“Each for himself, and devil take the hindmost,” said Hesketh; “and when the hindmost is England, as our friend Murchison declares it will be—”
“So much the worse for England,” said Milburn, amiably. “But we should all be sorry to see it and, for my part, I don’t believe such a thing is at all likely. And you may be certain of one thing,” he continued, impressively: “No flag but the Union Jack will ever wave over Canada.”
“Oh, I’m sure of that!” Hesketh responded. “Since I have heard more of your side of the question I am quite convinced that loyalty to England and complete commercial independence—I might say even commercial antagonism—may exist together in the colonies. It seems paradoxical, but it is true.”
Mr Hesketh had naturally been hearing a good deal more of Mr Milburn’s side of the question, staying as he was under Mr Milburn’s hospitable roof. It had taken the least persuasion in the world to induce him to make the Milburns a visit. He found them delightful people. He described them in his letters home as the most typically Canadian family he had met, quite simple and unconventional, but thoroughly warm-hearted, and touchingly devoted to far-away England. Politically he could not see eye to eye with Mr Milburn, but he could quite perceive Mr Milburn’s grounds for the view he held. One thing, he explained to his correspondents, you learned at once by visiting the colonies, and that was to make allowance for local conditions, both social and economic.
He and Mr Milburn had long serious discussions, staying behind in the dining-room to have them after tea, when the ladies took their fancy work into the drawing-room, and Dora’s light touch was heard upon the piano. It may be supposed that Hesketh brought every argument forward in favour of the great departure that had been conceived in England; he certainly succeeded in interesting his host very deeply in the English point of view. He had, however, to encounter one that was made in Canada—it resided in Mr Milburn as a stone might reside in a bag of wool. Mr Milburn wouldn’t say that this preference trade idea, if practicable, might not work out for the benefit of the Empire as a whole. That was a thing he didn’t pretend to know. But it wouldn’t work out for his benefit that was a thing he did know. When a man was confronted with a big political change the question he naturally asked himself was, “Is it going to be worth my while?” and he acted on the answer to that question. He was able to explain to Hesketh, by a variety of facts and figures, of fascinating interest to the inquiring mind, just how and where such a concern as the Milburn Boiler Company would be “hit” by the new policy, after which he asked his guest fairly, “Now, if you were in my shoes, would you see your way to voting for any such thing?”
“If I were in your shoes,” said Hesketh, thoughtfully, “I can’t say I would.”
On grounds of sentiment, Octavius assured him, they were absolutely at one, but in practical matters a man had to proceed on business principles. He went about at this time expressing great esteem for Hesketh’s capacity to assimilate facts. His opportunity to assimilate them was not curtailed by any further demand for his services in the South Fox campaign. He was as willing as ever, he told Lorne Murchison, to enlist under the flag, and not for the first time; but Murchison and Farquharson, and that lot, while grateful for the offer, seemed never quite able to avail themselves of it: the fact was all the dates were pretty well taken up. No doubt, Hesketh acknowledged, the work could be done best by men familiar with the local conditions, but he could not avoid the conviction that this attitude toward proffered help was very like dangerous trifling. Possibly these circumstances gave him an added impartiality for Mr Milburn’s facts. As the winter advanced his enthusiasm for the country increased with his intelligent appreciation of the possibilities of the Elgin boiler. The Elgin boiler was his object-lesson in the development of the colonies; he paid, several visits to the works to study it, and several times he thanked Mr Milburn for the opportunity of familiarizing himself with such an important and promising branch of Canadian industry.
“It looks,” said Octavius one evening in early February, “as if the Grits were getting a little anxious about South Fox—high time, too. I see Cruickshank is down to speak at Clayfield on the seventh, and Tellier is to be here for the big meeting at the opera house on the eleventh.”
“Tellier is Minister of Public Works, isn’t he?” asked Hesketh.
“Yes—and Cruickshank is an ex-Minister,” replied Mr Milburn. “Looks pretty shaky when they’ve got to take men like that away from their work in the middle of the session.”