**** ROTATE **** **** ROTATE **** **** ROTATE **** **** ROTATE ****

Find this Story

Print, a form you can hold

Wireless download to your Amazon Kindle

Look for a summary or analysis of this Story.

Enjoy this? Share it!

PAGE 15

Hector
by [?]

“It is your chance–yes. I see the truth, Hector.” Her eyes had fallen and she looked at him no more, but, with a little movement away from him, offered her hand to him at arm’s length. It was done in a curious way, and he looked perplexed for a second, and then frightened. He dropped her hand, and his lips twitched.

“Laura,” he said, and could not go on.

“You must go now,” she said to all three of us. “The house should be very quiet. I shall be his nurse, and the doctor will stay all night. Isn’t it beautiful that Joe is going to get well!”

She went out quickly, before Hector could detain her, back to the room where Lane was.

* * * * *

There’s no need my telling you the details of that convention: Henderson was beaten from the start, and Hector’s speech was all that happened. If he hadn’t made it, there might have been a consolidation on a dark horse, for feeling was high against Trimmer. It isn’t an easy thing to go into a convention with a brother locked up in jail on a charge of attempted murder!

I’ll never forget Hector’s rising to make that speech. There wasn’t any cheering, there was a dead, cold hush. This wasn’t because his magnetism had deserted him; indeed, I don’t think it had ever before been felt so strongly. He was white as white paper, and his face had a look of suffering; altogether I believe I couldn’t give a better notion of him than saying that he somehow made me think of Hamlet.

He began in a very low but very penetrating voice, and I don’t think anybody in the farthest corner missed a single clear-cut syllable from the first. As I may have indicated, I had never been a warm admirer of his, but with all my prejudice, I think I admired him when he stood up to his task that day. For the effect he intended, his speech was a masterpiece, no less. I saw it before he had finished three sentences. And he delivered it, knowing that even while he did so he was losing the woman he loved; for Hector did love Laura Rainey, next to himself, and she had been part of his life and necessary to him. But though the heavens fell, he stuck to what he had set out to do, and did it masterfully.

Not that what he said could bear the analysis of a cool mind: nothing that Hector ever did or said has been able to do that. But for the purpose, it was perfect. For once he began at the beginning, without rhetoric, and he made it all the more effective by beginning with himself.

“Doubtless there are many among you who think it strange to see me rise to fulfil the charge with which you know me to be intrusted. My oldest and most intimate friend lies wounded on a bed of suffering, stricken down by the hand of another friend whose heart is in the cause for which I have risen. Therefore, you might well question me; you might well say: ‘To whom is your loyalty?’ Well might I ask myself that same question. And I will give you my answer: ‘There are things beyond the personal friendship of man and man, things greater than individual differences and individual tragedies, things as far higher and greater than these as the skies of God are higher than the roof of a child’s doll-house. These higher things are the good of the State and the Law of Justice!'”

That brought the first applause; and Trimmer’s people, seeing the crowd had taken Hector’s point, sprang to their feet and began to cheer. At a tense moment, such as this, cheering is often hypnotic, and good managers know how to make use of it on the floor. The noise grew thunderous, and when it subsided Hector was master of the convention. Then, for the first time, I saw how far he would go–and why. I had laughed at him all my life, but now I believed there was “something in him,” as they say. The Lord knows what, but it was there; and as I looked at him and listened it seemed to me that the world was at his feet.