The Man Who Rose Again Part 30

After all, to be a man was n.o.bler than to be a beast. He recalled her words on the night he had made known his love to her. She had told him that the man who trusted in a woman for his salvation rested on a weak reed, and that only G.o.d could save a man. He remembered his answer too.

"If there is a G.o.d, I have given Him His chance," he cried, "and He has failed me. Now I choose this yellow devil. A fascinating devil, too. See how light and sparkling he is!"

He held the gla.s.s up to the light, and watched while the bright gaseous globules floated from the bottom of the gla.s.s to the top.

"Good-bye to false sentiment and false ideals, to false hopes and foolish fancies!" he cried, "and hereby I do take thee to be my lawful wedded wife from this day forward, to have and to hold, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, to love and to cherish, till death us do part!"

He laughed as he uttered the words.

"All joy to you Radford Leicester, on your wedding-day," he said aloud, "and may you and your wife be faithful to each other."

And still he hesitated. It might seem as though an invisible angel of goodness held his hand. Then his thoughts flew to the past, and again to the future. What had the future for him? He lifted the gla.s.s to his lips, and drank; when he set it down it was nearly empty.

"Ah, but this is the great forgetter," he said.

He sat down in an armchair, and closed his eyes. In a few minutes the strong spirit began to have its effect on him. The fire crept along his veins, he felt his nerves tingling.

"It's because I've not touched it for so long," he said. "A few months ago I should not have known I had tasted a drop like this."

He drained the gla.s.s to the bottom, and poured out more. For two hours he remained there, drinking, and brooding, and trying to forget.

Presently he arose, and went down to the smoking-room. He walked steadily, but he never remembered whisky to affect him as it was affecting him now. He wanted companionship; the whisky had destroyed all desire for privacy. On entering the room, he saw that the men who had gathered there were greatly excited. He had expected that some one would pretend to commiserate with him on the postponement of his marriage, but to his surprise no one seemed to heed him.

"Ah, MacGregor," he said, to a young Scotchman, whom he knew slightly, "the devil hasn't claimed you yet, then. But trust a Scotchman to outwit even the devil."

"Leicester, is that you?" said the Scotchman. "I heard you were off for your honeymoon; but I suppose even happy bridegrooms have to submit to General Elections."

"General Elections--what do you mean?"

"What do I mean? Don't you know?"

"Know what?"

The Scotchman laughed.

"Why, where have you been during the day?"

"I've been busy in my room," he replied warily.

"But haven't you heard?"

"I've heard nothing."

"What, not that there has been a dissolution of Parliament?"

"What?"

"Just that. We'll all have to hurry off to our const.i.tuencies now--that is, those of us who have been fools enough to meddle with politics. I'm off in two hours."

"Well, you will be all right. You'll get returned again, I suppose?"

"Yes, thanks to my wife, I believe I shall. She's far more popular in the const.i.tuency than I, and people will vote for me for her sake. I suppose you'll be off to Taviton to-night?"

"Not I."

"But, man, it'll be----"

"It's not worth the candle," said Leicester; "what's the odds which party is in? Liberal or Conservative, it's only a question of which set of maggots shall eat the cheese." The words which MacGregor had spoken about his wife had stung him.

"But that's all nonsense. It's true you've lately got married, but you must go down and fight. It'll be all beer and skittles with you. A good speaker like you, and just married to a charming and rich wife, can do anything. An electioneering honeymoon! My word, that will be a new thing in wedded life. Quite a subject for a romance. By the way, I have not congratulated you. How is Mrs. Leicester?"

He turned on his heel and walked away.

"Hullo, Leicester," said another man, "here you are. By the way, what is the truth about that paragraph I saw in the papers?"

"Oh, it's all right."

"Is--is Miss Castlemaine seriously ill?"

"I don't know, and I don't care."

"You don't mean to say that----"

"I mean to say that I'll have a drink with you, Bryant," he said.

"But you've turned teetotaler."

"Then I'll break my pledge. What'll you take?"

"But, I say, Leicester----"

"Will you have a drink?"

"With pleasure, only I thought that----"

"I was a reformed rake, eh? Well, I'm not. Whiskies for two, waiter. I say, tell us about this dissolution. What do you think about it?"

"I think our side will have a stiff fight. Besides, you know what has to be our chief card?"

"I know nothing, I've been busy with--other things."

Bryant laughed.

"What _is_ the meaning of this postponement of your marriage, Leicester?

Did you know the Government was going to smash up?"

"Why, you know we've been expecting it every day." He despised himself for using this subterfuge, but he could think of nothing better to say.

"What is to be our chief card, Bryant?"