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.Across the center aisle, James Howden was listening with half an ear.For the past few minutes he had been watching the clock at the south end of the chamber below the steeply-tiered ladies’ gallery, three-quarters full today.He was aware that very soon a third of the reporters present would be leaving to file stories for their papers’ late afternoon editions.With deadlines close, they would begin moving out at any moment.Listening carefully, he waited for an opening …“Surely there are times,” Bonar Deitz declaimed, “when humanitarian considerations should override stubborn adherence to the letter of the law?”The Prime Minister was on his feet.“Mr.Speaker, will the Leader of the Opposition permit a question?”Bonar Deitz hesitated.But it was a reasonable request he could hardly refuse.He said curtly, “Yes.”“Is the Leader of the Opposition suggesting,” Howden asked with sudden rhetoric, “that the Government should ignore the law, the law of this country, enacted by Parliament …”He was interrupted from the Opposition side by shouts of “Question, question!” “Get on with it!” “It’s a speech!” And from his own supporters came retaliatory cries of “Order!” “Listen to the question!” “What are you afraid of?” Bonar Deitz, who had resumed his seat, was once more on his feet.“I am coming to the crux of my question,” the Prime Minister declared loudly, his voice rising above the others, “and it is simply this.” He paused, waiting for relative silence, and when it came he continued, “Since it is plain that this unfortunate young man, Henri Duval, is in no way admissible to Canada under our own law, I ask the Leader of the Opposition if he is in favor of referring the case to the United Nations.And I may say that in any event it is the Government’s intention to bring this matter immediately to United Nations attention …”There was instant uproar.Once more, shouts, accusations and counteraccusations flew back and forth across the House.The Speaker was on his feet, his voice unheeded.Red-faced, his eyes blazing, Bonar Deitz faced the Prime Minister.He cried angrily, “This is a device—”And so it was.In the press gallery, reporters were hurrying out.The interruption, the announcement, had been perfectly timed …James Howden could predict the one-sentence lead on most news stories now being telephoned or typed: Henri Duval, the man-without-a-country, may have his case referred to the United Nations, the Prime Minister revealed to the House of Commons today.CP and BUP had probably sent three-bell bulletins already.“DUVAL CASE GOES TO U.N.—PRIME MINISTER,” the teletypes would clatter, and time-pressured editors, feverishly in search of a new angle, would use the words in headlines.The Opposition attack; Bonar Deitz’s speech—these would be mentioned, of course, but in a secondary sense.Inwardly glowing, the Prime Minister scribbled a one-line note to Arthur Lexington: “Write a letter.” If questioned later, he must be able to state that the promise of an approach to U.N.had been properly fulfilled by External Affairs.Bonar Deitz had resumed his interrupted speech.But there was a sense of lessened impact, of a head of steam dispersed.James Howden was aware of it; he suspected Deitz was too.Once, long ago, there had been a time when the Prime Minister had liked and respected Bonar Deitz despite the gulf of party politics dividing them.There had seemed an integrity and depth of character about the Opposition Leader, an honest consistency to all his actions, which it was hard not to admire.But in time Howden’s attitude had changed until nowadays he thought of Bonar Deitz with little more than tolerant contempt.Mostly the change had come through Deitz’s own performance as Opposition Leader.Many times, Howden had been aware, Bonar Deitz had failed to take full advantage of James Howden’s own vulnerability on specific issues.That sometimes such action—or lack of it—argued a reasonable restraint, was (as Howden saw it) beside the point.A leader’s role was to lead and, whenever advantage offered itself, to be tough and ruthless in taking it.Party politics was no cream-puff affair and inevitably the path to power was strewn with shattered hopes, and husks of other men’s ambitions.It was ruthlessness which Bonar Deitz had lacked
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