He was sitting at his
desk with a heap of papers before him referring to a contemplated
railway from Halifax, in Nova Scotia, to the foot of the Rocky
Mountains. It had become his business to get up the subject, and then
discuss with his principal, Lord Cantrip, the expediency of advising
the Government to lend a company five million of money, in order
that this railway might be made. It was a big subject, and the
contemplation of it gratified him. It required that he should look
forward to great events, and exercise the wisdom of a statesman. What
was the chance of these colonies being swallowed up by those other
regions,--once colonies,--of which the map that hung in the corner
told so eloquent a tale? And if so, would the five million ever be
repaid? And if not swallowed up, were the colonies worth so great an
adventure of national money? Could they repay it? Would they do so?
Should they be made to do so? Mr. Low, who was now a Q.C. and in
Parliament, would not have greater subjects than this before him,
even if he should come to be Solicitor General. Lord Cantrip had
specially asked him to get up this matter,--and he was getting it up
sedulously. Once in nine years the harbour of Halifax was blocked up
by ice. He had just jotted down the fact, which was material, when
Lady Laura's letter was brought to him.
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