FOR THOSE with stomach for it, politics is a great game. Dirty. Brutal. Treacherous. Absolutely bloody marvellous as spectator sport. And just as we were about to write them off, here we have the Tories presenting us with the game as only the masters know how to play it.
"My enemy's enemy is my friend" has sprung to mind more than once since Mr John Major (who had his Commons swan song yesterday) signalled the start of the succession race.
It must have occurred to Mr John Redwood a week ago, when fellow right wingers Peter Lilley and Michael Howard dumped him in favour of the "centre right" William Hague. And it certainly will have crossed Mr Hague's mind yesterday, as Mr Redwood took his revenge; the party's leading Eurosceptic endorsing the ranking Europhile in a determined bid to stop the young pretender.
GUBU isn't quite the right description of it, although many true Thatcherites will find the Clarke Redwood alliance absolutely grotesque.
Nor is the notion of the balanced ticket, admittedly more American than British, unprecedented. It is, for all that went before, just about believable. But it is also, certainly, a bizarre conclusion to a leadership contest about which many just a few short weeks ago found it difficult to generate any serious excitement.
Certainly many British journalists were initially sniffy, chiding those in the Tory press who hadn't quite got the message that the Tories were no longer in government.
Given the general contentment with Mr Blair's one party state, did it actually matter much who led them? Could anybody really get excited when Mr Stephen Dorrell declared his candidacy, or care when he withdrew it before a vote was cast?
The lineup hardly inspired. Initial enthusiasm for Mr Clarke gave way to the assumption that his first round vote marked his "ceiling" and that this right wing party would deliver the crown to one of its own.
There was pleasure at the demise of Mr Howard, indifference to the fate of Mr Lilley, and a perceptible yawn at the expected triumph of Mr Hague, variously dubbed "Hague the Vague" and "John Major Mark 2".
Few paid much heed to the performance of Mr Redwood, content to foster the absurd notion that he's plainly nuts and simply unelectable. The wily former chancellor knew better. And he was quick off the mark on Tuesday night, inviting Mr Redwood to talk terms.
Mr Clarke knew that for many Tory MPs this contest could come down to questions of personal envy and enmity, both in plentiful supply among the divided right wing. He also moved to exploit Mr Hague's gaffe over European policy.
In a bid to answer criticism from the Redwood camp, Mr Hague ruled out membership of the single currency for the life of this parliament and the next.
And in a bid to alleviate suspicions that he would preside over the fudge and sludge of the Major years, Mr Hague warned of the iron discipline which would require members of his shadow cabinet to sign on the dotted line in support of that policy.
The immediate, inescapable conclusion to be drawn from that was that Mr Hague could not retain Mr Clarke, first choice of MPs and party activists, on his front bench. Time, then, to play the unity card.
And by yesterday morning the heavy hitters of right and left combined with the offer of an inclusive leadership, casting a Hague victory as a recipe only for a continuation of the Tory civil war.
This is smart politics. Mr Clarke and Mr Redwood retain their principled differences over Europe. But both understand that, in all probability, the single currency issue will not be theirs to decide. If against that expectation it should be their call Tory MPs can enjoy a free vote and the people will decide in a referendum.
Between now and that dim distant day, their task is to fashion a cohesive opposition which can harry and harass Mr Blair's government on domestic political and economic issues.
There are obvious personal advantages for Mr Redwood. He gets to be shadow Chancellor and to keep his own leadership hopes alive. And defeat for Mr Hague would hardly be a personal calamity. At 36 he, too, could expect to fight, and probably win, another day.
But, armed with Baroness Thatcher's endorsement, Mr Hague has determined to fight on, and Mr Clarke must sweat it out while waiting to discover if his colleagues are similarly prepared to get smart.
Lady Thatcher, too, will sweat it out, waiting to discover if her bequest to the party is a burning flame or a dying ember.