“He would have sent these men to the right-abouts;” said Egremont, a young politician, proud of his secret intelligence.
“Ah! the poor king!” said Sir Vavasour, shaking his head.
“He was entirely with us,” said Egremont.
“Poor man” said Sir Vavasour.
“You think it was too late, then?” said his companion.
“You are a young man entering political life,” said the baronet, taking Egremont kindly by the arm, and leading him to a sofa; “everything depends on the first step. You have a great opportunity. Nothing can be done by a mere individual. The most powerful body in this country wants a champion.”
“But you can depend on Peel?” said Egremont.
“He is one of us: we ought to be able to depend on him. But I have spoken to him for an hour, and could get nothing out of him.”
“He is cautious; but depend upon it, he will stand or fall by the land.”
“I am not thinking of the land,” said Sir Vavasour; “of something much more important; with all the influence of the land, and a great deal more besides; of an order of men who are ready to rally round the throne, and are, indeed, if justice were done to them, its natural and hereditary champions (Egremont looked perplexity); I am speaking,” added Sir Vavasour, in a solemn voice, “I am speaking of the baronets.”