But while Harley had thus occupied the hours of night with cares for the
living, Audley Egerton had been in commune with the dead. He had taken
from the pile of papers amidst which it had fallen, the record of Nora's
silenced heart. With a sad wonder he saw how he had once been loved.
What had all which successful ambition had bestowed on the lonely
statesman to compensate for the glorious empire he had lost,--such realms
of lovely fancy; such worlds of exquisite emotion; that infinite which
lies within the divine sphere that unites spiritual genius with human
love? His own positive and earthly nature attained, for the first time,
and as if for its own punishment, the comprehension of that loftier and
more ethereal visitant from the heavens, who had once looked with a
seraph's smile through the prison-bars of his iron life; that celestial
refinement of affection, that exuberance of feeling which warms into such
varieties of beautiful idea, under the breath of the earth-beautifier,
Imagination,--all from which, when it was all his own, he had turned half
weary and impatient, and termed the exaggerations of a visionary romance,
now that the world had lost them evermore, he interpreted aright as
truths. Truths they were, although illusions. Even as the philosopher
tells us that the splendour of colours which deck the universe is not on
the surface whereon we think to behold it, but in our own vision; yet,
take the colours from the universe, and what philosophy can assure us
that the universe has sustained no loss?
But when Audley came to that passage in the fragment which, though but
imperfectly, explained the true cause of Nora's flight; when he saw how
Levy, for what purpose he was unable to conjecture, had suggested to his
bride the doubts that had offended him,--asserted the marriage to be a
fraud, drawn from Audley's own brief resentful letters to Nora proof of
the assertion, misled so naturally the young wife's scanty experience of
actual life, and maddened one so sensitively pure into the conviction of
dishonour,--his brow darkened, and his hand clenched. He rose and went
at once to Levy's room. He found it deserted, inquired, learned that
Levy was gone forth, and had left word he might not be at home for the
night. Fortunate, perhaps, for Audley, fortunate for the baron, that
they did not then meet. Revenge, in spite of his friend's admonition,
might at that hour have been as potent an influence on Egerton as it had
been on Harley, and not, as with the latter, to be turned aside.
Audley came back to his room and finished the tragic record. He traced
the tremor of that beloved hand through the last tortures of doubt and
despair; he saw where the hot tears had fallen; he saw where the hand had
paused, the very sentence not concluded; mentally he accompanied his--
fated bride in the dismal journey to her maiden home, and beheld her
before him as he had last seen, more beautiful even in death than the
face of living woman had ever since appeared to him; and as he bent over
the last words, the blank that they left on the leaf, stretching pale
beyond the quiver of the characters and the blister of the tears,--pale
and blank as the void which departed love leaves behind it,--he felt his
Heart suddenly stand still, its course arrested as the record closed. It
beat again, but feebly,--so feebly! His breath became labour and pain,
his sight grew dizzy; but the constitutional firmness and fortitude of
the man clung to him in the stubborn mechanism of habit, his will yet
fought against his disease, life rallied as the light flickers up in the
waning taper.
The next morning, when Harley came into his friend's room, Egerton was
asleep. But the sleep seemed much disturbed; the breathing was hard and
difficult; the bed-clothes were partially thrown off, as if in the
tossing of disturbed dreams; the sinewy strong arm, the broad athletic
breast, were partly bare. Strange that so deadly a disease within should
leave the frame such apparent power that, to the ordinary eye, the
sleeping sufferer seemed a model of healthful vigour. One hand was
thrust with uneasy straining over the pillows,--it had its hold on the
fatal papers; a portion of the leaves was visible; and where the
characters had been blurred by Nora's tears, were the traces, yet moist,
of tears perhaps more bitter.
Harley felt deeply affected; and while he still stood by the bed, Egerton
sighed heavily and woke. He stared round him, as if perplexed and
confused, till his eyes resting on Harley, he smiled and said,
"So early! Ah, I remember, it is the day for our great boat-race. We
shall have the current against us; but you and I together--when did we
ever lose?"
