"Now, gentlemen," I said, when I had answered Robin's anxious inquiries—I believe he loved the child almost as much as I did—"this misfortune has come at a bad time; but one thing is quite plain, and that is that I must go through with the election. I quite see that I am not my own master at present."
Cash looked immensely relieved. Evidently he had been afraid that I would throw up the sponge. Robin and Champion nodded a grave assent, and the latter said—
"You are right, Adrian. It's the only thing to do."
"That's true," said Cash. "I am sure you have our deepest sympathy, Mr Inglethwaite, but we can't possibly let you off on any account."
It was not a very happy way of putting it, but Cash was an election agent first and a man afterwards.
"It was bad enough your running away from the meeting to-night," he continued, in tones which he tried vainly to keep from sounding reproachful. "They'd have torn the benches up if Mr Fordyce hadn't let 'em have it straight. I'm afraid it will cost us votes to-morrow."
All this grated a good deal. I could hear Robin begin to breathe through his nose, and I knew that sign. I broke in—
"What did you say to them, Robin?"
"Say? I don't really know. I assured them that you must have some good reason for leaving in such a hurry, and persuaded them to keep quiet for a bit in case you came back. We put up a few more speakers, but the people got more and more out of hand; and finally, after about five minutes of Dubberley, they grew so riotous that we ended the meeting."
"They had every excuse," said I. "They considered themselves defrauded."