"But a—a—really we shall be found out! The House suspects already that you and we"——
"Bah! bother! hubbabo! Propose you it; I get up and oppose it—vehemently, do you mind—an' the blackguards opposite will carry it for you, out of love for me, ah, ha!—Aisy, aisy—softly say I! Isn't that the way to get along?" and Mr. O'Gibbet winked his eye.
Mr. Flummery, however, looked unhappy, and remained silent and irresolute.
"Oh, my dear sir—exporrige frontem! Get along wid you, you know it's for your own good," said Mr. O'Gibbet; and shoving him on good-humoredly, left the lobby, while Mr. Flummery passed on, with a forced smile, to his seat. He continued comparatively silent, and very wretched, the whole night.
Two hours before the House broke up, but not till after Lord Bulfinch had withdrawn, Mr. Flummery, seizing his opportunity, got up to do the bidding, and eventually fulfilled the prophecy, of Mr. O'Gibbet, amid bitter and incessant jeers and laughter from the opposition.
"Another such victory and we're undone," said Mr. Flummery, with a furious whisper, soon afterwards to Mr. O'Gibbet.
"Och, go to the ould divil wid ye!" replied Mr. O'Gibbet, thrusting his tongue into his cheek, and moving off.
Now Titmouse had contrived to overhear almost every word of the above curious colloquy, and had naturally formed a prodigious estimate of Mr. O'Gibbet, and his influence in the highest quarters.—But to proceed.—Within a few minutes' time might have been seen Titmouse and O'Gibbet earnestly conversing together, remote from observation, in one of the passages leading from the lobby. Mr. O'Gibbet spoke all the while in a tone which at once solicited and commanded attention. "Sir, of course you know you've not a ghost of a chance of keeping your seat? I've heard all about it. You'll be beat, sir,—dead beat; will never be able to sit in this Parlimint, sir, for your own borough, and be liable to no end o' penalties for bribery, besides. Oh, my dear sir, how I wish I had been at your elbow! This would never have happened!"
"Oh, sir! 'pon my soul—I—I"—stammered Titmouse, quite thunderstruck at Mr. O'Gibbet's words.
"Hush—st—hush, wid your chattering tongue, sir, or we'll be overheard, and you'll be ruined," interrupted Mr. O'Gibbet, looking suspiciously around.