“‘I have nothing to refuse, sir; alas! disdain has long been my only portion, Get up if you will.’
“‘But, said the astonished man, who was well-nigh deranged at the coolness of this reply, ‘but how am I to do so, if you sit there?”
“‘Sorry for any inconvenience I may cause you; but, in the crowded state of the hotel, I hope you see the impropriety of my walking about the passages in this costume?”
“‘And, great God! madam, why did you come out in it?’
“A cheer from the mob prevented her reply being audible. One o’clack tolled out from the great bell of the cathedral.
“‘There’s one o’clock, as I live!’
“‘I heard it,’ said the lady. _
“‘Tho shouts are increasing, What is that I hear? Butler is in? Gracious mercy! is the election over?’
“The lady stepped to the window, drew aside the curtain, and said, ‘Indeed, it would appear so; the mob are chairing Mr. Butler.’ [A deafening shout burst from the street.] ‘Perhaps you’d like to see the fun, so I’ll not detain you any longer. So good-bye, Mr. Calvert; and, as your breakfast will be cold, in all likeliheed, come down to No. 4, for Sir Harry’s a late man, and will be glad to see you.”
Chapter XI
An Adventure
As thus we lightened the road with chatting, the increasing concourse of people, and the greater throng of carriages that filled the road, announced that we had nearly reached our destination,
“Considine,” said my uncle, riding up to where we were, ‘I have just got a few lines from Davern. It seems Bodkin’s people are afraid to como in: they know what they must expect, and if so, more than half of that barony is lost to our opponent.”
“Then he has no chance whatever.”
“He never had, in my opinion,” said Sir Harry.
“We’ll see soon,” said my uncle cheerfully, and rode to the post.
The remainder of the way was occupied in discussing the various possibilities of the election, into which I was rejoiced to find that defeat never entered.
In the goodly days I speak of, a county contest was a very different thing indeed from the tame and insipid farce that now passes under that name: where a briefless barrister, bullied by both sides, sits as assessor—a few drunken voters—a radical O’Connellite grocer—a demagogne priest—a deputy grand purple something from the Trinity College lodge, with some half-dozen followers shouting “to the devil with Peel, or down with Dens’,” form the whole corps de ballet. No, no; in the times I refer to the voters were some thousands in number, and the adverse parties took the field, far less dependent for success upon previous pledge or promise made them, than upon the actual stratagem of the day. Each went forth like a general to battle, sur-