“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!”