to my borough of Frailtown.’
‘I cannot help it,’ said Mr. Probe; ‘the borough is open to any candidate.’
‘Do you say so, sir? have not I paid for my seat?’
‘Well, sir, if you have, haven’t you your seat?’
‘But, sir, have not I a right of pre-emption for the next Parliament?’
‘I don’t recollect that, sir; nothing was said on that head, and of course I could not but do the best for the corporation, with my Lord’s permission.’
‘And why did you not come to me, sir, before you went to this Mr. Gabblon? – I see very well that I have been cheated of my money.’
Upon my saying which he bounced up like a pea in a frying-pan, and said, with a loud voice and a red face, that he didn’t know what I meant.
‘I thought, Mr. Probe,’ replied I, with a calm sough, ‘that you were a man of more sagacity; but not to waste words, I would just ask if Mr. Gabblon is the new candidate?’
‘He is,’ said Mr. Probe calmly; ‘and as I am engaged for his interest, you must excuse me for not answering more questions.’
I was dumfoundered to hear a man thus openly proclaim his malefactions, and I turned on my heel and came out of the writing-rooms, a most angry man; and so, instead of returning to the House of Commons, I went straight to the neighbouring chambers of Mr. Tough, a solicitor, whom I had observed in a committee as a most pugnacious man, and of whom I said to myself that if ever the time came that I stood in need of an efficacious instrument in a contest, he was the man for my money. Most felicitously, Mr. Tough was within, and also alone; and I said to him with a civil smile, ‘that I thought it would not be long before I would need his helping hand. You see, Mr. Tough,’ said I, ‘that not being entirely well acquainted with the usages of Parliament, I had not thought proper to make a stipulation with the agent of my borough to give me the first offer at the next election; and, in consequence, he became susceptible – you understand – and has gone over to the side of another candidate: now I want you to be my adviser on the occasion.’
Mr. Tough said he was much obliged to me, and that I would not in him put faith in a broken reed. ‘But on what ground do you intend to canvass the borough, for much of your chance of success will depend on that?’
‘Mr. Tough, I am but a ’prentice in the craft of Parliament, and cannot advise a man of your experience; but last year I had gotten a good repute there for a piece of honest business that I did concerning the post-office, by which I made an arrangement most satisfactory to the public, and far better than was expected for the behoof of those more immediately concerned.’
‘Oh, I heard something of that, and that Mr. Spicer had vowed revenge for the way you had caused a short coming to his son-in-law.’
‘Yes, Mr. Tough, I understand that for the pains I took to get his gude son that office, which he represented to me was worth nothing, he has rebelled against me; now, as in that affair ye will allow I acted a very public-spirited part, it is not to be supposed that all the corporation will be of his way of thinking.’
‘You have, Mr. Jobbry, come to me in the proper time; a few days later and all had been lost. But we must bestir ourselves. If you are intent to gain the borough again, you must make a stir this very night; though it is to me a great inconvenience, we must set off together for Frailtown, and pay our respects to the leading members of the corporation; and, to shew our independence, let me suggest to you that our backs must be turned on this Mr. Spicer, who certainly has merited the greatest contempt for his conduct.’
The corruption of my nature being up, this advice was very congenial; and I told him to get a chaise, and to come to me at my lodgings by nine o’clock that night, and in the course of the journey we would have time to lay our heads together, and concert in what manner it would be best to proceed.
Accordingly, as there is nothing like despatch and secrecy in getting the weather-gauge of your opponent in an election, I went from Mr. Tough’s office to the House of Commons, and was there before five o’clock, by which expedition no one suspected where I could have been; and I remained in the House, taking my chop upstairs, and shewing myself well to every one about, so that none could think I was meditating an evasion. I saw Mr. Gabblon sitting, well pleased, on the Opposition side; poor, infatuated young man, little suspecting the sword that was hanging by a single hair over his devoted head. Others of my friends saw something of a change about me, and came asking what stroke of good fortune had come to pass that I was looking so blithe and bright? and my answer to them was most discreet, knowing that it was commonly thought I intended to retire from Parliament when the session was over. I said to them that I was only glad to see our weary labours and drowsy night-work drawing to a close; and that Parliament, which I had chosen, in a great mistake, as a place of recreation, had proved far otherwise. Thus it came to pass, that after ‘biding in this ostentatious manner in the House till past eight o’clock, I slipped quietly out, and hastening home to my lodgings in Manchester Buildings, had just time to get my valise made ready, when Mr. Tough, in the post-chaise, came to the door, and sent up his name. Down I went to him with the valise in my hand – in I jumped beside him – and away we went. But clever and alert as I was, when the chaise was driving out of Cannon Street, a fire-engine, with watermen and torches thereon, stopped us a little while; and, as it was passing, the flare of the torches cast a wild light in upon us, and, to my consternation, there, in the crowd, did I see the red face and the gleg eyes of Mr. Probe, who was standing on the pavement and looking me full in the face, with Mr. Tough beside me. This was, to be sure, an astounding thing, and I told Mr. Tough of the same; but he made no remark further than saying to the post-boy, in a voice loud enough for Mr. Probe to hear, ‘Drive straight to the Elephant and Castle.’ This was a souple trick of Mr. Tough, for it was quite in an opposite direction to where we intended to go; and, as we drove along, when we came to the obelisk in St. George’s Fields, he again directed the post-boy to make all the haste he could over Blackfriar’s Bridge, and get to the north road with the utmost expedition.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
In the course of the journey to Frailtown, we arranged together a very expedient system; and, as Mr. Tough said, ‘we could not but succeed’. He was really a very clever and dexterous man, and I was so content with what he advised, that, being somewhat fatigued on the second night, I proposed that we should sleep at Beverington, which is a stage short of Frailtown, and which, being a considerable manufacturing town, has a much more commodious inn. To be sure, we might have gone to the hotel at Physickspring, a most capital house; but I had understood that the sedate inhabitants of the borough had no very affectionate consideration for that hotel; and therefore, as it was my business not to give offence to them, I thought it would be just as well to sleep at Beverington, and go on betimes in the morning to the borough.
Accordingly we did so; and in the morning we resumed the remainder of the road, and were not a little surprised, when we were crossing the bridge of Frailtown, to hear vast shouts and huzzas rising from the heart of the town, and to see all hands, young and old, clodpoles and waggoners, all descriptions of persons, wearing purple and orange cockades, and bellowing, like idiots, ‘Gabblon for ever!’
My heart was daunted by the din, and Mr. Tough was just a provocation by his laughter; especially when, before we got to the Royal Oak Inn, in the market-place, we met a great swarm of the ragamuffins drawing Mr. Gabblon and that ne’er-do-weel Probe, in their postchaise, in triumph, without the horses. The latter, limb of Satan, as he was, had suspected our journey, and had gone immediately to his client; off at once they came from London, and while we, like the foolish virgins, were slumbering and sleeping at Beverington, they had passed on to Frailtown, and created all this anarchy and confusion.
But the mischief did not end with that. The ettercap Probe, on seeing us, shouted in derision, and the whole mob immediately began to halloo and yell at us in such a manner, flinging dirt and unsavoury missiles at us, that we were obliged to pull up the blinds, and drive to the inn in a state of humiliation and darkness. To speak with decorum of this clever stratagem of the enemy, we were, in fact, greatly down in the