There were some groans and
hisses, but the general sense of honour was much too strong for the
condemnation of a man unheard. 'Be sure you're right,
Slackbridge!' 'Put him up!' 'Let's hear him!' Such things were
said on many sides. Finally, one strong voice called out, 'Is the
man heer? If the man's heer, Slackbridge, let's hear the man
himseln, 'stead o' yo.' Which was received with a round of
applause.
Slackbridge, the orator, looked about him with a withering smile;
and, holding out his right hand at arm's length (as the manner of
all Slackbridges is), to still the thundering sea, waited until
there was a profound silence.
'Oh, my friends and fellow-men!' said Slackbridge then, shaking his
head with violent scorn, 'I do not wonder that you, the prostrate
sons of labour, are incredulous of the existence of such a man.
But he who sold his birthright for a mess of pottage existed, and
Judas Iscariot existed, and Castlereagh existed, and this man
exists!'
Here, a brief press and confusion near the stage, ended in the man
himself standing at the orator's side before the concourse.
Pages:
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263