paper is out of my reach — she will never let that get out of her hands. And what a mountain it is! It blocks up my road, completely. She was going to hand it to me, once. Why didn’t she! Must be a deep woman. Deep devil! That is what she is; a beautiful devil — and perfectly fearless, too. The idea of her pinning that paper on a man and standing him up in the rotunda looks absurd at a first glance. But she would do it! She is capable of doing anything. I went there hoping she would try to bribe me — good solid capital that would be in the exposure. Well, my prayer was answered; she did try to bribe me; and I made the best of a bad bargain and let her. I am checkmated. I must contrive something fresh to get back to Congress on. Very well; a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush; I will work for the bill — the incorporatorship will be a very good thing.”
As soon as Mr. Trollop had taken his leave, Laura ran to Senator Dilworthy and began to speak, but he interrupted her and said distressfully, without even turning from his writing to look at her:
“Only half an hour! You gave it up early, child. However, it was best, it was best — I’m sure it was best — and safest.”
“Give it up! I!”
The Senator sprang up, all aglow:
“My child, you can’t mean that you — ”
“I’ve made him promise on honor to think about a compromise tonight and come and tell me his decision in the morning.”
“Good! There’s hope yet that — ”
“Nonsense, uncle. I’ve made him engage to let the Tennessee Land bill utterly alone!”
“Impossible! You — ”
“I’ve made him promise to vote with us!”
“INCREDIBLE! Abso — ”
“I’ve made him swear that he’ll work for us!”
“PRE — - — POSTEROUS! — Utterly pre — break a window, child, before I suffocate!”
“No matter, it’s true anyway. Now we can march into Congress with drums beating and colors flying!”
“Well — well — well. I’m sadly bewildered, sadly bewildered. I can’t understand it at all — the most extraordinary woman that ever — it’s a great day, it’s a great day. There — there — let me put my hand in benediction on this precious head. Ah, my child, the poor negro will bless — ”
“Oh bother the poor negro, uncle! Put it in your speech. Goodnight, goodbye — we’ll marshal our forces and march with the dawn!”
Laura reflected a while, when she was alone, and then fell to laughing, peacefully.
“Everybody works for me,” — so ran her thought. “It was a good idea to make Buckstone lead Mr. Trollop on to get a great speech written for him; and it was a happy part of the same idea for me to copy the speech after Mr. Buckstone had written it, and then keep back a page. Mr. B. was very complimentary to me when Trollop’s breakdown in the House showed him the object of my mysterious scheme; I think he will say still finer things when I tell him the triumph the sequel to it has gained for us.
“But what a coward the man was, to believe I would have exposed that page in the rotunda, and so exposed myself. However, I don’t know — I don’t know. I will think a moment. Suppose he voted no; suppose the bill failed; that is to suppose this stupendous game lost forever, that I have played so desperately for; suppose people came around pitying me — odious! And he could have saved me by his single voice. Yes, I would have exposed him! What would I care for the talk that that would have made about me when I was gone to Europe with Selby and all the world was busy with my history and my dishonor? It would be almost happiness to spite somebody at such a time.”
CHAPTER XLIII.
The very next day, sure enough, the campaign opened. In due course, the Speaker of the House reached that Order of Business which is termed “Notices of Bills,” and then the Hon. Mr. Buckstone rose in his place and gave notice of a bill “To Found and Incorporate the Knobs Industrial University,” and then sat down without saying anything further. The busy gentlemen in the reporters’ gallery jotted a line in their notebooks, ran to the telegraphic desk in a room which communicated with their own writing-parlor, and then hurried back to their places in the gallery; and by the time they had resumed their seats, the line which they had delivered to the operator had been read in telegraphic offices in towns and cities hundreds of miles away. It was distinguished by frankness of language as well as by brevity:
“The child is born. Buckstone gives notice of the thieving Knobs University job. It is said the noses have been counted and enough votes have been bought to pass it.”
For some time the correspondents had been posting their several journals upon the alleged disreputable nature of the bill, and furnishing daily reports of the Washington gossip concerning it. So the next morning, nearly every newspaper of character in the land assailed the measure and hurled broadsides of invective at Mr. Buckstone. The Washington papers were more respectful, as usual — and conciliatory, also, as usual. They generally supported measures, when it was possible; but when they could not they “deprecated” violent expressions of opinion in other journalistic quarters.
They always deprecated, when there was trouble ahead. However, ‘The Washington Daily Love-Feast’ hailed the bill with warm approbation. This was Senator Balaam’s paper — or rather, “Brother” Balaam, as he was popularly called, for he had been a clergyman, in his day; and he himself and all that he did still emitted an odor of sanctity now that he had diverged into journalism and politics. He was a power in the Congressional prayer meeting, and in all movements that looked to the spread of religion and temperance.
His paper supported the new bill with gushing affection; it was a noble measure; it was a just measure; it was a generous measure; it was a pure measure, and that surely should recommend it in these corrupt times; and finally, if the nature of the bill were not known at all, the ‘Love Feast’ would support it anyway, and unhesitatingly, for the fact that Senator Dilworthy was the originator of the measure was a guaranty that it contemplated a worthy and righteous work.
Senator Dilworthy was so anxious to know what the New York papers would say about the bill, that he had arranged to have synopses of their editorials telegraphed to him; he could not wait for the papers themselves to crawl along down to Washington by a mail train which has never run over a cow since the road was built; for the reason that it has never been able to overtake one. It carries the usual “cow-catcher” in front of the locomotive, but this is mere ostentation. It ought to be attached to the rear car, where it could do some good; but instead, no provision is made there for the protection of the traveling public, and hence it is not a matter of surprise that cows so frequently climb aboard that train and among the passengers.
The Senator read his dispatches aloud at the breakfast table. Laura was troubled beyond measure at their tone, and said that that sort of comment would defeat the bill; but the Senator said:
“Oh, not at all, not at all, my child. It is just what we want. Persecution is the one thing needful, now — all the other forces are secured. Give us newspaper persecution enough, and we are
