In the meantime, either by implied understanding or by the weak acquiescence of the rest of the committee, the Postal Secretary was quietly but diligently asserting his mastery over it. Mr. Spencer Walpole had a reputation as a man of brilliant parts, and being a descendant of that historic Walpole who so cruelly used the poor boy-poet Chatterton, and who is asserted to have laid it down as a dictum that “every man has his price,” it had come almost as a natural heritage to him to be regarded as a born cynic. A little of this inborn cynicism seemed to peep out when asking a witness who and what were his parents, adding with what was regarded as unnecessary sarcasm that the witness need not answer the question if he did not like to. The question was supposedly put for purposes of comparison, but it produced a rather sore feeling against the commissioner, and in no way tended to alleviate the growing conviction as to his unsympathetic attitude. They knew that Mr. Spencer Walpole was an important factor to be reckoned with, but they did not realise as yet that he was virtually the committee. It did not become marked for the first day or two. Each member of the committee was allowed to put a fair number of questions to witnesses, but gradually Mr. Spencer Walpole’s personality spread itself over the entire gathering, and it became an acknowledged fact that it was the Post-Office administration personified in him that was sitting in judgment on itself and moulding the inevitable verdict. The Permanent Secretary, backed up by his silent but industrious force of officials preparing the ammunition that he was to fire off, took the lead with almost every witness. If it was thought he was partial, it had to be acknowledged he was clever; if he was merciless, he was also artistic to an extent, especially when he forgot his cynicism. The manner of his smartness, his alertness, and directness in choosing the leading question and putting it at every opportunity would have done credit to an Old Bailey lawyer. It seemed to gradually dawn on two or three of the committee that there was little left for them to do, so they accordingly subsided, only to pop up occasionally as if for the sake of appearance. Sir A. Godley from an early stage of the proceedings was either so thoroughly bored with the whole business, or so thoroughly convinced that the verdict could be come to without his active assistance, that he unblushingly dropped off to sleep, commonly for half-an-hour at a stretch. The only commissioner who inspired energy into the proceedings was the most interested party of all, the Permanent Secretary of the Post-Office, whose administration it was that had come up for judgment. Not even the occasional laugh, always in such deliberations eagerly snatched at as a welcome break in the oppressive decorum, could deprive the occasion of that air of unreality and insincerity that seemed to pervade it.