“Well,” Audley said slowly, “he might have done one thing worse. He might have stayed in and passed repeal himself!”
“Good G—d!” the lawyer cried, “Judas wouldn’t have done that! All he could do, he has done. He has let in corn from Canada, cattle from Heaven knows where, he has let in wool. All that he has done. But even he has a limit, my lord! Even he! The man who was returned to support the Corn Laws—to repeal them. Impossible!”
“Well?” Audley said. “There’ll be an election, I suppose?”
“The sooner the better,” Stubbs answered vengefully. “And we shall see what the country thinks of this. In Riddsley we’ve been ready for weeks—as you know, my lord. But a General Election? Gad! I only hope they will put up some one here, and we will give them such a beating as they’ve never had!”
Audley pondered. “I suppose Riddsley is safe,” he said.
“As safe as Burton Bridge, my lord!”
The other rattled the money in his pocket. “As long as you give them a lead, Stubbs, I suppose? But if you went over? What then?”
Stubbs opened his eyes. “Went over?” he ejaculated.
“Oh, I don’t mean,” my lord said airily, “that you’re not as staunch as Burton Bridge. But supposing you took the other side—it would make a difference, I suppose?”
“Not a jot!” the lawyer answered sturdily.