Audley's mind was wandering; it had gone back to the old Eton days. But
Harley thought that he spoke in metaphorical allusion to the present more
important contest.
"True, my Audley,--you and I together--when did we ever lose? But will
you rise? I wish you would be at the polling-place to shake hands with
your voters as they come up. By four o'clock you will be released, and
the election won."
"The election! How! what!" said Egerton, recovering himself.
"I recollect now. Yes,--I accept this last kindness from you. I always
said I would die in harness. Public life--I have no other. Ah, I dream
again! Oh, Harley my son, my son!"
"You shall see him after four o'clock. You will be proud of each other.
But make haste and dress. Shall I ring the bell for your servant?"
"Do," said Egerton, briefly, and sinking back. Harley quitted the room,
and joined Randal and some of the more important members of the Blue
Committee, who were already hurrying over their breakfast.
All were anxious and nervous except Harley, who dipped his dry toast into
his coffee, according to his ordinary abstemious Italian habit, with
serene composure. Randal in vain tried for an equal tranquillity. But
though sure of his election, there would necessarily follow a scene
trying to the nerve of his hypocrisy. He would have to affect profound
chagrin in the midst of vile joy; have to act the part of decorous high-
minded sorrow, that by some untoward chance, some unaccountable cross-
splitting, Randal Leslie's gain should be Audley Egerton's loss.
Besides, he was flurried in the expectation of seeing the squire, and
of appropriating the money which was to secure the dearest object of his
ambition. Breakfast was soon despatched. The Committee-men, bustling
for their hats, and looking at their watches, gave the signal for
departure; yet no Squire Hazeldean had made his appearance. Harley,
stepping from the window upon the terrace, beckoned to Randal, who took
his hat and followed.
"Mr. Leslie," said Harley, leaning against the balustrade, and carelessly
patting Nero's rough, honest head, "you remember that you were good
enough to volunteer to me the explanation of certain circumstances in
connection with the Count di Peschiera, which you gave to the Duke di
Serrano; and I replied that my thoughts were at present engaged on the
election, but as soon as that was over, I should be very willing to
listen to any communications affecting yourself and my old friend the
duke, with which you might be pleased to favour me."
This address took Randal by surprise, and did not tend to calm his
nerves. However, he replied readily,
"Upon that, as upon any other matter that may influence the judgment you
form of me, I shall be but too eager to remove a single doubt that, in
your eyes, can rest upon my honour."
"You speak exceedingly well, Mr. Leslie; no man can express himself more
handsomely; and I will claim your promise with the less scruple because
the duke is powerfully affected by the reluctance of his daughter to
ratify the engagement that binds his honour, in case your own is
indisputably cleared. I may boast of some influence over the young lady,
since I assisted to save her from the infamous plot of Peschiera; and the
duke urges me to receive your explanation, in the belief that, if it
satisfy me, as it has satisfied him, I may conciliate his child in favour
of the addresses of a suitor who would have hazarded his very life
against so redoubted a duellist as Peschiera."
"Lord L'Estrange," replied Randal, bowing, "I shall indeed owe you much
if you can remove that reluctance on the part of my betrothed bride,
which alone clouds my happiness, and which would at once put an end to my
suit, did I not ascribe it to an imperfect knowledge of myself, which I
shall devote my life to improve into confidence and affection."
"No man can speak more handsomely," reiterated Harley, as if with
profound admiration; and indeed he did eye Randal as we eye some rare
curiosity. "I am happy to inform you, too," continued L'Estrange, "that
if your marriage with the Duke of Serrano's daughter take place--"
"If!" echoed Randal.
"I beg pardon for making an hypothesis of what you claim the right to
esteem a certainty,--I correct my expression: when your marriage with
that young lady takes place, you will at least escape the rock on which
many young men of ardent affections have split at the onset of the grand
voyage. You will form no imprudent connection. In a word, I received
yesterday a despatch from Vienna, which contains the full pardon and
formal restoration of Alphonso, Duke di Serrano. And I may add, that the
Austrian government (sometimes misunderstood in this country) is bound by
the laws it administers, and can in no way dictate to the duke, once
restored, as to the choice of his son-in-law, or as to the heritage that
may devolve on his child."
