CHAPTER XIIA NIGHT ALARM
“A crown for your thoughts, Professor!” said General Mainwarren to Professor Dean, as the latter sat thoughtfully watching the dancers.
The Professor aroused himself with a slight start.
“Oh, I was allowing my thoughts to drift idly in many currents,” he answered.
“For instance, if it is not impertinent to inquire?”
“Well, I was marveling at the beauty, the luxury and the splendor of all this, and thinking what it must cost to keep up. The thought occurred to me that the cost of this one ball”—and the Professor shot a sharp glance at General Mainwarren—“would probably be sufficient to keep warm all the poor people in your district who are likely to suffer, according to what you told us, for coal this Winter, in addition to supplying every poor child with a Christmas box.”
“A Christmas box!” exclaimed General Mainwarren. “What a quaint reminiscence wafted to us from the past!”
“How do you mean—‘a quaint reminiscence’?”
“Why, my dear Professor, Christmas boxes are with us as much a thing of the past as the curfew bell, knights in armor, or any of the other customs of mediæval times.”
“How came this kindly practice to be abolished?” asked the Professor blankly.
“Kindly!” repeated General Mainwarren. “I can’t agree with you. The custom was discontinued long ago by the wealthier classes and the rest of the people gradually followed. It was one of the few good acts which the rich have done for the poor; one of the many features in which our social organization of to-day excels yours.”
“But what leads you to this view?”
“Why,” explained General Mainwarren, “your giving of Christmas presents was nothing less than the refinement of cruelty upon a colossal scale. Think of the tens of thousands of heart yearnings and of heart aches which must have been caused in your day owing to this custom. It was all very nice for the well-to-do, but think of the tens of thousands who felt forced to give what they couldn’t afford; of those who wished to give but could not; of those—especially little children—who hoped to receive and were disappointed. Think of the destitute father looking upon his children as they wistfully watched the toys and presents received by more fortunate playfellows. What were the feelings in that parent’s heart, what the feelings of the child’s? Ah! your Christmas was a cruel time and your custom a cruel one.”
“Viewed in that light,” answered Professor Dean gravely, “I will admit there are grounds for your criticism. You say there are other features of improvement. Tell me of them. I’m interested.”
“The subject is rather too extensive to go into at the present time,” answered General Mainwarren, “but I’ll mention one or two instances which happen to come to my mind at the moment. Take our newspapers, for example. We don’t allow our newspapers to promote national blindness as in your day. The smallest size of type which may be used, as alsonumerous other details as to the printing of a newspaper, are carefully regulated by law in the interests of the public eyesight.”
“Not at all a bad idea!” commented the Professor.
“Then, again, take our attitude toward drunkenness. We have recognized that what drove men to frenzy in drink and largely promoted drunkenness was not so much the liquor itself as the adulterations in the liquor. Our methods of inspection of all liquors publicly sold, as also of the public food supply, are very elaborate, and our laws on the subject of adulteration are extremely stringent. In this respect, I am glad to say, our people are immeasurably better off than were the people of your day.”
“You speak in a kindly way of the people and seem to have their welfare at heart,” ventured the Professor. “This being so, I am astonished that you don’t reverse your policy.”
“My policy——?”
“As to the restriction of the coal supply.”
General Mainwarren started slightly.
“I must ask you to excuse me from discussing that,” he answered, somewhat stiffly.
“Very well,” said the Professor, slightly nettled, “but there is one other point upon which I think I have a right to receive your answer. It is this: Under Colonel Cuming’s roof, you will remember, you somewhat bitterly arraigned the men of my day.”
“Yes; I remember perfectly,” replied General Mainwarren. “Conceding that the mass of people have certain rights, I claimed that the responsibility for present conditions lies with the people of your day, because they did not check the tendency of events in their incipiency. Of course,” he added cautiously, “I haven’t accepted as correct your views as to these rights. It was purely an academic discussionand I conceded your point simply for the sake of argument.”
“I understand the point you make,” rejoined the Professor. “I was taken somewhat unawares at the time, but the matter has been rankling in my mind since. May I ask what were the methods which you later critics think we might have adopted to this end?”
