Although this news was not surprising, itnevertheless silenced the room for a full minute.
“It’s all we’ve got,” Robert said quietly.“Even if we manage to uphold our part of the bargain.”
“And a good part of that will entail ourdeploying the kind of specific advice I’ve heard here thisevening,” Dr. Baldwin said more cheerfully. “His Excellency hasasked me to bring him arguments that are likely to persuade thefence-sitters to jump to our side. He realizes that we here are anessential source of these ‘persuasions’: his charm and diplomaticskill should do the rest.”
“And above all,” Robert said in hisbarrister’s summing-up voice, “we must make sure the moderates donot feel threatened by any of this. Francis will continue in theExaminer to call for responsible government, as any suddenchange there will be viewed with extreme skepticism. However, inour own conduct – in the Assembly and in our day-to-day contactwith fellow citizens – we will talk only about the compelling termsof the Union Bill itself.”
Nothing further of any substance was left tobe said, and the meeting broke up ten minutes later. Itsparticipants to a man were decidedly happier at its conclusion thanthey had been at its beginning.
***
Robert, Francis Hincks and Marc remained to mullover what had transpired. Dr. Baldwin, unable to stop yawning, wasrelieved to see Diana Ramsay pop her head in the rear doorway andwhisper that one of the boys was awake and asking for hisgrandfather. Who was most happy to oblige. And Marc, as always, waspleased to see just how attractive a young woman Diana really wasand why Brodie was smitten with her. Besides her darkly lustroushair, bold brown eyes and mature figure, the intelligence andcompassion in her expression and her tender concern for Robert’sfour children would have melted the stoniest heart. And evidentlyshe saw in Brodie some of the same qualities that Marc haddiscovered in him last spring before and after Dick Dougherty’stragic and senseless death. He wished them well.
“So,” Hincks said when the three men were atlast alone, “we still keep our best strategy secret?”
“You know, Francis, how much I hate suchdeceptions and the myriad small lies they spawn,” Robert said. “Butno-one outside this room must learn about your correspondence withLouis LaFontaine in Montreal.”
“Do you honestly think there’s a chance thathe and his radical Rouge party would join our Reform caucus once weget a united parliament?” Hincks said. “After all, his officialline at home is no union under any circumstances.”
“A view he holds passionately,” Robert said.“And one he must adhere to resolutely until the fight is lost, ashe now suspects it is. Meantime, he must keep his Frenchcompatriots on side.”
“And he writes that he is willing to discussthe formation of a left-wing party,” Hincks said, “even though itwould toss into a single pot two languages, two cultures and tworeligions.”
“And I believe him,” Robert said. “Once weget this Union Bill approved and Mr. Poulett Thomson has had timeto choose a capital and get the essential infastructure in place,we can arrange to meet with Louis and begin to hammer out thedetails of a durable coalition. My argument to him will be that,failing the establishment of a separate and democratic Quebec, hisbest hope – our best hope – is a united parliament and a cabinetresponsible to the majority party in the elected Assembly.”
“With both of you in it,” Hincks said,winking at Marc.
“That’s still some way off,” Robert said.
“I wish,” Marc said, “that we could getFrench accepted as one of the languages of the Legislature. Itwould be a lot easier to welcome our French colleagues in a chamberwhere their native tongue was spoken and made part of the permanentrecord.”
“I agree,” Robert said. “But again, that isone of the many tiny but very red rags we must not wavebefore the Tory bulls.”
“Much as we’d like to,” Hincks said. “But theimmediate way ahead is to cobble a road the moderate Tories canfeel comfortable riding upon – to their own extinction.”
“I wouldn’t put it quite so cynically,Francis,” Robert said.
“Still,” Marc said, “everything depends onour getting this Union Bill approved next month.”
“If we don’t,” Robert said, “God help usall.”
THREE
On the night-shift, Cobb rarely patrolled hisassigned area in a set pattern. For one thing, he liked to spendsome time in the several taverns and public houses en route – tolend his calming presence and slake his thirst, while picking upany news relevant to crimes committed or contemplated. For another,a repeated routine tended to bore him, and boredom tended toincrease the desire to find a snug haven and snooze. But whateverroute time and chance prompted, he always managed to pass by ornear the two parliament buildings – coming and going. Parliamentwas due to open, he was told, in two or three weeks, and tensionsin the capital between the “loyalists” and the “Durhamites” wasalready high. In addition to the irksome rash of burglaries alongFront Street and elsewhere, veiled threats had been made againstthe property and sanctity of the Legislature. While Cobb placed nocredence in them, he felt it would not hurt to have the uniform ofthe law be seen nearby with all its conspicuous authority.
The northern perimeter of his patrol didbring him across the street from Government House, but the policehappily left the protection of His Excellency and his six-acre parkto the regular army. Still, Cobb got a chuckle thinking about thedemi-royal residence now being occupied by two bigwigs: SirGeorge Arthur, the little martinet calling himselfLieutenant-Governor of Upper Canada, and the recently arrivedPoulett Thomson, the supreme Governor of both the upper and thelower province. And since it was said the two men were on oppositesides of the Union Bill debate, he wondered what they found to chatabout at teatime.
Cobb walked around both parliament buildings,not forgetting the extensive gardens behind them where enemygrenadiers or sappers (or, more likely, a pair of panting lovers)could be lurking, bombs at the ready. Back out on Front Street, hestrolled west – wholly at ease and very much enjoying the suddenarrival of Venus and its retinue of stars in the south-western sky.On a whim, or perhaps to delay checking out The Sailor’s Arms ablock farther on, he swung north up John Street to Wellington. Awoman smoking a clay pipe on her verandah waved to him, and hewaved back. On Wellington he drifted westward again, thinkingmostly about how well Delia was doing in her studies at MissTyson’s Academy and just how he and Dora might manage hersecond-term fees.
“C-C-Cobb, come quick!”
Cobb snapped out of his reverie in time tocatch young Squealer before the boy tumbled headlong into hisrobust, belted belly.
“Slow down, lad. You’ll injure us both!”
“You gotta come, Cobb, right away,” Squealerpanted as he fought any breath left in his scrawny urchin’s body.He was one of a dozen street kids who hung about the taverns, CourtHouse, City Hall or market in hope of earning a penny runningerrands and delivering messages.
“Come where?” Cobb said patiently. He knewbetter than to take the boy’s excitement at face value.
“To the Sailor’s Arms!” The lad’s voice beganto rise and splinter (the source of his nickname).
God, Cobb thought, fingering his whistle, nota dust-up or a full-scale brawl this early in a fine Indian summerevening. “What’s goin’ on in that dive?”
Squealer’s cry soared into falsetto:“M-murder! Somebody’s gettin’ murdered!”
***
Cobb followed Squealer in his best loping trot,constrained as always by the risk of his thick, muscled pot-bellybecoming overbalanced and pitching the neighbouring parts in anunfriendly direction. They were rushing down Peter Street and werealmost at Front when Squealer wheeled and darted into an alley.With just a second’s hesitation, Cobb loped in after him. It was sodark now that Cobb could see only the thrashing of the boy’s barelegs just ahead of him. Somehow they managed to avoid stumblingover the discarded crates and barrels that littered this and everyother alley in town. Half a minute later Cobb pulled up besideSquealer, and followed his gaze up to a faint light in thesecond-storey window of a large building.