"And does the duke yet know of his recall?" exclaimed Randal, his cheeks
flushed and his eyes sparkling.
"No. I reserve that good news, with other matters, till after the
election is over. But Egerton keeps us waiting sadly. Ah, here comes
his valet."
Audley's servant approached. "Mr. Egerton feels himself rather more
poorly than usual, my Lord; he begs you will excuse his going with you
into the town at present. He will come later if his presence is
absolutely necessary."
"No. Pray tell him to rest and nurse himself. I should have liked him
to witness his own triumph,--that is all. Say I will represent him at
the polling-place. Gentlemen, are you ready? We will go on."
The polling booth was erected in the centre of the marketplace. The
voting had already commenced; and Mr. Avenel and Leonard were already at
their posts, in order to salute and thank the voters in their cause who
passed before them. Randal and L'Estrange entered the booth amidst loud
hurrahs, and to the national air of "See the Conquering Hero comes." The
voters defiled in quick succession. Those who voted entirely according
to principle or colour--which came to much the same thing--and were
therefore above what is termed "management," flocked in first, voting
straightforwardly for both Blues or both Yellows. At the end of the
first half-hour the Yellows were About ten ahead of the Blues. Then
sundry split votes began to perplex conjecture as to the result; and
Randal, at the end of the first hour, had fifteen majority over Audley
Egerton, two over Dick Avenel, Leonard Fairfield heading the poll by
five. Randal owed his place in the lists to the voters that Harley's
personal efforts had procured for him; and he was well pleased to see
that Lord L'Estrange had not withdrawn from him a single promise so
obtained. This augured well for Harley's ready belief in his appointed
"explanations." In short, the whole election seemed going just as he had
calculated. But by twelve o'clock there were some changes in the
relative position of the candidates. Dick Avenel had gradually gained
ground,--passing Randal, passing even Leonard. He stood at the head of
the poll by a majority of ten. Randal came next. Audley was twenty
behind Randal, and Leonard four behind Audley. More than half the
constituency had polled, but none of the Committee on either side, nor
one of the redoubted corps of a Hundred and Fifty.
The poll now slackened sensibly. Randal, looking round, and longing for
an opportunity to ask Dick whether he really meant to return himself
instead of his nephew, saw that Harley had disappeared; and presently a
note was brought to him requesting his presence in the Committee-room.
Thither he hastened.
As he forced his way through the bystanders in the lobby, towards the
threshold of the room, Levy caught hold of him and whispered, "They begin
to fear for Egerton. They want a compromise in order to secure him.
They will propose to you to resign, if Avenel will withdraw Leonard.
Don't be entrapped. L'Estrange may put the question to you; but--a word
in your ear--he would be glad enough to throw over Egerton. Rely upon
this, and stand firm."
Randal made no answer, but, the crowd giving way for him, entered the
room. Levy followed. The doors were instantly closed. All the Blue
Committee were assembled. They looked heated, anxious, eager. Lord
L'Estrange, alone calm and cool, stood at the head of the long table.
Despite his composure, Harley's brow was thoughtful. "Yes," said he to
himself, "I will give this young man the fair occasion to prove gratitude
to his benefactor; and if he here acquit himself, I will spare him, at
least, public exposure of his deceit to others. So young, he must have
some good in him,--at least towards the man to whom he owes all."
"Mr. Leslie," said L'Estrange, aloud, "you see the state of the poll.
Our Committee believe that, if you continue to stand, Egerton must be
beaten. They fear that, Leonard Fairfield having little chance, the
Yellows will not waste their second votes on him, but will transfer them
to you, in order to keep out Egerton. If you retire, Egerton will be
safe. There is reason to suppose that Leonard would, in that case, also
be withdrawn."
"You can hope and fear nothing more from Egerton," whispered Levy. "He
is utterly ruined; and, if he lose, will sleep in a prison. The bailiffs
are waiting for him."
