " What does it matter? There 
 are others to follow you. The first whom the people 
 will turn upon will be those who have pulled down 
 the pillars. Our names will be hated by every one 
 of them. What does it matter? It is for their 
 good." 
 
 Peter Dale doubled up his fist and once more he 
 smote the table before him. 
 
 " I am dead against you, Maraton," he announced. 
 " Put that in your pipe and smoke it. If you go to 
 Newcastle, I go there to fight you. If you go to 
 any of the places in this country represented by us,
 
 3 o8 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 our Member will be there to fight. We are in Par- 
 liament to do our best for the people we represent, 
 bit by bit as we can. We are not there to plunge 
 the country into a revolution and run the risk of a 
 foreign invasion. There isn't one of us Englishmen 
 here who'll agree with you or side with you for one 
 moment." 
 
 " Hear, hear ! " they all echoed. 
 
 " Not one," Graveling interposed, " and for my 
 part, I go further. I say that the man who stands 
 there and talks about the risk of a foreign invasion 
 like that, is no Englishman. I call him a traitor, 
 and if the thing comes he speaks of, may he be hung 
 from the nearest lamp-post! That's all I've got to 
 say." 
 
 Maraton opened his lips and closed them again. 
 He looked slowly down that wall of blank, unsym- 
 pathetic faces and he merely shrugged his shoulders. 
 Words were wasted upon them. 
 
 " Very well, gentlemen," he said, " let it be war. 
 Perhaps we'd better let this be the end of our de- 
 liberations." 
 
 Graveling rose slowly to his feet. His face was 
 filled with evil things. He pointed to Maraton. 
 
 " There's a word more to be spoken ! " he ex- 
 claimed. " There's more behind this scheme of Mara- 
 ton's than he's willing to have us understand! It 
 looks to me and it sounds to me like a piece of dirty, 
 underhand business. I'll ask you a question, Mara- 
 ton. Were you at the Ritz Hotel one night about 
 two months ago, with the ambassador of a foreign 
 country ? "
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 309 
 
 <; I was," Maraton admitted coolly. 
 
 Graveling looked around with a little cry of tri- 
 umph. 
 
 " It's a plot, this ; nothing more nor less than a 
 plot ! " he declared vigorously. " What sort of an 
 Englishman does he call himself, I wonder? It's the 
 foreigners that are at the bottom of the lot of it! 
 They want our trade, they'd be glad of our country. 
 They've bribed this man Maraton to get it without 
 the trouble of fighting for it, even ! " 
 
 Maraton moved towards the door. Holding it 
 open, he turned and faced them. 
 
 " Before I came," he said, " I hoped that you 
 might be men. I find you just the usual sort of 
 pigmies. You call yourselves people's men! You 
 haven't mastered the elementary truths of your re- 
 ligion. What's England, or France, or any other 
 country in the world, by the side of humanity? Be 
 off ! I'll go my own way. Go yours, and take your 
 little tinsel of jingoism with you. Whenever you 
 want to fight me, I shall be ready." 
 
 " And fight you we shall," Peter Dale thundered, 
 " mark you that ! There's limits, even to us. The 
 Government of this country mayn't be all it should 
 be, but, after all, it's our English Government, and 
 there is a point at which every man has to support 
 it. The law is the law, and so you may find out, my 
 friend ! " 
 
 They filed out. Maraton closed the door after 
 them. He was alone. He threw open the window 
 to get rid of the odour of tobacco smoke which still 
 hung about. The echo of their raucous voices seemed
 
 3 io A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 still in the air. These were the men who should have 
 been his friends and associates ! These were the men 
 to whom he had the right to look for sympathy! 
 They treated him like a dangerous lunatic. Their 
 own small interests, their own small careers were 
 threatened, and they were up in arms without a mo- 
 ment's hesitation. Not one of them had made the 
 slightest attempt to see the whole truth. The word 
 " revolution " had terrified them. The approach of a 
 crisis had driven their thoughts into one narrow 
 focus : what would it mean for them ? 
 
 He resumed his seat. The empty chairs pushed 
 back seemed, somehow or other, allegorical. He was 
 alone. The man for whose friendship he had indeed 
 felt some desire, the man who had opened his hands 
 and heart to him Stephen Feley would know 
 him henceforth no more. He drew his thoughts reso- 
 lutely away from that side of his life, closed his ears 
 to the music which beat there, crushed down the 
 fancies which sprang up so easily if ever he relaxed 
 his hold upon his will. He was lonely ; for the first 
 time in his life, perhaps, intensely lonely. In all the 
 country there was scarcely a human being who would 
 not soon look upon him as a madman. What did one 
 live for, after all? Just to continue the dull, hope- 
 less struggle to fight without hope of reward, to 
 fight with oneself as well as with the world? 
 
 The door was opened softly. Julia came in. Per- 
 haps she guessed from his attitude something of his 
 trouble, for she moved at once to his side. 
 
 " They have gone ? " she asked. 
 
 " They have gone," he admitted.
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 311 
 
 She sighed. 
 
 " I shall not ask you anything," she said, " be- 
 cause I know. Pigs of men pigs with their noses 
 to the ground ! How can they lift their heads ! You 
 could not make them understand ! " 
 
 " I scarcely tried," he confessed. " They have 
 found out, for one thing, that I am wealthy, a fact 
 that does not concern them in the least, and they 
 accused me of it as though it were a crime. It was 
 all so hopeless. You cannot make men understand 
 who have not the capacity for understanding. You 
 cannot make the blind see. They even reminded me 
 that they were Englishmen. They talked the usual 
 rubbish about conquest and foreign enemies and 
 patriotism." 
 
 " Clods ! " she muttered. " But you ? " 
 
 She sat down beside him, her eyes full of light. 
 She laid her hands boldly upon his. 
 
 "You will not let yourself be discouraged?" she 
 pleaded. " Remember that even if you are alone in 
 the world, you are right. You fight without hope of 
 reward, without hope of appreciation. You will be 
 the enemy of every one, and yet you know in your 
 heart that you have the truth. You know it, and 
 I know it, and Aaron knows it, and David Ross be- 
 lieves it. There are millions of others, if you could 
 only find them, who understand, too men too great 
 to come out from their studies and talk claptrap to 
 the mob. There are other people in the world who 
 understand, who will sympathise. What does it mat- 
 ter that you cannot hear their spoken voices? And 
 we well, you know about us."
 
 3 i2 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 Her voice was almost a caress, the loneliness in his 
 heart was so intense. 
 
 " Oh, you know about us ! " she continued. "I 
 oh, I am your slave! And Aaron! We believe, we 
 understand. There isn't anything in this world," she 
 went on, with a little sob, " there isn't anything I 
 wouldn't gladly do to help you! If only one could 
 help ! " 
 
 He returned very gently the pressure of her burn- 
 ing fingers. She drew his eyes towards hers, and he 
 was startled to see in those few minutes how beautiful 
 she was. There was inspiration in her splendidly 
 modelled face the high forehead, the eyes bril- 
 liantly clear, kindled now with the light of enthu- 
 siasm and all the softer burning of her exquisite 
 sympathy. Her lips full and red they seemed 
 were slightly parted. She was breathing quickly, 
 like one who has run a race. 
 
 " Oh, dear master," she whispered, " let me call 
 you that don't, even for a moment, be faint- 
 hearted ! " 
 
 The door was suddenly thrown open. Selingman 
 entered, an enormous bunch of roses in his hand, a 
 green hat on the back of his head. 
 
 " Faint-hearted? " he exclaimed. " What a word ! 
 Who is faint-hearted? Julia, I have brought you 
 flowers. You would have to kiss me for them if he 
 were not here. Don't glower at me. Every one 
 kisses me. Great ladies would if I asked them to. 
 That's the best of being a genius. Lord, what a 
 wreck he looks! What's wrong with you, man? I 
 know ! I met them at the corner of the street. There
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 313. 
 
 was the rat-faced fellow with the red tie, and the 
 miner Labour Members, they call themselves. I 
 would like to see them with a spade ! Have you been 
 trying to get at their brains, Maraton? What's 
 that to make a man like you depressed? Did you 
 think they had any? Did you think you could draw 
 a single spark of fire out of dull pap like that? 
 Bah ! " 
 
 Julia was moving quietly about the room, putting 
 the flowers in water. Aaron had slipped in and was 
 seated before his desk. Selingman, his broad face 
 set suddenly into hard lines, plumped himself into 
 the chair which Peter Dale had occupied. 
 
 " Man alive, lift your head - lift your head to 
 the skies ! " he ordered. " You're the biggest man 
 in this country. Will you treat the prick of a pin 
 like a mortal wound? What did you expect from- 
 them? Lord Almighty! . . . I've packed my bag. 
 I'm ready for the road. Two hundred and fifty 
 pounds a time from the Dcdly Oracle for thumbnail 
 sketches of the Human Firebrand ! Lord, what is 
 any one depressed for in this country! It's chock- 
 full cf humour. If I lived here long, I should be 
 fat." 
 
 He looked downward at his figure with compla- 
 cency. Julia laughed softly. 
 
 " Aren't you fat now? " she asked. 
 
 " Immense," he confessed, " but it's nothing to 
 what I could be. It agrees with me," he went on. 
 " You see, I have learnt the art of being satisfied 
 with myself. I know what I am. I am content. 
 That is where you, my friend Maraton, need to grow
 
 3 i4 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 a little older. Oh, you are great enough, great 
 enough if you only knew it! Even Maxendorf ad- 
 mits that, and he told me frankly he's disappointed 
 in you. Don't sit there like a dumb figure any 
 longer. We are all coming with you, aren't we? 
 I have brought my car over from Belgium. It is a 
 caravan. It will hold us all Aaron, too. Let us 
 start ; let us get out of this accursed city. Where is 
 the first move? " 
 
 " We can't leave to-night," Maraton said. " I am 
 addressing a meeting of the representatives of the 
 Amalgamated Railway Workers that is, if Peter 
 Dale doesn't manage to stop it. He'll do his best." 
 
