I will willingly be a disciple of the cause.
But this morning let me be your ambassador. Let me go to the
Premier with a message from you. Let me tell him what you have
resolved."
"Hands up all in favour!" Cross exclaimed.
Every hand was raised. Bright came back from the couch, blinking
underneath his heavy spectacles but meekly acquiescent.
"Let us remember this hour," the Bishop begged, "as something
solemn in our lives. The Council of Labour shall justify itself,
shall voice the will or the people, fighting for victory."
"For the Peace which comes through Victory!" Julian echoed.
CHAPTER XXII
The Bishop and Catherine, a few weeks later, walked side by side
up the murky length of St. Pancras platform. The train which they
had come to meet was a quarter of an hour late, and they had
fallen into a sort of reminiscent conversation which was not
without interest to both of them.
"I left Mr. Stenson only an hour ago," the Bishop observed. "He
could talk about nothing but Julian Orden and his wonderful
speeches. They say that at Sheffield and Newcastle the enthusiasm
was tremendous, and at three shipbuilding yards on the Clyde the
actual work done for the week after his visit was nearly as much
again. He seems to have that extraordinary gift of talking
straight to the hearts of the men. He makes them feel."
"Mr. Stenson wrote me about it," Catherine told her companion,
with a little smile. "He said that no dignity that could be
thought of or invented would be an adequate offering to Julian for
his services to the country.
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