“Because I look to this journal as a father does to an only son—as my pet, my pride, and the support and honor of myself and my name in the future.”
“You are proud of it.”
“It has made me, and it will do more for me hereafter than it has ever done yet.”
He paused, and then went on, with a glow in his swarthy face:
“Every man has his cherished object in this world, colonel. Mine is the success and glory of the Examiner. I intend to make of it what the London Times is in England, and the world—a great power, which shall lay down the law, control cabinets, mould parties, and direct events. It has given me much trouble to establish it, but ça ira now! From the Examiner I expect to realize the great dream of my life.”
“The dream of your life? What is that?—if I may ask without intrusion.”
“Oh! I make no secret of it, and as a gentleman speaking to a gentleman, can say what I could not in the society of roturiers or common people. My family is an old and honorable one in Virginia—this, by way of explanation only, I beg you to note. We are thus, people of old descent, but my branch of the family is ruined. My object is to reinstate it; and you will perhaps compare me to the scheming young politician in Bulwer’s ‘My Novel,’ who seeks to restore the family fortunes, and brighten up the lonely old house—in Yorkshire, is it? You remember?”
“Yes,” I said.
“Well, I always sympathized with that character. He is morally bad, you say: granted; but he is resolute and brave—and his object is noble.”
“I agree with you, the object is noble.”