“Oh, Grace has always been a mild and ineffectual conspirator, and she thinks every other woman is built on the same plan. But you did get Fleetwood’s job for him, you know,” he repeated with laughing insistence.
“I had more faith than you in human nature, that’s all.” She paused a moment, and then added: “Personally, you know, I have always rather disliked him.”
“Oh, I never doubted your disinterestedness. But you are not going to turn against your candidate, are you?”
She hesitated. “I am not sure; circumstances alter cases. When you made Fleetwood Attorney-General two years ago he was the inevitable man for the place.”
“Well—is there a better one now?”
“I don’t say there is—it’s not my business to look for him, at any rate. What I mean is that at that time Fleetwood was worth risking anything for—now I don’t know that he is.”
“But, even if he were not, what do I risk for him now? I don’t see your point. Since he didn’t cost me my re-election, what can he possibly cost me now I’m in?”
“He’s immensely unpopular. He will cost you a great deal of popularity, and you have never pretended to despise that.”
“No, nor ever sacrificed anything essential to it. Are you really asking me to offer up Fleetwood to it now?”
“I don’t ask you to do anything—except to consider if he is essential. You said you were over-tired and wanted to bring a fresh mind to bear on the other appointments. Why not delay this one too?”
Mornway turned in his chair and looked at her searchingly. “This means something, Ella. What have you heard?”
“Just what you have, probably, but with more attentive ears. The very record you are so proud of has made George Fleetwood innumerable enemies in the last two years. The Lead Trust people are determined to ruin him, and if his reappointment is attacked you will not be spared.”
“Attacked? In the papers, you mean?”
She paused. “You know the ‘Spy’ has always threatened a campaign. And he has a past, as you say.”
“Which was public property long before I first appointed him. Nothing could be gained by raking up his old political history. Everybody knows he didn’t come to me with clean hands, but to hurt him now the ‘Spy’ would have to fasten a new scandal on him, and that would not be easy.”
“It would be easy to invent one!”
“Unproved accusations don’t count much against a man of such proved capacity. The best answer is his record of the last two years. That is what the public looks at.”
“The public looks wherever the press points. And besides, you have your own future to consider. It would be a pity to sacrifice such a career as yours for the sake of backing up even as useful a man as George Fleetwood.” She paused, as if checked by his gathering frown, but went on with fresh decision: “Oh, I’m not speaking of personal ambition; I’m thinking of the good you can do. Will Fleetwood’s reappointment secure the greatest good of the greatest number, if his unpopularity reacts on you to the extent of hindering your career?”
The Governor’s brow cleared and he rose with a smile. “My dear, your reasoning is admirable, but we must leave my career to take care of itself. Whatever I may be to-morrow, I am Governor of Midsylvania to-day, and my business as Governor is to appoint as Attorney-General the best man I can find for the place—and that man is George Fleetwood, unless you have a better one to propose.” She met this with perfect good-humor. “No, I have told you already that that is not my business. But I have a candidate of my own for another office, so Grace was not quite wrong, after all.”
“Well, who is your candidate, and for what office? I only hope you don’t want to change cooks!”
“Oh, I do that without your authority, and you never even know it has been done.” She hesitated, and then said with a bright directness: “I want you to do something for poor Gregg.”
“Gregg? Rufus Gregg?” He stared. “What an extraordinary request! What can I do for a man I’ve had to kick out for dishonesty?”
“Not much, perhaps; I know it’s difficult. But, after all, it was your kicking him out that ruined him.”
“It was his dishonesty that ruined him. He was getting a good salary as my stenographer, and if he hadn’t sold those letters to the ‘Spy’ he would have been getting it still.”
She wavered. “After all, nothing was proved—he always denied it.”
“Good heavens, Ella! Have you ever doubted his guilt?”
“No—no; I don’t mean that. But, of course, his wife and children believe in him, and think you were cruel, and he has been out of work so long that they are starving.”
