“And who is the right man?”
“James Therne, Esq., M.D.,” he answered quietly.
“What on earth do you mean?” I asked. “How can I afford to spend from 1000 to 2000 pounds upon a contested election, and as much more a year in subscriptions and keeping up the position if I should chance to be returned? And how, in the name of fortune, can I be both a practising physician and a member of Parliament?”
“I’ll tell you, doctor, for, ever since your name was put forward by the Liberal Council yesterday, I have seen these difficulties and been thinking them out. Look here, you are still young, handsome, clever, and a capital speaker with a popular audience. Also you are very hard-working and would rise. But you’ve no money, and only what you earn at your profession to live on, which, if you were a member of Parliament, you couldn’t continue to earn. Well, such a man as you are is wanted and so he must be paid for.”
“No, no,” I said, “I am not going to be the slave of a Radical Five Hundred, bound to do what they tell me and vote as they like; I’d rather stick to my own trade, thank you.”
“Don’t you be in a hurry, young man; who asked you to be any one’s slave? Now, look here—if somebody guarantees every farthing of expense to fight the seat, and 1200 pounds a year and outgoings if you should be successful, and a bonus of 5000 pounds in the event of your being subsequently defeated or electing to give up parliamentary life, will you take on the job?”
“On those terms, yes, I think so, provided I was sure of the guarantor, and that he was a man from whom I could take the money.”
“Well, you can soon judge of that, doctor, for it is I, Samuel Strong, and I’ll deposit 10,000 pounds in the hands of a trustee before you write your letter of acceptance. No, don’t thank me. I do it for two reasons—first, because, having no chick or kin of my own, I happen to have taken a fancy to you and wish to push you on. The world has treated you badly, and I want to see you one of its masters, with all these smart people who look down on you licking your boots, as they will sure enough if you grow rich and powerful. That’s my private reason. My public one is that you are the only man in Dunchester who can win us the seat, and I’d think 10,000 pounds well spent if it put those Tories at the bottom of the poll. I want to show them who is “boss,” and that we won’t be lorded over by bankers and brewers just because they are rich men who have bought themselves titles.”
“But you are a rich man yourself,” I interrupted.
“Yes, doctor, and I spend my money in helping those who will help the people. Now, before you give me any answer, I’ve got to ask you a thing or two,” and he drew a paper from his pocket. “Are you prepared to support the abolition of ‘tied’ houses?”