 " He won't succeed," Aaron declared eagerly. " I 
 saw Ernshaw two hours ago. They're on to Peter 
 Dale and his move. Do you know why Peter Dale 
 was late here this afternoon ? He'd been to Downing 
 Street. I heard. Foley's lost you, but he's holding 
 on to the Labour Party. He's pitting the Labour 
 Party against you in the country." 
 
 Selingman laughed heartily. 
 
 "He's got it!" he exclaimed. "That's the 
 scheme. I am all for a fight, spoiling for it. Fight- 
 ing and eating are the grandest things in the world! 
 What time is the meeting? " 
 
 " Seven o'clock," Maraton replied. 
 
 " Two hours we will give you," Selingman con- 
 tinued. " Nine o'clock, a little restaurant I know in 
 the West End, the four of us before we start. We 
 will do ourselves well." 
 
 " Before I leave London," Maraton said, " I must 
 see Maxendorf once more."
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 315 
 
 Selingman stroked his face thoughtfully. 
 
 " Your risk," he remarked. " Don't you let these 
 chaps think you are mixed up with Maxendorf." 
 
 " I must see Maxendorf," Maraton insisted. 
 " When I leave London to-night, the die is cast. I 
 have cut myself adrift from everything in life. I 
 shall make enemies with every class of society. 
 There must be one word more pass between Maxen- 
 dorf and me before I hold up the torch." 
 
 " He's got it," Selingman declared. " The trick 
 is on him already. Maxendorf he shall see. I will 
 arrange a meeting somewhere not at the hotel. 
 Miss Julia, write down this address. This is where 
 we all meet at nine. Half-past six now. I will take 
 you round to your meeting, Maraton. Do you want 
 any papers ? " 
 
 " I want no papers," Maraton answered. " I 
 speak to these men to-night as I shall speak to them 
 in the north. I take no papers from London with 
 me, no figures, nothing. It is just the things I see 
 I want to tell them." 
 
 Selingman nodded. 
 
 " You shall speak immortal words," he declared. 
 " And I I am the one man in the world to tran- 
 scribe them, to write in the background, to give 
 them colour and point. What giants we are, Mara- 
 ton you with your stream of words, and I with 
 my pen ! Miss Julia," he added, " remember that 
 you are to be our inspiration as well as my secretary. 
 Put on your prettiest clothes to-night. It is our last 
 holiday." 
 
 She looked at him coldly.
 
 316 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 " I do not wear pretty clothes," she said. 
 
 " Little fool ! " he exclaimed. " Just because 
 you've the big things beating in your brain, you'd 
 like to close your eyes to the fact that your sex is 
 the most wonderful thing on God's earth. That's 
 the worst of a woman. If ever she begins to think 
 seriously, she does her hair in a lump, changes sillf 
 for cotton, forgets her corsets, and leaves off rib- 
 bons. Silly, silly child ! " he went on, shaking his 
 forefinger at her. " I tell you women have done their 
 greatest work in the world when their brains have 
 been covered with a pretty hat. . . . There she goes," 
 he growled, as she left the room. " Thinks I'm a 
 flippant old windbag, I know. And I'm not. Why 
 don't you fall in love with her, Maraton? It would 
 be the making of you. Even a prophet needs re- 
 laxation. She is yours, body and soul. One can 
 tell it with every sentence she speaks. And she is 
 for the cause," he concluded with a graver note in 
 his tone. " She has found the fire somewhere. There 
 were women like her who held Robespierre's hand. 
 . . . Eh?" 
 
 Maraton glanced up. Selingman was leaning for- 
 ward and his eyes were fixed steadily upon his friend. 
 
 " I was afraid, just a little afraid," he said slowly, 
 " of the other woman. I am glad she didn't count 
 enough. Women are the very devil sometimes when 
 they come between us and the right thing ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII 
 
 Selingraan came into the restaurant with a huge 
 rose in his buttonhole and another bunch of flowers 
 carnations this time in his hands. He made 
 his way to the little round table where Julia and 
 Aaron were seated. 
 
 " For you, Miss Julia," he declared, depositing 
 them by her side. " Pin them in the front of your 
 frock. Drink wine to-night. Be gay. Let us see 
 pink, also, in your cheeks. It is a great evening, this. 
 Maraton is here? " 
 
 " Not yet," Jula answered, smiling. 
 
 Selingman sat down between them. He gave a 
 lengthy order to a waiter ; then he turned abruptly to 
 Julia. 
 
 "He will keep to it, }'ou think? This time you 
 believe that he has made up his mind? " 
 
 " I do," she asserted vigorously. 
 
 " What is he made of, that man ? " Selingman con- 
 tinued, sipping the Vermouth which he had just or- 
 dered. " He makes love to you, eh ? Ach ! never 
 mind your brother. For a man like Maraton, what 
 does it matter? You are of the right stuff. You 
 would be proud." 
 
 She looked steadily out of the restaurant. 
 
 ** I have been a worker," she said, " in a clothing 
 factory since I was old enough to stand up, and what
 
 3 i8 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 little time I have had to spare, I have spent in 
 study, in trying to fit myself for the fight against 
 thos-e things that you and I and all of us know of. 
 There has been no opportunity," she went on, more 
 slowly, " I have not allowed myself " 
 
 " Ah, but it comes it must come ! " Selingman in- 
 terrupted. " You have the instinct I am sure of 
 that. Use your power a little. It will be for his 
 good. Every man who neglects his passions, weak- 
 ens. You have the gifts, Julia. I tell you that 
 I, Selingman, who know much about woman and more 
 about love and life. You've felt it, too, yourself 
 sometimes in the quiet hours. Haven't you lain in 
 your bed with your eyes wide open, and seen the ceil- 
 ing roll away and the skies lean down, and felt the 
 thoughts come stealing into your brain, till all of a 
 sudden you found that your pulses were beating fast, 
 and your heart was trembling, and there was a sort 
 of faint music in your blood and in your ears? Ah, 
 well, one knows! Suffer yourself to think of these 
 hours when he is with you sometimes. Don't make 
 an ice maiden of yourself. You've done good work. 
 I know all about you. You could do more splendid 
 work still if you could weave that little spell which 
 you and I know of." 
 
 " It is too late," she sighed, " too late now. He 
 has become used to me. I am a machine nothing 
 more, to him. He does not even realise that I am a 
 woman." 
 
 " What do you expect ? " Aaron asked harshly. 
 " Why should a man, with great things in his brain, 
 waste a moment in thinking of women ? "
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 319 
 
 Selingman's under-lip shot out, a queer little way 
 he had of showing his contempt. 
 
 " Little man," he told Aaron, " you are a fanatic. 
 You do not understand. It is a quarter past nine 
 and I am hungry. . . . Ah ! " 
 
 Maraton came in just then. He had the air of a 
 man who has been through a crisis, but his eyes were 
 bright as though with triumph. Selingman stood up 
 and filled a glass with wine. 
 
 " The first rivet has been driven home," he cried. 
 " I see it." 
 
 " It has indeed," Maraton answered. " For good 
 or for evil, the railway strike is decided upon. There 
 is civil war waging now, I can tell you," he added, 
 as he sat down. " Graveling was there with a mes- 
 sage. The whole of the Labour Party is against 
 the strike. The leaders of the men are hot for it, 
 and the men themselves. There wasn't a single one 
 of them who hesitated. Ernshaw, who represents the 
 Union, told me that there wasn't one of them who 
 wouldn't get the sack if he dared to waver. They 
 know what the Government did in Lancashire and 
 they know what they tried to do at Sheffield. With 
 the railway companies they'll have even more influ- 
 ence." 
 
 " Let us dine," Selingman insisted, welcoming the 
 approach of the waiters. " You see me, a man of 
 forty-five, robust, the picture of health. How do I 
 do it ? In this manner. When I dine, all cares go to 
 the winds. When I dine, I forget the hard places, I 
 let my brain free of its burden. I talk nonsense I 
 love best with a pretty woman. To-night we will
 
 320 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 talk with Miss Julia. You see, I have brought her 
 more flowers. She does not wear them, but they lie 
 by her plate." 
 
 " I have never worn an ornament in my life," Julia 
 told him, " and I don't think that any one has ever 
 given me flowers." 
 
 Selingman groaned. 
 
 " Oh, what pitiful words ! " he exclaimed. " If 
 there is one thing sadder in life than the slavery of 
 the people, it is to find a woman who has forgotten 
 her sex. Almost you inspire me, young lady, with 
 the desire to take you by the hand and offer you 
 my escort into the gentler ways. If I were sure of 
 success, not even my fair friends on the other side 
 of the Channel could keep me from your feet. Mara- 
 ton, look away from the walls. There's nothing be- 
 yond just a world full of fancies. There's some 
 Sole Otero on your plate which is worth tasting, and 
 there's champagne in your glass. What matter if 
 there are troubles outside? That's good there is 
 music." 
 
 He beckoned to the chef d'orchestre, engaged him 
 for a few moments in conversation, poured him out 
 a glass of wine, and slipped something into his hand. 
 Then he recommenced his dinner with a chuckle of 
 satisfaction. 
 
 " The little man can play," he declared. " He has 
 it in his fingers. We shall hear now the waltzes 
 that I love. Ah, Miss Julia, why is this not Paris! 
 Why can I not get up and put my arm around your 
 waist and whisper in your ear as we float round and 
 round in a waltz ? Stupid questions ! I am too short
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 321 
 
 to dance with you, for one thing, and much too fat.. 
 But one loves to imagine. Listen." 
 
