"Well, in general," said the Boss, "it is a good thing for all countries to live in harmony. When they speak the same language, it's still better. I have no feeling one way or the other. I left Ireland young, and would hardly have remembered I'm Irish but for Livingstone. What do you think of it, Senator?"
"An alliance with England!" cried he with contempt. "Fancy me walking down to a district meeting with such an auctioneer's tag hanging on my back. Why, I'd be sold out on the spot. Those people haven't forgot how they were thrown down and thrown out of Ireland. No, sir. Leave us out of an alliance."
"That's the popular feeling, I think," Sullivan said to His Lordship.
"I can understand the Senator's feelings," the Englishman replied softly. "But if, before the alliance came to pass, the Irish question should be well settled, how would that affect your attitude, Senator?"
"My attitude," replied the Senator, posing as he reflected that a budding statesman made the inquiry, "would be entirely in your favor."
"Thank you. What more could I ask?" Lord Constantine replied with a fierce look at Arthur. "I say myself, until the Irish get their rights, no alliance."
"Then we are with you cordially. We want to do all we can for a man who has been so fair to our people," the Boss remarked with the flush of good wine in his cheek. "Champagne sentiments," murmured Arthur.
Monsignor, prompted by Anne, came to the rescue of the young nobleman.
"There would be a row, if the matter came up for discussion just now,"
he said. "Ten years hence may see a change. There's one thing in favor of Irish ... well, call it neutrality. Speaking as a churchman, Catholics have a happier lot in English-speaking lands than in other countries. They have the natural opportunity to develop, they are not hampered in speech and action as in Italy and France."
"How good of you to say so," murmured His Lordship.
"Then again," continued Monsignor, with a sly glance at Arthur, "it seems to me inevitable that the English-speaking peoples must come into closer communion, not merely for their own good, or for selfish aims, but to spread among less fortunate nations their fine political principles. There's the force, the strength, of the whole scheme. Put poor Ireland on her feet, and I vote for an alliance."
"Truly, a Daniel come to judgment," murmured Arthur.
"It's a fine view to take of it," the Boss thought.
"Are you afraid to ask Ledwith for an opinion?" Arthur suggested.
"What's he got to do with it?" Everard snapped, unsoftened by the mellow atmosphere of the feast.
"It is no longer a practical question with me," Owen said cheerfully. "I have always said that if the common people of the British Isles got an understanding of each other, and a better liking for each other, the end of oppression would come very soon. They are kept apart by the artificial hindrances raised by the aristocracy of birth and money. The common people easily fraternize, if they are permitted. See them in this country, living, working, intermarrying, side by side."
"How will that sound among the brethren?" said Arthur disappointed.
His mother flashed him a look of triumph, and Lord Constantine looked foolishly happy.
"As the utterance of a maniac, of course. Have they ever regarded me as sane?" he answered easily.
"And what becomes of your dream?" Arthur persisted.
"I have myself become a dream," he answered sadly. "I am passing into the land of dreams, of shadows. My dream was Ireland; a principle that would bring forth its own flower, fruit, and seed; not a department of an empire. Who knows what is best in this world of change? Some day men may realize the poet's dream:
"The parliament of man, the federation of the world."
Arthur surrendered with bad grace. He had expected from Ledwith the last, grand, fiery denunciation which would have swept the room as a broadside sweeps a deck, and hurled the schemes of his mother and Lord Constantine into the sea. Sad, sad, to see how champagne can undo such a patriot! For that matter the golden wine had undone the entire party.
Judy declared to her dying day that the alliance was toasted amid cheers before the close of the banquet; that Lord Constantine in his delight kissed Anne as she left the room; with many other circumstances too improbable to find a place in a veracious history. It is a fact, however, that the great scheme which still agitates the peoples interested, had its success depended on the guests of Anne Dillon, would have been adopted that night. The dinner was a real triumph.
Unfortunately, dinners do not make treaties; and, as Arthur declared, one dinner is good enough until a better is eaten. When the member of the British Cabinet came to sit at Anne's table, if one might say so, the tables were turned. Birmingham instead of Monsignor played the lead; the man whose practical temperament, financial and political influence, could soothe and propitiate his own people and interest the moneyed men in the alliance. It was admitted no scheme of this kind could progress without his aid. He had been reserved for the Cabinet Minister.