“Send them some money, then; I wonder you thought it necessary to ask.”
“I shouldn’t have thought it so, but money is not what I want. Mrs. Gregg is proud, and it is hard to help her in that way. Couldn’t you give him work of some kind—just a little post in a corner?”
“My dear child, the little posts in the corner are just the ones where honesty is essential. A footpad doesn’t wait under a street-lamp! Besides, how can I recommend a man whom I have dismissed for theft? I won’t say a word to hinder his getting a place, but on my conscience I can’t give him one.”
She paused and turned toward the door silently, though without any show of resentment; but on the threshold she lingered long enough to say: “Yet you gave Fleetwood his chance!”
“Fleetwood? You class Fleetwood with Gregg? The best man in the State with a little beggarly thieving nonentity? It’s evident enough you’re new at wire-pulling, or you would show more skill at it!”
She met this with a laugh. “I’m not likely to have much practice if my first attempt is such a failure. Well, I will see if Mrs. Gregg will let me help her a little—I suppose there is nothing else to be done.”
“Nothing that we can do. If Gregg wants a place he had better get one on the staff of the ‘Spy.’ He served them better than he did me.”
III
THE Governor stared at the card with a frown. Half an hour had elapsed since his wife had gone upstairs to dress for the big dinner from which official duties excused him, and he was still lingering over the fire before preparing for his own solitary meal. He expected no one that evening but his old friend Hadley Shackwell, with whom it was his long-established habit to talk over his defeats and victories in the first lull after the conflict; and Shackwell was not likely to turn up till nine o’clock. The unwonted stillness of the room, and the knowledge that he had a quiet evening before him, filled the Governor with a luxurious sense of repose. The world seemed to him a good place to be in, and his complacency was shadowed only by the fear that he had perhaps been a trifle over-harsh in refusing his wife’s plea for the stenographer. There seemed, therefore, a certain fitness in the appearance of the man’s card, and the Governor with a sigh gave orders that Gregg should be shown in.
Gregg was still the soft-stepping scoundrel who invited the toe of honesty, and Mornway, as he entered, was conscious of a sharp revulsion of feeling. But it was impossible to evade the interview, and he sat silent while the man stated his case.
Mrs. Mornway had represented the stenographer as being in desperate straits, and ready to accept any job that could be found, but though his appearance might have seemed to corroborate her account, he evidently took a less hopeless view of his case, and the Governor found with surprise that he had fixed his eye on a clerkship in one of the Government offices, a post which had been half promised him before the incident of the letters. His plea was that the Governor’s charge, though unproved, had so injured his reputation that he could only hope to clear himself by getting some sort of small job under the Administration. After that, it would be easy for him to obtain any employment he wanted.
He met Mornway’s refusal with civility, but remarked after a moment: “I hadn’t expected this, Governor. Mrs. Mornway led me to think that something might be arranged.”
The Governor’s tone was brief. “Mrs.
Mornway is sorry for your wife and children, and for their sake would be glad to find work for you, but she could not have led you to think that there was any chance of your getting a clerkship.”
“Well, that’s just it; she said she thought she could manage it.”
“You have misinterpreted my wife’s interest in your family. Mrs. Mornway has nothing to do with the distribution of Government offices.” The Governor broke off, annoyed to find himself asseverating for the second time so obvious a fact.
There was a moment’s silence; then Gregg said, still in a perfectly equable tone: “You’ve always been hard on me, Governor, but I don’t bear malice. You accused me of selling those letters to the ‘Spy’—”
The Governor made an impatient gesture.
“You couldn’t prove your case,” Gregg went on imperturbably, “but you were right in one respect. I was on confidential terms with the ‘Spy.’” He paused and glanced at Mornway, whose face remained immovable. “I’m on the same terms with them still, and I’m ready to let you have the benefit of it if you’ll give me the chance to retrieve my good name.”
In spite of his irritation the Governor could not repress a smile.
