The Kings Men | Page 6

nothing wrong. You should
see his face, papa."
"Oh, yes; those dreamers--"
"Papa!" said Mary, almost angrily, "Mr. Dacre is not a dreamer. He is a
leader of men--a natural leader--like you!"
The eloquence of voice and gesture surprised Richard Lincoln; but he
was too puzzled by Mary's manner to reply. Looking at her as if from a
distance, he only remembered, sadly, how little of her life he had
seen--how much there was from which he had been left out in the heart
of his motherless girl.
Mary read something in his eyes that made her run to him and fold her
arms around his neck.
"You were thinking of mamma then," she whispered, with brimming
eyes.
"Your face was like hers, Mary," he said, and kissed her tenderly.
In the growing excitement of the times, father and daughter were
growing daily into closer union. The Parliamentary elections were
coming on, and Richard Lincoln took a deep interest in the preparations.
He had been asked to stand for several places, but he had firmly
declined; nevertheless he had become almost a public character during
the campaign. From all sides men looked to him for counsel. His
correspondence became burdensome, and Mary, having urged him long
to let her help, at last had her way.
In this way it was that she became familiar with the troubled issues of
the time, and learned to think with her father in all his moods. Their
house in Nottingham, with comings and goings, committees and
councils, was soon like the office of a great Minister.

"This can't last," said Mr. Patterson to Mary Lincoln, one day; "he is
needed in London again, and he will go. I believe they mean to
nominate him for President."
Two days later, Patterson, with all the rest of England, was allowed to
see the secret that had moved the political sea for years.
The National Convention was held to nominate the President. The
Radical wing (they were proud to call themselves anarchists) had
developed unlooked-for strength, chiefly from the cities and great
towns, and had put forward as their candidate the blatant demagogue,
Lemuel Bagshaw, whose name has left so deep a stain on his country's
record.
On the first day of the National Convention the news of Bagshaw's
strength caused only a pained surprise throughout England. Men
awaited with some irritation the proper work of the Convention. But on
the second day, when the two strongest opposing candidates did not
together count as many votes as the demagogue, there was downright
consternation.
Then the Aristocrats showed their hand: they abandoned their sham
candidate and voted solidly for the demagogue--and Lemuel Bagshaw,
the atheist and anarchist, received the nomination for the Presidency of
the British Republic!
The ship was fairly among the shoals and the horizon was ridged with
ominous clouds. The petrels of disorder were everywhere on the wing.
The Republic was driving straight into the breakers.
A few days later a great meeting was held in Nottingham, at which a
workingman proposed the name of Richard Lincoln as their
representative in Parliament.
A great shout of acclamation greeted the name and spoke for all
Nottingham. Then the meeting broke up, the crowd hurrying and
pressing toward Richard Lincoln's house.

Mary Lincoln heard the growing tumult, and looked up at her father
alarmed. She had been playing softly on an organ in the dimly-lighted
room, while her father sat thinking and half listening to the low music,
as he gazed into the fire.
He had heard the crowd gathering in the square below, but he had not
heeded, till he started at last as a voice outside addressed the multitude,
calling for three cheers for the Member of Parliament for Nottingham.
The response, ringing from thousands of hearts, made Mary Lincoln
leap to her feet.
Her father sat still, looking toward the open window beneath which was
the tumult.
"Father," said Mary, calling him so for the first time in her life; "they
have nominated you. You will not refuse?"
"No," he said, almost mournfully. "I shall accept--and leave you again."
"Never again," she cried, "my own dear father. I shall go with you to
London. Oh, I am so proud of you!"
And Richard Lincoln accepted the nomination, and was elected. His
name rallied throughout the whole country the men who had its good at
heart.
But the demagogue was raised to the highest place in the Republic, and
his party would have grown drunken with exultation had they not been
deterred by the solid front and the stern character of the opposition, the
leader of which from the first meeting of the new Parliament was
Richard Lincoln.
CHAPTER III.
MY LADY'S CHAMBER.
The seashore in late November is never cheerful. The gray, downcast
skies sadden the