 Maraton had already set down his knife and fork* 
 The strains of the waltz had come to him with a queer 
 note of familiarity, a familiarity which at first he 
 found elusive. Then, as the movement progressed, 
 he remembered. Once more he was sitting in that 
 distant corner of the winter garden, hearing every 
 now and then the faint sound of the orchestra from 
 the ballroom. It was the same waltz ; alas, the same 
 music was warming his blood! And it was too late 
 now. He had passed into the other world. In his 
 pocket lay the letter which he had received that even- 
 ing from Mr. Foley a few dignified lines of bitter 
 disappointment. He was an outcast, one who might 
 even soon be regarded as the wrecker of his own coun- 
 try. And still the music grew and faded and grew 
 again. 
 
 It was late before they had finished dinner, and 
 Maraton took Selingman to one side. 
 
 " Remember," he insisted, " it is a bargain. Be- 
 fore I go north I must see Maxendorf." 
 
 Selingman nodded. 
 
 " It is arranged," he said. " We both agreed that 
 it was better for you not to go to the hotel. Wait." 
 
 He glanced at his watch and nodded. 
 
 " Stay with your brother, little one," he directed,, 
 turning to Julia. " We shall be away only a few 
 moments. Come." 
 
 "Where are we going?" Maraton enquired, as 
 they passed through the restaurant and ascended the 
 stairs.
 
 322 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 Selingman placed his finger by the side of his 
 nose. 
 
 " A plan of mine," he whispered. " Maxendorf 
 is here, in a private room." 
 
 Selingman hurried his companion into a small pri- 
 vate dining-room. Maxendorf was sitting there 
 alone, smoking a cigarette over the remnants of an 
 unpretentious feast. He welcomed them without a 
 smile; his aspect, indeed, as he waved his hand to- 
 wards a chair, was almost forbidding. 
 
 " What do you want with me, Maraton ? " he asked. 
 " They tell me Selingman tells me there was a 
 word you had to say before you press the levers. 
 Say it, then, and remember that hereafter, the less 
 communication between you and me the better." 
 
 Maraton ignored the chair. He stood a little way 
 inside the room. Through the partially opened win- 
 dow came the ceaseless roar of traffic from the busy 
 street below. 
 
 " Maxendorf," he began, " there isn't much to be 
 said. You know Selingman has told you what 
 my decision is. It took me some time to make up 
 my mind only because I doubted one thing, and 
 one thing alone, in the world. That one thing, Max- 
 endorf, was your good faith." 
 
 Maxendorf lifted his eyes swiftly. 
 
 " You doubted me," he repeated. 
 
 " You're a people's man, I know," Maraton went 
 one, " but here and there one finds queer traits in 
 your character. They say that you are also a pa- 
 triot and a schemer." 
 
 " They say truly," Maxendorf admitted, " yet
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 323 
 
 these things are by the way. They occupy a little 
 cell of life no more. It is for the people I live 
 and breathe." 
 
 " For the people of the world," Maraton persisted 
 slowly " for humanity ? Is there any difference in 
 your mind, Maxendorf, between the people of one 
 country and the people of another ? " 
 
 Maxendorf never faltered. His long narrow face 
 was turned steadily towards Maraton. His eyebrows 
 were drawn together. He spoke slowly and with 
 great distinctness. 
 
 " I am for humanity," he declared. " Many of 
 the people of my country I have already freed. It 
 is for the sufferers in other lands that I toil in these 
 days. If I am a patriot, it is because it is part of 
 my political outfit, and a political outfit is necessary 
 to the man who labours as I have laboured." 
 
 " So be it, then," Maraton decided. " I accept 
 your words. Within a month from this time, the revo- 
 lution will be here. This land will be laid waste, the 
 terror will be brewed. I fear nothing, Maxendorf, 
 but as one man to another I have come to tell you, 
 before I start north, that if in your heart there is 
 a single grain of deceit, if ever it shall be made clear 
 to me that I have been made the cat's-paw of what 
 you have called patriotism, if the people of this coun- 
 try have left a breath of life in my body, I shall 
 dedicate it to a purpose at which you can guess." 
 
 " It is to threaten me that you have come ? " Max- 
 endorf asked quietly. 
 
 " Don't put it like that," Maraton replied. 
 " These are just the words which you yourself can-
 
 3 2 4 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 not fail to understand. Neither you nor I hold life 
 so dearly that the thought of losing it need make us 
 quaver. I am here only to say this one word to tell 
 you that the heavens have never opened more surely 
 to let out the lightning, than will your death be a 
 charge upon me if you should vary even a hair's- 
 breadth from our contract. If Maxendorf, the peo- 
 ple's man, hides himself for only a moment in the 
 shadow of Maxendorf the politician, he shall die ! " 
 
 Maxendorf held out his hand. 
 
 " Death," he said scornfully, " is not the greatest 
 ill with which you could threaten me, but let it be so. 
 Humanity shall be our motto no other." 
 
 " You spar at one another," Selingman declared, 
 ** like a couple of sophists. You are both men of 
 the truth, you are both on your way to the light. I 
 give you my benediction. I watch over you I, Sel- 
 ingman. I am the witness of the joining of your 
 hands. Unlock the gates without fear, Maraton. 
 Maxendorf will do his work."
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV 
 
 About seven miles from London, Selingman gave 
 the signal for the car to pull up. They drew in by 
 the side of the road and they all stood up in their 
 places. Before them, the red glow which hung over 
 the city was almost lurid; strange volumes of smoke 
 were rising to the sky. 
 
 " Rioters," Selingman muttered. 
 
 Julia looked around with a little shiver. There 
 were no trams running, and a great many of the shops 
 were closed. Some of the people lounging about in 
 the streets had the air of holiday makers. Little 
 bands of men were marching arm in arm, shouting. 
 Occasionally one of them picked up a stone and threw 
 it through a shop window. They had not seen a po- 
 liceman for miles. 
 
 " It is the beginning of the end," Maraton said 
 slowly. " The only pity is that one must see it at 
 all." 
 
 Julia pointed down the road. 
 
 " What is that? " she asked. 
 
 A long, grey-looking line was slowly unwinding 
 itself into the level road. It came into sight like a 
 serpent. It reached as far as the eye could see. 
 From somewhere behind, they heard the sound of 
 music. 
 
 " Soldiers," Maraton replied " marching, too."
 
 326 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 They moved the car over to the other side of the 
 road. Presently a mounted officer galloped on ahead 
 and rode up to them. 
 
 " Your name and address, please ? " 
 
 Maraton hesitated. 
 
 " Why do you ask for it? " he demanded. 
 
 " I am sorry to inform you that your car must be 
 surrendered at once," was the reply. " I hope we 
 shall not inconvenience you very much but those are 
 the general orders. Every motor car is to be com- 
 mandeered. Sorry for the lady. Give me your name 
 and address, please, at once, the cost price of your 
 car, and how long it has been in your possession? " 
 
 Selingman gasped. 
 
 " Is the country at war? " he asked. " We have 
 come from South Wales to-day. We heard nothing 
 en route." 
 
 " There are no newspapers being issued," the of- 
 ficer told them. " The telegraph is abandoned to the 
 Government, and also the telephone. Even we have 
 no idea what is happening. We are trying to run 
 a few trains through to the north but we have had a 
 couple of hundred men killed already. They are to 
 start again the other side of Romford. In the 
 meantime, I am sorry, but I am bound to take pos- 
 session of your car at once." 
 
 " My name is Selingman." 
 
 The officer looked at him curiously. 
 
 " Are you Henry Selingman," he enquired " I 
 mean the fellow who has been writing about Mara- 
 ton? " 
 
 Selingman nodded.
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 327 
 
 " Then I am afraid I can't say I do feel so sorry to 
 inconvenience you," the officer continued grimly. 
 *' Alight at once, if you please all of you." 
 
 " But how are we to get into London? " Selingman 
 protested. 
 
 " Walk," the officer replied promptly. " Be 
 thankful if you reach there at all; and keep to the 
 main streets, especially if the lady is going with 
 you." 
 
 " Are there no police left ? " Maraton demanded. 
 
 " We drafted most of them away to the riot cen- 
 tres. Then the train service ceased, too, and they 
 haven't been able to come back. Now we have had 
 an alarm from somewhere I don't know where 
 and we've got orders to push troops towards the east 
 coast. If you'll take my advice, Mr. Selingman," 
 the officer concluded, " you'll keep your name to your- 
 self for a little time. People who've been associated 
 in any way with Maraton are not too popular just 
 now around here." 
 
 Some more officers had ridden up. Two were al- 
 ready in the car. Soon it vanished in a cloud of dust 
 on its way back. Julia, Selingman, Aaron and Mara- 
 ton were left in the road, along which the soldiers 
 were still marching. They started out to walk. 
 Now and then a motor-car rattled by, full of soldiers, 
 but for the most part the streets were almost empty. 
 No one spoke to them or attempted to molest them 
 in any way. As they drew nearer London, however, 
 the streets became more and more crowded. Men in 
 the middle of the road were addressing little knots 
 of listeners. There was a complete row of shops, the
 
 3 28 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 plate-glass windows of which had been knocked in 
 and the contents raided. They pushed steadily on- 
 wards. Here and there, little groups of loiterers 
 assumed a threatening aspect. They came across the 
 dead body of a man lying upon the pavement. No 
 one seemed to mind. Very few of the passers-by 
 even glanced at him. Selingman shivered. 
 
 " Ghastly ! " he muttered. " This reminds me of 
 the first days of the French troubles. How quiet 
 the people keep! They are tired of robbing for 
 money. It is food they want. A sandwich just now 
 would be a dangerous possession." 
 
 They reached Algate. There were still no trams 
 running, and nearly all the houses were tightly shut- 
 tered. 
 
