'Ah, Mr. Wentworth,' said the new visitor, 'I thought I would just run in and see you.'

'Happy to see you-take a seat.'

'I have read your programme, and am delighted with it.'

'Sir, you flatter me.'

'Not a bit of it. It is just what I like. I don't think I could have done it better myself. You're the coming man-all Sloville will rally round you.'

'It does not seem like it at present,' said Wentworth gloomily.

'My dear sir, you astonish me; I should have thought a man of your talent would have carried everything before him. But I see I am come in the nick of time-quite providential, as it were. I can promise you entire success.'

'Upon what terms?'

'Well, if you put it in that light, I, of course, expect to be paid. As a fellow literary man, I would, of course, prefer to work for you for nothing; but you see, sir, one must live, and the fact is, I have a duty to discharge to my wife and family. A man who neglects them, you know, is worse than an infidel. I believe I have Scriptural authority for that statement?'

'I believe you have, sir.'

'Ah, yes, my dear sir, I thought a man of your knowledge and good sense would admit as much. You know me-my name is Roberts.'

'I can't say that I do.'

'Well, that is a good one! Did you never read my poem on the death of Prince Albert?'

'I can't say that I have.'

'Don't you remember my celebrated speech at Little Pedlington in favour of the Society for the Equal Diffusion of Capital?'

'I can't say that I ever heard of it.'

'Well, you do surprise me! How true it is that the world knows nothing of its greatest men! Surely you must have heard of my celebrated discussion with the great O'Toole in the Town Hall of Mudford on the rights of man, of which the _Mudford __Observer_ remarked that I demolished my unfortunate antagonist with the brilliancy of Macaulay, with the philosophy of a Burke, with the wit of a Sheridan, and with a native originality indicative of the rarest genius. Why, it was the talk of the whole town for weeks. Do you really mean to tell me, Mr.

Wentworth, that you never heard of that?'

'Never,' said Wentworth dryly.

'Well, that's a good one! I thought you gentlemen of London kept your eye on everybody and everything. But you know the Temple Forum?'

'Oh, certainly I do.'

'Ah! I am glad to hear that, because I am one of the leading lights of that select a.s.sembly.'

'Well, I am very unfortunate. I cannot remember to have heard you even there; but I must own I seldom went near the place.'

'Ah, if you had you would have known me well. Many is the speech I have made there. But perhaps you will kindly glance at this?' taking out of his hat a dilapidated and somewhat greasy paper.

Reluctantly Mr. Wentworth took it.

'It is an account of one of my lectures before the Minerva Inst.i.tute at Bullock Smithy.'

'Bullock Smithy-never heard of that.'

'Come, Mr. Wentworth, you are a bit of a wag, I see.'

'Not a bit of it. Never heard of Bullock Smithy in my life.'

'Why, it is a rising watering-place in Blankshire, and I had the public hall to lecture in, with the head notable in the chair, and all the _elite_ of the place present; and I a.s.sure you, as the _Bullock Smithy Observer_ remarks, it was quite a treat I gave 'em. "Feast of reason, flow of soul," they call it. I am to give 'em another lecture next summer.'

'I am delighted to hear it.'

'Yes, I knew you would be. We men of genius always recognise each other.

And now I'll tell you why I am here. I've come to offer you my services as a public speaker. I was at your meeting the other night, and I saw what was wanted immediately. "Clever fellow," said I to myself; "but too modest and retiring-not enough bounce and brag to fetch the general public." Says I to myself: "I will do it for him; I am the boy for that kind of work; I am used to it." Many a man has got into Parliament through me. Indeed, I have never known anyone fail who has secured my services, and you shall have 'em cheap. Five pounds for the week and board and lodging, and I make a speech for you every night. That's what I call a fair offer. You hesitate. Well, suppose we say two pounds ten.

I never made so low an offer before, but you are a man and a brother, and I would do for you what I would not do for anyone else.'

'I am afraid, Mr. Roberts,' said Wentworth-'I fear I must dispense with your services.'

'No, don't say that; don't stand in your own light, man. You don't know what you're refusing. I can almost guarantee your election. Let me begin to-night. Send the crier round to say that Mr. Roberts, the celebrated orator of the Temple Forum, will speak at your meeting. If I don't astonish 'em I'll eat my hat.' A very battered one, by-the-bye, which it would have required rather a strong stomach to digest.

'The fact is, Mr. Roberts,' continued Wentworth, 'I consider an election is purely a matter between a candidate and his const.i.tuents, and no one else has a right to interfere. I should be glad of all the local strength I could get. That would show the electors we're in earnest in the matter; but as to getting strangers down from town to dazzle the people with rhetorical fireworks, I really don't care about it. I really should not care to gain my election by such means. I think it great presumption even for a London committee, whether sitting at the Carlton or the Liberal Club, to seek to control the electors. It is something very serious to me, the freedom of election and the independence of the voters.'

'Sir, you take matters too seriously. We all know electioneering is humbug, and the biggest humbug wins.'

'I fear you and I could not agree, Mr. Roberts, and perhaps you had better take your talents to another quarter.'

'And you mean to say, then, that you have no occasion for my services?'

said the collapsing Roberts, who seemed to become smaller every minute.

'I do, indeed.'

'Then, sir, I am sorry for you,' said the indignant orator. 'I came out of friendship; but I am a professional man, and I shall be under the unpleasant necessity of going to some other party. I believe Sir Watkin Strahan will be only too glad of my a.s.sistance.'

'By all means try him,' said Wentworth.

And the itinerant orator retreated, having first secured a trilling loan on the plea that his journey down to Sloville had quite cleaned him out, and that he had been disappointed of a remittance.

No sooner had the orator departed than another arrival was announced.

'A gentleman from London.'

The Hon. Algernon Smithson, a fellow-member with Wentworth of the Mausoleum Club, was his name. In he rushed, protesting that he had called at the club, that he had gone to Clifford's Inn, that he had come on to Sloville, just to see how his friend was getting on.

'And is that all?' asked Wentworth.

'Well, now you mention it, I don't mind telling you,' was the reply, 'that our party are rather uncomfortable about the state of things here, and Twiss, of the Treasury, asked me if I could not have five minutes'

chat with you, and so, you see,' said the Honourable, with a jolly laugh, or, rather, an attempt at it, 'like the good-natured donkey that I am, I've let the cat out of the bag. Perhaps that is bad policy; but, then, you and I, Wentworth, are men of the world, and I like to be straightforward.'

In most quarters it was considered that the Hon. Smithson was rather a cunning old fox.