“My dear Professor,” protested General Mainwarren, “that’s a subject which to treat fully would call for most extended discussion. Suffice it to say, that in those days the people had the free exercise of the ballot and with their votes they could have done pretty well what they pleased.”
“Ah, you really think so!” exclaimed the Professor with some sarcasm. “You forget our great political machines, and that they practically controlled affairs; substantially, even if covertly, directing the so-called will of the people!”
“I’m fully aware of that,” answered General Mainwarren, “but the man who stands idly beneath a tree, with open mouth, awaiting the fruit to drop, is apt to go away disappointed. What was needed was a slow, steady, methodical education of the people, which would have placed them upon a higher plane. With eyes fully opened to the situation, they would have been superior to the two great political machines. There seems to have been no steady, earnest, well-directed effort to accomplish this—no one to undertake it!”
“How might this have been done?” questioned the Professor.
“Oh, in various ways.”
“Tell me one?”
“Since you insist, my dear Professor,” answered the General, “I’ll point out one way which has beensuggested and which I had the pleasure of discussing some time ago with one of our most eminent sociologists, Doctor Arthur Melbourne.”
“I’m all interest!” exclaimed the Professor. “That way was?”
“You have intimated,” continued General Mainwarren, “that the political machines held the voters so securely that the power of these professional politicians could not be overthrown by any opposition which was started against them. You have not said, but I know it, that such desultory opposition as was tried from time to time always met with discouragement and defeat. Nor have you pointed out that the leaders who controlled these two great political machines were themselves controlled by the moneyed powers of the land, who stood in the background and pulled the strings which moved the puppets. This—all this—is well realized and understood by the student of to-day.”
“Let us concede these facts,” rejoined the Professor; “but what then?”
“It has been suggested,” continued General Mainwarren, “that a wise course for patriotic leaders of your day would have been to have abandoned the hope of converting and securing the grown voters as a body. It would have been best for them, at a given time, to have said: ‘Beginning from to-day, we will pay no attention to any male who is more than fifteen years of age and who is now, or within the next six years will be, entitled to a vote. But we will direct all efforts to an entirely new body of suffragists.’ They should then have turned their attention to thewomen of the land, to the mothers of future generations of voters. It has been said that ‘Every woman is at heart a royalist!’ It could with equal truth be said, ‘Every woman is by nature a politician.’It is true that women, as a body, appear to devote little interest to politics, but this is because few women have been given opportunity of acquiring any knowledge on the subject, or of taking active part in such matters. But whenever woman has had such opportunity, she has shown herself to be an ardent politician. Look at the influence exerted politically by various women of whom history speaks. Take it even in your own day. Whenever there happened to be some movement—say a moral reform movement—in which the women of the country took an active interest, as they did now and again, did it not invariably happen that that movement was successful at the polls?”
The Professor reflected a moment.
“Yes,” he answered; “the facts show that you are correct as to this.”
“There, then,” continued General Mainwarren, “lay the hope and the chance of your patriotic leaders. They should have started missionary work upon a comprehensive scale among the women of the land. They should have educated womankind politically—have indicated to woman where and why the shoe pinched and what was the remedy. She should have been shown that the remedy lay in the generations of voters to come and that those generations were directly under her influence and in her keeping.”
“I begin to see your drift,” said the Professor thoughtfully.
“Meetings should have been held for the instruction of women; political clubs maintained; and literature circulated for them which was sufficiently light, clear and instructive. ‘Do you want your sons to struggle on under the same blighting, toilsome conditions as their fathers struggled?’ should have beenthe watchword, and it would have been a watchword to which the maternal heart would eagerly have responded. The women would have educated their children—not merely the boys but also the girls who were to become the wives of future voters—and within a very few years you would have had a new generation of voters sufficiently powerful and sufficiently well-instructed to have bid the old political machines open and successful defiance. With the women of the land lay one of your great chances, but that chance you utterly neglected.”
The Professor was about to reply when the voice of Kearns, who had been in conversation with Colonel Cuming, broke in upon them:
“Excuse me, Professor,” he exclaimed, “but I see their Majesties have long since retired and the ball-room is beginning to thin out somewhat. Isn’t it time we went? No doubt all this life and go and all these beautiful ladies are very interesting to you—in spite of your hundred years—but you must remember that I have work before me to-morrow. I’m no longer a gentleman of leisure, you know.”
