The feeling in the House of Commons was now running high against the Ministry, whose dissensions could no longer be concealed. But the War Party organised with some difficulty a strong agitation in London in their favour, and the streets and public-houses soon rang again with the hymnal invocation to the war-god Jingo. His worshippers attacked and broke up meetings called to protest against the War Vote, and they themselves held meetings in Sheffield, in Trafalgar Square, and in Exeter Hall (6th February). Still these demonstrations were empty of real meaning, and the Opposition would not have been intimidated by them but for a curious circumstance. On the 7th of February the debate on the War Vote was still dragging on, and every night the case of the Cabinet seemed to grow feebler and feebler. The accommodating Mr. Layard, however, once more came to their rescue. He began again to pour in his stereotyped telegrams that the Russians, in spite of the armistice, were still marching on Constantinople. Finally his despatches formed the basis for a rumour that was circulated at Countess Münster’s ball, on the 6th of January, that the Russians had actually occupied Constantinople. Next day the panic-stricken City was literally occupied by raging “Jingoes,” and but for the police Mr. Gladstone’s house would have been sacked. Every man who did not bow to the war-god was a traitor and a Russian spy, and the violence of the War Party ultimately frightened the wits out of the Opposition. When the House of Commons met, Sir Stafford Northcote, in reply to Lord Hartington, read Mr. Layard’s alarming telegrams, and then the Liberal leaders ran from their guns in a panic. Mr. Forster made haste to withdraw his Resolution against the War Vote. Nobody would listen to Mr. Bright, who shrewdly suggested that Mr. Layard was again misleading the Government; and the Liberal Party, deserted by its leaders, sat in abject dismay, cowering beneath the triumphant cheering of their opponents. But in a moment the whole scene changed, as if by the touch of a magician. While Mr. Bright was casting doubt on Mr. Layard’s telegrams, a note was passed on to Sir Stafford Northcote, after reading which he grew visibly agitated. He handed it to his colleagues, and when Mr. Bright sat down, Sir Stafford Northcote rose and, with a shame-faced visage, said he had something of importance to communicate. Both sides strained every ear to learn what fresh act of Russian perfidy had been discovered; but the reaction was indescribable when he read out an official denial from Prince Gortschakoff of Mr. Layard’s sensational despatches. “The order,” said Gortschakoff, “has been given to stop hostilities along the whole line in Europe and in Asia. There is not a word of truth in the rumours which have reached you.” Peals of derisive laughter greeted this anti-climax, only it was difficult to know whether the Opposition and Ministers were laughing at themselves, or at each other.