“But I can’t make a speech. I’m not prepared. I’ve nothing to say.” He was pushed forward remorselessly. At the very base of the statue he turned. “I hope there are no reporters present,” he said in a tone of despair. “There probably are lots,” said Dr. O’Grady. “Get up now and begin. The people won’t stand here all day.” Lord Alfred Blakeney, still clasping the illuminated address in his arms, was hustled on to the lowest step of the pedestal. The people cheered encouragingly. “Oh damn this great picture,” said Lord Alfred. “Do hold it for me.” “Never mind it,” said Dr. O’Grady. “It’s all right as it is. Make your speech.” “Ladies and gentlemen,” said Lord Alfred, “I find myself standing here to-day——” “As representative of the Lord-Lieutenant,” said Dr. O’Grady, prompting him. “But I’m not. I tell you he’ll be angry. I can’t make this speech. I really can’t.” “You can if you like,” said Dr. O’Grady. “Go on.” “I stand here to-day,” said Lord Alfred, “at the unveiling of this beautiful statue——” “Hear, hear,” said Doyle from the door of the hotel. “It’s a grand statue surely.” “Go on,” said Dr. O’Grady. “You’re doing capitally. Say something about the grant from the Government for a new pier.” “About what?” said Lord Alfred. “About a grant for a new pier,” said Dr. O’Grady, speaking distinctly. “But I’ve no authority. I can’t.” “£500 will satisfy us,” said Dr. O’Grady. “It’s a mere trifle. After the shabby way the Lord-Lieutenant has behaved to us—but go on, anyway.” “I have much pleasure,” said Lord Alfred Blakeney, “in declaring this statue—er—open—er—for public inspection.” The crowd cheered loudly. Dr. O’Grady whispered to Lord Alfred that he ought to say something about the value of the statue as a work of art. But this time Lord Alfred’s will was stronger than the doctor’s. He jumped off the pedestal and flatly declined to mount it again. He was crimson in the face with mortification and embarrassment. Then, when the cheering subsided a little, Mr. Billing’s voice was heard, clear and incisive. He had pushed his way from the door of the hotel and was standing near the statue. “That’s a darned poor speech,” he said. It is extraordinary how close the primitive barbarian is to the most civilised man. No one could have been more carefully trained than Lord Alfred Blakeney. No one possessed more of that suave self-control which distinguishes a man of the governing classes from the members of the mob. Yet Lord Alfred collapsed suddenly under the strain to which he had been subjected. Mr. Billing’s taunt threw him back to an earlier, a very early stage of development. “Make a better one yourself, then,” he said, “whoever you are.” “I’ll make one that’ll create a sensation, anyhow,” said Mr. Billing. He stepped jauntily up the two steps of the pedestal. “Mr. Lord-Lieutenant, Right Reverend Sir, Ladies and Gentlemen,” he said. Lord Alfred Blakeney clutched Dr. O’Grady by the arm.