“Did you make a speech?”
“Yes....” John Hubert’s voice was soft and hesitating. He always spoke his words in such a way as to make it easy to withdraw them. “I said what you told me to, but I fear it did little good....”
“You think so?” For a moment a cunning light flashed up in Christopher Ulwing’s eye, then he smiled contemptuously. “True. Such as we must act. We may think too, but only if we get a great gentleman to tell our thoughts. Nevertheless, I want you to speak. I shall make of you a gentleman great enough to get a hearing.”
Füger bowed. John Hubert began to complain. “When I proposed to plant trees along the streets of the town, a citizen asked me if I had become a gardener. As to the lighting of the streets they said that drunkards can cling to the walls of the houses. A lamp-post would serve no other purpose.”
“That will change!” The builder’s voice warmed with great strong confidence.
Young Ulwing continued without warmth.
“I told them of our new brickfields and informed them that henceforth we shall sell bricks by retail to the suburban people. This did not please them. The councillors whispered together.”
“What did they say?” asked Christopher Ulwing coldly.
John Hubert cast his eyes down.
“Well, they said that the great carpenter had always made gold out of other people’s misery. The great carpenter! That is what they call you, sir, among themselves, though they presented you last year with the freedom of the city....”