all roads lead to calvary-第42章

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Mrs。　Phillips　was　in　bed　when　Joan　went　up　to　say　good…bye。　〃You'll　come　again　soon？〃　she　asked；　and　Joan　promised。　　〃You've　made　me　so　happy；〃　she　whispered。　　The　nurse　was　in　the　room。

They　discussed　politics　in　the　train。　　Phillips　had　found　more　support　for　his　crusade　against　Carleton　than　he　had　expected。　　He　was　going　to　open　the　attack　at　once；　thus　forestalling　Carleton's　opposition　to　his　land　scheme。

〃It　isn't　going　to　be　the　Daily　This　and　the　Daily　That　and　the　Weekly　the　Other　all　combined　to　down　me。　　I'm　going　to　tell　the　people　that　it's　Carleton　and　only　CarletonCarleton　here；　Carleton　there；　Carleton　everywhere；　against　them。　　I'm　going　to　drag　him　out　into　the　open　and　make　him　put　up　his　own　fists。〃

Joan　undertook　to　sound　Greyson。　　She　was　sure　Greyson　would　support　him；　in　his　balanced；　gentlemanly　way；　that　could　nevertheless　be　quite　deadly。

They　grew　less　and　less　afraid　of　looking　at　one　another　as　they　felt　that　darkened　room　further　and　further　behind　them。

They　parted　at　Charing　Cross。　　Joan　would　write。　　They　agreed　it　would　be　better　to　choose　separate　days　for　their　visits　to　Folkestone。

She　ran　against　Madge　in　the　morning；　and　invited　herself　to　tea。　Her　father　had　returned　to　Liverpool；　and　her　own　rooms；　for　some　reason；　depressed　her。　　Flossie　was　there　with　young　Halliday。　They　were　both　off　the　next　morning　to　his　people's　place　in　Devonshire；　from　where　they　were　going　to　get　married；　and　had　come　to　say　good…bye。　　Flossie　put　Sam　in　the　passage　and　drew…to　the　door。

〃Have　you　seen　her？〃　she　asked。　　〃How　is　she？〃

〃Oh；　she's　changed　a　good　deal；〃　answered　Joan。　　〃But　I　think　she'll　get　over　it　all　right；　if　she's　careful。〃

〃I　shall　hope　for　the　best；〃　answered　Flossie。　　〃Poor　old　soul；　she's　had　a　good　time。　　Don't　send　me　a　present；　and　then　I　needn't　send　you　onewhen　your　time　comes。　　It's　a　silly　custom。　　Besides；　I've　nowhere　to　put　it。　　Shall　be　in　a　ship　for　the　next　six　months。　　Will　let　you　know　when　we're　back。〃

She　gave　Joan　a　hug　and　a　kiss；　and　was　gone。　　Joan　joined　Madge　in　the　kitchen；　where　she　was　toasting　buns。

〃I　suppose　she's　satisfied　herself　that　he's　brainy；〃　she　laughed。

〃Oh；　brains　aren't　everything；〃　answered　Madge。　　〃Some　of　the　worst　rotters　the　world　has　ever　been　cursed　with　have　been　brainy　enoughmen　and　women。　　We　make　too　much　fuss　about　brains；　just　as　once　upon　a　time　we　did　about　mere　brute　strength；　thinking　that　was　all　that　was　needed　to　make　a　man　great。　　Brain　is　only　muscle　translated　into　civilization。　　That's　not　going　to　save　us。〃

〃You've　been　thinking；〃　Joan　accused　her。　　〃What's　put　all　that　into　your　head？〃

Madge　laughed。　　〃Mixing　with　so　many　brainy　people；　perhaps；〃　she　suggested；　〃and　wondering　what's　become　of　their　souls。〃

〃Be　good；　sweet　child。　　And　let　who　can　be　clever；〃　Joan　quoted。　〃Would　that　be　your　text？〃

Madge　finished　buttering　her　buns。　　〃Kant；　wasn't　it；〃　she　answered；　〃who　marvelled　chiefly　at　two　things：　　the　starry　firmament　above　him　and　the　moral　law　within　him。　　And　they're　one　and　the　same；　if　he'd　only　thought　it　out。　　It's　rather　big　to　be　good。〃

They　carried　their　tea　into　the　sitting…room。

〃Do　you　really　think　she'll　get　over　it？〃　asked　Madge。　　〃Or　is　it　one　of　those　things　one　has　to　say？〃

〃I　think　she　could；〃　answered　Joan；　〃if　she　would　pull　herself　together。　　It's　her　lack　of　will…power　that's　the　trouble。〃

Madge　did　not　reply　immediately。　　She　was　watching　the　rooks　settling　down　for　the　night　in　the　elm　trees　just　beyond　the　window。　　There　seemed　to　be　much　need　of　coming　and　going；　of　much　cawing。

〃I　met　her　pretty　often　during　those　months　that　Helen　Lavery　was　running　her　round；〃　she　said　at　length。　　〃It　always　seemed　to　me　to　have　a　touch　of　the　heroic；　that　absurd　effort　she　was　making　to　'qualify'　herself；　so　that　she　might　be　of　use　to　him。　　I　can　see　her　doing　something　quite　big；　if　she　thought　it　would　help　him。〃

