The Four White Days | Page 4

at the ends of it. The fine athletic figure of
John Hampden, M.P., raged up and down the office. Physical weakness
or suffering seemed to be strangers to him.
"I want you to rub it in thick," he shouted. "Make a picture of it in
to-morrow's Chat. It's exclusive information I am giving you. Properly
handled, there's enough coal in London to get over this crisis. If it isn't
properly handled, then some hundreds of families are going to perish of
cold and starvation. The State ought to have power to commandeer
these things in a crisis like this, and sell them at a fair price--give them
away if necessary. And now we have a handful of rich men who mean
to profit by a great public calamity. I mean Hayes and Rhys-Smith and
that lot. You've fallen foul of them before. I want you to call upon the
poorer classes not to stand this abominable outrage. I want to go down
to the House of Commons to-morrow afternoon with some thousands
of honest working-men behind me to demand that this crime shall be
stopped. No rioting, no violence, mind. The workman who buys his
coals by the hundredweight will be the worst off. If I have my way, he
won't suffer at all--he will just take what he wants."
Fisher's eves gleamed with the light of battle. He was warm now and

the liberal dose of brandy had done its work. Here was a good special
and a popular one to his hand. The calamity of the blizzard and the
snow and the frost was bad enough, but the calamity of a failing coal
supply would be hideous. Legally, there was no way of preventing
those City bandits from making the most of their booty. But if a few
thousand working-men in London made up their minds to have coal,
nothing could prevent them.
"I'll do my best," Fisher exclaimed. "I'll take my coat off to the
job--figuratively, of course. There ought to be an exciting afternoon
sitting of the House to-morrow. On the whole I'm glad that Gough
dragged me out."
The Chat was a little late to press, but seeing that anything like a
country edition was impossible, that made little difference Fisher and
Gough had made the most of their opportunity. The ears of Messrs.
Hayes Co. were likely to tingle over the Chat in the morning.
Fisher finished at length with a sigh of satisfaction. Huddled up in his
overcoat and scarf he descended to the street. The cold struck more
piercingly than ever. A belated policeman so starved as to be almost
bereft of his senses asked for brandy--anything to keep frozen body and
soul together. Gough, secure in his grotesque sheep skin, had already
disappeared down the street.
"Come in," Fisher gasped. "It's dreadful. I was going home, but upon
my word I dare not face it. I shall sleep by the side of my office fire
to-night."
The man in blue slowly thawed out. His teeth chattered, his face was
ghastly blue.
"An' I'll beg a shelter too, sir," he said. "I shall get kicked out of the
force. I shall lose my pension. But what's the good of a pension to an
officer what's picked up frozen in the Strand?"
"That's logic," Fisher said sleepily. "And as to burglars--"

"Burglars! A night like this! I wish that the streets of London were
always as safe. If I might be allowed to make up the fire, sir---"
But Fisher was already asleep ranged up close alongside the fender.

IV
The uneasy impression made by the Chat special was soon confirmed
next morning. No coal was available at the wharves under three
shillings per hundredweight. Some of the poorer classes bought at the
price, but the majority turned away, muttering of vengeance, and
deeply disappointed.
Whatever way they went the same story assailed them. The stereotyped
reply was given at King's Cross, Euston, St. Pancras and in the
Caledonian Road. The situation had suddenly grown dangerous and
critical. The sullen, grotesque stream flowed back westward with a
headway towards Trafalgar Square. A good many sheepskins were
worn, for Gough's idea had become popular.
In some mysterious way it got abroad that John Hampden was going to
address a mass meeting. By half past two Trafalgar Square and the
approaches thereto were packed.
It was a little later that Hampden appeared. There was very little
cheering or enthusiasm, for it was too cold. The crowd had no
disposition to riot, all they wanted was for the popular tribune to show
them some way of getting coal--their one great necessity--at a
reasonable price.
Hampden, too, was singularly quiet and restrained. There was none of
the wildness that usually accompanied his oratory. He counselled
quietness and prudence.