“I thought you might like to know,” Gastineau went on lightly. “No doubt you regard me as a dangerous element in your atmosphere; an active enemy, eh? Well, perhaps I might be if it were worth my while; but five minutes’ reflection will surely show you that it isn’t. That’s all. Good-night.”
To Herriard’s relief he turned to go; then stopped. “By the way, as we are not likely to meet again, you are still bent on marrying the lady?”
“Certainly,” Herriard answered curtly.
“H’m! A mistake, my dear friend, and a mistake that will probably make all the difference. Blind obstinacy has led many a better man than you or I over a precipice. The clever man is he who knows when to abandon an untenable or dangerous position. Well, may you be wise before wisdom has gone beyond recall. I shall say no more. For the last time, good-night and good-bye.”
He nodded, indifferent as to whether his bidding were returned, and so went off at a saunter down the street. Herriard lingered in the shadow of his doorway, watching him till he had disappeared into the night.
CHAPTER XXV
A RIOT
ON the appointed day Herriard journeyed down to address his constituents at Bradbury. Since their meeting in Mount Street, he had seen or heard nothing of Gastineau. He had, however, kept on his guard through the busy days that followed, being too wary and too suspicious of Gastineau’s methods to be lulled into the belief that the active will was not still working against him. Nevertheless, as the days went by without a sign of Gastineau, or a suggestion of his aggressive enmity, days which brought him nearer and nearer to that supreme hour to which he scarcely dared look forward, his mind grew easier, and he found himself entertaining the hope that, after all, his enemy might, in his speech with him in the gate, have declared his real intentions, and that he would be troubled by him no more. Gastineau’s declared project of betaking himself to America was, at least, reasonable and likely enough. He had in the old days over and over again expressed his utter contempt for his English compeers, and told how, in his active life, he had longed for adversaries more worthy of his skill in fence. Then, allowing it to be quite possible that, with the memory of his former reputation, with his talent and determination, it would be a comparatively easy task for him to push himself again into the foremost place which he had once occupied, he would probably be withheld by the consideration that it might be now as a man under the cloud of a dark suspicion that he would stand forth. It was hardly to be supposed that Quickjohn’s theory would be allowed to slumber in silence. No; Paul Gastineau was assuredly too astute and too clear-sighted a man not to see that a second career in England was closed to him. His having lain for years perdu under an assumed name, having allowed the false report of his death to pass uncontradicted, would be in itself a salient cause of suspicion. Englishmen have ever fought shy, in public life at least, of men whose record was smirched with doubt. Few men, if any, have succeeded in living down an ugly scandal to the extent of gaining unreserved acceptance in a public career. Whatever the private lives of the units of out-door opinion may be, they are at least jealous of crooked ways leading to high places.
Reasoning thus, Herriard allowed his uneasiness to diminish, and, as the time of his marriage drew near, was able to indulge in a certain sense of happiness and security. It was in this mood that on the day appointed for his speech he journeyed down to Bradbury. On his arrival he had a good deal of business to get through with his agent and principal supporters, and this kept his mind so occupied that he gave scarcely a thought to the more momentous issues which he had left behind in town. He was, however, brought back to them in somewhat startling fashion when, on driving from his hotel to the hall where the meeting was to be held, he caught sight of a face, which was uncomfortably familiar to him, that of Hencher, Gastineau’s confidential body servant. But, after the first start it gave him, the idea of the man’s being there seemed so unlikely, and even preposterous, that he told himself he must have made a mistake; the Gastineau business was on his nerves, and had made him recognize Hencher in a somewhat similar-looking local man. Still, knowing Gastineau, and the subtle, enterprising methods of his vindictiveness, the idea gave him recurrent disquietude, and, try as he would, he could not dismiss from his mind the possibility that the man he had seen was really Hencher, and that his presence there foreboded mischief.
Up to the opening of the proceedings there had been no hint or idea of opposition, but soon after the business had commenced it became apparent that there was what seemed an organized band of malcontents in the body of the hall who meant to take every opportunity of interrupting the speeches. This opposition manifested itself unmistakably when Herriard rose to give his address, and as he proceeded the noise and interruptions grew more insistent. The chairman was powerless to preserve order, and, as the organizers of the meeting had anticipated no sort of disturbance, they had taken no pains to provide against such a contingency. There were a number of ill-looking fellows distributed about the hall who kept a running fire of interruptions; as soon as one set was silenced, the game was taken up by others in a different quarter. At last the disturbance reached such a pitch that Herriard was unable to make himself heard, and to continue speaking was clearly futile. At this juncture two or three stray policemen were brought in with the object of ejecting, or, at least, overawing, the rowdy element. It, however, proved to be the means of bringing the uproar to a climax. A provincial policeman is usually only in a limited and constructive sense typical of the Law. These poor men, received with a derisive roar, stood looking rather foolish and conspicuously incompetent to deal with the situation. The disturbers of the meeting rose at them with defiance and threats, also with chaff of an aggressively personal nature. In the midst of all this the purpose of the meeting, which was Herriard’s address, became a thing of naught; so he and his supporters on the platform sat down to await the result of the row in more or less patient helplessness.
Suddenly a whistle sounded through the hall, and with an ominously threatening cry the malcontents in all parts of the audience turned and began to fight their way towards the platform.