must fetch this thing to a point, Richard. And I am wondering what
Chartersea's next move will be," he added thoughtfully.





CHAPTER XXXIX

HOLLAND HOUSE

On the morrow, as I was setting out to dine at Brooks's, I received the
following on a torn slip of paper: "Dear Richard, we shall have a good
show to-day you may care to see." It was signed "Fox," and dated at St.
Stephen's. I lost no time in riding to Westminster, where I found a
flock of excited people in Parliament Street and in the Palace Yard. And
on climbing the wide stone steps outside and a narrower flight within I
was admitted directly into the august presence of the representatives of
the English people. They were in a most prodigious and unseemly state of
uproar.

What a place is old St. Stephen's Chapel, over St. Mary's in the Vaults,
for the great Commons of England to gather! It is scarce larger or more
imposing than our own assembly room in the Stadt House in Annapolis.
St. Stephen's measures but ten yards by thirty, with a narrow gallery
running along each side for visitors. In one of these, by the rail, I
sat down suffocated, bewildered, and deafened. And my first impression
out of the confusion was of the bewigged speaker enthroned under the
royal arms, sore put to restore order. On the table in front of him lay
the great mace of the Restoration. Three chandeliers threw down their