“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voters that Harley’s personal efforts had procured for him; and he was well pleased to see that Lord L’Estrange had not withdrawn from him a single promise so obtained.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.”