“In other words, you will do a dirty trick for me if I undertake to convince people that you are the soul of honor.”
Gregg smiled also.
“There are always two ways of putting a thing. Why not call it a plain case of give and take? I want something and can pay for it.”
“Not in any coin I have a use for,” said Mornway, pushing back his chair.
Gregg hesitated; then he said: “Perhaps you don’t mean to reappoint Fleetwood.” The Governor was silent, and he continued: “If you do, don’t kick me out a second time. I’m not threatening you—I’m speaking as a friend. Mrs. Mornway has been kind to my wife, and I’d like to help her.”
The Governor rose, gripping his chair-back sternly. “You will be kind enough to leave my wife’s name out of the discussion. I supposed you knew me well enough to know that I don’t buy newspaper secrets at any price, least of all at that of the public money!”
Gregg, who had risen also, stood a few feet off, looking at him inscrutably.
“Is that final, Governor?”
“Quite final.”
“Well, good evening, then.”
IV
SHACKWELL and the Governor sat over the evening embers. It was after ten o’clock, and the servant had carried away the coffee and liqueurs, leaving the two men to their cigars. Mornway had once more lapsed into his armchair, and sat with outstretched feet, gazing comfortably at his friend.
Shackwell was a small dry man of fifty, with a face as sallow and freckled as a winter pear, a limp mustache, and shrewd, melancholy eyes.
“I am glad you have given yourself a day’s rest,” he said, looking at the Governor.
“Well, I don’t know that I needed it. There’s such exhilaration in victory that I never felt fresher.”
“Ah, but the fight’s just beginning.”
“I know—but I’m ready for it. You mean the campaign against Fleetwood. I understand there is to be a big row. Well, he and I are used to rows.”
Shackwell paused, surveying his cigar. “You knew the ‘Spy’ meant to lead the attack?”
“Yes. I was offered a glimpse of the documents this afternoon.”
Shackwell started up. “You didn’t refuse?”
Mornway related the incident of Gregg’s visit. “I could hardly buy my information at that price,” he said, “and, besides, it is really Fleetwood’s business this time. I suppose he has heard the report, but it doesn’t seem to bother him. I rather thought he would have looked in to-day to talk things over, but I haven’t seen him.”
Shackwell continued to twist his cigar through his sallow fingers without remembering to light it. “You’re determined to reappoint Fleetwood?” he asked at length.
The Governor caught him up. “You’re the fourth person who has asked me that to-day! You haven’t lost faith in him, have you, Hadley?”
“Not an atom!” said the other with emphasis.
“Well, then, what are you all thinking of, to suppose I can be frightened by a little newspaper talk? Besides, if Fleetwood is not afraid, why should I be?”
“Because you’ll be involved in it with him.”
The Governor laughed. “What have they got against me now?”
Shackwell, standing up, confronted his friend solemnly. “This—that Fleetwood bought his appointment two years ago.”
“Ah—bought it of me? Why didn’t it come out at the time?”
“Because it wasn’t known then. It has only been found out lately.”
“Known—found out? This is magnificent! What was my price, and what did I do with the money?”
Shackwell glanced about the room, and his eyes returned to Mornway’s face.
“Look here, John, Fleetwood is not the only man in the world.”
“The only man?”
“The only Attorney-General. The ‘Spy’ has the Lead Trust behind it and means to put up a savage fight. Mud sticks, and—”
“Hadley, is this a conspiracy? You’re saying to me just what Ella said this afternoon.”
At the mention of Mrs. Mornway’s name a silence fell between the two men and the Governor moved uneasily in his chair.
“You are not advising me to chuck Fleetwood because the ‘Spy’ is going to accuse me of having sold him his first appointment?” he said at length.
Shackwell drew a deep breath. “You say yourself that Mrs. Mornway gave you the same advice this afternoon.”
“Well, what of that? Do you imagine that my wife distrib—” The Governor broke off with an exasperated laugh.
