“To be sure it is. Young Massingbred is in, and a nice business it is.”

“Let me inform you, Mr. Crow, before you proceed further—” broke in Nelligan; but as he got so far, Colonel Massingbred laid his hand on his arm, and said, in a bland but steady voice, “Pray allow the gentleman to continue; his account promises to be most interesting.”

“Indeed, then, that's what it is not,” said Crow; “for I think it's all bad from beginning to end.” Another effort to interrupt by Nelligan being repressed by the Colonel, Crow resumed: “Everybody trying to cheat somebody else; the Martins wanting to cheat the borough, the borough wanting to jockey the Martins, and then young Massingbred humbugging them both! And there he is now, Member for Oughterard; and much he cares for them both.”

“Was there a contest, sir?” asked the Colonel, while by a gesture he enforced silence on Nelligan.

“As bitter a one as ever you saw in your life,” continued Simmy, quite flattered at the attention vouchsafed him; “for though the Martins put young Massingbred forward at first, they quarrelled with him before the day for the nomination,—something or other about the franchise, or Maynooth, or the Church Establishment. Sorra one o' me know much about these matters; but it was a serious difference, and they split about it! And after all their planning and conniving together, what do they do but propose Martin's son, the man in the dragoons, for the borough! Massingbred bids them do their worst, packs up, sets out for the town, and makes a speech exposing them all! The next morning he comes to the poll, with Joe's father there, and Peter Hayes, to propose and second him. Martin drives in with three elegant coaches and four, and tries to do the thing 'grand.' 'It's too late, sir; the people know their power,' as Father Neal told them; and, upon my conscience, I believe it's a most dangerous kind of knowledge. At all events, at it they go; and such fighting and murdering nobody ever saw before. There's not a whole pane of glass in the town, and many a skull cracked as well! One of the wickedest of the set was young Massingbred himself; he 'd assault the cars as they drove in, and tear out the chaps he thought were his own voters, in spite of themselves. He has the spirit of the devil in him! And then to hear how he harangued the people and abused the aristocracy. Maybe he did n't lay it on well! To be sure, the Martins drove him to it very hard. They called him a 'renegade' and a 'spy.' They ransacked everything they could get against his character, and at last declared that he had no qualification, and wasn't worth sixpence.”

“And how did he answer that?” cried the Colonel, who, fixing his eyes on the other, entirely engaged his attention.

“I 'll tell you how he did. Just producing the title-deeds of an estate that old Nelligan settled on him eight days before,—ay, and so well and securely that Counsellor Repton himself, with all his cuteness, could n't find a flaw in it. Repton said, in my own hearing, 'That 's the cleverest blackguard in Ireland!'”

“Mr. Crow—Crow, I say,” broke in young Nelligan.

“Pray don't interrupt him,” said the Colonel, in a tone that seemed to demand obedience; “I want to learn by what majority he gained the day.”

“Thirty-eight or thirty-nine; and there's only two hundred and odd in the borough. There may be, perhaps, a dozen of these to strike off on a petition; but he 's all safe after that.”