“Who has, Pem? Show me the man that has, and I 'll show you a consummate ass. Parliamentary life is a roadstead with shifting sands, and there's no going a step without the lead-line; and that's one reason why the nation never likes to see one of your countrymen as the pilot,--you won't take soundings.” “There are other reasons, too,” said Pemberton, sternly, “but I have not come here to discuss this subject. I want to know, once for all, is it the wish of your party that I should be in the House?” “Of course it is; how can you doubt it?” “That being the case, what steps have you taken, or what steps can you take, to secure me a seat?” “Why, Pem, don't you know enough of public life to know that when a Minister makes an Attorney-General, it is tacitly understood that the man can secure his return to Parliament? When I order out a chaise and pair, I don't expect the innkeeper to tell me I must buy breeches and boots for the postilion.” “You deluge me with figures, Mr. Balfour, but they only confuse me. I am neither a sailor nor a postboy; but I see Mr. Banks wishes to confer with you--I will retire.” “Take a turn in the garden, Pern, and I will be with you in a moment. Are you a smoker?” “Not in the morning,” said the other, stiffly, and withdrew. “Mr. Heffernan is here, sir; will you see him?” asked the Secretary. “Let him wait; whenever I ring the bell you can come and announce him. I will give my answer then. What of the despatch?” “It is nearly all copied out, sir. It was longer than I thought.” “Let me see it now; I will read it at once.” The Secretary left the room, and soon returned with several sheets of note-paper in his hand. “Not all that, Banks?” “Yes, sir. It was two hundred and eighty-eight signs,--as long as the Queen's Speech. It seems very important too.” “Read,” said Balfour, lighting his cigar.