“Well, you 'll present yourself at Burlington House. Mr. Blount will make out the order for you; you can go up the latter end of this week, and we shall want you immediately.”
“But I am not ready. I was reading for this examination when your telegram came, and I set off at the instant.”
“Blount, Mr. Blount!” screamed out the other, angrily; and as the affrighted youth presented himself, all pale and trembling, he went on: “What's the meaning of this, sir? You first attempt to pass this person off for Poynder: and when that scheme fails, you endeavor to slip him into the service without warrant or qualification. He tells me himself he knows nothing.”
“Very little, certainly, but I don't remember telling you so,” said Tony.
“And do you imagine, sir, that a bravado about your ignorance is the sure road to advancement? I can tell you, young gentleman, that the days of mighty patronage are gone by; the public require to be served with competent officials. We are not in the era of Castlereaghs and Vansittarts. If you can satisfy the Commissioners, you may come back here; if you cannot, you may go back to—to whatever life you were leading before, and were probably most fit for. As for you, Mr. Blount, I told you before that on the first occasion of your attempting to exercise here that talent for intrigue on which you pride yourself, and of which Mr. Vance told me you were a proficient, I should report you. I now say, sir,—and bear in mind I say so openly, and to yourself, and in presence of your friend here,—I shall do so this day.”
“May I explain, sir?”
“You may not, sir,—withdraw!” The wave of the hand that accompanied this order evidently included Tony; but he held his ground undismayed, while the other fell back, overwhelmed with shame and confusion.
Not deigning to be aware of Tony's continued presence in the room, Mr. Brand again addressed himself to his writing materials, when a green-cloth door at the back of the room opened, and Mr. Vance entered, and, advancing to where the other sat, leaned over his chair and whispered some words in his ear. “You 'll find I 'm right,” muttered he, as he finished.
“And where's the Office to go to?” burst out the other, in a tone of ill-repressed passion; “will you just tell me that? Where's the Office to go—if this continues?”
“That's neither your affair nor mine,” whispered Vance. “These sort of things were done before we were born, and they will be done after we 're in our graves!”