of the Old Tiverton Road. At least he would pass
the house, and soothe or inflame his emotions by resting for a moment thus near
to Sidwell.
    What? He had believed himself incapable of erotic madness? And he pressed
his forehead against the stones of the wall to relieve his sick dizziness.
    It was Sidwell or death. Into what a void of hideous futility would his life
be cast, if this desire proved vain, and he were left to combat alone with the
memory of his dishonour! With Sidwell the reproach could be outlived. She would
understand him, pardon him - and thereafter a glorified existence, rivalling
that of whosoever has been most exultant among the sons of men!
 

                                Part the Fourth

                                       I

Earwaker's struggle with the editor-in-chief of The Weekly Post and the
journalist Kenyon came to its natural close about a month after Godwin Peak's
disappearance. Only a vein of obstinacy in his character had kept him so long in
a position he knew to he untenable. From the first his sympathy with Mr.
Runcorn's politics had been doubtful, and experience of the working of a Sunday
newspaper, which appealed to the ignobly restive, could not encourage his
adhesion to this form of Radicalism. He anticipated dismissal by retirement, and
Kenyon, a man of coarsely vigorous fibre, at once stepped into his place.
    Now that he had leisure to review the conflict, Earwaker understood that
circumstances had but hastened his transition from a moderate ardour in the
parliamentary cause of the people, to a regretful neutrality regarding all
political movements. Birth allied him with the proletarian class, and his
sentiment in favour of democracy was unendangered by the disillusions which must
come upon every intellectual man brought into close contact with public affairs.
The course of an education essentially aristocratic (Greek and Latin can have no
other tendency so long as they are the privilege of the few) had not affected
his natural bent, nor was he the man to be driven into reaction because of
obstacles to his faith inseparable from human weakness. He had learnt that the
emancipation of the poor and untaught must proceed more slowly than he once
hoped - that was all. Restored to generous calm, he could admit that such men as
Runcorn and Kenyon - the one with his polyarchic commercialism, the other with
his demagogic violence - had possibly a useful part to play at the present stage
of things. He, however, could have no place in that camp. Too indiscreetly he
had hoisted his standard of idealism, and by stubborn resistance of insuperable
forces he had merely brought forward the least satisfactory elements of his own
character