the man who knew too much-第22章

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ustache　and　pale；　drooping　features；　had　the　neutral　nature　of　a　chameleon。　Anyhow；　he　could　always　get　on　with　viceroys　and　Cabinet　Ministers　and　all　the　great　men　responsible　for　great　departments；　and　talk　to　each　of　them　on　his　own　subject；　on　the　branch　of　study　with　which　he　was　most　seriously　concerned。　Thus　he　could　　converse　with　the　Minister　for　War　about　silkworms；　with　the　Minister　of　Education　about　detective　stories；　with　the　Minister　of　Labor　about　Limoges　enamel；　and　with　the　Minister　of　Missions　and　Moral　Progress　（if　that　be　his　correct　title）　about　the　pantomime　boys　of　the　last　four　decades。　And　as　the　first　was　his　first　cousin；　the　second　his　second　cousin；　the　third　his　brother…in…law；　and　the　fourth　his　uncle　by　marriage；　this　conversational　versatility　certainly　served　in　one　sense　to　create　a　happy　family。　But　March　never　seemed　to　get　a　glimpse　of　that　domestic　interior　to　which　men　of　the　middle　classes　are　accustomed　in　their　friendships；　and　which　is　indeed　the　foundation　of　friendship　and　love　and　everything　else　in　any　sane　and　stable　society。　He　wondered　whether　Horne　Fisher　was　both　an　orphan　and　an　only　child。

It　was；　therefore；　with　something　like　a　start　that　he　found　that　Fisher　had　a　brother；　much　more　prosperous　and　powerful　than　himself；　though　hardly；　March　thought；　so　entertaining。　Sir　Henry　Harland　Fisher；　with　half　the　alphabet　after　his　name；　was　something　at　the　Foreign　Office　far　more　tremendous　than　the　Foreign　Secretary。　Apparently；　it　ran　in　the　family；　after　all；　for　it　seemed　there　was　another　brother；　Ashton　Fisher；　in　India；　rather　more　tremendous　than　the　Viceroy。　Sir　Henry　Fisher　was　a　heavier；　but　handsomer　edition　of　his　brother；　with　a　brow　equally　bald；　but　much　more　smooth。　He　was　very　courteous；　but　a　shade　patronizing；　not　only　to　March；　but　even；　as　March　fancied；　to　Horne　Fisher　as　well。　The　latter　gentleman；　who　had　many　intuitions　about　the　half…formed　thoughts　of　others；　glanced　at　the　topic　himself　as　they　came　away　from　the　great　house　in　Berkeley　Square。

〃Why；　don't　you　know；〃　he　observed　quietly；　〃that　I　am　the　fool　of　the　family？〃

〃It　must　be　a　clever　family；〃　said　Harold　March；　with　a　smile。

〃Very　gracefully　expressed；〃　replied　Fisher；　〃that　is　the　best　of　having　a　literary　training。　Well；　perhaps　it　is　an　exaggeration　to　say　I　am　the　fool　of　the　family。　It's　enough　to　say　I　am　the　failure　of　the　family。〃

〃It　seems　queer　to　me　that　you　should　fail　especially；〃　remarked　the　journalist。　〃As　they　say　in　the　examinations；　what　did　you　fail　in？〃

〃Politics；〃　replied　his　friend。　〃I　stood　for　Parliament　when　I　was　quite　a　young　man　and　got　in　by　an　enormous　majority；　with　loud　cheers　and　chairing　round　the　town。　Since　then；　of　course；　I've　been　rather　under　a　cloud。〃

〃I'm　afraid　I　don't　quite　understand　the　'of　course；'〃　answered　March；　laughing。

〃That　part　of　it　isn't　worth　understanding；〃　said　Fisher。　〃But　as　a　matter　of　fact；　old　chap；　the　other　part　of　it　was　rather　odd　and　interesting。　Quite　a　detective　story　in　its　way；　as　well　as　the　first　lesson　I　had　in　what　modern　politics　are　made　of。　If　you　like；　I'll　tell　you　all　about　it。〃　And　the　following；　recast　in　a　less　allusive　and　conversational　manner；　is　the　story　that　he　told。