The　cawing　of　the　rooks　grew　fainter。　　One　by　one　they　folded　their　wings。

Neither　spoke　for　a　while。　　Later　on；　they　talked　about　the　coming　election。　　If　the　Party　got　back；　Phillips　would　go　to　the　Board　of　Trade。　　It　would　afford　him　a　better　platform　for　the　introduction　of　his　land　scheme。

〃What　do　you　gather　is　the　general　opinion？〃　Joan　asked。　　〃That　he　will　succeed？〃

〃The　general　opinion　seems　to　be　that　his　star　is　in　the　ascendant；〃　Madge　answered　with　a　smile；　〃that　all　things　are　working　together　for　his　good。　　It's　rather　a　useful　atmosphere　to　have　about　one；　that。　　It　breeds　friendship　and　support！〃

Joan　looked　at　her　watch。　　She　had　an　article　to　finish。　　Madge　stood　on　tiptoe　and　kissed　her。

〃Don't　think　me　unsympathetic；〃　she　said。　　〃No　one　will　rejoice　more　than　I　shall　if　God　sees　fit　to　call　you　to　good　work。　　But　I　can't　help　letting　fall　my　little　tear　of　fellowship　with　the　weeping。〃

〃And　mind　your　p's　and　q's；〃　she　added。　　〃You're　in　a　difficult　position。　　And　not　all　the　eyes　watching　you　are　friendly。〃

Joan　bore　the　germ　of　worry　in　her　breast　as　she　crossed　the　Gray's　Inn　Garden。　　It　was　a　hard　law；　that　of　the　world：　　knowing　only　winners　and　losers。　　Of　course；　the　woman　was　to　be　pitied。　　No　one　could　feel　more　sorry　for　her　than　Joan　herself。　　But　what　had　Madge　exactly　meant　by　those　words：　　that　she　could　〃see　her　doing　something　really　big；〃　if　she　thought　it　would　help　him？　　There　was　no　doubt　about　her　affection　for　him。　　It　was　almost　dog…like。　　And　the　child；　also！　　There　must　be　something　quite　exceptional　about　him　to　have　won　the　devotion　of　two　such　opposite　beings。　Especially　Hilda。　　It　would　be　hard　to　imagine　any　lengths　to　which　Hilda's　blind　idolatry　would　not　lead　her。

She　ran　down　twice　to　Folkestone　during　the　following　week。　　Her　visits　made　her　mind　easier。　　Mrs。　Phillips　seemed　so　placid；　so　contented。　　There　was　no　suggestion　of　suffering；　either　mental　or　physical。

She　dined　with　the　Greysons　the　Sunday　after；　and　mooted　the　question　of　the　coming　fight　with　Carleton。　　Greyson　thought　Phillips　would　find　plenty　of　journalistic　backing。　　The　concentration　of　the　Press　into　the　hands　of　a　few　conscienceless　schemers　was　threatening　to　reduce　the　journalist　to　a　mere　hireling；　and　the　better…class　men　were　becoming　seriously　alarmed。　He　found　in　his　desk　the　report　of　a　speech　made　by　a　well…known　leader　writer　at　a　recent　dinner　of　the　Press　Club。　　The　man　had　risen　to　respond　to　the　toast　of　his　own　health　and　had　taken　the　opportunity　to　unpack　his　heart。

〃I　am　paid　a　thousand　a　year；〃　so　Greyson　read　to　them；　〃for　keeping　my　own　opinions　out　of　my　paper。　　Some　of　you；　perhaps；　earn　more；　and　others　less；　but　you're　getting　it　for　writing　what　you're　told。　　If　I　were　to　be　so　foolish　as　to　express　my　honest　opinion；　I'd　be　on　the　street；　the　next　morning；　looking　for　another　job。〃

〃The　business　of　the　journalist；〃　the　man　had　continued；　〃is　to　destroy　the　truth；　to　lie；　to　pervert；　to　vilify；　to　fawn　at　the　feet　of　Mammon；　to　sell　his　soul　for　his　daily　bread。　　We　are　the　tools　and　vassals　of　rich　men　behind　the　scenes。　　We　are　the　jumping…jacks。　　They　pull　the　strings　and　we　dance。　　Our　talents；　our　possibilities；　our　lives　are　the　property　of　other　men。〃

〃We　tried　to　pretend　it　was　only　one　of　Jack's　little　jokes；〃　explained　Greyson　as　he　folded　up　the　cutting；　〃but　it　wouldn't　work。　　It　was　too　near　the　truth。〃

〃I　don't　see　what　you　are　going　to　do；〃　commented　Mary。　　〃So　long　as　men　are　not　afraid　to　sell　their　souls；　there　will　always　be　a　Devil's　market　for　them。〃

Greyson　did　not　so　much　mind　there　being　a　Devil's　market；　provided　he　could　be　assured　of　an　honest　market　alongside；　so　that　a　man　could　take　his　choice。　　What　he　feared　was　the　Devil's　steady　encroachment；　that　could　only　end　by　the　closing　of　the　independent　market　altogether。　　His　remedy　was　the　introduction　of　the　American　trust　law；　forbidding　any　one　man　being　interested　in　more　than　a　limited　number　of　journals。

〃But　what's　the　difference；〃　demanded　Joan；　〃between　a　man　owning　one　paper　with　a　circulation　of；　say；　six　millions；　or　owning　six　with　a　circulation　of　a　million　apiece？　　By　concentrating　all　his　energies　on　one；　a　man　with　Carleton's　organizing