HORSHAM. Edmunds. Everybody's down at Lympne ... I've been left with a new man here and I don't know his name. [_He is very pathetic._] I told him to put O'Connell in the library there. I thought that either Farrant or I might perhaps see him first and--

_At this moment_ EDMUNDS _comes in, and, with that air of discreet tact which he considers befits the establishment of a Prime Minister, announces_, "Mr. O'Connell, my lord." _As_ O'CONNELL _follows him_, HORSHAM _can only try not to look too disconcerted._ O'CONNELL, _in his tightly b.u.t.toned frock coat, with his shaven face and close-cropped iron grey hair, might be mistaken for a Catholic priest; except that he has not also acquired the easy cheerfulness which professional familiarity with the mysteries of that religion seems to give. For the moment, at least, his features are so impa.s.sive that they may tell either of the deepest grief or the purest indifference; or it may be, merely of reticence on entering a stranger's room. He only bows towards_ HORSHAM'S _half-proffered hand. With instinctive respect for the situation of this tragically made widower the men have risen and stand in various uneasy att.i.tudes._

HORSHAM. Oh ... how do you do? Let me see ... do you know my cousin Charles Cantelupe? Yes ... we were expecting Russell Blackborough. Sir Henry Percival is ill. Do sit down.

O'CONNELL _takes the nearest chair and gradually the others settle themselves_; FARRANT _seeking an obscure corner. But there follows an uncomfortable silence, which_ O'CONNELL _at last breaks._

O'CONNELL. You have sent for me, Lord Horsham?

HORSHAM. I hope that by my message I conveyed no impression of sending for you.

O'CONNELL. I am always in some doubt as to by what person or persons in or out of power this country is governed. But from all I hear you are at the present moment approximately ent.i.tled to send for me.

_The level music of his Irish tongue seems to give finer edge to his sarcasm._

HORSHAM. Well, Mr. O'Connell ... you know our request before we make it.

O'CONNELL. Yes, I understand that if the fact of Mr. Trebell's adultery with my wife were made as public as its consequences to her must be to-morrow, public opinion would make it difficult for you to include him in your cabinet.

HORSHAM. Therefore we ask you ... though we have no right to ask you ... to consider the particular circ.u.mstances and forget the man in the statesman, Mr. O'Connell.

O'CONNELL. My wife is dead. What have I to do at all with Mr. Trebell as a man? As a statesman I am in any case uninterested in him.

_Upon this throwing of cold water_, EDMUNDS _returns to mention even more discreetly...._

EDMUNDS. Mr. Blackborough is in the library, my lord.

HORSHAM. [_Patiently impatient._] No, no ... here.

WEDGECROFT. Let me go.

HORSHAM. [_To the injured_ EDMUNDS.] Wait ... wait.

WEDGECROFT. I'll put him _au fait._ I shan't come back.

HORSHAM. [_Gratefully._] Yes, yes. [_Then to_ EDMUNDS _who is waiting with perfect dignity._] Yes ... yes ... yes.

EDMUNDS _departs and_ WEDGECROFT _makes for the library door, glad to escape._

O'CONNELL. If you are not busy at this hour, Wedgecroft, I should be grateful if you'd wait for me. I shall keep you, I think, but a very few minutes.

WEDGECROFT. [_In his most matter-of-fact tone._] All right, O'Connell.

_He goes into the library._

CANTELUPE. Don't you think, Cyril, it would be wiser to prevent your man coming into the room at all while we're discussing this?

HORSHAM. [_Collecting his scattered tact._] Yes, I thought I had arranged that he shouldn't. I'm very sorry. He's a fool. However, there's no one else to come. Once more, Mr. O'Connell.... [_He frames no sentence._]

O'CONNELL. I am all attention, Lord Horsham.

CANTELUPE _with a self-denying effort has risen to his feet._

CANTELUPE. Mr. O'Connell I remain here almost against my will. I cannot think quite calmly about this double and doubly heinous sin. Don't listen to us while we make light of it. If we think of it as a political bother and ask you to smooth it away ... I am ashamed. But I believe I may not be wrong if I put it to you that, looking to the future and for the sake of your own Christian dignity, it may become you to be merciful. And I pray too ... I think we may believe ... that Mr. Trebell is feeling need of your forgiveness. I have no more to say. [_He sits down again._]

O'CONNELL. It may be. I have never met Mr. Trebell.

