"It's easy to give back with your left hand half of what you robbed with your right," said he, in a low voice, that yet resounded like the murmur of distant thunder; "but it isn't what those who are struggling for freedom will care to see in their representative."
"Oh, I don't believe in a Radical party—here anyhow," said the squire, abruptly; "not even if you began to back the candidate, Maliphant."
"I shall not back the candidate," said father, grimly.
"No," laughed the squire. "He has done for himself with you over this right-of-way."
"When I see a man who declares he is going into Parliament on the people's side deliberately try to rob the people of their lawful possessions, I feel more than ever that the name of Radical is but a snare," said father.
His face had grown purple with emotion; his voice quivered with it; his hand shook.
I saw mother look at him anxiously, and I saw a sullen expression settle down upon Mr. Hoad's detested face.
"Now, Laban, don't go getting yourself into a heat," said mother, in her quiet, sensible voice. "You know how bad it is for your health, and it's unpleasant for all parties besides."
"I can't make head or tail of the Radicals myself," began the squire, who, it must be remembered, spoke ten years ago. But mother interrupted him.