hours"....
"Lord!—you did!—did you really?"
"So help me–!" exclaimed the man, aghast.
"What's to be done?" quoth Ben, the perspiration bursting out all over his forehead. "We've been made the cursedest fools of by some one!—Hang me if I think the old beast at Fotheringham, or the young cub either, has ever meant"–
"What signifies it? It's all too late now."
"Isn't there any way—eh? To be sure, I own I thought we were pitched a leetle too high with Mr. Gam"–
"But he has you now, though; and you'll find he's a devil incarnate!—But stop, I see"—he seemed, as if a thought had suddenly glanced across his puzzled and alarmed mind—"I'll tell you how to do him, and save yourselves yet."
"O Lord!—eh?" exclaimed Ben, breathlessly.
"But are your men all together?"
"Oh ay! in five minutes' time we could all be on our way to the booth."
"Then don't lose a minute—or all's up forever!—Don't explain to them the fix they're in till it's all over—and if ever you tell 'em, or any one, the bit o' service I've"–
"Never, Thomas, so help me–!" quoth Ben, grasping his companion's hand, as in a vice.
"Off all of you to the booth, and poll for life and death, for Titmouse."
"What? Come—come, Master Thomas!"
"Ay, ay—you fool! Don't you see? Make him win the election, and then, in course, Gammon's no cause to be at you—he'll have got all he wants."
"My eyes!" exclaimed Ben, as he suddenly perceived the stroke of policy. He snapped his finger, buttoned his coat, popped out of the house—within a few moments he was in the midst of the club, who were all in a back yard, behind a small tavern which they frequented. "Now, lads!" he exclaimed with a wink of his eye. He took the yellow and the blue colors out of his bosom: returned the blue, and mounted the yellow: so in a trice did every one present, not one single question having been asked at Ben, in whom they had perfect confidence.
But, to return to Mr. Gammon. It was now a moment or two past the half hour—there was scarcely half an hour more before the election must close. The mob were getting sullen. The Quaint Club were being asked for—now with hisses, then with cheers. All eyes were on Gammon, who felt that they were. His face bore witness to the intensity of his emotions; he did not any longer even attempt to disguise his desperate disappointment. His nerves were strung to their highest pitch of tension; and his eye glanced incessantly, but half-closed, towards a corner house at a little distance; ah! that eye was suddenly lit up, as it were, with fire—never had been such an instantaneous change seen in a man's face before. He had at length caught the appointed signal; a man appeared at a window, and appeared accidentally to drop a little stick into the street. A mighty sigh escaped from the pent-up bosom of Gammon, and relieved him from a sense of suffocation. His feelings might have been compared to those excited in our great commander, when the Prussians made their appearance at Waterloo. The battle was won; defeat converted into triumph; but suddenly recollecting himself—aware that every muscle of his face was watched—he relapsed into his former gloom. Presently were heard the approaching sounds of music—nearer and nearer came the clash of cymbals, the clangor of trombone and trumpet, the roll of the drum;—all the crowd turned their faces towards the quarter whence the sounds came, and within a few seconds' time was seen turning the corner, full on its way to the booth, the banner of the Quaint Club, with yellow rosettes streaming from the top of each pole—yellow ribbons on every one's breast. The People's cause had triumphed! Their oppressors were prostrate! A wild and deafening shout of triumph burst from the crowd, as if they had been one man; and continued for several minutes intermingled with the inspiriting sounds of the noble air—"Rule Britannia!" played by the two bands, (that of Mr. Titmouse having instantly joined them.) On marched the club, two and two, arm in arm, with rapid step; their faces flushed with excitement and exultation—their hands vehemently shaken by the shouting crowd, who opened a broad lane for them up to the polling-booth. Oh, the contrast exhibited in the faces of those standing there! What gloom, what vexation, what despair, on the one hand—what signs of frantic excitement, joy, and triumph, on the other! "Titmouse!" cried the first member of the club, as he gave his vote; "Titmouse!" cried the second; "Titmouse!" cried the third; "Titmouse!" cried the fourth. The battle was won. Mr. Titmouse was in a majority, which went on increasing every minute, amid tremendous cheering. Mr. Gammon's face and figure would at that moment have afforded a study for a picture; the strongly repressed feeling of triumph yet indicating its swelling influence upon his marked and expressive countenance, where an accurate eye might have detected also the presence of deep anxiety. Again and again were his hands shaken by those near him—Mudflint, Bloodsuck, Woodlouse, Centipede, Going Gone, Ginblossom—as they enthusiastically gave him credit for the transcendent skill he had exhibited, and the glorious result it had secured. As the church clock struck four, the books were closed, and the election was declared at an end, with eighteen of Mr. Titmouse's voters yet unpolled! Within a few minutes afterwards, Mr. Going Gone hastily chalked upon the board, and held it up exultingly to the crowd,—
"Hurrah!—hurrah!—hip, hip, hip, hurrah!" burst from the crowd, while hands were upraised and whirled round, hats flung into the air, and every other mark of popular excitement exhibited. "Titmouse!—Titmouse!—Nine Times nine for Mr. Titmouse!" was called for, and responded to with thrilling and overpowering effect. The newly elected member, however, could not be pinched, or shaken, or roused, out of the drunken stupor into which, from the combined influence of liquor and excitement, he had sunk. To enable him to go through the responsible duties of the day—viz. bobbing his head every now and then to the worthy and independent electors who came to invest him with the proud character of their representative in the House of Commons—he had brought in his pocket a flask of brandy, which had been thrice replenished: in a word, the popular idol was decidedly not presentable: and under the impulse of strong emotion, Mr. Gammon, infinitely to the disgust of the Reverend Smirk Mudflint, who was charged up to his throat with combustible matter, and ready to go off at an instant's notice, stepped forward, and on removing his hat, was received with several distinct and long-continued rounds of applause. Silence having been at length partially restored—
"Yes, gentlemen," he commenced in an energetic tone, and with an excited and determined air and manner, "well may you utter those shouts of joy, for you have fought a noble fight, and won a glorious victory, (great cheering.) Your cause, the cause of freedom and good government, is triumphant over all opposition, (immense cheering.) The hideous forms of bigotry and tyranny are at this moment lying crushed and writhing, (vehement cheering rendered the rest of the sentence inaudible.) Gentlemen, truth and independence have this day met and overthrown falsehood and slavery, (cheers,) in spite of the monstrous weapons with which they came into the field, (groans)—bribery, (groans,) corruption, (groans,) intimidation, (hisses,) coercion, and treachery, (mingled groans and hisses.) But, gentlemen, thank God, all was in vain! (enthusiastic cheering.) I will not say that a defeated despot is at this moment sitting with sullen scowl in a neighboring castle, (tremendous shouts of applause;) all his schemes frustrated, all his gold scattered in vain, and trampled under foot by the virtuous electors whom he sought first to corrupt, and then degrade into slaves, (great cheering.) Gentlemen, let us laugh at his despair, (loud and prolonged laughter;) but let us rejoice like men, like freemen, that the degraded and execrable faction to which he belongs, is defeated, (cheering.) Gentlemen, if ever there was a contest in which public spirit and principle triumphed over public and private profligacy, this has been it; and by this time to-morrow, hundreds of constituencies will be told, as their own struggles are approaching, to—look at Yatton—to emulate her proud and noble example; and England will soon be enabled to throw off the hateful incubus that has so long oppressed her, (immense cheering.) But, gentlemen, you are all exhausted, (No! no! and vehement cheers;) Mr. Titmouse's friends are all exhausted after the great labor and excitement of this glorious day, and need repose, in order that on the morrow we may meet refreshed, to enjoy the