HORSHAM. I tell you, Mr. O'Connell, putting aside Party, that your country has need of this man just at this time.

_They hang upon_ O'CONNELL'S _reply. It comes with deliberation._

O'CONNELL. I suppose my point of view must be an unusual one. I notice, at least, that twenty four hours and more has not enabled Farrant to grasp it.

FARRANT. For G.o.d's sake, O'Connell, don't be so cold-blooded. You have the life or death of a man's reputation to decide on.

O'CONNELL. [_With a cold flash of contempt._] That's a petty enough thing now-a-days it seems to me. There are so many clever men ... and they are all so alike ... surely one will not be missed.

CANTELUPE. Don't you think that is only sarcasm, Mr. O'Connell?

_The voice is so gently reproving that_ O'CONNELL _must turn to him._

O'CONNELL. Will you please to make allowance, Lord Charles, for a mediaeval scholar's contempt of modern government? You at least will partly understand his horror as a Catholic at the modern superst.i.tions in favour of popular opinion and control which it encourages. You see, Lord Horsham, I am not a party man, only a little less enthusiastic for the opposite cries than for his own. You appealed very strangely to my feelings of patriotism for this country; but you see even my own is--in the twentieth century--foreign to me. From my point of view neither Mr. Trebell, nor you, nor the men you have just defeated, nor any discoverable man or body of men will make laws which matter ... or differ in the slightest. You are all part of your age and you all voice--though in separate keys, or even tunes they may be--only the greed and follies of your age. That you should do this and nothing more is, of course, the democratic ideal. You will forgive my thinking tenderly of the statesmanship of the first Edward.

_The library door opens and_ RUSSELL BLACKBOROUGH _comes in. He has on evening clothes, complicated by a long silk comforter and the motoring cap which he carries._

HORSHAM. You know Russell Blackborough.

O'CONNELL. I think not.

BLACKBOROUGH. How d'you do?

O'CONNELL _having bowed_, BLACKBOROUGH _having nodded, the two men sit down_, BLACKBOROUGH _with an air of great attention_, O'CONNELL _to continue his interrupted speech._

O'CONNELL. And you are as far from me in your code of personal morals as in your politics. In neither do you seem to realise that such a thing as pa.s.sion can exist. No doubt you use the words Love and Hatred; but do you know that love and hatred for principles or persons should come from beyond a man? I notice you speak of forgiveness as if it were a penny in my pocket.

You have been endeavouring for these two days to rouse me from my indifference towards Mr. Trebell. Perhaps you are on the point of succeeding ... but I do not know what you may rouse.

HORSHAM. I understand. We are much in agreement, Mr. O'Connell. What can a man be--who has any pretensions to philosophy--but helplessly indifferent to the thousands of his fellow creatures whose fates are intertwined with his?

O'CONNELL. I am glad that you understand. But, again ... have I been wrong to shrink from personal relations with Mr. Trebell? Hatred is as sacred a responsibility as love. And you will not agree with me when I say that punishment can be the salvation of a man's soul.

FARRANT. [_With aggressive common sense._] Look here. O'Connell, if you're indifferent it doesn't hurt you to let him off. And if you hate him...!

Well, one shouldn't hate people ... there's no room for it in this world.

CANTELUPE. [_Quietly as ever._] We have some authority for thinking that the punishment of a secret sin is awarded by G.o.d secretly.

O'CONNELL. We have very poor authority, sir, for using G.o.d's name merely to fill up the gaps in an argument, though we may thus have our way easily with men who fear G.o.d more than they know him. I am not one of those. Yes, Farrant, you and your like have left little room in this world except for the dusty roads on which I notice you beginning once more to travel. The rule of them is the same for all, is it not ... from the tramp and the labourer to the plutocrat in his car? This is the age of equality; and it's a fine practical equality ... the equality of the road. But you've fenced the fields of human joy and turned the very hillsides into h.o.a.rdings, Commercial opportunity is painted on them, I think.