Dear Despard,
‘I learn with interest of your intention to have an informal pow wow’ — Despard-Smith repeated the word with extraordinary and depressed gravity — ‘pow wow before the great day of our election. I thoroughly approve of this little venture, and you may go ahead with my blessing. Did not my saga-men discuss cases in their booths before they came to the great debates in the Thing? I congratulate you on this attempt to clear your heads. Clear heads, those are what you most require. I do not, however, consider that it fits my present position of responsibility to take a hand in your little pow wow. You appear to suggest that I may not want to stay out at night because I am not so young as I was. Pray do not worry on that account. I can outlast some of you younger men yet. If I absent myself, it is on completely different grounds. I am entrusted with the grave responsibility of being at the helm while the college plunges through this stormy crossing. And I should further say that some of our colleagues have represented to me that I have an added trust because of such little distinction as I may have been fortunate enough to attain.
‘Weighing these responsibilities in my mind, I have reached the conclusion I must stand aloof from any discussions among yourselves up to the great day of the election. I shall then cast my vote as my conscience guides me, and I hope to lead you all on that same course, so that we may make a worthy choice.
‘Good luck to your little pow wow.
‘Ever sincerely yours,
‘M H L Gay.’
‘This does not make our task lighter,’ said Despard-Smith, looking up from the letter. ‘So far as I am entitled to judge the intentions of the fellows, we have not yet attained a firm majority for either of our candidates. Some of us think this may lead us into a position which is nothing short of disastrous. I have never known anything comparable during my long association with the college. By this stage we have always been certain before who was going to win our suffrages. We were certain’ — he said, with one of his funereal anticlimaxes — ‘who was going to draw the lucky n-number. But this time we have not been so wise. I should like us to hear the Dean’s views on this most unfortunate dilemma.’
‘It’s lamentable,’ Chrystal began, and went on to make a brisk, reasonable, friendly statement. It had been bad for the college to go through this prolonged suspense. He disliked being separated from his friends on the other side, and he hoped they disliked it too. Either of the candidates would be an excellent Master whom the college would be lucky to get. It was a sign of something wrong that the college should become unfit to live in just because they could not choose between two excellent men. But apparently they could not choose. ‘I’m just pointing out the snags,’ said Chrystal. ‘It’s lamentable. I don’t pretend to see the solution. But I just want to ask one question: has the time come to forget our disagreement? Has the time come to find a way out?’
From that moment the room was electric with attention. This was not just a talk: something was in the air. Even those who had not followed Chrystal’s progress knew something hung on these minutes. Brown’s face was lowering: Jago sat as though he did not hear.
We looked at each other, waiting for someone to begin. At last Crawford spoke. He was even more deliberate than his habit, not so impregnably assured: he was choosing his words.
‘I wish this was such a pleasant occasion as the last time we met in this room. I should much prefer to hear the Dean explain again how he and his friend Brown had brought off their great coup for the college. The more I reflect, the more chances I think that coup of theirs opens up in front of us. As for the present position, I agree with a good deal of what the Dean says. But I don’t consider this is the right time to act. I know this long wait hasn’t improved some of our tempers. But it won’t be much longer. Speaking as a fellow, I don’t see any alternative to waiting. I didn’t quite understand the Dean’s suggestion. I do not know whether he thinks that other names ought to be canvassed now. Speaking as a candidate, I can’t be expected to accept the view that other names ought to be considered at this late stage. I hope that the Senior Tutor agrees with me.’
‘Utterly.’
‘My advice is,’ said Crawford, ‘leave it until the day. One of us will be elected unless someone decides to throw away his vote. If neither of us is elected, then it will be time for us to have a talk.’
Jago had only spoken that one word since he entered the room. Now he roused himself. He had been keeping unnaturally still. By this night, even Crawford’s expression bore a trace of worry: but it was nothing to Jago’s. Yet he spoke with dignity.
‘If the college votes in chapel and cannot reach a majority for either my colleague or myself, it will be necessary for us all to meet together,’ he said. ‘It is not fitting either for me or my colleague to say more now. If the need should arise, we shall give what help we can to find a solution for the college. It would be our plain duty to do so.’
His eyes had rested in turn on Chrystal, Despard-Smith, and Brown. Now he looked at Crawford.
‘If the others wish to continue with their discussion,’ he said, ‘I think we must remove ourselves. There is nothing left for us to add.’
‘I agree,’ said Crawford, and they left the room.
We listened to their footsteps down the stairs. Chrystal said sharply to Despard-Smith: ‘I should like to hear what other people think.’
There was a pause. Pilbrow burst out that he was solid for Crawford, despite the lateness of his change, for reasons some of us knew. Another pause. Nightingale said with a smile that he would never vote for anyone but Crawford. Then Brown spoke, and during his whole speech his gaze did not leave Chrystal.
‘I’m glad to have this opportunity of explaining to most of the college,’ he said, ‘that I think we’re in danger of making a terrible mistake. Some people already know the strength of my views, but perhaps those of our number who support Crawford have not heard them. I should like to assure them that I believe Jago will be the best possible Master for the college, and I believe it with more absolute certainty than I have ever felt on such an occasion. Any departure from Jago would be a loss that the college might not be able to recover from for many years. During the rest of my time here, I should not be able to forget it.’
Everyone was looking at him and Chrystal. Many were puzzled, they did not know what was going on. Some saw the struggle clear. Yet everyone was looking at those two faces, the benign one, now flushed with anger, and the domineering.
No one spoke. Chrystal was regarding Brown as though there were a question to ask: there came an almost pathetic smile on Chrystal’s firm mouth.
Suddenly Chrystal looked away.
‘We’re not getting far,’ he said with a harsh, curt bravado. ‘I believe several of us are not satisfied with either candidate. Some of us never have been. I can speak out now they’ve gone. There’s something to be said for Jago: I’ve been resigned to voting for him, as you all know. There’s something to be said for Crawford: I’ve seen things in him lately that I like, and I understand his supporters’ point of view. But we’re not tied to either of them. I believe that’s the way out.’