 " Six weeks ! " Maraton murmured to himself as 
 he looked around. " Could any one believe that this 
 might happen in six weeks ! " 
 
 " Why not ? " Selingman demanded. " You stop 
 the arteries of life when you stop all communication 
 from centre to centre. It's the most merciful way, 
 after all. Everything will be over the sooner." 
 
 They passed down Threadneedle Street, a wilder- 
 ness with boards nailed up in front of the great 
 bank windows. A little further on there was the 
 usual crowd of people, but they were all hanging 
 about, uncertain what to do. There was no Stock 
 Exchange business being transacted, simply because 
 there were no buyers. At the Mansion House they 
 found a few 'buses running, and managed to board one 
 which was going westwards. It set them down in 
 New Oxford Street, not far from Russell Square.
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 329 
 
 Here there were denser crowds than ever. The en- 
 tance to the square itself was almost blocked. 
 
 " What's going on here? " Maraton asked a 
 loiterer. 
 
 They heard a loud, hoarse yell, repeated several 
 times. The man pointed with his finger. 
 
 " They are round Maraton's house," he answered. 
 ** They have broken in all his windows. He's not 
 there or they'd have had him out and flayed him 
 alive." 
 
 A brief silence ensued. There seemed something 
 ominous in this message, delivered apparently from 
 one typical of his class, a worker out of work, a pipe 
 in his mouth, a generally aimless air about his move- 
 ments. 
 
 " But forgive me," Selingman remarked, " I am 
 a stranger in this country. I have been told that 
 Maraton is a friend of the people." 
 
 The man nodded gloomily. 
 
 " There's plenty that calls him so in other parts 
 of the country," he assented. " I belong to a Work- 
 ing Man's Club and what we can't see is what's the 
 bally use of a job like this? He's bitten off more 
 than he can chew that's what Maraton's done. 
 He's stopped the railways and the coal, and even you 
 can tell what that means, I suppose, sir? Pretty 
 well every factory in the country is shutting down 
 or has shut down. Well, supposing the Government 
 make terms, which they say they can't. The miners 
 and railway men may get a bit more. What about 
 all the rest of us? We're more likely to get a bit 
 less. Then what if the Germans get over here?
 
 330 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 There's all sorts of rumours about this morning. 
 They say that three-quarters of the fleet is hung up 
 for want of coal. . . . My! Look there, they've 
 fired his house! I wouldn't be in his shoes for some- 
 thing! They say he's hiding up in Northumber- 
 land." 
 
 The man passed on. Maraton was the first to 
 speak. 
 
 " Come," he said quietly, " there is nothing here 
 to be discouraged at. We knew very well that for 
 the first few months years, perhaps this thing 
 had to be faced. We must get rooms somewhere. 
 I have to meet the railway men to-night. Young 
 Ernshaw rode up from Derby on a motor-cycle to 
 make the appointment. As for you, Selingman," 
 Maraton went on, as they turned back towards New 
 Oxford Street, " why do you stay here ? Your com- 
 ing has been splendid. It has been a joy to have 
 you near. But between ourselves," he added, lower- 
 ing his voice, " you know what mobs are. Take my 
 advice and get back home for a time. We shall meet 
 again." 
 
 Selingman shook his head. 
 
 " I helped to light the torch," he declared. " I'll 
 see it burn for a while. I was in Paris through the 
 last riots a dirty sight it was ! You'll pull 
 through this. Maybe we're better apart for a time. 
 But we'll see one another housed first," he added. " I 
 want to know where you all are." 
 
 There was no difficulty about shelter of a sort. 
 The private hotels, which were plentiful in the neigh- 
 bourhood, were half empty, and supplied rooms
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 331 
 
 readily enough, although they were curiously apa- 
 thetic about the matter. At each one of them the 
 charges for food were enormous. Maraton divided 
 a bundle of notes into half and made Aaron take 
 one portion. 
 
 " Look after Julia," he directed, " and I think 
 you'd better keep away from me. A good many of 
 them knew that you were my secretary. Look after 
 your sister. Keep quiet for a time. Wait." 
 
 He tore a sheet of paper from his pocket-book, 
 wrote a few lines upon it and twisted it up. 
 
 " You will find an address in New York there," 
 he said. " If anything happens to me, go over and 
 present it in person." 
 
 Aaron took it almost mechanically. His eyes 
 scarcely for a second had left his master's face. 
 
 " Let me stay here," he begged, " if it's only an 
 attic. There may be work to be done. Let me stay, 
 sir. My little bit of life is of no more account to 
 me than a snap of the fingers. Don't send me away. 
 Julia's a woman they won't hurt her. She can go 
 back to her old rooms. The streets are quite orderly. 
 Let me stay, sir ! " 
 
 " No one seemed to notice us come in," Julia 
 pleaded. " Let me stay, too. You heard what the 
 porter said we could choose what rooms we liked. 
 It is safer in this part of London than in the East 
 End, and you know," she added, looking at him 
 steadily, " that if there is trouble to come, I have no 
 fear." 
 
 Maraton hesitated. Perhaps they were as well 
 where they were, under shelter. He nodded.
 
 332 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 " Very well," he agreed. " There seems to be no 
 one to show us about. We will go and select rooms." 
 
 In the hall they passed a man in the livery of the 
 hotel. Maraton enquired the way to the telephone, 
 but he only shook his head. 
 
 " Telephone isn't working, sir," he announced, 
 " not to private subscribers, at any rate. They 
 haven't answered a call for two days." 
 
 "Are any meals being served in the restaurant? " 
 Maraton asked. 
 
 The man shook his head. 
 
 " Not regular meals, sir," he replied. " What 
 food we've got is all locked up. You can get some- 
 thing between eight and nine. We close the hotel 
 doors then." 
 
 " They tell me I can select any room I like up- 
 stairs that isn't occupied," Maraton remarked. 
 
 The porter nodded. 
 
 " Nearly all the servants have gone," he explained, 
 " so they can't try to run the hotel. Gone out to 
 find food somewhere. They couldn't feed them 
 here." 
 
 " Is there wine in the place ? " Selingman asked. 
 
 " Plenty," the man answered. 
 
 " If needs be, then, we will carouse," Selingman 
 declared. " First, a wash. Then I will forage. 
 Leave it to me to forage, you others. I know the 
 tricks. I shall not go away. I shall stay here with 
 you." 
 
 They selected rooms Maraton and Selingman 
 adjoining ones on the first floor; the others higher up. 
 Then Selingman departed on his expedition, and
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 333 
 
 Maraton sat down before the window in the sitting- 
 room. He drew aside the curtain and stared. They 
 had been in the hotel rather less than half an hour, 
 but the autumn twilight had deepened rapidly. 
 Darkness had fallen upon the city a strange, un- 
 redeemed darkness. The street lamps were unlit. 
 It was as though a black hand had been laid upon 
 the place. Only here and there the sky was reddened 
 as though with conflagration. Maraton's head sunk 
 upon his arms. These, indeed, were the days when 
 he would need all his courage. He threw open the 
 window. There was a curious silence without. The 
 roar of traffic had ceased entirely. The only sound 
 was the footfall of the people upon the pavement. 
 He looked down into the street, crowded with little 
 knots of men, one or two of them carrying torches. 
 He watched them stream by. It was the breaking 
 up of the crowd which had gathered together to sack 
 and burn his house. 
 
 The door was softly opened and closed again. 
 He turned half around. Through the shadows he 
 saw Julia's pale face as she came swiftly towards 
 him. With a sudden gesture she fell on her knees 
 by his side. Her fingers clasped him, she clung to 
 his arm. 
 
 " Ah, I knew that I should find you like this ! " 
 she cried. " Don't look down into the street, don't 
 look at those unlit places! Look up to the skies. 
 See, there is a star there already. Nothing up there 
 nothing which really matters is altered. This 
 is only the destruction that must come before the
 
 334 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 dawn. It was you yourself who prophesied it, you 
 yourself who saw it so clearly. Oh, don't be sad 
 because you have pulled down the pillars! It isn't 
 so very long before the morning." 
 
 He passed his arm around her and gripped her 
 fingers tightly. So they were sitting when, by and 
 by, Selingman burst into the room.
 
 CHAPTER XXXV 
 
 Selingman was once more entirely his old self. He 
 staggered into the room with a tin of biscuits under 
 one arm, and three bottles of hock under the other, 
 all of which he deposited noisily upon the round table 
 in the middle of the room. 
 
 " I am the prince of caterers," he declared. " I 
 surpass myself. Come out of the shadows, you 
 dreamer. There is work to be done, food to be eaten, 
 wine to be drunk." 
 
 From his left-hand pocket he produced three can- 
 dles, which he placed at intervals along the mantel- 
 piece and lit. Then for the first time he saw Julia. 
 
 " Ah," he cried, " our inspiration ! Congratulate 
 yourself, dear Miss Julia. After all, you are going 
 to dine or sup, or whatever meal you may choose to 
 call it. Behold!" 
 
 From his other pocket he produced two great jars 
 of potted meat, a jar of jam, a handful of miscellane- 
 ous knives and forks, and a corkscrew. 
 
 " I have found an intelligent person here," he con- 
 fided to them. " He has shown me the way to the 
 wine cellar. Only the landlord and he are permitted 
 to fetch wine. They fear a raid. Niersteiner, of a 
 reasonable vintage." 
 
 " I will fetch Aaron," Julia said as she left the 
 room.
 
 336 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 " The girl worships you, and you're a beast to her," 
 Selingman exclaimed, his eyes fixed upon the door 
 through which she had vanished. " A man, indeed ! 
 A creature of wood and sawdust ! Listen ! " 
 
 His hand flashed out, his hand which grasped still 
 the corkscrew. 
 
