"This is Mr. Orden's
first visit amongst us. He is a stranger. I repeat that he is
not one of us. Where is his power? He has none. Can he do what
any one of us can--stop the pulse of the nation? Can he still
its furnace fires? Can he empty the shipyards and factories, hold
the trains upon their lines, bring the miners up from under the
earth? Can he--"
"He can do all these things," Phineas Cross interrupted, "because
he speaks for us, our duly elected representative. Sit thee down,
Fenn. If you wanted the job, well, you haven't got it, and that's
all there is about it, and though you're as glib with your tongue
as any here, and though you've as many at your back, perchance, as
I have, I tell you I'd never have voted for you if there hadn't
been another man here. So put that in your pipe and smoke it,
lad."
"All further discussion," the Bishop ruled, "is out of order.
Julian Orden, do you accept this mission?"
Julian rose to his feet. He leaned heavily upon his stick. His
expression was strangely disturbed.
"Bishop," he said, "and you, my friends, this has all come very
suddenly. I do not agree with Mr. Fenn. I consider that I am one
with you. I think that for the last ten years I have seen the
place which Labour should hold in the political conduct of the
world. I have seen the danger of letting the voice of the people
remain unheard too long. Russia to-day is a practical and
terrible example of that danger. England is, in her way, a free
country, and our Government a good one, but in the world's history
there arrive sometimes crises with which no stereotyped form of
government can cope, when the one thing that is desired is the
plain, honest mandate of those who count for most in the world,
those who, in their simplicity and in their absence from all
political ties and precedents and liaisons, see the truth.
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