“I don’t see why I should,” said Godfrey. “I don’t think it’s at all nice of you, Excellency, to—”
“And while we’re at it,” I said, “we may as well ship off Clithering. Godfrey let me introduce you to—”
I looked round and discovered that Clithering was not in the room.
“I hope to goodness,” I said, “that he’s not gone out to get himself hanged. He rather wanted to a few minutes ago.”
“It’s all right,” said Bland. “I saw him going upstairs. I expect he’s looking for his clothes.”
“Godfrey,” I said. “I’m going to offer you a great chance. Sir Samuel Clithering is in every way a very big man. In the first place he’s very rich. In the next place he’s on intimate terms with the Prime Minister. In fact he’s been sending him telegrams every hour or so for the last two days. You go upstairs and help him to find his clothes. Then take him over to London. The Fleetwood steamer is still running. If you can get him out of Belfast and lay him down safe and sound on his own doorstep the Government will be so grateful that they’ll very likely make you a stipendiary magistrate.”
“But supposing he doesn’t want to go?”
“You’ll have to make him,” I said.
“How?” said Godfrey. “How can I?”