Nobody　privileged　of　late　years　to　meet　Sir　Henry　Harland　Fisher　would　believe　that　he　had　ever　been　called　Harry。　But；　indeed；　he　had　been　boyish　enough　when　a　boy；　and　that　serenity　which　shone　on　him　through　life；　and　which　now　took　the　form　of　gravity；　had　once　taken　the　form　of　gayety。　His　friends　would　have　said　that　he　was　all　the　more　ripe　in　his　maturity　for　having　been　young　in　his　youth。　His　enemies　would　have　said　that　he　was　still　light　minded；　but　no　longer　light　hearted。　But　in　any　case；　the　whole　of　the　story　Horne　Fisher　had　to　tell　arose　out　of　the　accident　which　had　made　young　Harry　Fisher　private　secretary　to　Lord　Saltoun。　Hence　his　later　connection　with　the　Foreign　Office；　which　had；　indeed；　come　to　him　as　a　sort　of　legacy　from　his　lordship　when　that　great　man　was　the　power　behind　the　throne。　This　is　not　the　place　to　say　much　about　Saltoun；　little　as　was　known　of　him　and　much　as　there　was　worth　knowing。　England　has　had　at　least　three　or　four　such　secret　statesmen。　An　aristocratic　polity　produces　every　now　and　then　an　aristocrat　who　is　also　an　accident；　a　man　of　intellectual　independence　and　insight；　a　Napoleon　born　in　the　purple。　His　vast　work　was　mostly　invisible；　and　very　little　could　be　got　out　of　him　in　private　life　except　a　crusty　and　rather　cynical　sense　of　humor。　But　it　was　certainly　the　accident　of　his　presence　at　a　family　dinner　of　the　Fishers；　and　the　unexpected　opinion　he　expressed；　which　turned　what　might　have　been　a　dinner…table　joke　into　a　sort　of　small　sensational　novel。

Save　for　Lord　Saltoun；　it　was　a　family　party　of　Fishers；　for　the　only　other　distinguished　stranger　had　just　departed　after　dinner；　leaving　the　　rest　to　their　coffee　and　cigars。　This　had　been　a　figure　of　some　interesta　young　Cambridge　　man　named　Eric　Hughes　who　was　the　rising　hope　of　the　party　of　Reform；　to　which　the　Fisher　family；　along　with　their　friend　Saltoun；　had　long　been　at　least　formally　attached。　The　personality　of　Hughes　was　substantially　summed　up　in　the　fact　that　he　talked　eloquently　and　earnestly　　through　the　whole　dinner；　but　left　immediately　after　to　　be　in　time　for　an　appointment。　All　his　actions　had　something　at　once　ambitious　and　conscientious；　he　drank　no　wine；　but　was　slightly　intoxicated　with　words。　And　his　face　and　phrases　were　on　the　front　page　of　all　the　newspapers　　just　then；　because　he　was　contesting　the　safe　seat　of　Sir　Francis　Verner　in　the　great　by…election　in　the　west。　Everybody　was　talking　　about　the　powerful　speech　against　squirarchy　which　he　had　just　delivered；　even　in　the　Fisher　circle　everybody　talked　about　it　except　Horne　Fisher　himself　who　sat　in　a　corner；　lowering　over　the　fire。

〃We　jolly　well　have　to　thank　him　for　putting　some　new　life　into　the　old　party；〃　Ashton　Fisher　was　saying。　〃This　campaign　against　the　old　squires　just　hits　the　degree　of　democracy　there　is　in　this　county。　This　act　for　extending　county　council　control　is　practically　his　bill；　so　you　may　say　he's　in　the　government　even　before　he's　in　the　House。〃

〃One's　easier　than　the　other；〃　said　Harry；　carelessly。　〃I　bet　the　squire's　a　bigger　pot　than　the　county　council　in　that　county。　Verner　is　pretty　well　rooted；　all　these　rural　places　are　what　you　call　reactionary。　Damning　aristocrats　won't　alter　it。〃

〃He　damns　them　rather　well；〃　observed　Ashton。　〃We　never　had　a　better　meeting　than　the　one　in　Barkington；　which　generally　goes　Constitutional。　And　when　he　said；　'Sir　Francis　may　boast　of　blue　blood；　let　us　show　we　have　red　blood；'　and　went　on　to　talk　about　manhood　and　liberty；　the　room　simply　rose　at　him。〃

〃Speaks　very　well；〃　said　Lord　Saltoun；　gruffly；　making　his　only　contribution　to　the　conversation　so　far。

Then　the　almost　equally　silent　Horne　Fisher　suddenly　spoke；　without；　taking　his　brooding　eyes　off　the　fire。

〃What　I　can't　understand；〃　he　said；　〃is　why　nobody　is　ever　slanged　for　the　real　reason。〃

〃Hullo！〃　remarked　Harry；　humorously；　〃you　beginning　to　take　notice？〃

〃Well；　take　Verner；〃　continued　Horne　Fisher。　〃If　we　want　to　attack　Verner；　why　not　attack　him？　Why　compliment　him　on　being　a　romantic　reactionary　aristocrat？　Who　is　Verner？　Where　does　he　come　from？　His　name　sounds　old；　but　I　never　heard　of　it　before；　as　the　man　said　of　the　Crucifixion。　Why　talk　about　his　blue　blood？　His　blood　may　be　gamboge　yellow　with　green　spots；　for　all　anybody　knows。　All　we　know　is　that　the　old　squire；　Hawker；　somehow　ran　through　his　money　（and　his　second　wife's；　I　suppose；　for　she　was　rich　enough）；　and　sold　the　estate　to　a　man　named　Verner。　What　did　he　make　his　money　in？　Oil？　Army　contracts？〃