Before the Professor could reply, Colonel Cuming again addressed Kearns, directing his attention to some personage in the ball-room, and the Professor turned to General Mainwarren.
“No longer a gentleman of leisure,” he said, rather sadly; “that, too, was one of the subjects in my mind. I was thinking what I should turn to—what place I could find, if any—in this new world into which I have tumbled. Our friend, Kearns, has been fortunate in finding his old-time cunning in demand, even at the hands of kings. But I wonder if I can in these days profitably resume my former researches and work. Would there be any demandfor the various inventions I have in mind—my air-ship, for instance?”
General Mainwarren started perceptibly.
“Professor Dean,” he said gravely, “I have had a high regard for you from the moment of our first meeting. In fact, long before that your name was known to me and your attainments in the domain of science held my respect. Ah, Professor, you have probably done for the world more than you know!”
“Come, come, General!” exclaimed the Professor, “this is sheer flattery. You are amusing yourself at my expense, I fear. I hardly expected this of you.”
“I speak only the truth!” said the General solemnly.
“We will let that pass,” replied the Professor somewhat testily. “You have not yet answered my question. Do you think the invention I have mentioned would find any market in these days?”
“I was coming to that point,” answered General Mainwarren. “I see no reason why your—your—invention when completed should not yield beneficial results.”
“Completed!” replied the Professor, “as far as that is concerned, it is substantially completed.”
“Perfected!” exclaimed General Mainwarren, with an air of astonishment.
“Yes,” replied the Professor.
“You could in—in—a comparatively short time,” resumed General Mainwarren, “turn out a practical air-ship! Do you mean this?”
“Absolutely,” replied the Professor confidently.
General Mainwarren reflected for some moments.
“Professor Dean,” he said presently, “I’ll make you a proposition. Under these new conditions you need someone to guide your efforts and to properlymarket the product of your brain. I invite you to come with me to Pennsylvania, and pursue your researches and your work. It will be a mutual enterprise. As for the terms, there will be no difference between us as to that; they shall be of your own making.”
“You mean this?” exclaimed the Professor in astonishment.
“Positively,” answered General Mainwarren firmly; “I make you this as an offer. You are to pursue your researches and your work at your leisure and I am to supply such funds, or other promotive assistance, as may be needed. The benefits accruing we’ll share jointly, upon such terms as you yourself shall dictate. It’s a simple business proposition. Do you accept?”
“The conditions are certainly most liberal!” exclaimed the Professor. “I——”
“Why, then, do you hesitate?”
“May I ask when this offer is to go into effect?”
“Immediately.”
“Ah,” exclaimed the Professor deprecatingly, “I don’t want to leave my friend Kearns so suddenly. I must ask for some time in which to reach a decision.”
“By all means,” answered General Mainwarren, “but I ask it as a condition that you will not enter into any negotiation or discussion on this subject with outsiders until you have given me an answer. In a word, you are to treat this proposition as entirely confidential between us. Have I your word for this?”
The words had scarcely left General Mainwarren’s lips and before the Professor could make reply, there came from the grounds outside the palace the sharp blast of a bugle, hoarse shouts of command and the sounds of moving men. In an instant the scene inthe ball-room changed from one of gayety and frivolity to earnestness, joined to some confusion. Military officers quitted their partners and hurried forth, while the beautifully gowned women looked into one another’s faces with questioning glances. The diplomats gathered in little groups, exchanging whispers. A current of unrest, of uneasiness, had suddenly swept over the brilliant scene—a general presentiment that something momentous had happened.
Again the bugles pealed forth, with a roll of drums in the distance. Still the guests sat, or stood, looking askance into one another’s faces. The music stopped.
Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown. It seemed as if the familiar words might be paraphrased: “Uneasy are those who live within the shadow of a throne.”
A messenger entered the ball-room and, glancing about him, made his way to where Kearns sat. There was agitation in his manner and his words came sharp and terse:
“You are commanded, sir, to repair at once to His Majesty’s chamber.”