Randal was still silent, and at that silence an indignant murmur ran
through the more influential members of the Committee. For, though
Audley was not personally very popular, still a candidate so eminent was
necessarily their first object, and they would seem very small to the
Yellows, if their great man was defeated by the very candidate introduced
to aid him,--a youth unknown. Vanity and patriotism both swelled that
murmur. "You see, young sir," cried a rich, blunt master-butcher, "that
it was an honourable understanding that Mr. Egerton was to be safe. You
had no claim on us, except as fighting second to him. And we are all
astonished that you don't say at once, 'Save Egerton, of course.' Excuse
my freedom, sir. No time for palaver."
"Lord L'Estrange," said Randal, turning mildly from the butcher, "do you,
as the first here in rank and influence, and as Mr. Egerton's especial
friend, call upon me to sacrifice my election, and what appear to be the
inclinations of the majority of the constituents, in order to obtain what
is, after all, a doubtful chance of returning Mr. Egerton in my room?
"I do not call upon you, Mr. Leslie. It is a matter of feeling or of
honour, which a gentleman can very well decide for himself."
"Was any such compact made between your Lordship and myself, when you
first gave me your interest and canvassed for me in person?"
"Certainly not. Gentlemen, be silent. No such compact was mentioned by
me."
"Neither was it by Mr. Egerton. Whatever might be the understanding
spoken of by the respected elector who addressed me, I was no party to
it. I am persuaded that Mr. Egerton is the last person who would wish
to owe his election to a trick upon the electors in the midst of the
polling, and to what the world would consider a very unhandsome treatment
of myself, upon whom all the toil of the canvass has devolved."
Again the murmur rose; but Randal had an air so determined, that it
quelled resentment, and obtained a continued, though most chilling and
half-contemptuous hearing.
"Nevertheless," resumed Randal, "I would at once retire were I not under
the firm persuasion that I shall convince all present, who now seem to
condemn me, that I act precisely according to Mr. Egerton's own private
inclinations. That gentleman, in fact, has never been amongst you, has
not canvassed in person, has taken no trouble, beyond a speech, that was
evidently meant to be but a general defence of his past political career.
What does this mean? Simply that his standing has been merely a form, to
comply with the wish of his party, against his own desire."
The Committee-men looked at each other amazed and doubtful. Randal saw
he had gained an advantage; he pursued it with a tact and ability which
showed that, in spite of his mere oratorical deficiencies, he had in him
the elements of a dexterous debater. "I will be plain with you,
gentlemen. My character, my desire to stand well with you all, oblige me
to be so. Mr. Egerton does not wish to come into parliament at present.
His health is much broken; his private affairs need all his time and
attention. I am, I may say, as a son to him. He is most anxious for my
success; Lord L'Estrange told me but last night, very truly, 'more
anxious for my success than his own.' Nothing could please him more than
to think I were serving in parliament, however humbly, those great
interests which neither health nor leisure will, in this momentous
crisis, allow himself to defend with his wonted energy. Later, indeed,
no doubt, he will seek to return to an arena in which he is so
distinguished; and when the popular excitement, which produces the
popular injustice of the day, is over, what constituency will not be
proud to return such a man? In support and proof of what I have thus
said, I now appeal to Mr. Egerton's own agent,--a gentleman who, in spite
of his vast fortune and the rank he holds in society, has consented to
act gratuitously on behalf of that great statesman. I ask you, then,
respectfully, Baron Levy, Is not Mr. Egerton's health much broken,
and in need of rest?"
"It is," said Levy.
"And do not his affairs necessitate his serious and undivided attention?"
"They do indeed," quoth the baron. "Gentlemen, I have nothing to urge in
behalf of my distinguished friend as against the statement of his adopted
son, Mr. Leslie."
"Then all I can say," cried the butcher, striking his huge fist on the
table, "is, that Mr. Egerton has behaved d---d unhandsome to us, and we
shall be the laughing-stock of the borough."
"Softly, softly," said Harley. "There is a knock at the door behind.
Excuse me."