No one thought much about the dinner except the hostess, who felt, as she looked down the beautiful table, that her glory had reached its brilliant meridian. A cabinet minister, a lord, a countess, a leading Knickerbocker, the head of Tammany, and a few others who did not matter; what a long distance from the famous cat-show and Mulberry Street!
Arthur also looked up the table with satisfaction. If his part in the play had not been dumb show (by his mother's orders), he would have quoted the famous grind of the mills of the gods. The two races, so unequally matched at home, here faced each other on equal ground.
Birmingham knew what he had to do.
"I am sure," he said to the cabinet minister, "that in a matter so serious you want absolute sincerity?"
"Absolute, and thank you," replied the great man.
"Then let me begin with myself. Personally I would not lift my littlest finger to help this scheme. I might not go out of my way to hinder it, but I am that far Irish in feeling, not to aid England so finely. For a nation that will soon be without a friend in the world, an alliance with us would be of immense benefit. No man of Irish blood, knowing what his race has endured and still endures from the English, can keep his self-respect and back the scheme."
Arthur was sorry for his lordship, who sat utterly astounded and cast down wofully at this expression of feeling from such a man.
"The main question can be answered in this way," Birmingham continued.
"Were I willing to take part in this business, my influence with the Irish and their descendants, whatever it may be, would not be able to bring a corporal's guard into line in its behalf."
Lord Constantine opened his mouth, Everard snorted his contempt, but the great man signaled silence. Birmingham paid no attention.
"In this country the Irish have learned much more than saving money and acquiring power; they have learned the unredeemed blackness of the injustice done them at home, just as I learned it. What would Grahame here, Sullivan, Senator Dillon, or myself have been at this moment had we remained in Ireland? Therefore the Irish in this country are more bitter against the English government than their brethren at home. I am certain that no man can rally even a minority of the Irish to the support of the alliance. I am sure I could not. I am certain the formal proposal of the scheme would rouse them to fiery opposition."
"Remember," Arthur whispered to Everard, raging to speak, "that the Cabinet Minister doesn't care to hear anyone but Birmingham."
"I'm sorry for you, Conny," he whispered to his lordship, "but it's the truth."
"Never enjoyed anything so much," said Grahame _sotto voce_, his eyes on Everard.
"However, let us leave the Irish out of the question," the speaker went on. "Or, better, let us suppose them favorable, and myself able to win them over. What chance has the alliance of success? None."
"Fudge!" cried Everard, unabashed by the beautiful English stare of the C. M.
"The measure is one-sided commercially. This country has nothing to gain from a scheme, which would be a mine to England; therefore the moneyed men will not touch it, will not listen to it. Their time is too valuable. What remains? An appeal to the people on the score of humanity, brotherhood, progress, what you please? My opinion is that the dead weight there could not be moved. The late war and the English share in it are too fresh in the public mind. The outlook to me is utterly against your scheme."
"It might be objected to your view that feeling is too strong an element of it," said the Cabinet Minister.
"Feeling has only to do with my share in the scheme," Birmingham replied. "As an Irishman I would not further it, yet I might be glad to see it succeed. My opinion is concerned with the actual conditions as I see them."
With this remark the formal discussion ended. Mortified at this outcome of his plans, Lord Constantine could not be consoled.
"As long as Livingstone is on your side, Conny," said Arthur, "you are foredoomed."
"I am not so sure," His Lordship answered with some bitterness. "The Chief Justice of the United States is a good friend to have."
A thrill shot through Dillon at this emphasis to a rumor hitherto too light for printing. The present incumbent of the high office mentioned by Lord Constantine lay dying. Livingstone coveted few places, and this would be one. In so exalted a station he would be "enskied and sainted."
Even his proud soul would not disdain to step from the throne-room of Windsor to the dais of the Supreme Court of his country. And to strike him in the very moment of his triumph, to snatch away the prize, to close his career like a broken sentence with a dash and a mark of interrogation, to bring him home like any dead game in a bag: here would be magnificent justice!
"Have I found thee, O mine enemy?" Arthur cried in his delight.
CHAPTER XXV.