The form was addressed to Miss Avon, in care of Lord Innisfail, Netherford Hall, Netherford, Nethershire, and it contained the following words, “I will do it. Edmund.”
He did it.
He made a brief speech amid the cheers of the Opposition and the howls of the Government party, acknowledging his deep sympathy with the unhappy wretches who were undergoing the unspeakable horrors of a Siberian exile, and thus, he said he felt compelled, on conscientious grounds (ironical cheers from the Government) to vote for the Amendment.
He went into the lobby with the Opposition.
It was an Irish member who yelled out “Judas!”
The Government was defeated by a majority of one vote, and there was a “scene” in the House.
Some time ago an enterprising person took up his abode in the midst of an African jungle, in order to study the methods by which baboons express themselves. He might have spared himself that trouble, if he had been present upon the occasion of a “scene” in the House of Commons. He would, from a commanding position in the Strangers’ Gallery, have learned all that he had set his heart upon acquiring—and more.
It was while the “scene” was being enacted that Edmund Airey had put into his hand the telegraph form written out by himself in his club.
“Telegraph Office at Netherford closes at 6 p.m.,” were the words that the hall-porter had written on the back of the form.
The next day he drove to the historian’s, and inquired if Miss Avon had returned.