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"We have heard, gentlemen," cried Caterham, "of nettles that become giant nettles.
"It is not for me to argue," said Redwood. "I must go to our sons. I want to go to my son. That is why I have come to you. Tell me exactly what you offer." Caterham made a speech upon his terms. The Children of the Food were to be given a great reservation in North America perhaps or Africa in which they might live out their lives in their own fashion. "But it's nonsense," said Redwood.
Now it chanced in the days when Caterham was campaigning against the Boom-children before the General Election that was amidst the most tragic and terrible circumstances to bring him into power, that the giant Princess, that Serene Highness whose early nutrition had played so great a part in the brilliant career of Doctor Winkles, had come from the kingdom of her father to England, on an occasion that was deemed important.
In 1884 he was sent to the school for the sons of Congregational ministers at Caterham; and the Cotswolds, with their wide outlook over the Severn estuary to May Hill and the wooded heights beyond, were exchanged for the bald sweep and the white chalk-pits of the North Downs.
It takes a multitude to make such a stillness as followed that disorder of cheering. A man alone in a wilderness; it's stillness of a sort no doubt, but he hears himself breathe, he hears himself move, he hears all sorts of things. Here the voice of Caterham was the one single thing heard, a thing very bright and clear, like a little light burning in a black velvet recess. Hear indeed!
From the first, so far as the course and conduct of their speech went, Caterham prevailed over Redwood. All the quality of the first phase of their meeting was determined by him, all the tone and procedure were his. That happened as if it was a matter of course. All Redwood's expectations vanished at his presence.
In the late afternoon he was called to the window by the clatter of a cab, that stopped without. A young man descended, and in another minute stood before him in the room, a slightly built young man of thirty perhaps, clean shaven, well dressed, well mannered. "Mr. Redwood, Sir," he began, "would you be willing to come to Mr. Caterham? He needs your presence very urgently." "Needs my presence!"
Meanwhile at any rate there was Caterham to stare at, and one could stand and study the distant prospect of the great man's features.
Then for a moment his son's face glowed out in a hot insurgence of the fire, his son's face looking up to him, tender as well as strong; and at that he found a voice to reach them all, speaking across a gulf, as it were, to his son. "I come from Caterham," he said. "He sent me to you, to tell you the terms he offers." He paused.
That little figure seemed to have absorbed the substance from them all. Caterham spoke of our ancient institutions. "Earearear," roared the crowd. "Ear! ear!" said the man from prison. He spoke of our ancient spirit of order and justice. "Earearear!" roared the crowd. "Ear! Ear!" cried the man from prison, deeply moved.
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