 " Listen, you man from the clouds," he continued. 
 " I shall rob you of her. I adore her. To-day she 
 may think me merely fat and eccentric. Don't rely 
 upon that. I have the gift when I choose. I can 
 tell fairy tales, I can creep a little way into her mind 
 and fill her brain with delicate fancies, build images 
 there and destroy them, play softly upon the keynote 
 of her emotions, until one day she will wake up and 
 what will have happened? She will be mine! " 
 
 He banged the table with the bottle of wine he 
 was holding. Then, with great care and accuracy, he 
 drew the cork. 
 
 " Your health ! " he cried, raising his glass. " Ah, 
 no ! I have not sipped the wine. I change the toast. 
 To Julia!" 
 
 Maraton rose to his feet, and turned his back upon 
 the gloomy darkness which brooded over the city. 
 He took the glass of wine which Selingman was hold- 
 ing out and leaned towards him earnestly. 
 
 " My friend," he said, " it seems strange to me 
 that we speak of these things at such an hour. Yet 
 let me tell you something. I don't know why I want 
 to tell you, but I do. I am not, perhaps, quite what 
 you think me. Only, the night you and I went north 
 together, the gates of that world which you speak of 
 so easily were closed behind me."
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 337 
 
 *' It was the other woman," Selingman exclaimed. 
 
 " It was the other woman," Maraton echoed. 
 
 Selingman set down the bottle upon the table. Two 
 great tears rolled down from his blue eyes. He held 
 out both his hands and gripped Maraton's. 
 
 " My friend," he said, " now indeed I love you ! 
 We are twin souls. You, too, are human as you are 
 wonderful. You see what an old woman I am. This 
 sentiment oh, it will be the end of me ! But tell 
 me I must know. It was because you went north 
 that it was ended ? " 
 
 Maraton nodded slowly. 
 
 " I chose the opposite camp," he answered. 
 "What could I do?" 
 
 *' Nature," Selingman declared, brandishing a 
 great silk handkerchief, " is the queerest mistress who 
 ever played pranks with us. Here, in the same camp, 
 dwells a divinity, and you you must peer down 
 into the lower world. . . . Never mind, potted meat 
 and hock are good. Julia," he added, turning his 
 head at the sound of the opening door, " to genius in 
 adversity all gentle familiarities are permitted. I 
 grant myself the privilege of your Christian name. 
 Come and grace our feast. I have found food and 
 wine. I am your self-appointed caterer. There is 
 no butter, but that is simply one of those pleasant 
 tests for us, a test of will and fortitude. All my 
 life until to-night I have loved butter. From hence- 
 forth until we can get it again I detest it. Let 
 us eat, drink and be merry. Where is Aaron? " 
 
 " He went out into the streets," Julia replied. 
 *' He will be back presently."
 
 338 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 Aaron came in a few minutes later, struggling with 
 the weight of the parcels he was carrying. He laid 
 them down upon the sideboard, and turned towards 
 Maraton with an air of triumph. 
 
 " I've been there, sir," he announced. " I've got 
 the letters, your private dispatch box, and a lot of 
 papers we needed. It's only the outside walls of the 
 house that are charred. The fire was put out almost 
 at once. And I've seen Ernshaw." 
 
 Maraton's eyes were lit with pleasure. 
 
 " You're a fine fellow, Aaron," he commended. 
 
 " I've got my bicycle, too," Aaron continued. " I 
 can get half over London, if necessary, while you 
 stay here." 
 
 " Tell me about Ernshaw? " Maraton begged 
 quickly. 
 
 " He's loyal they all are," Aaron cried. " Oh, 
 you should hear him talk about Peter Dale and Gravel- 
 ing, and that lot ! They're spread up north now, all 
 of them, trying to kill the strike. And the men won't 
 move anywhere. His own miners wouldn't listen to 
 Dale. Mr. Foley sent him up to Newcastle in his 
 motor-car. They played a garden hose on him and 
 burned an effigy of himself, dressed in old woman's 
 clothes. Mr. Foley's had the railway men to Down- 
 ing Street twice, but they've never wavered. Ern- 
 shaw is splendid. There are seven of them, and 
 Ernshaw's own words were that they've made up their 
 minds that grass could grow in the tracks and hell 
 fires scorch up the land before they'd go back to 
 slavery. They're for you, sir, body and soul. They 
 won't give in."
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 339 
 
 " Thank God ! " Maraton muttered. " What about 
 the mob?" 
 
 " Loafers and wastrels," Aaron exclaimed indig- 
 nantly, " dirty parasites of humanity, thieves ; not 
 an honest worker amongst them! They're the sort 
 who shouted themselves hoarse on Mafeking night 
 and hid in their holes when the war drums were call- 
 ing. The authorities got a hundred police from 
 somewhere, and they crumbled away like rats running 
 for their holes. Ernshaw asks you not to go back 
 to Russell Square because of the difficulty of getting 
 at you, but this was his message to you, sir, when I 
 told him of your arrival. He begged me to tell you 
 that they were the scum of the earth ; that from New- 
 castle to the Thames the men who stand idle to-day 
 wait in faith and trust for your word and yours only. 
 He will be here before long." 
 
 Selingman nodded ponderously. His mouth was 
 very full, but he did not delay his speech. 
 
 " You have brought a splendid message, young 
 man," he pronounced. " Sit down and eat with us. 
 Exercise your imagination but a little and you will 
 indeed believe that you have been bidden to a feast of 
 Lucullus. Has any one, I wonder, ever appreciated 
 the marvellous and yet subtle sympathy which can 
 exist between potted meat and biscuits especially 
 when washed down with hock? Join us, my young 
 friend Aaron. Abandon yourself with us to the 
 pleasure of the table. We will discuss any subject 
 upon the earth except butter ! Miss Julia, do you 
 know where I shall go when I leave here? No? I 
 go to seek chocolates and flowers for you."
 
 340 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 She laughed gaily. 
 
 " Chocolates and flowers," she repeated, *' at ten 
 o'clock at night ! And for me, too ! " 
 
 " And why not for you ? " Selingman demanded, 
 almost indignantly. " You are like all enthusiasts 
 of your sex. You are too intense, you concentrate 
 too much. You have lived in a cold and austere 
 atmosphere. You have waited a long time for the 
 hand which is to lead you into the sunshine." 
 
 She laughed at him once more, yet perhaps this 
 time a little wistfully. 
 
 " Very well," she promised, " I will reform. I will 
 eat all the chocolates you can bring me, and I will 
 sleep with your flowers at my bedside. There ! Am 
 I improving? " 
 
 Selingman rose to his feet. He drained his glass 
 of wine and lit one of his long black cigars by the 
 flame of the candle. 
 
 " Dear Julia," he said, " you have spoken. I start 
 on the quest of my life."
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI 
 
 Selingman had scarcely left the place when Ern- 
 shaw arrived, piloted into the room by Aaron, who 
 had been waiting for him below. Maraton and he 
 gripped hands heartily. During the first few days 
 of the campaign they had been constant companions. 
 
 *' At least," he declared, as he looked into Mara- 
 ton's face, " whatever the world may think of the 
 justice of their cause, no one will ever any longer 
 deny the might of the people." 
 
 " None but fools ever did deny it," Maraton 
 answered. 
 
 " How are they in the north ? " Ernshaw asked. 
 
 " United and confident," Maraton assured him. 
 " Up there I don't think they realise the position so 
 much as here. In Nottingham and Leicester, people 
 are leading their usual daily lives. It was only as we 
 neared London that one began to understand." 
 
 " London is paralysed with fear," Ernshaw as- 
 serted, " perhaps with reason. The Government are 
 working the telephones and telegraph to a very small 
 extent. The army engineers are doing the best they, 
 can with the East Coast railways." 
 
 "What about Dale and his friends?" 
 
 Ernshaw's dark, sallow face was lit with triumph. 
 
 " They are flustered to death like a lot of rabbits 
 in the middle of a cornfield, with the reapers at
 
 342 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 work ! " he exclaimed. " Heckled and terrified to 
 death ! Cecil was at them the other night. ' Are 
 you not,' he cried, ' the representatives of the people ? * 
 Wilmott was in the House one of us treasurer 
 for the Amalgamated Society, and while Dale was 
 hesitating, he sprang up. ' Before God, no ! ' he 
 answered. * There isn't a Labour Member in this 
 House who stands for more than the constituency he 
 represents, or is here for more than the salary he 
 draws. The cause of the people is in safer hands.' 
 Then they called for you. There have been questions 
 about your whereabouts every day. They wanted to 
 impeach you for high treason. Through all the 
 storm, Foley is the only man who has kept quiet. He 
 sent for me. I referred him to you." 
 
 " The time for conferences is past," Maraton said 
 firmly. 
 
 " We know it," Ernshaw replied. " What's the 
 good of them ? A sop for the men, a pat on the back 
 for their leaders, a buttering Press, and a public who 
 cares only how much or how little they are inconve- 
 nienced. We have had enough of that. My men 
 must wake into a new life, or sleep for ever." 
 
 ** What is the foreign news ? " Maraton asked. 
 
 " All uncertain. The air is full of rumours. 
 Several Atlantic liners are late, and reports have come 
 by wireless of a number of strange cruisers off 
 Queenstown. Personally, I don't think that anything 
 definite has been done. The moment to strike isn't 
 yet. The Admiralty have been working like slaves 
 to get coal to their fleet." 
 
 " You came alone ? " Maraton enquired.
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 343 
 
 Ernshaw nodded. 
 
 " I came alone because the seven of us are as men 
 with one heart. We are with you into hell ! " 
 
 " And the men," Maraton continued, " I wonder 
 how many of them realise what they may have to go 
 through." 
 
