Half a Hero | Page 5

considerable distance, people in a thick mass, surging up against the gate and hardly held back by a cordon of police.
"Whatever can be the matter?" exclaimed Eleanor.
"I am the matter," said Medland. "They have heard about it."
When the crowd saw him, cheer after cheer rang out, caps and handkerchiefs were waved, and even flags made a sudden appearance. Moving a pace in advance of his companions, he lifted his hat, and the enthusiastic cries burst forth with renewed vigour. He signed to them to be still, but they did not heed him. Alicia caught hold of Eleanor's hand, her breath coming and going in sudden gasps. Eleanor looked at Medland. He was moistening his lips, and she saw a little quiver run through his limbs.
"By Jove!" said Dick Derosne.
Medland turned to Eleanor, and pointed to the crowd.
"Yes, I see," she said.
He held out his hand to bid them farewell, and walked on towards the gate. They stood and watched his progress. Suddenly a different cry rose.
"Let her pass! Let her pass! Let her through to him!"
The crowd slowly parted, and down the middle of the road, amid the raising of hats and pretty rough compliments, a young girl came walking swiftly and proudly, with a smile on her lips.
"It's his daughter," whispered Alicia. "Oh!"
Medland opened the gate and went out. The girl, her fair hair blowing out behind her and her cheeks glowing red, ran to meet him, and, as he stooped and kissed her, the crowd, having, as a crowd, but one way to tell its feelings, roared and cheered again. Medland, with one hand on his daughter's shoulder and the other holding his hat, walked down the lane between human walls, and was lost to sight as the walls found motion and closed in behind him.
After some moments' silence Dick Derosne recovered himself, and remarked with a cynical air,
"Neat bit of acting--kissing the girl and all that."
But Alicia would not have it. With a tremulous laugh, she said,
"I should like to have kissed him too. Oh, Eleanor, I didn't know it was like that!"
Perhaps Eleanor did not either, but she would not admit it. What was it but a lot of ignorant people cheering they knew not what? If anything, it was degrading. Yet, in spite of these most reasonable reflections, she knew that her cheeks had flushed and her heart beat at the sight and the sound.
They were still standing and watching the crowd as it retreated towards Kirton, when the Governor, who had come out to get some fresh air after his arduous labour, joined them.
"Extraordinary the popularity of the man in Kirton," he observed, in answer to Alicia's eager description of Mr. Medland's triumph.
"What has he done for them?" asked Eleanor.
"Done? Oh, I don't know. He's done something, I suppose; but it's what he's going to do that they're so keen about."
"Is he a Socialist?" inquired Alicia.
"I can't tell you," replied Lord Eynesford. "I don't know what he is--and I'm not sure I know what a Socialist is. Ask Eleanor."
"A Socialist," began Eleanor, in an authoritative tone, "is----"
But this much-desired definition was unhappily lost, for a footman came up and told Lord Eynesford that his wife would like to see him if he were disengaged.
The Governor smiled grimly, winked imperceptibly, and departed.
"It's been quite an entertaining day," said Miss Scaife. "But I'm very sorry for Sir Robert."
"What was Mr. Medland talking to you about, Dick?" asked Alicia.
"Oh, a new sort of drink. You take a long glass, and some pounded ice and some gin--only you must be careful to get----"
"I don't want to hear about it."
"Well, you asked, you know," retorted Dick, with the air of a man who suffers under the perpetual illogicality of woman.
CHAPTER III.
HOSPITALITY EX OFFICIO.
"I confess to being very much alarmed," said Mr. Kilshaw, "and I think Capital generally shares the feeling."
"If I thought he could last, I should share it myself," said Sir Robert Perry.
"He may easily last long enough to half ruin my business. Large concerns are delicate concerns."
"Come, Kilshaw, Puttock's a capitalist; he'll see Capital isn't wronged."
"Puttock is all very well in his way; but what do you say to Jewell and Norburn?"
"Jewell's an old-style Radical: he won't do you much harm. You hit the nail on the head when you mention Norburn. Norburn would be very pleased to run your factory as a State work-shop for two pound a week."
"And pickings," added Mr. Kilshaw, with scornful emphasis.
A third gentleman, who was sitting near in the large bow-window of the Central Club, an elderly man, with short-clipped white hair and a pleasant face, joined in the talk.
"Norburn? Why, is that the fellow I tried? Is he in Medland's government?"
"That's the man, Sir John," answered Kilshaw; and Sir Robert added,
"You gave him three months for inciting to riot in