“Pray explain yourself,” says Bertram, with hostility in his tone.
Sir Henry feels nettled at the manner in which his amiably intended visit is received.
“Certainly,” he says. “In two words, you have a friend of the name of Hopper?”
Bertram colours.
“Frederic Hopper, yes. A very unfortunate person, originally a victim of the London police.”
“Possibly. The police are always accused of being oppressors or accomplices,” continues the minister. “This person is known to them as ‘Wet Whistle,’ because he has exaggerated views of the medicinal value of stimulants. This victim came again in collision with the brute force of the police early this morning, and you were present.”
Bertram is silent, conscious that the episode is not heroic.
“Mr. Frederic Hopper does not interest me in the least,” says Stanhope, with culpable heartlessness; “but it seems you used very singular language to the constables in the Park; and when the man was brought before the Westminster police-court he gave your name as that of the person who had indoctrinated him with subversive views, and it seems that you admitted having done so to the constables in Hyde Park, and stated that you deserved arrest more than did this man Hopper. The police, of course, reported all that you said at headquarters; and you are likely to be very seriously annoyed about this matter. It is very dangerous to play at anarchism in these days——”
“If any one is to blame, it is I rather than Hopper; but there is no question of anarchism.”
“I should certainly consider you the more to blame of the two. A magistrate would take the same view. The Chief Commissioner is of opinion that you ought to have been arrested with Hopper, since he places all the blame of the subversive principles which he had been delivering in public upon you.”