Harley quitted the room, but only for a minute or two. On his return he
addressed himself to Randal.
"Are we then to understand, Mr. Leslie, that your intention is not to
resign?"
"Unless your Lordship actually urge me to the contrary, I should say, Let
the election go on, and all take our chance. That seems to me the fair,
manly, ENGLISH [great emphasis on the last adjective], honourable
course."
"Be it so," replied Harley;" 'let all take their chance.' Mr. Leslie,
we will no longer detain you. Go back to the polling-place,--one of the
candidates should be present; and you, Baron Levy, be good enough to go
also, and return thanks to those who may yet vote for Mr. Egerton."
Levy bowed, and went out arm-in-arm with Randal. "Capital, capital,"
said the baron. "You have a wonderful head."
"I did not like L'Estrange's look, nevertheless. But he can't hurt me
now; the votes he got for me instead of for Egerton have already polled.
The Committee, indeed, may refuse to vote for me; but then there is
Avenel's body of reserve. Yes, the election is virtually over. When we
get back, Hazeldean will have arrived with the money for the purchase of
my ancestral property; Dr. Riccabocca is already restored to the estates
and titles of Serrano; what do I care further for Lord L'Estrange?
Still, I do not like his look."
"Pooh, you have done just what he wished. I am forbidden to say more.
Here we are at the booth. A new placard since we left. How are the
numbers? Avenel forty ahead of you; you thirty above Egerton; and
Leonard Fairfield still last on the poll. But where are Avenel and
Fairfield?" Both those candidates had disappeared, perhaps gone to
their own Committee-room.
Meanwhile, as soon as the doors had closed on Randal and the baron, in
the midst of the angry hubbub succeeding to their departure, Lord
L'Estrange sprang upon the table. The action and his look stilled every
sound.
"Gentlemen, it is in our hands to return one of our candidates, and to
make our own choice between the two. You have heard Mr. Leslie and Baron
Levy. To their statement I make but this reply,--Mr. Egerton is needed
by the country; and whatever his health or his affairs, he is ready to
respond to that call. If he has not canvassed, if he does not appear
before you at this moment, the services of more than twenty years plead
for him in his stead. Which, then, of the two candidates do you choose
as your member,--a renowned statesman, or a beardless boy? Both have
ambition and ability; the one has identified those qualities with the
history of a country, and (as it is now alleged to his prejudice) with a
devotion that has broken a vigorous frame and injured a princely fortune.
The other evinces his ambition by inviting you to prefer him to his
benefactor, and proves his ability by the excuses he makes for
ingratitude. Choose between the two,--an Egerton or a Leslie."
"Egerton forever!" cried all the assembly, as with a single voice,
followed by a hiss for Leslie.
"But," said a grave and prudent Committee-man, "have we really the
choice? Does not that rest with the Yellows? Is not your Lordship too
sanguine?"
"Open that door behind; a deputation from our opponents waits in the room
on the other side the passage. Admit them."
The Committee were hushed in breathless silence while Harley's order was
obeyed. And soon, to their great surprise, Leonard Fairfield himself,
attended by six of the principal members of the Yellow party, entered the
room.
LORD L'ESTRANGE.--"You have a proposition to make to us, Mr. Fairfield,
on behalf of yourself and Mr. Avenel, and with the approval of your
Committee?"
LEONARD (advancing to the table).--"I have. We are convinced that
neither party can carry both its candidates. Mr. Avenel is safe. The
only question is, which of the two candidates on your side it best
becomes the honour of this constituency to select. My resignation, which
I am about to tender, will free sufficient votes to give the triumph
either to Mr. Egerton or to Mr. Leslie."
