“Must he not press its claims and support its interests?” he persisted gallantly. “Ay, sir, welcome in the event of success a decision at once just, and of so much advantage, I will not say to himself——”
“It never will be to you!” shrieked a voice from the darker corner under the opposite gallery.
The shaft went home. He faltered. A roar of laughter drowned his last words, and he sat down with a burning face; in some confusion, but in greater perplexity. Had he transgressed, he wondered ruefully, some unwritten law of the House! Had he offended in ignorance, and persisted in his offence? Should he not, though Wathen had spoken, have spoken in his own case? In a matter so nearly touching himself?
He spoke to the Member who chanced to sit next him. “What was it?” he asked humbly. “Did I do something wrong?”
The man glanced at him coldly. “Oh, no,” he said. And he shrugged his shoulders.
“But——”
“On the contrary, I fancy you’ve to congratulate yourself,” with a sneer so faint that Vaughan did not perceive it. “I understand that we’re to do as we like on this—and they know it on the other side. Eh? Yes, there’s the division. I think,” he added with the same faint sneer, “you’ll save your seat.”
“By Jove!” Vaughan exclaimed. “You don’t say so!”
He could hardly believe it. But so it turned out. And so great was the boon—the greater as no other borough was transferred in Committee—that it swept away for the time the memory of what had happened. His eyes sparkled. The seat saved, it was odd if with the wider electorate created by the Bill, he was not sure of return! Still more odd, if he was not sure of beating Wathen—he, who had opened the borough and been returned by the Whig interest even while it was closed! No longer need he feel so anxious and despondent when the Dissolution, which must follow the passage of the Bill, rose to his mind. No longer need he be in so great a hurry to make his mark, so envious of Mr. Macaulay, so jealous of Mr. Sadler.
Certainly as far as his political career was in question the horizon was clearing. If only other things had been as favourable! If only there had been someone, were it in a cottage at Hammersmith or in a dull street off Bloomsbury Square, to whom he might take home this piece of news; certain that other eyes would sparkle more brightly than his, and another heart beat quick with joy!