Shackwell, leaning against the mantelpiece, looked down into the embers. “I didn’t say the ‘Spy’ meant to accuse you of having sold the office.”
Mornway stood up slowly, his eyes on his friend’s averted face. The ashes dropped from his cigar, scattering a white trail across the carpet which had excited Mrs. Nimick’s envy.
“The office is in my gift. If I didn’t sell it, who did?” he demanded.
Shackwell laid a hand on his arm. “For heaven’s sake, John—”
“Who did, who did?” the Governor violently repeated.
The two men faced each other in the closely curtained silence of the dim luxurious room. Shackwell’s eyes again wandered, as if summoning the walls to reply. Then he said, “I have positive information that the ‘Spy’ will say nothing if you don’t appoint Fleetwood.”
“And what will it say if I do appoint him?”
“That he bought his first appointment from your wife.”
The Governor stood silent, immovable, while the blood crept slowly from his strong neck to his lowering brows. Once he laughed, then he set his lips and continued to gaze into the fire. After a while he looked at his cigar and shook the freshly formed cone of ashes carefully upon the hearth. He had just turned again to Shackwell when the door opened and the butler announced: “Mr. Fleetwood.”
The room swam about Shackwell, and when he recovered himself, Mornway, with outstretched hand, was advancing quietly to meet his guest.
Fleetwood was a smaller man than the Governor. He was erect and compact, with a face full of dry energy, which seemed to press forward with the spring of his prominent features, as though it were the weapon with which he cleared his way through the world. He was in evening dress, scrupulously appointed, but pale and nervous. Of the two men, it was Mornway who was the more composed.
“I thought I should have seen you before this,” he said.
Fleetwood returned his grasp and shook hands with Shackwell.
“I knew you needed to be let alone. I didn’t mean to come tonight, but I wanted to say a word to you.”
At this, Shackwell, who had fallen into the background, made a motion of leave-taking, but the Governor arrested it.
“We haven’t any secrets from Hadley, have we, Fle
etwood?”
“Certainly not. I am glad to have him stay. I have simply come to say that I have been thinking over my future arrangements, and that I find it will not be possible for me to continue in office.”
There was a long pause, during which Shackwell kept his eyes on Mornway. The Governor had turned pale, but when he spoke his voice was full and firm.
“This is sudden,” he said.
Fleetwood stood leaning against a high chair-back, fretting its carved ornaments with restless fingers. “It is sudden—yes. I—there are a variety of reasons.”
“Is one of them the fact that you are afraid of what the ‘Spy’ is going to say?”
The Attorney-General flushed deeply and moved away a few steps. “I’m sick of mud-throwing,” he muttered.
“George Fleetwood!” Mornway exclaimed. He had advanced toward his friend, and the two stood confronting each other, already oblivious of Shackwell’s presence.
“It’s not only that, of course. I’ve been frightfully hard-worked. My health has given way—”
“Since yesterday?”
Fleetwood forced a smile. “My dear fellow, what a slave-driver you are! Hasn’t a man the right to take a rest?”
“Not a soldier on the eve of battle. You have never failed me before.”
“I don’t want to fail you now. But it isn’t the eve of battle—you’re in, and that’s the main thing.”
“The main thing at present is that you promised to stay in with me, and that I must have your real reason for breaking your word.”
Fleetwood made a deprecatory movement. “My dear Governor, if you only knew it, I’m doing you a service in backing out.”
“A service—why?”
“Because I’m hated—because the Lead Trust wants my blood, and will have yours too if you appoint me.”
“Ah, that’s the real reason, then—you’re afraid of the ‘Spy’?”
“Afraid—?”
The Governor continued to speak with dry deliberation. “Evidently, then, you know what they mean to say.”
Fleetwood laughed. “One needn’t do that to be sure it will be abominable!”
The Hermit and the Wild Woman, and Other Stories Page 18