 " You stirred something up in them," Ernshaw said 
 slowly, " something they have never felt before. You 
 made them feel that they have the right of nature to 
 live a dignified life, -and to enjoy a certain share of 
 the profits of their labour, not as a grudgingly given 
 wage but as a law-established right. There's a feel- 
 ing born in them that's new it's done them good 
 already. I never heard so little grumbling at the 
 pay. I think it's in their heart that they're fighting 
 for a principle this time, and not for an extra coin 
 dragged from the unwilling pockets of men who have 
 no human right to be the janitors of what their 
 labour produces. They've got the proper feeling at 
 last, sir. You've touched something which is as near 
 the religious sense as anything a man can feel who 
 has no call that way. It's something that will last, 
 too ! Their womenkind have laid hold of it. When 
 they start life again, they mean to start on a different 
 plane." 
 
 "How are the accounts lasting out?" Maraton 
 asked. 
 
 Ernshaw produced some books from his pocket and 
 they sat down at the table. 
 
 " We're not so badly off for money," he declared. 
 " It's the purchasing power of it that's making things 
 difficult. I have spread the people out as much as I
 
 344 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 can. It's the best chance, but next week will be a 
 black one." 
 
 They pored over the figures for a time. Outside, 
 the streets were almost as silent as death. Suddenly 
 the door was thrown open, and they both looked up 
 hastily. Selingman stood there, but Selingman trans- 
 formed. All the colour seemed to have left his 
 cheeks ; his eyes were burning with a steely fire. He 
 closed the door behind him and he shivered where he 
 stood. Maraton sprang to his feet. 
 
 " What, in God's name, has happened, man ? " he 
 cried. "Quick!" 
 
 Selingman came a little further into the room. He 
 raised his hands above his head; his voice was thick 
 with horror. 
 
 " I have betrayed you ! " he moaned. " I have be- 
 trayed the people ! " 
 
 He stood there, still trembling. Maraton poured 
 him out wine, but he swept it away. 
 
 " No more of those things for me ! " he continued. 
 " Listen to my tale. If there is a God, may he hear 
 me ! By every line I have written, by every world of 
 fancy into which I have been led, by every particle 
 of what nations have called my genius, I swear that I 
 speak the truth ! " 
 
 " I believe you," Maraton said. " Go on. Tell me 
 quickly." 
 
 " I trusted Maxendorf," Selingman proceeded, his 
 voice shaking, " trusted and loved him as a brother. 
 I have been his tool and his dupe ! " 
 
 Maraton felt himself suddenly at the edge of the 
 world. He leaned over and looked into the abyss
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 345 
 
 called hell. For a moment he shivered; then he set 
 his teeth. 
 
 " Go on," he repeated. 
 
 " Maxendorf and I have spoken many times of 
 the future of this country. The dream which he 
 outlined for you, he has spoken of to me with glit- 
 tering eyes, with heaving chest, with trembling voice. 
 It was his scheme that I should take you to him. 
 You, too, believed as I did. To-night I visited him. 
 I stepped in upon the one weak moment of his life. 
 He needed a confidant. He was bursting with joy 
 and triumph. He showed me his heart ; he showed me 
 the great and terrible hatred which burns there for 
 England and everything English. The people's man, 
 he calls himself! He is for the people of his own 
 country and his own country only ! You and I have 
 been the tools of his crafty schemes. This country, 
 if he possesses it, he will occupy as a conqueror. He 
 will set his heel upon it. He will demand the great- 
 est indemnity of all times. And every penny of it 
 will flow into his beloved land. We thought that the 
 dawn had come, we poor, miserable and deluded vic- 
 tims of his craft. We are dooming the people of 
 this country to generations of slavery ! " 
 
 Maraton for a moment sat quite still. When he 
 spoke, his tone was singularly matter-of-fact. 
 
 " Where is Maxendorf? " he asked. 
 
 " Still at the hotel. The Embassy was not ready,, 
 and he has made excuses. He is more his own mas- 
 ter there." 
 
 Maraton turned to Ernshaw. 
 
 " Ernshaw," he begged, " wait here for me. Wait."
 
 346 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 He took up his hat and left the room. Sellngman 
 stood almost as though he were praying. 
 
 " Now," he muttered, " is the time for the strong 
 man ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII 
 
 Into the salon of Maxendorfs suite at the Ritz 
 Hotel, freed for a moment from its constant stream 
 of callers, came suddenly, without announcement 
 from a place of hiding, indeed Maraton. He 
 stepped into the room swiftly and closed the door. 
 Maxendorf was standing with his back to his visitor, 
 bending over a map. 
 
 "Who's that?" he asked, without looking up. 
 " You, Franz? You, Beldeman? " 
 
 There was no reply. Maxendorf straightened his 
 gaunt figure and turned around. He stood there mo- 
 tionless, the palm of one hand covering the map at 
 which he had been gazing, the lamplight shining on 
 his gaunt, strangely freckled face. 
 
 "You!" he muttered. 
 
 Maraton remained still speechless. Maxendorf 
 stretched out his hand for the telephone, but before 
 he could grasp it, his hand was struck into the air. 
 He wasted no time asking useless questions. His 
 visitor's face was enough. 
 
 " What have you to gain by this ? " he demanded. 
 " Even if you could take my life, it will alter noth- 
 ing." 
 
 Maraton caught him fiercely by the throat. 
 Maxendorf, notwithstanding his superior height, was 
 powerless. He was forced slowly backwards across
 
 34 8 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 the couch, on to the floor. Maraton knelt by his side. 
 His grasp was never for a second relaxed. 
 
 " I leave you to-night," Maraton whispered, " with 
 a gasp or two of life in you, but remember this. If 
 I fail to undo your work, as sure as I live, I will keep 
 my word. My hand shall find your throat again 
 your throat, do you hear? and shall hold you there, 
 tighter and tighter, until the life slips out of your 
 body, just as it is almost slipping now ! " 
 
 Maxendorf was unconscious. Maraton suddenly 
 threw him away. Then he left the room, rang for the 
 lift and made his way once more out into the street. 
 Piccadilly was a shadowy wilderness. St. James's 
 Street was thronged with soldiers marching into the 
 Park. Maraton pursued his way steadily into Pall 
 Mall and Downing Street. Even here there were very 
 few people, and the front of Mr. Foley's house was 
 almost deserted, save for one or two curious loiterers 
 and a couple of policemen. Maraton rang the bell 
 and found no trouble in obtaining admittance. The 
 butler, however, shook his head when asked if Mr. 
 Foley was at home. 
 
 " Mr. Foley is at the War Office, sir," he announced. 
 " We cannot tell what time to expect him." 
 
 " I shall wait," Maraton replied. " My business 
 is of urgent importance." 
 
 The butler made no difficulty. He recognised 
 Maraton as a guest of the house and he showed him 
 into the smaller library, which was generally used as 
 a waiting-room for more important visitors. It was 
 the room in which Maraton had had his first conver- 
 sation with Mr. Foley. He looked around him with
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 349 
 
 faint, half painful curiosity. It was like a place 
 which he had known well in some other life. It seemed 
 impossible to believe that he was the same man, or 
 that this was the same room. Yet it was barely four 
 months ago! Too restless to sit still, he walked up 
 and down the apartment with quick, unsteady foot- 
 steps. Then suddenly the door opened. Elisabeth 
 appeared. She recognised Maraton and started. 
 She looked at him with a fixed, incredulous stare. 
 
 "You?" she exclaimed. "You here? What do 
 you want? " 
 
 " Your uncle," he answered. " How long will he 
 be?" 
 
 She closed the door behind her with trembling fin- 
 gers. Then she came further into the room and con- 
 fronted him. 
 
 " Why are you here ? " she demanded. " To gloat 
 over your work? " 
 
 " To undo it, if I can," he replied quickly, " a 
 part of it, at any rate. I fell into a trap Seling- 
 man and I. I've a way out, if there's time. I want 
 your uncle." 
 
 " You mean it ? " she begged feverishly, her face 
 lightening. " Oh, don't raise our hopes again just 
 to disappoint us ! " 
 
 " I mean it," he reiterated. " I want your uncle. 
 With his help, if he has the courage, if he dare face 
 the inevitable, I'll break the railway strike to-night 
 and the coal strike to-morrow." 
 
 She sat down suddenly. She, too, had changed 
 during the last few months. Her face was thinner; 
 there were lines under her eyes. She had lost some-
 
 350 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 thing of the fresh, delicate splendour of youth which 
 had made her seem so dazzling. 
 
 " I can't believe that you are in earnest,' 5 she fal- 
 tered. 
 
 " There isn't any doubt about it," he assured her. 
 " Send round and hurry your uncle." 
 
 She moved to the writing-table and wrote a few- 
 lines hastily. Then she rang the bell and gave them 
 to a servant. She was still without a vestige of colour. 
 
 " I can't dare to feel hopeful," she observed 
 gloomily, when the door had been closed and they 
 were once more alone. " We trusted you before, 
 we believed that everything would be well. You 
 were brutal to us both to me as well as to my 
 uncle." 
 
 " I made no promises," he reminded her. " I 
 broke no ties. I was a people's man; I still am. 
 I took the course I thought best. I thought I saw 
 a way to real freedom." 
 
 " It was Maxendorf ! " she exclaimed, under her 
 breath. 
 
 He nodded. 
 
 " Maxendorf was too clever for me," he confessed. 
 " Perhaps, just at this moment, he is a little sorry 
 for it." 
 
 "What do you mean?" she asked hastily. 
 
 Maraton shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " Oh, he's alive only just, though ! I shook the 
 life nearly out of him. He knows that if we fail 
 within these next twenty-four hours, your uncle and 
 I, I am going to take what's left. I promised him 
 that."
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 351 
 
 Her eyes glowed. 
 
