“And you feel sure that the Squire cannot be coaxed into consent?” “No; but I feel sure that the Squire will be so choleric at the first intelligence, that Frank will not have the self-control necessary for coaxing; and, perhaps, before the Squire can relent upon this point, he may, by some accident, learn his grievances on another, which would exasperate him still more.” “Ay, I understand—the _post obit_?” Randal nodded. “And what then?” asked Levy. “The next of kin to the lands of Hazeldean may have his day.” The Baron smiled. “You have good prospects in that direction, Leslie: look now to another. I spoke to you of the borough of Lansmere. Your patron, Audley Egerton, intends to stand for it.” Randal’s heart had of late been so set upon other and more avaricious schemes, that a seat in Parliament had sunk into a secondary object; nevertheless, his ambitious and all-grasping nature felt a bitter pang, when he heard that Egerton thus interposed between himself and any chance of advancement. “So!” he muttered sullenly—“so. This man, who pretends to be my benefactor, squanders away the wealth of my forefathers—throws me penniless on the world; and, while still encouraging me to exertion and public life, robs me himself of—” “No!” interrupted Levy—“not robs you; we may prevent that. The Lansmere interest is not so strong in the borough as Dick Avenel’s.” “But I cannot stand against Egerton.” “Assuredly not—you may stand with him.” “How?” “Dick Avenel will never suffer Egerton to come in; and though he cannot, perhaps, carry two of his own politics, he can split his votes upon you.” Randal’s eyes flashed. He saw at a glance, that if Avenel did not overrate the relative strength of parties, his seat could be secured. “But,” he said, “Egerton has not spoken to me on such a subject; nor can you expect that he would propose to me to stand with him, if he foresaw the chance of being ousted by the very candidate he himself introduced.” “Neither he nor his party will anticipate that possibility. If he asks you, agree to stand—leave the rest to me.” “You must hate Egerton bitterly,” said Randal; “for I am not vain enough to think that you thus scheme but from pure love to me.” “The motives of men are intricate and complicated,” answered Levy, with unusual seriousness. “It suffices to the wise to profit by the actions, and leave the motives in shade.” There was silence for some minutes. Then the two drew closer towards each other, and began to discuss details in their joint designs.