〃I　don't　know；〃　said　Saltoun；　looking　at　him　thoughtfully。

〃First　thing　I　ever　knew　you　didn't　know；〃　cried　the　exuberant　Harry。

〃And　there's　more；　besides；〃　went　on　Horne　Fisher；　who　seemed　to　have　suddenly　found　his　tongue。　〃If　we　want　country　people　to　vote　for　us；　why　don't　we　get　somebody　with　some　notion　about　the　country？　We　don't　talk　to　people　in　Threadneedle　Street　about　nothing　but　turnips　　and　pigsties。　Why　do　we　talk　to　people　in　Somerset　about　nothing　but　slums　and　socialism？　Why　don't　we　give　the　squire's　land　to　the　squire's　tenants；　instead　of　dragging　in　the　county　council？〃

〃Three　acres　and　a　cow；〃　cried　Harry；　emitting　what　the　Parliamentary　reports　call　an　ironical　cheer。

〃Yes；〃　replied　his　brother；　stubbornly。　〃Don't　you　think　agricultural　laborers　would　rather　have　three　acres　and　a　cow　than　three　acres　of　printed　forms　and　a　committee？　Why　doesn't　somebody　start　a　yeoman　party　in　politics；　appealing　to　the　old　traditions　of　the　small　landowner？　And　why　don't　they　attack　men　like　Verner　for　what　they　are；　which　is　something　about　as　old　and　traditional　as　an　American　oil　trust？〃

〃You'd　better　lead　the　yeoman　party　yourself；〃　laughed　Harry。　〃Don't　you　think　it　would　be　a　joke；　Lord　Saltoun；　to　see　my　brother　and　his　merry　men；　with　their　bows　and　bills；　marching　down　to　Somerset　all　in　Lincoln　green　instead　of　Lincoln　and　Bennet　hats？〃

〃No；〃　answered　Old　Saltoun；　〃I　don't　think　it　would　be　a　joke。　I　think　it　would　be　an　exceedingly　serious　and　sensible　idea。〃

〃Well；　I'm　jiggered！〃　cried　Harry　Fisher；　staring　at　him。　〃I　said　just　now　it　was　the　first　fact　you　didn't　know；　and　I　should　say　this　is　the　first　joke　you　didn't　see。〃

〃I've　seen　a　good　many　things　in　my　time；〃　said　the　old　man；　in　his　rather　sour　fashion。　〃I've　told　a　good　many　lies　in　my　time；　too；　and　perhaps　I've　got　rather　sick　of　them。　But　there　are　lies　and　lies；　for　all　that。　Gentlemen　used　to　lie　just　as　schoolboys　lie；　because　they　hung　together　and　partly　to　help　one　another　out。　But　I'm　damned　if　I　can　see　why　we　should　lie　for　these　cosmopolitan　cads　who　only　help　themselves。　They're　not　backing　us　up　any　more；　they're　simply　crowding　us　out。　If　a　man　like　your　brother　likes　to　go　into　Parliament　as　a　yeoman　or　a　gentleman　or　a　Jacobite　or　an　Ancient　Briton；　I　should　say　it　would　be　a　jolly　good　thing。〃

In　the　rather　startled　silence　that　followed　Horne　Fisher　sprang　to　his　feet　and　all　his　dreary　manner　dropped　off　him。

〃I'm　ready　to　do　it　to…morrow；〃　he　cried。　〃I　suppose　none　of　you　fellows　would　back　me　up。〃

Then　Harry　Fisher　showed　the　finer　side　of　his　impetuosity。　He　made　a　sudden　movement　as　if　to　shake　hands。

〃You're　a　sport；〃　he　said；　〃and　I'll　back　you　up；　if　nobody　else　will。　But　we　can　all　back　you　up；　can't　we？　I　see　what　Lord　Saltoun　means；　and；　of　course；　he's　right。　He's　always　right。〃

〃So　I　will　go　down　to　Somerset；〃　said　Horne　Fisher。

〃Yes；　it　is　on　the　way　to　Westminster；〃　said　Lord　Saltoun；　with　a　smile。

And　so　it　happened　that　Horne　Fisher　arrived　some　days　later　at　the　little　station　of　a　rather　remote　market　town　in　the　west；　accompanied　by　a　light　suitcase　and　a　lively　brother。　It　must　not　be　supposed；　however；　that　the　brother's　cheerful　tone　consisted　entirely　of　chaff。　He　supported　the　new　candidate　with　hope　as　well　as　hilarity；　and　at　the　back　of　his　boisterous　partnership　there　was　an　increasing　sympathy　and　encouragement。　Harry　Fisher　had　always　had　an　affe