Another day, happening to look into the goat-hair trunk, he saw that account-book, containing the addresses of the signatories to his old “association”, and was overjoyed. “Quite a little army”, he tenderly said: “I won't forget them”.
After two months he left Hadston for London, having in his head a new age hatched.
XXVIII. — THE LETTER
It was night when Hogarth broke into the presence of Loveday at Cheyne Gardens with a glad face, crying: “Forgive me, my friend, for being a boor!”
“You are forgiven”, Loveday answered with his smile, hastening to meet him: “the broken picture, you see, is in a better frame, and so are we. What could have made us invent a quarrel about—land, of all things!”
“Come, let us talk”, said Hogarth: “not long—all about land, and sea, too. I suppose you have nothing to tell about my sister? Never mind—we shall find her. Come, sit and give me all your intelligence. You are not interested in land, then? You will be in ten minutes—it is interesting. Listen: all the land of the earth is mine, and all the sea especially—a good thing, for, for a hundred years Europe, especially England, has wanted a master: the anarchy of our modern life is too terrible! it cannot arrange itself; and now the hour has struck, though none has heard the bell”.
“Hogarth! but you gabble like a mad god”, cried Loveday. “I am all in the dark—”
“I will tell you”.