'I was saying,' said Psmith, 'that the _Clarion_ will probably make a most interesting comparison between these speeches and those you have been making at Kenningford.' 'I--I--I forbid you to make any mention of these speeches.' Psmith hesitated. 'It would be great fun seeing what the papers said,' he protested. 'Great fun!' 'It is true,' mused Psmith, 'that in a measure, it would dish you at the election. From what I saw of those light-hearted lads at Kenningford the other night, I should say they would be so amused that they would only just have enough strength left to stagger to the poll and vote for your opponent.' Mr Bickersdyke broke out into a cold perspiration. 'I forbid you to send those speeches to the papers,' he cried. Psmith reflected. 'You see,' he said at last, 'it is like this. The departure of Comrade Jackson, my confidential secretary and adviser, is certain to plunge me into a state of the deepest gloom. The only way I can see at present by which I can ensure even a momentary lightening of the inky cloud is the sending of these speeches to some bright paper like the _Clarion._ I feel certain that their comments would wring, at any rate, a sad, sweet smile from me. Possibly even a hearty laugh. I must, therefore, look on these very able speeches of yours in something of the light of an antidote. They will stand between me and black depression. Without them I am in the cart. With them I may possibly buoy myself up.' Mr Bickersdyke shifted uneasily on his sofa. He glared at the floor. Then he eyed the ceiling as if it were a personal enemy of his. Finally he looked at Psmith. Psmith's eyes were closed in peaceful meditation. 'Very well,' said he at last. 'Jackson shall stop.' Psmith came out of his thoughts with a start. 'You were observing--?' he said. 'I shall not dismiss Jackson,' said Mr Bickersdyke. Psmith smiled winningly. 'Just as I had hoped,' he said. 'Your very justifiable anger melts before reflection. The storm subsides, and you are at leisure to examine the matter dispassionately. Doubts begin to creep in. Possibly, you say to yourself, I have been too hasty, too harsh. Justice must be tempered with mercy. I have caught Comrade Jackson bending, you add (still to yourself), but shall I press home my advantage too ruthlessly? No, you cry, I will abstain. And I applaud your action. I like to see this spirit of gentle toleration. It is bracing and comforting. As for these excellent speeches,' he added, 'I shall, of course, no longer have any need of their consolation. I can lay them aside. The sunlight can now enter and illumine my life through more ordinary channels. The cry goes round, "Psmith is himself again."' Mr Bickersdyke said nothing. Unless a snort of fury may be counted as anything. 24. The Spirit of Unrest During the following fortnight, two things happened which materially altered Mike's position in the bank.