Hadrian the Seventh

like this if you mean to do yersel’ any good at a’. Now, Comrades, all those 8,452,637 papists shall gladly drop their 8,452,637 votes into candidates’ ballot boxes which will be put forward by the Liblab Fellowship. They shall do it at one word from their Pope, at one penstroke of his, such is the besotted state of slavery in which they exist. Refuse they dare not, or they should languish in the horrors of the Spanish Inquisition or light the Fires of Smithfield and the Massacres of the so-called Saint Bartholomew. Comrades, it is that one word and penstroke which the sight of me and Mrs. Crowe shall squeeze out of their haughty Pope. We’d better have a proper deputation to go to wait on him with us for safety’s sake; and happen we’d better have a sort of address to present, explaining how matters stand, just to make things look pleasant and polite, as it were. That’s only a matter of form though. The main thing’ll be to see him fall back toes over tip on his judgment-seat like him as was struck with worms when he sees who’s in the deputation. Laugh? I won’t ever have laughed like I will laugh at him then! Well now, comrades, I’ve said my say and I say no more leaving the matter to your esteemed consideration. Comrades, think of all the insults which he and his myrmidons has made us groan under so long. Revenge is now at your disposal. This weak hand of mine has pointed out whit way. Seize it, oh seize it in the name of Freedom is all I ask. For myself I ask nothing, not a penny if you was to offer it me. Comrades, I’m fighting for the Cause. For the Cause I’d give my life as far as in me lies. That’s my aim: that’s my game, as the poet remarks. Comrades I shall not detain you longer I shall now sit down.” And the raucous gentleman panted into the next Fellowshipper’s chair.

XI

Dear Mrs. Crowe,

Secret and Confidential.

Please burn it when you have concluded reading.

Referring to our numerous enjoyable conversations on the subject of Socialism in which you have evinced entire acquiescence, I am directed by the Council of the Liblab Fellowship to call your attention to the advantages obtainable from comradeship as per enclosed. The entrance fee is two and six and the subscription five shillings per ann. payable in June and Dec. I may add that those are special terms which I have exerted my influence to obtain in your favour and I trust I shall meet with your esteemed approval. Would you decide to join, kindly notify me of the same per wire for wh. I enclose six stamps. Yes or No will answer all purposes, but personally I feel sure that it shall be yes. On receipt of your anticipated favour will at once propose and have you seconded at our evening meeting to take place on the night of the same day when you get this letter. Should your reply be in the affirmative I am to let you know that you shall at once be nominated as a member of a deputation, which I have the honour to be a member of as well, which is about to proceed to Rome for the purpose of diplomatically interviewing our mutual friend the Pope. The expenses of the trip will be borne by the Liblab funds so there is no need to worry on that score. You are aware that travel especially to such a famous town as Rome is considered advantageous in every respect. The Italian sky the numerous old ancient edifices and the Romans themselves in their native monasteries cannot fail to amuse the eye of the beholder. The excursion is entirely gratis and so that difficulty is removed. But in addition to what I have said there is also the prospect of renewing our acquaintance with his so-called “Holiness”!!!!! And I may say for certain of having private interviews with him in the innermost recesses of his haunts. More I shall not now add. The mission of the deputation is strictly diplomatic and connected with political affairs, and I am of course not at liberty to divulge the details to anyone but fellowshippers, it would be hardly prudent. Ah would that you dear Mrs. Crowe was one. But I may without any breach of confidence inform you in the strictest confidence that Rose alias Hadrian is in our power and therefore putting politics out of the question it shall go hard if you and me cannot do a little private business with him on our own account. Hoping to hear from you soon as per enclosed blank form and thanking you in anticipation

I remain
Yours truly in the Cause (I hope)

Jeremiah Sant.

P.S. Now burn this without fail.

Sant’s lady-friend sat at the breakfast table, pondering this letter while her kidney grew cold. The four lodgers were gone to business; and she was alone except for the presence of her son. He was one of those beautiful speechless cow-eyed youths who seem born to serve as butts. Most people exercise some influence, assert some personal note. Alaric Crowe did neither. A course of female rule had produced him with about as much individuality as a cushion. He ate his breakfast in delicate silence. His mother was wrapt in thought. She found Sant’s letter delectable. The consuming passion of her whole life was for George Arthur Rose. Next to him, she desired fame, notoriety, as a leader in suburban literary and artistic “circles.” By perseverance, an undeniable amount of clever organizing power, a certain stock of third or fourth class talent, and any quantity of “push,” she had established a sort of salon where little lions hebdomadally roared. But she never had won the faintest regard from the man for whom she burned. The violence of her