The way of the spirit

by H. Rider Haggard

Then in the amusement that was caused by Lady Devene’s mixed metaphors and quaint suggestion that with her ample form she should shelter the confidences of Rupert and Edith from prying eyes, the joke was turned from them to her, as she meant that it should be, and finally forgotten. But neither Rupert nor Edith forgot it. Never again did they sit close together in that Grosvenor Square drawing-room, even in the fancied absence of Lord Devene, a result for which Edith, who hated such public demonstrations, was truly grateful.

For a while after the announcement of the engagement Rupert and Dick had seen as little of each other as was possible, the former, because he had not forgiven Dick’s conduct at the shooting party, which impressed his mind far more than the vague talk about him and Edith in the past. In this, indeed, he had never believed, and his nature being utterly unsuspicious, it was now totally forgotten. As for Dick, he had his own reasons for the avoidance of his successful rival, whom all men and women united to honour. By degrees, however, Edith, who lived in perpetual fear of some passionate outburst from Dick, managed to patch up their differences, at least to the outward eye, for the abyss between them was too wide to be ever really bridged. Indeed, her efforts in this direction nearly resulted in what she most wanted to avoid, an open quarrel.

It came about in this fashion. The opportunity which had been foreseen arose; the sitting member for that county division in which Lord Devene lived had retired, and Dick was put up to contest the seat in the Radical interest against a strong and popular Conservative candidate. His chances of success were fair, as the constituency was notoriously fickle, and public feeling just then was running against the Tories. Also Lord Devene, although as a peer he could take no active part in the election, was using his great wealth and interest in every legitimate way to secure his nominee’s return.

When the contest, with the details of which we need not concern ourselves, drew near its close, Dick himself suggested that it might help him, and give variety to one of his larger meetings, if Rupert would come and talk a little about Egypt and the Arabs with whom he had fought so often. He knew well that although country people will attend political gatherings and shout on this side or on that according as they think that their personal advantage lies, all the best of them are in reality far more interested in exciting stories of fact from someone whom they respect, than in the polemics of party politicians.

When the suggestion was made to him, needless to say, Rupert declined it at once. Theoretically, he was a Liberal; that is to say, like most good and earnest men he desired the welfare of the people and the promotion of all measures by which it might be furthered. But on the other hand, he was no bitter Radical of the stamp of Lord Devene, who wished to pull down and burn for the sake of the crash and the flare; and he was, on the other hand, what nowadays is called an Imperialist, believing in the mission of Britain among the peoples of the earth, and desiring the consolidation of her empire’s might because it meant justice, peace, and individual security; because it freed the slave, paralysed the hands of rapine, and caused the corn to grow and the child to laugh.

Now Rupert did not consider that these causes would be promoted by the return of Dick to Parliament, where he would sit as a mouthpiece of Lord Devene. Then Edith intervened, and dropping Dick out of the matter, asked him to do this for her sake. She explained that for family reasons it would be a good thing if Dick won this seat, as thereby a new career would be open to him who sadly needed one; also that Dick himself would be most grateful.

The end of it was that Rupert consented, forgetting, or not being aware, that as an officer on leave he had no business to appear upon a party platform, a fact of which Dick did not think it necessary to remind him.

The meeting, which was one of the last of the campaign, took place in the corn-hall of a small country town, and was crowded by the supporters of Dick and a large contingent of his opponents. The candidate himself, who spoke glibly and well enough, for as Edith and others had often found out, Dick did not lack for readiness, gave his address, which was cheered by his friends and groaned at by his foes. It was of the stereotyped order—that is to say, utterly worthless, a mere collection of the parrot platitudes of the hour by which the great heart of the people was supposed to be moved, but for all that, well and forcibly delivered.

Then followed a heavy and long-winded member of Parliament, at whom, before he had done, the whole room hooted, while some of the occupants of the back benches began to sing and shuffle their feet. Next the chairman, a prosperous local manufacturer, rose and said that he was going to call upon Colonel Ullershaw of the Egyptian army, Companion of the Bath, member of the Distinguished Service Order, and of the Turkish Order of the Medjidie (he called it “Gee-gee,” or something like it), and the possessor of various medals, to say nothing of his being the relative and present heir of their most esteemed friend and neighbour, the noble Lord Devene, and therefore intimately connected with every one of them, to address them. The gallant Colonel would not make them a political speech, as they had had enough of politics for that night (at this the audience enthusiastically shouted, Hear, hear!), but he would tell them about the wars in Egypt which, although many of them did not approve of those wars, were still interesting to hear about as at any rate they paid for them (more hear! hears!). He might well call him gallant, as they would say also when he told them the following story, and to the absolute horror of Rupert, who was literally writhing on a back seat behind this dreadful man, and to the amusement of Edith sitting at his side, he proceeded to give a highly-coloured and garbled version of the exploit that did not win him the Victoria Cross, whereon a voice shouted:

“That’s all true. I was there. I saw the Colonel come in with the man.” (Renewed and tempestuous cheers.)