“Since we have been talking here,” he replied, “it has occurred to me that if you could be nominated and elected again, the party might do worse than to consider you for the presidential nomination the year following.
“No, my dear fellow, don’t interrupt me,” continued Selwyn mellifluously.
“It is strange how fate or chance enters into the life of man and even of nations. A business matter calls me here, I pass your office and think to pay my respects to the Governor of the State. Some political questions are perplexing you, and my presence suggests that I may aid in their solution. This dinner follows, your personality appeals to me, and the thought flits through my mind, why should not Rockland, rather than some other man, lead the party two years from now?
“And the result, my dear Rockland, may be, probably will be, your becoming chief magistrate of the greatest republic the sun has ever shone on.”
Rockland by this time was fairly hypnotized by Selwyn’s words, and by their tremendous import. For a moment he dared not trust himself to speak.
“Senator Selwyn,” he said at last, “it would be idle for me to deny that you have excited within me an ambition that a moment ago would have seemed worse than folly. Your influence within the party and your ability to conduct a campaign, gives to your suggestion almost the tender of the presidency. To tell you that I am deeply moved does scant justice to my feelings. If, after further consideration, you think me worthy of the honor, I shall feel under lasting obligations to you which I shall endeavor to repay in every way consistent with honor and with a sacred regard for my oath of office.”
“I want to tell you frankly, Rockland,” answered Selwyn, “that up to now I have had someone else in mind, but I am in no sense committed, and we might as well discuss the matter to as near a conclusion as is possible at this time.”
Selwyn’s voice hardened a little as he went on. “You would not want a nomination that could not carry with a reasonable certainty of election, therefore I would like to go over with you your record, both public and private, in the most open yet confidential way. It is better that you and I, in the privacy of these rooms, should lay bare your past than that it should be done in a bitter campaign and by your enemies. What we say to one another here is to be as if never spoken, and the grave itself must not be more silent. Your private life not only needs to be clean, but there must be no public act at which any one can point an accusing finger.”
“Of course, of course,” said Rockland, with a gesture meant to convey the complete openness of his record.
“Then comes the question of party regularity,” continued Selwyn, without noticing. “Be candid with me, for, if you are not, the recoil will be upon your own head.”