"Egerton forever!" cried once more the excited Blues. "Yes, Egerton
forever!" said Leonard, with a glow upon his cheek. "We may differ from
his politics, but who can tell us those of Mr. Leslie? We may differ
from the politician, but who would not feel proud of the senator? A
great and incalculable advantage is bestowed on that constituency which
returns to parliament a distinguished man. His distinction ennobles the
place he represents, it sustains public spirit, it augments the manly
interest in all that affects the nation. Every time his voice hushes the
assembled parliament, it reminds us of our common country; and even the
discussion amongst his constituents which his voice provokes, clears
their perceptions of the public interest, and enlightens themselves,
from the intellect which commands their interests, and compels their
attention. Egerton, then, forever! If our party must subscribe to the
return of one opponent, let all unite to select the worthiest. My Lord
L'Estrange, when I quit this room, it will be to announce my resignation,
and to solicit those who have promised me their votes to transfer them to
Mr. Audley Egerton."
Amidst the uproarious huzzas which followed this speech, Leonard drew
near to Harley. "My Lord, I have obeyed your wishes, as conveyed to me
by my uncle, who is engaged at this moment elsewhere in carrying them
into effect."
"Leonard," said Harley, in the same undertone, "you have insured to
Audley Egerton what you alone could do,--the triumph over a perfidious
dependent, the continuance of the sole career in which he has hitherto
found the solace or the zest of life. He must thank you with his own
lips. Come to the Park after the close of the poll. There and then
shall the explanations yet needful to both be given and received."
Here Harley bowed to the assembly and raised his voice: "Gentlemen,
yesterday, at the nomination of the candidates, I uttered remarks that
have justly pained Mr. Fairfield. In your presence I wholly retract and
frankly apologize for them. In your presence I entreat his forgiveness,
and say, that if he will accord me his friendship, I will place him in my
esteem and affection side by side with the statesman whom he has given to
his country."
Leonard grasped the hand extended to him with both his own, and then,
overcome by his emotions, hurried from the room; while Blues and Yellows
exchanged greetings, rejoiced in the compromise that would dispel all
party irritation, secure the peace of the borough, and allow quiet men,
who had detested each other the day before, and vowed reciprocal injuries
to trade and custom, the indulgence of all amiable and fraternal
feelings--until the next general election.
In the mean while the polling had gone on slowly as before, but still to
the advantage of Randal. "Not two-thirds of the constituency will poll,"
murmured Levy, looking at his watch. "The thing is decided. Aha, Audley
Egerton! you who once tortured me with the unspeakable jealousy that
bequeaths such implacable hate; you who scorned my society, and called me
'scoundrel,' disdainful of the very power your folly placed within my
hands,--aha, your time is up! and the spirit that administered to your
own destruction strides within the circle to seize its prey!"
"You shall have my first frank, Levy," said Randal, "to enclose your
letter to Mr. Thornhill's solicitor. This affair of the election is
over; we must now look to what else rests on our hands."
"What the devil is that placard?" cried Levy, turning pale.
Randal looked, and right up the market-place, followed by an immense
throng, moved, high over the heads of all, a Yellow Board, that seemed
marching through the air, cometlike:--
Two o'clock p.m.
RESIGNATION OF FAIRFIELD.
------
YELLOWS!
Vote For
AVENEL AND EGERTON.
(Signed) Timothy Alljack
Yellow Committee Room.
"What infernal treachery is this?" cried Randal, livid with honest
indignation.
"Wait a moment; there is Avenel!" exclaimed Levy; and at the head of
another procession that emerged from the obscurer lanes of the town,
walked, with grave majesty, the surviving Yellow candidate. Dick
disappeared for a moment within a grocer's shop in the broadest part of
the place, and then culminated at the height of a balcony on the first
story, just above an enormous yellow canister, significant of the
profession and the politics of the householder. No sooner did Dick, hat
in hand, appear on this rostrum, than the two processions halted below,
bands ceased, flags drooped round their staves, crowds rushed within
hearing, and even the poll clerks sprang from the booth. Randal and Levy
themselves pressed into the throng. Dick on the balcony was the /Deus ex
machina/.
