Acherley had his answer on his tongue, but Woosenham interposed. “But, after all, Griffin,” he said mildly, “we must move with the times—even if we don’t give way to the crowd. There’s no man whose opinion I value more than yours, as you know, but I think you do us an injustice.”
“An injustice?” the Squire sneered. “Not I! The fact is, Woosenham, you are letting others use you for a stalking horse. Some are fools, and some—I leave you to put a name to them! If you’d give two thoughts to this Railroad yourself, you’d see that you have nothing to gain by it, except money that you can do without! While you stand to lose more than money, and that’s your good name!”
Sir Charles changed color. “My good name?” he said, bristling feebly. “I don’t understand you, Griffin.”
One of the others, seeing a quarrel in prospect, intervened. “There, there,” he said, hoping to pour oil on the troubled waters. “Griffin doesn’t mean it, Woosenham. He doesn’t mean——”
“But I do mean it,” the old man insisted. “I mean every word of it.” He felt that the general sense was against him, but that was nothing to him. Wasn’t he the oldest present, and wasn’t it his duty to stop this folly if he could? “I tell you plainly, Woosenham,” he continued, “it isn’t only your affair, if you lend your name to this business. You take it up, and a lot of fools who know nothing about it, who know less, by G—d, than you do, will take it up too! And will put their money in it and go daundering up and down quoting you as if you were Solomon! And that tickles you! But what will they say of you if the affair turns out to be a swindle—another South Sea Bubble, by G—d! And half the town and half the country are ruined by it! What’ll they say of you then—and of us?”
Acherley could be silent no longer. “Nobody’s going to be ruined by it!” he retorted—he saw that Sir Charles looked much disturbed. “Nobody! If you ask me, I think what you’re saying is d—d nonsense.”
“It may be,” the Squire said sternly. “But just another word, please. I want you to understand, Woosenham, that this is not your affair only. It touches every one of us. What are we in this room? If we are those to whom the administration of this county is entrusted, let us act as such—and keep our hands clean. But if we are a set of money-changers and bill-mongers,” with contempt, “stalking horses for such men as Ovington the banker, dirtying our hands with all the tricks of the money market—that’s another matter. But I warn you—you can’t be both. And for my part—we don’t any longer wear swords to show we are gentlemen, but I’m hanged if I’ll wear an apron or have anything to do with this business. A railroad? Faugh! As if horses’ legs and Telford’s roads aren’t good enough for us, or as if tea-kettles will ever beat the Wonder coach—fifteen hours to London.”
Acherley had been restrained with difficulty, and he now broke loose. “Griffin,” he cried, “you’re damned offensive! If you wore a sword as you used to——”
“Pooh! Pooh!” said the Squire and shrugged his shoulders, while Sir Charles, terribly put out both by the violence of the scene and by the picture which the Squire had drawn, put in a feeble protest. “I must say,” he said, “I think this uncalled for, Griffin. I think you might have spared us this. You may not agree with us——”
“But damme if he shall insult us!” Acherley cried, trembling with passion.