“I am in my right,” Drury went on, “in immediately taking notice of that accusation. Mr. Speaker, the right honourable gentleman is unjust, when he makes that accusation. I can only hope, for the sake of his own honour, that he is not wilfully unjust. When he calls me a convicted felon, he utters, and he knows he utters, words which are false words, words which frame a lie.”
Here the storm broke out afresh, but it was silenced by the Speaker’s stern call for order, and Drury went on composedly with his defence.
“I was, it is true, convicted; I never was a felon. I was convicted, as anyone may learn who cares to take the trouble to read what I have published concerning this matter, on false evidence; I was betrayed by the treachery of a friend, of a man who on his death-bed confessed to the crime of which he had been guilty, a confession duly attested by unimpeachable witnesses.
“I stand here to-night with a conscience as clean as that of any member of this House, a conscience, I may venture to say, that is cleaner than that of the man who has wantonly, if not maliciously, accused me of what he may know, or ought to know, is not true. And, Sir, if I cannot within the scope of a life filled with many hardships, many temptations, and few successes, hope to fulfil the motto, ‘Vivit post funera Virtus,’ which, as I only too well remember, was the motto on the watch, which I was supposed to have stolen, and for the theft of which I was sentenced to transportation, still, Sir, I can cast back denial in the teeth of the right honourable member, from whose lips the charge has come, and to him I say in the presence of this honourable assembly that I can claim to stand amongst you, shoulder to shoulder, as an honest man.”
Drury sat down amidst renewed excitement; the cheers on our side were simply deafening, and I am glad to say that they were accompanied by hearty cheers from the other side.
Before they were quite silenced Drury’s assailant had the grace to get up and express his regret for what he had, in the heat of an unguarded moment, allowed himself to say.
So in the phrase familiar to the reports of foreign assemblies, “the incident then closed,” as far as the outer public was concerned. What I have told you, you will find in Hansard, if you choose to look for it.
What happened immediately afterwards, you will not find in Hansard.
After Drury’s antagonist had apologized, Drury rose and left the House. As he did so, one of the occupants of the Treasury Bench, my excellent friend Barkston, who was a member of the Cabinet, followed his example. A few minutes later I left the House myself, with my thoughts turned in the direction of the Ladies’ Gallery. In the long corridor, that runs parallel with the Library, I found two men in deep colloquy. They were John Drury and Samuel Barkston.
What Barkston told me himself a little later—we were old friends, Barkston and I—would seem incredible if it were not actually true.