"Freemen and electors!" said Dick, with his most sonorous accents,
"finding that the public opinion of this independent and enlightened
constituency is so evenly divided, that only one Yellow candidate can be
returned, and only one Blue has a chance, it was my intention last night
to retire from the contest, and thus put an end to all bickerings and
ill-blood (Hold your tongues there, can't you!). I say honestly, I should
have preferred the return of my distinguished and talented young nephew--
honourable relation--to my own; but he would not hear of it, and talked
all our Committee into the erroneous but high-minded notion, that the
town would cry shame if the nephew rode into parliament by breaking the
back of the uncle." (Loud cheers from the mob, and partial cries of "We
'll have you both!")
"You'll do no such thing, and you know it; hold your jaw," resumed Dick,
with imperious good-humour. "Let me go on, can't you?--time presses. In
a word, my nephew resolved to retire, if, at two o'clock this day, there
was no chance of returning both of us; and there is none. Now, then, the
next thing for the Yellows who have not yet voted, is to consider how
they will give their second votes. If I had been the man to retire, why,
for certain reasons, I should have recommended them to split with
Leslie,--a clever chap, and pretty considerable sharp."
"Hear, hear, hear!" cried the baron, lustily.
"But I'm bound to say that my nephew has an opinion of his own,--as an
independent Britisher, let him be twice your nephew, ought to have; and
his opinion goes the other way, and so does that of our Committee."
"Sold!" cried the baron; and some of the crowd shook their heads, and
looked grave,--especially those suspected of a wish to be bought.
"Sold! Pretty fellow you with the nosegay in your buttonhole to talk of
selling! You who wanted to sell your own client,--and you know it.
[Levy recoiled.] Why, gentlemen, that's Levy the Jew, who talks of
selling! And if he asperses the character of this constituency, I stand
here to defend it! And there stands the parish pump, with a handle for
the arm of Honesty, and a spout for the lips of Falsehood!"
At the close of this magniloquent period, borrowed, no doubt, from some
great American orator, Baron Levy involuntarily retreated towards the
shelter of the polling-booth, followed by some frowning Yellows with very
menacing gestures.
"But the calumniator sneaks away; leave him to the reproach of his
conscience," resumed Dick, with a generous magnanimity.
"SOLD! [the word rang through the place like the blast of a trumpet]
Sold! No, believe me, not a man who votes for Egerton instead of
Fairfield will, so far as I am concerned, be a penny the better--
[chilling silence]--or [with a scarce perceivable wink towards the
anxious faces of the Hundred and Fifty who filled the background]--or a
penny the worse. [Loud cheers from the Hundred and Fifty, and cries of
'Noble!'] I don't like the politics of Mr. Egerton. But I am not only
a politician,--I am a MAN! The arguments of our respected Committee--
persons in business, tender husbands, and devoted fathers--have weight
with me. I myself am a husband and a father. If a needless contest be
prolonged to the last, with all the irritations it engenders, who
suffer?--why, the tradesman and the operative. Partiality, loss of
custom, tyrannical demands for house rent, notices to quit,--in a word,
the screw!"
"Hear, hear!" and "Give us the Ballot!"
"The Ballot--with all my heart, if I had it about me! And if we had the
Ballot, I should like to see a man dare to vote Blue. [Loud cheers from
the Yellows.] But, as we have not got it, we must think of our families.
And I may add, that though Mr. Egerton may come again into office, yet
[added Dick solemnly] I will do my best, as his colleague, to keep him
straight; and your own enlightenment (for the schoolmaster is abroad)
will show him that no minister can brave public opinion, nor quarrel with
his own bread and butter. [Much cheering.] In these times the
aristocracy must endear themselves to the middle and working class; and a
member in office has much to give away in the Stamps and Excise, in the
Customs, the Post Office, and other State departments in this rotten old-
--I mean this magnificent empire, by which he can benefit his
constituents, and reconcile the prerogatives of aristocracy with the
claims of the people,--more especially in this case, the people of the
borough of Lausmere. [Hear, hear!]