 " You are a strange person," she declared. " How 
 did you come to see the truth to know that you 
 had been misled by Maxendorf ? " 
 
 " It was Selingman who told me," he explained. 
 " Selingman, too, was deceived, but Selingman was 
 nearer to him. He discovered the truth and he came 
 to me. It was a matter of two hours ago. I made 
 my way first to Maxendorf. I remembered my 
 promise. I waited about in the corridors outside his 
 room until I saw an opportunity. Then I slipped 
 in and took him by the throat. Oh, he's alive, but 
 not very much alive to-night ! " 
 
 " Tell me about your wonderful journey north? " 
 she begged. 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 " Just at present it is like a nightmare," he re- 
 plied. " We went from place to place and I preached 
 the new salvation. I told them to trust in me and 
 I would lead them to the light. I believed it. 
 Though the way I knew must be strewn with diffi- 
 culties, though there were great risks and much 
 suffering, I believed it. I saw the dawn of the 
 millennium. I made them believe that I saw it. 
 They placed their trust in me. I have led them to 
 the brink of God knows what!" 
 
 " You have led them to the brink of war," she 
 said gravely. " We wait for its declaration every 
 hour, my uncle and I. They know our plight. They 
 are waiting for the exactly correct minute." 
 
 " They may wait a day too long," Maraton mut- 
 tered. " For myself, I believe that they have
 
 352 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 already waited a day too long. Maxendorf was too 
 certain. He never dreamed that I might learn the 
 truth. Listen!" 
 
 A car stopped outside. They heard the sound 
 of footsteps in the hall, the door was quickly opened. 
 Mr. Foley stood there. He was looking very grave 
 and white, but his eyes flashed at the sight of Mara- 
 ton. 
 
 " You ! " he exclaimed. 
 
 He gave his coat and hat to the servant; then he 
 closed the door behind him. He remained standing 
 
 he offered no form of greeting to his unexpected 
 visitor. 
 
 " What do you want ? " he demanded. " Why 
 have you come to me ? " 
 
 " To give you your chance," Maraton replied, with 
 swift emphasis. " You are the only statesman I 
 know who would have courage to accept it. Dare 
 you? " 
 
 Mr. Foley remained speechless. He stood per- 
 fectly still, with folded arms. 
 
 " This isn't an hour for recriminations," Maraton 
 continued. " I have played into Maxendorf's hands 
 
 I admit it. There's time to checkmate him. I'll 
 free every railroad in the country to-morrow, and 
 the coal-pits next day, with your help." 
 
 " I have forced your delegates to come to me," 
 Mr. Foley answered. " To all my offers they have 
 but one reply: they await your word; they are not 
 seeking for terms." 
 
 " Accept mine," Maraton begged, " and I swear 
 to you that they shall consent. Mind, it isn't a
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 353 
 
 small thing, but it's salvation, and it's the only sal- 
 vation." 
 
 " Go on," Mr. Foley commanded. 
 
 " Pledge your word," Maraton proceeded deliber- 
 ately, " pledge me your word that next Session you 
 will nationalise the railways on the basis of three 
 per cent for capital, a minimum wage of two pounds 
 ten, a maximum salary of eight hundred pounds, con- 
 tracts to be pro rata if profits are not earned. 
 Pledge me that, and the railway strike is over." 
 
 " It's Socialism," Elisabeth gasped. 
 
 " It's common sense," Mr. Foley declared. " I 
 accept. What about the coal ? " 
 
 " You don't need to ask me that," Maraton re- 
 plied swiftly. " Our coalfields are the blood and 
 sinews of the country. They belong to the Govern- 
 ment more naturally even than the labour-made rail- 
 ways. Take them. Pay your fair price and take 
 them. Do away with the horde of money-bloated 
 parvenus, who fatten and decay on the immoral 
 profits they drag from Labour. We are at the 
 parting of the ways. We wait for the strong man. 
 Raise your standard, and the battle is already won." 
 
 " And you? " Mr. Foley muttered. 
 
 " I am your man," Maraton answered. 
 
 Mr. Foley held out his hand. 
 
 " If you mean it," he said gravely, " we'll get 
 through yet. But are you sure about the others 
 Ernshaw and his Union men ? We've tried all human 
 means, and Ernshaw is like a rock. Dale and Gravel- 
 ing and all the rest have done what they could. 
 Ernshaw remains outside. I thought that I had
 
 354 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 won the Labour Party. It seems to me, when the 
 trouble came, that they represented nothing." 
 
 " They don't," Maratoti agreed, " but Ernshaw 
 represents the people, and I represent Ernshaw. 
 He was with me only a little time ago. There won't 
 be a Labour Party any longer. It will be a National 
 Party, and you will make it." 
 
 " I am an old man," Mr. Foley murmured slowly, 
 but his eyes kindled as he spoke. 
 
 They both laughed at him. 
 
 " Young enough to found a new Party," Maraton 
 insisted, " young enough to bring the country into 
 safety once more." 
 
 The atmosphere seemed heavily charged with emo- 
 tion. Elisabeth's eyes were shining. She held out 
 her hands to Maraton, and he kept them reverently 
 in his. 
 
 " To-night," he announced, " with Ernshaw's help 
 I start for the north. In a few hours we shall have 
 freed the railway lines. I leave the Press to you, 
 Mr. Foley. I shall go on to the mines." 
 
 " And I? " Lady Elisabeth asked. " What is my 
 share ? Is there nothing I can do ? " 
 
 Their eyes met for one long moment. 
 
 " When I return," he said quietly, " I will tell 
 you."
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII 
 
 From town to town, travelling for the most part 
 on the platform of an engine, Maraton sped on his 
 splendid mission. It was Ernshaw himself who drove, 
 with the help of an assistant, but as they passed 
 from place to place the veto was lifted. The men 
 in some districts were a little querulous, but at Mara- 
 ton's coming they were subdued. It was peace, a 
 peace how splendid they were soon to know. By 
 mid-day, trains laden with coal were rushing to 
 several of the Channel ports. Maraton found his 
 task with the miners more difficult, and yet in a way 
 his triumph here was still more complete. He 
 travelled down the backbone of England, preaching 
 peace where war had reigned, promising great things 
 in the name of the new Government. Although he 
 had been absent barely forty-eight hours, it was a 
 new London into which he travelled on his return. 
 The streets were crowded once more with taxicabs, 
 the evening papers were being sold, the shops were 
 all open, the policemen were once more in the streets. 
 Selingman, who had scarcely once left Maraton's side, 
 gazed about him with wonder. 
 
 " It is a miracle, this," he declared. " There is 
 no aftermath." 
 
 " The people are waiting," Maraton said. " We
 
 356 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 have given them serious pledges. Their day is to 
 come." 
 
 " You believe that Foley will keep his word ? " 
 Selingman asked. 
 
 " I know that he will," Maraton replied. " As 
 soon as the Bills are drafted, he will go to the coun- 
 try. It will be a new Party the National Party. 
 Stay and see it, Selingman a new era in the poli- 
 tics of the world, a very wonderful era. The country 
 is going to be governed for the people that are worth 
 while." 
 
 " If one could but live long enough ! " Selingman 
 sighed. " All over the universe it comes. Where 
 was it one read of footsteps that sounded amongst 
 the hills like footsteps upon wool? In the night- 
 watches you can hear those footsteps. The world 
 trembles with them." 
 
 " And after all," Maraton continued, " the sun of 
 the world's happiness is made up of the happiness of 
 units. Presently we shall have time to think of those 
 things." 
 
 " It is true," Selingman said disconsolately. " I 
 find myself rejoicing in the good which is coming 
 to humanity and forgetting personal sorrows. There 
 is that wonderful, that adorable secretary of yours 
 Julia. What should you say to me, my friend 
 Maraton, if I were indeed to rob you of her? For 
 once I am in earnest." 
 
 Maraton started for a moment. The idea at first 
 was ludicrous. 
 
 " I suppose," he admitted, " I should reconcile 
 myself to the inevitable. Times are going to be
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 357 
 
 different. I dare say that Aaron will be the only 
 secretary I shall need. But will she go? Remem- 
 ber, she is a woman of the people. I think that she 
 will never settle down, even with your splendid work 
 to control. She is less a poet than a humanitarian." 
 
 " What am I, man," Selingman retorted, striking 
 himself on the chest, " but a humanitarian ? Listen 
 to the wonderful proof it is not a secretary I re- 
 quire ; it is a wife ! " 
 
 Maraton was staggered. 
 
 "Have you told her?" 
 
 " What is the use? " Selingman growled. " She is 
 yours, body and soul. You have but to lift up your 
 finger, and she would follow you to the end of the 
 world. I don't idealise women, you know, Maraton, 
 and virtue isn't a fetish with me. But I know that 
 girl. If you hold out your hands, she is yours, but 
 if you withhold them, she is the most virginal crea- 
 ture that ever breathed." 
 
 " She is a splendid character," Maraton said 
 softly. 
 
 " Why don't you marry her yourself ? " Selingman 
 asked abruptly. " How can you look at her, hear 
 her speak, watch her, without wanting to marry her ? 
 What are you made of? " 
 
 Maraton sighed. 
 
 " I am one of the victims, I suppose, of that curious 
 instinct of selection. I care for some one else; I 
 have cared for some one else ever since the first night 
 I set foot in England." 
 
 "Then I'll get her," Selingman declared. "In 
 time I'll get her."
 
 358 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 They all dined together at the little restaurant 
 on the borders of Soho. Selingman was the giver of 
 the feast and his spirits were both wonderful and 
 infectious. The roar of London was recommencing. 
 Newspapers were being sold on the streets. The 
 strange cruisers seemed mysteriously to have disap- 
 peared from the Atlantic. The fleet, imprisoned no 
 longer, was on its way to the North Sea. There was 
 none of the foolish, over-exuberant rejoicing of 
 bibulous jingoism, but a genuine, deep spirit of 
 thankfulness abroad. Men and women were glad 
 but thoughtful. There were new times to come, great 
 promises had been made. There were rumours every- 
 where of a new political Party. 
 
