3

From the moment when Lord Horatio pulled up outside the Purple House he realised that there was a change in the atmosphere of the place. There were guards in the guardroom of number sixteen and two in the doorway, but instead of saluting smartly, they stared at him in a besotted manner and saluted belatedly. He decided to go into number seventeen. As he fumbled with his latch–key, Commander Hoggin came swiftly along the pavement and entered the house on his heels. "All sorts of things have happened," said Hoggin. "It's—it's a mutiny."

"Where's Smike?" asked the Boss.

"He's in number sixteen. He'll come if he can."

Lord Horatio led the way to a ground–floor parlour. "Tell me everything. I've seen the papers. How did that fellow get loose?"

"I couldn't prevent it. I—

"How did it happen? Never mind 'I.' How did that little beast jump our platform? How did he get the press he did?"

"There's a gang. It's an organised mutiny, m'lord. Smike reported on that Camborne Square flat, didn't he? His business to do so. He's the Intelligence Officer, not me. That rich American fellow is in it, Steenhold, and Rogers, that big fellow, who runs Boy Scout boxing clubs in Pimlico and Whitechapel, and there's Bodisham—I never trusted Bodisham—I told you—and a lot of them. Some new men. Some men who've come back. Ci–devants. They're all over number sixteen, waiting for you."

"Have they been in here?"

"How could they? It's kept locked."

"Good. What about Frobisher?"

"Wavering about. I always said that chap was too tall to keep stiff. The way he let them hustle him on his own platform—

"What did you do?"

"What could I do? I control speakers. I don't control the boys. And he was in command. You put him in command."

Bohun scowled at the faint note of grievance in Hoggin's tone. "Wait here for a moment," he said. "I shall go right in there and—handle them."

He went up to his bedroom. There he brushed his hair and stood for a time in front of a cheval glass, assembling his personality to the full. His reflection was satisfactory. He felt stimulated. He liked his tall, sinister presence rising to an occasion.

"Yes, my boy, I'll show you how to handle things," he said to an imaginary Rud, and with the habitual rectitude of a born commander of men, he went downstairs again, rejoined Hoggin and led the way into number sixteen. He walked through the door of communication and up to his study, past the first–floor room in which, as he was acutely aware, Rud, Bodisham and the others awaited him. "Get me Smike," he said to Hoggin.

He found Mrs. Crumb standing over a young man who was picking up copies of The Heart and Soul of a Great Leader from a tumbled heap upon the floor and piling them back on the table. He vanished at a gesture.

"Well?" said Bohun. "Has anything happened?"

"I don't know what's happening downstairs, but—"

"Yes?"

"That dreadful little Whittlelow man suddenly came in just now—took no more notice of me than a dog—and" (her voice fell to an awe–stricken whisper) "went and sat down in your chair. Just sat down."

"Did you say anything to him?"

"I said you might not be pleased to see him there. I said it quietly. Like that. I said, 'Lord Horatio—

"And what did he say?"

"He turned and made a most unpleasant face at me. He is ugly. But he hadn't a word to say for himself. Not a word, and presently he got up and walked out of the room. I don't think he likes me very much."

Smike came in with Hoggin as his lordship seated himself. "Tell me all about it," he said, leaning back, terrible but calm.

"They're just behind," said Smike, with a backward gesture of his head.

Rud appeared in the doorway, his face white and tense, with Rogers and Bodisham at either shoulder. Behind came Steenhold in a state of ecstatic enjoyment, and Chiffan, almost luminously pale with happy excitement. Dreed followed helpfully.

Hoggin and Smike placed themselves like ministers in attendance on Bohun's right.

"To what do I owe this intrusion?" said Lord Horatio, drumming impatiently on his desk.

"We want to discuss the policy of the Party—particularly in relation to America," said Rud.

"Especially in relation to America," echoed Chiffan.

Mrs. Crumb looked enquiringly at her employer. "I shall want a full note of all this," he said, and she sat down in her usual place. "And now?" said his lordship.

Rud stood contemplating the desk. Then carefully and deliberately he pushed aside an inkstand, a large memorandum pad, a book or two and two tall candle–lamps, placed himself sideways to the Boss, hoisted and squatted himself firmly on the place he had made for himself. From this position he proceeded to explain. "You see, Boss, we hate to say it, but we think that either your grasp of the world situation is feeble or you aren't acting—forgive my frankness—in perfect good faith."

"Do you mind not sitting on my desk?" said Lord Horatio.

"You don't provide chairs, you see," said Rud, looking down at him with quiet hatred and not offering to budge.

"Still—"

He considered the difficulty in a generous spirit. "Dreed, there, would you mind going downstairs and making one or two of those youngsters bring up some chairs? Then we can all sit decently and have a proper confabulation. For confabulate, my lord, we must. As I was saying, we feel our party has enormous possibilities. And they are not being realised. Are you prepared to discuss that with us?"

His lordship thought swiftly. No good starting a fight here. The odds were six to three. And this was not the place for it. Cold contempt and deliberation were indicated.

"And what is this discussion to be about?" he said.

"The country wants a lead. We are giving the country no lead."

"The country is inert."

"The country is as quiet as unlit gunpowder."

"You have my lead there." Lord Horatio gestured to his piled pamphlet. "There you have my Mein Kampf."

"Mein Kampf was full of ideas—definite ideas. It told the Germans exactly what to do. That stuff is just—personal tootling. It tells nobody anything to do. We want a lead as well as a leader. We want a clear statement of ideas. We want a meeting of the Party to clear up our aims."

Rud paused. Bohun under great provocation remained calm and quiet.

"You want dasapline," he said with quiet intensity. "You want to get these Bloomsbury plus Whitechapel ideas of yours together and then—wash them all out. That, my boy, is what you want."

"At a meeting?"

"At a meeting? Certainly."

"A show–down?"

"A clean–up. We will have a Dasapline meeting. I agree. Certainly I agree. The Party wants gingering up. You are right about that, anyhow. Maybe it needs a purge, a drastic purge. A conference, a confrontation, and no outside interference. Just among ourselves. That little Canton Hall round the corner here is big enough. A nice quiet little place. A ticket meeting—and no gloves on. No gloves on, mind you."

"You'll fix a date?"

"As soon as you like. What do you think of next week, Hoggin?"

"Sooner the better," said Smike.

Dreed and his chairs and helpers arrived belatedly in the doorway.

"We shan't want these chairs now," said Rud, getting off the desk. "We've done our business for the moment. There will have to be a small organising committee, of course."

"Smike," said Bohun. "Hoggin."

"Bodisham," said Rud.

"You?"

"Neither you nor me, Boss."

His lordship considered. "Perhaps best not. No…Dasapline," he said, and some pleasant thoughts seemed to cross his mind. "No reporters. Just ourselves. Smike, Hoggin, Bodisham."

Somebody said: "Frobisher."

"Why not?" said Rud.

"Four is enough," said Bohun, and added a touch that was almost in the Coriolanus vein. "And now perhaps you will allow me to—ah—ventilate my room. You have made a note of all this, Mrs. Crumb? You will let this Mr. Whittlelow and Mr. Bodisham and the other recalcitrant gentlemen have copies?…Enough."

He made a gesture of masterful dismissal for which Rud had no immediate repartee. He regarded Rud with an expression of serene malignity. He had no doubt now that the situation had been handled. Now he would show them. And as for that white tadpole dressed up as a man…!

Before Rud could devise any effective counter, Steenhold had taken him by the arm. "That's all settled," said Steenhold, and led him from the room.