"And therefore, sacrificing party inclinations (since it seems that I can
in no way promote them) on the Altar of General Good Feeling, I cannot
oppose the resignation of my nephew,--honourable relation!--nor blind my
eyes to the advantages that may result to a borough so important to the
nation at large, if the electors think fit to choose my Right Honourable
brother--I mean the Right Honourable Blue candidate--as my brother
colleague. Not that I presume to dictate, or express a wish one way or
the other; only, as a Family Man, I say to you, Electors and Freemen,
having served your country in returning me, you have nobly won the right
to think of the little ones at home."
Dick put his hand to his heart, bowed gracefully, and retired from the
balcony amidst unanimous applause.
In three minutes more Dick had resumed his place in the booth in his
quality of candidate. A rush of Yellow electors poured in, hot and fast.
Up came Emanuel Trout, and, in a firm voice, recorded his vote, "Avenel
and Egerton." Every man of the Hundred and Fifty so polled. To each
question, "Whom do you vote for?" "Avenel and Egerton" knelled on the
ears of Randal Leslie with "damnable iteration." The young man folded
his arms across his breast in dogged despair. Levy had to shake hands
for Mr. Egerton with a rapidity that took away his breath. He longed to
slink away,--longed to get at L'Estrange, whom he supposed would be as
wroth at this turn in the wheel of fortune as himself. But how, as
Egerton's representative, escape from the continuous gripes of those
horny hands? Besides, there stood the parish pump, right in face of the
booth, and some huge truculent-looking Yellows loitered round it, as if
ready to pounce on him the instant he quitted his present sanctuary.
Suddenly the crowd round the booth receded; Lord L'Estrange's carriage
drove up to the spot, and Harley, stepping from it, assisted out of the
vehicle an old, gray-haired, paralytic man. The old man stared round
him, and nodded smilingly to the mob. "I'm here,-I'm come; I'm but a
poor creature, but I'm a good Blue to the last!"
"Old John Avenel,--fine old John!" cried many a voice.
And John Avenel, still leaning on Harley's arm, tottered into the booth,
and plumped for "Egerton."
"Shake hands, Father," said Dick, bending forward, "though you'll not
vote for me."
"I was a Blue before you were born," answered the old man, tremulously;
"but I wish you success all the same, and God bless you, my boy!"
Even the poll-clerks were touched; and when Dick, leaving his place, was
seen by the crowd assisting Lord L'Estrange to place poor John again in
the carriage, that picture of family love in the midst of political
difference--of the prosperous, wealthy, energetic son, who, as a boy, had
played at marbles in the very kennel, and who had risen in life by his
own exertions, and was now virtually M. P. for his native town, tending
on the broken-down, aged father, whom even the interests of a son he was
so proud of could not win from the colours which he associated with truth
and rectitude--had such an effect upon the rudest of the mob there
present, that you might have heard a pin fall,--till the carriage drove
away back to John's humble home; and then there rose such a tempest of
huzzas! John Avenel's vote for Egerton gave another turn to the
vicissitudes of that memorable election. As yet Avenel had been ahead of
Audley; but a plumper in favour of Egerton, from Avenel's own father, set
an example and gave an excuse to many a Blue who had not yet voted, and
could not prevail on himself to split his vote between Dick and Audley;
and, therefore, several leading tradesmen, who, seeing that Egerton was
safe, had previously resolved not to vote at all, came up in the last
hour, plumped for Egerton, and carried him to the head of the poll; so
that poor John, whose vote, involving that of Mark Fairfield, had secured
the first opening in public life to the young ambition of the unknown
son-in-law, still contributed to connect with success and triumph, but
also with sorrow, and, it may be, with death, the names of the high-born
Egerton and the humble Avenel.
The great town-clock strikes the hour of four; the returning officer
declares the poll closed; the formal announcement of the result will be
made later. But all the town knows that Audley Egerton and Richard
Avenel are the members for Lausmere. And flags stream, and drums beat,
and men shake each other by the hand heartily; and there is talk of the
chairing to-morrow; and the public-houses are crowded; and there is an
indistinct hubbub in street and alley, with sudden bursts of uproarious
shouting; and the clouds to the west look red and lurid round the sun,
which has gone down behind the church tower,--behind the yew-trees that
overshadow the quiet grave of Nora Avenel.