5

When Rud met the Popular Socialist Boss he hated him, he hated him immediately and without qualification. His intention of impressing him deeply, winning his confidence, betraying and supplanting him, was replaced by a vehement desire to destroy him, humuliatingly, completely and at once. Rud the political learner, at the mere sight of Lord Horatio, gave way to the more primitive Rud, Rud the vindictive destroyer.

He had expected to encounter a foolish figure, but he had not expected to encounter so exasperatingly vain and foolish a figure. He had thought he was bringing a considerable contribution to the Popular Socialist movement in the shape of his natural eloquence, rapid comprehension and gusty energy. He found Lord Horatio incapable of appreciating any gifts but his own.

Lord Horatio was seated before a great, ornamental, unbusiness–like desk with a large inkstand and impressive paper–weights and accessories. He was posed as an eighteenth–century Whig gentleman. But he was smoking a cigarette and there was an ash–tray of stubs and a selection of cigarette packages among the more monumental desk fittings. He was wearing a frogged purple velvet Tuxedo. His white shirt collar was open to reveal his neck picturesquely. To his left was a large table bearing a litter of pamphlets, press cuttings, proofs, memorandum pads and even books, and looking over this barrier appeared the upper part of the face of a small, spectacled, woman stenographer, who had been taking down his Lordship's correspondence.

She rose to go at Rud's entry.

"No, no," said Lord Horatio, with a restraining gesture of an elegant hand, "we shan't be long."

He had given Rud the benefit of his profile, the ruddy forelock, the Corinthian nose, the rather underhung jaw. Now he half turned to face him. The expression of his rather too closely–set eyes was designed to convey hypnotic penetration.

"Well," he said with a certain condescension. "What do you want?"

He had made no suggestion that Rud should sit down. Rud had an impulse to seize a chair and plant himself, but there was no chair. His scowl intensified. He came up to the desk and stood over Bohun. He had the infuriating thought that he must look rather like an under–gardener applying for a situation.

"The Popular Socialist programme expresses very much what I feel," he said. "I'm prepared to throw in my lot with it."

"That means work."

"What else can it mean?"

"What can you do?"

"Speak."

"Have you been trained?"

"I've debated in the Union with a certain success."

"But in the real world? I said, have you been trained? Our speakers are trained men."

"If you mean that poor little list of pros and cons of yours…" For once Rud was at a loss for words.

"Do you fancy you have a platform pairsonality?" said Lord Horatio. "I wonder. How tall are you?"

There was a pause. If Lord Horatio had not been so occupied with his own "pairsonality", he might have remarked the extreme malignity of the face before him.

"I'm two inches taller than Napoleon," said Rud.

"Remarkable! But for platform work you require more than a coincidence of that sort. You want a definite, commanding pairsonality. Even I have had to study and drill myself. You have to dominate. Frankly I think you're too short. But these are really questions for Commander Hoggin. He is in control of all the training work. You ought not to have come to me. Who sent you up? Rogers! Oh! Rogers…I've no doubt Commander Hoggin can see you, but the first and last thing in a party like ours is discipline and obedience."

He turned the wonderful hypnotic gaze of the leader full upon the new adherent, but it did not have much effect on him.

"But do you know who I am?" said Rud. "Do you know what I can do?"

"Hoggin must see to all that."

For a moment Rud was at a loss. He turned to go and then thought of something to say. "Why the hell don't you have chairs here for people to sit down?" he asked. "It's damned uncivil."

He went towards the door.

"One moment, my boy," he heard behind him. "Yes."

"The salute?"

Lord Horatio was standing up and looking very scandalised and stern and commanding. He had apparently not heard that impossible snarl about the chairs.

"How? Salute?"

Lord Horatio lifted his hand and Rud reciprocated. Lord Horatio dropped his hand and so did Rud. Honours were equal.

Then Rud slammed the door and found himself trembling and feeling sick.

Bohun stood for a time staring at the slammed door.

"We'll lick him into shape, Mrs. Crumb," he said. "We'll lick him into shape. Yes…By the by, did The Times print yesterday's letter? Who is it on The Times who makes all these needless difficulties about my letters? It gets worse and worse."

But his mind was on Rud.

"Who the devil was that, Mrs. Crumb? I've never seen him before."

"I'll get him documented, my lord. He joined up only last week."

"He's quite an untried man?"

"I'll get whatever dossier we have."