 " We pause to-night," Selingman declared, " at 
 the end of the first chapter. Almost I am tempted 
 to linger in this wonderful country at any rate 
 untfl the headlines of the next are in type. You 
 go down to the House to-night?" 
 
 " At nine o'clock," Maraton replied, glancing at 
 the clock. 
 
 " Will they remember," Selingman continued 
 thoughtfully, " that you were the Samson who pulled 
 down the pillars, or will they merely hail you as the 
 deliverer? Will they think of that ghostly ride of 
 yours on the locomotive, I wonder, when you tore 
 screaming through the darkness, with the risk of a 
 buffer on the line at every mile; stepped from the 
 engine, grimy, with your breath sucked out of you 
 by the wind, and the roar of the locomotive still 
 throbbing in your ears stepped out to deliver your 
 message to the waiting throngs? Magnificent! A
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 359 
 
 subject worthy of me and my prose! I shall write 
 of it, Maraton. I shall sing the glory of it in verse 
 or script, when your fame as a politician of the mo- 
 ment has passed. You will live because of the gar- 
 land that I shall weave." 
 
 Maraton sipped his wine thoughtfully. 
 
 " But for your overweening humility, Selingman," 
 he began 
 
 Selingman struck the table with his fist. 
 
 " It is a night for rejoicings, this," he thundered. 
 " I will not have my weaknesses exposed. Let us, for 
 to-night, at any rate, see the best in each other. 
 Glance, for instance, at Miss Julia. Admire the ex- 
 quisite pink of my carnations which she has conde- 
 scended to wear; see how well they become her." 
 
 '* I feel like a flower shop," Julia laughed. 
 
 " And you look like the spirit of the flowers her- 
 self," Selingman declared, " the wonderful Power on 
 the other side of the sun, who draws them out of the 
 ground and touches their petals with colour, shakes 
 perfume into their blossoms and makes this England 
 of yours, in springtime, like a beautiful, sweet-smell- 
 ing carpet." 
 
 " Don't listen to him, Julia," Maraton warned her. 
 " It was only a month ago that he told me that no 
 civilised man should live in this country because of 
 the women and the beer." 
 
 " A man changes," Selingman insisted fiercely. 
 " Your beer I will never drink, but Miss Julia knows 
 that she hasn't in the world a slave so abject as I." 
 
 Maraton rose to his feet. 
 
 " I must go," he announced. " I have to talk with
 
 360 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 Mr. Foley for a few minutes. You had better come 
 with me, Aaron. Selingman will see Julia back." 
 
 They watched him depart. Julia sighed as he 
 passed through the door. 
 
 " I can read your thoughts," Selingman said 
 quickly. " You are feeling, are you not, that to- 
 night his leaving us has in it something allegorical. 
 He was made for the storms of life, to fight in them 
 and rejoice in them, and Fate has taken him by the 
 hand and is leading him now towards the quieter 
 places." 
 
 " It is not his choice," Julia murmured. " It is 
 destiny." 
 
 " Can't you look a little way into the future ? " 
 Selingman continued, peering through half-closed 
 eyes into his wine glass. " He represents the only 
 possible link between the only possible political party 
 of this country and the people. He will win for 
 them in twelve months what they might have waited 
 for through many weary years. He will sit in the 
 high places. History will speak well of him. I will 
 wager you half a dozen pairs of gloves that within a 
 week the Daily Oracle will call him the modern Rienzi. 
 And yet, with the end of the struggle, with the end 
 of the fierce fighting, comes something what is it ? 
 disappointment? We have no right to be disap- 
 pointed, and yet, somehow, one feels that it is the 
 cold and the storm and the wind which keep the best 
 in us the fighting best alive." 
 
 Julia's eyes were soft, for a moment, with tears. 
 She, too, was following him a little way into the 
 future.
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 361 
 
 " They will make a politician of him," she sighed. 
 " So much the better for politics. But there is one 
 thing which I do not think that he will ever forget. 
 So long as he lives he will be a people's man." 
 
 Selingman became curiously silent. Soon he paid 
 the bill. 
 
 " Will you put me in a cab ? " she asked him outside. 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 " I shall ride home with you." 
 
 " It is rather a long way," she reminded him. " I 
 am down at my old rooms again. The house in Rus- 
 sell Square is full of workmen, after the fire." 
 
 " It does not matter how far," he said simply. 
 
 His fit of silence continued. When at last they 
 arrived at their destination, she held out her hand. 
 Again he shook his head. 
 
 " I am coming in," he announced. 
 
 She hesitated. 
 
 " My rooms are very tiny." 
 
 " I am coming in," he repeated. 
 
 He followed her up the stairs. Her little sitting- 
 room was in darkness. She struck a match and lit 
 the lamp. She would have pulled down the blind, but 
 he checked her. 
 
 " No," he objected, " let us stand and look down 
 together upon this wilderness. So ! " 
 
 They were high up and they looked upon a treeless 
 waste rows of houses, tall factories, the line of the 
 river beyond, the murky glow westwards. 
 
 " Here I can talk to you," he said. " Here it is 
 silent. Soon I go back to my life and my life's work. 
 You, Julia, must go with me."
 
 362 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 She drew a little away from him, speechless with 
 a queer sort of surprise, and a little indignant. He 
 held her wrist firmly. 
 
 " I am a man who has written much of love," he 
 continued, " of love and life and all the tangled skein 
 of emotions which make of it a complex thing. And 
 yet so few of us know what love is, so few of us know 
 what companionship is, so few of us know the world 
 in which those others dwell. You have looked at me 
 with your great eyes, Julia, and at first you saw 
 nothing but a fat, plain old man, with plenty of 
 conceit and a humour for idle speeches. And to-day 
 you think a little differently, and as the days go on 
 you will think more differently still, for I am going 
 to take you with me, Julia, and I am going to keep you 
 with me, and I am going to keep the light in your 
 eyes and the laughter at your lips, in the only way 
 that counts. You will sit with me in my study, you 
 shall see my work come and hear it grow. I shall 
 take you into the world where the music is born, and 
 your eyes will be closed there, and you will only know 
 that there is another soul there who is your guide, 
 and in whom you trust, and for whom you have a 
 strange feeling. That is how love comes, Julia 
 the only sort of love which lasts. It isn't born in 
 this land, it doesn't even flourish in this universe. If 
 you don't come up in the clouds to find it, it isn't the 
 sort that lasts. You are going to find it with me, 
 dear." 
 
 She had begun to tremble a little, the tears were 
 in her eyes. 
 
 " Oh, I know ! " he faltered, with a break in his
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 363 
 
 own voice. " But you'll leave your sorrows behind 
 in my world." 
 
 It was midnight when Maraton left the House. 
 He came out with Mr. Foley, and they stood for a 
 moment at the entrance. An electric coupe" rolled 
 swiftly up. 
 
 " You must come home with me for a minute or 
 two, Maraton," Mr. Foley urged. " It is on your 
 way." 
 
 The coupe, however, was already occupied. Elisa- 
 beth leaned out of the window. She held the door 
 open. 
 
 " I am going to take Mr. Maraton back with me," 
 she insisted. " The car is there for you, uncle." 
 
 Mr. Foley smiled. 
 
 " Quite right," he assented. " Get in, Maraton. 
 I shall be home before you." 
 
 Maraton obeyed, and they glided out of the Palace 
 yard. 
 
 " I was there all the time," Elisabeth told him 
 quietly. " I heard everything. I was so glad, so 
 proud. Even your Labour Members had to come 
 and shake hands with you." 
 
 " I don't think Mr. Dale liked it," he remarked, 
 smiling. " They are not bad fellows at heart, but 
 they've got the poison in their systems which seems, 
 somehow or other, to become part of the equipment 
 of the politician self-interest, over-egotism, con- 
 traction of interest. It makes one almost afraid." 
 
 She leaned a little towards him. 
 
 " You will not fear anything," she whispered confi-
 
 364 A PEOPLE'S MAN 
 
 dently. " To-night, as I looked down, it seemed to 
 me that as a looker-on I saw more, perhaps, of the 
 real significance if it all than you who were there. 
 It is a new force, you know, which has come into 
 politics, a new Party. I suppose historians will call 
 to-night, the fusion of Parties which is going to hap- 
 pen, an extraordinary triumph for Mr. Foley. Per- 
 haps he deserves it in my heart I believe that he 
 does but not in the way they would try to make 
 out." 
 
 " His heart is right," Maraton declared. " He has 
 wide sympathies and splendid understanding." 
 
 " It is a new chapter which begins to-night," she 
 repeated. " You will have many disappointments to 
 face, both of you." 
 
 " But isn't it a glorious fight ! " he exclaimed en- 
 thusiastically. " A great cause at one's back, a 
 future filled with magnificent possibilities! Lady 
 Elisabeth," he went on, " you can't imagine what this 
 hour means. Sometimes I have had moments of hor- 
 rible depression. It is so easy to feel the sorrows of 
 the people in one's heart, so easy to stir them into a 
 passionate apprehension of their position. And then 
 comes the dull, sickening doubt whether, after all, it 
 had not been better to leave them as they were. Of 
 > what use are words that is what I have felt so 
 often. And now there has come the power to do 
 great things for them. Life couldn't hold anything 
 more splendid." 
 
 Her hand touched his. She had withdrawn her 
 glove. 
 
 " You will let me help ? " she begged.
 
 A PEOPLE'S MAN 365 
 
 He turned towards her then, and she saw the light 
 in his face for which she had longed. With a little 
 cry her head sank upon his shoulder, and his arms 
 closed around her. 
 
 "I am almost jealous of the people," she mur- 
 mured. " Only I want you to teach me to love them 
 and feel for them as you do. I want to feel that 
 the same thing in our lives is bringing us always 
 closer together." 
 
 THE END
 
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