But it was long before Sir Robert would be persuaded. No, defeat or victory, he would fight to the last! He would be beholden to the other side for nothing! White, however, was an honest man and less afraid of his master than usual: and he held to it. And at length the reflection that the bargain would at least shut out his kinsman prevailed with Sir Robert, and he consented. He was too chivalrous to return on his own side the man whose success would fill his pockets. He elected for Wathen and never doubted that the Bowood interest would return their first love, Wrench. But when the landlord of the Blue Duck was brought up by agreement to vote for a candidate on either side, Pillinger voted by order for Wathen and Vaughan. “There’s some d——d mistake!” shrieked the Squire, as the words reached his ears. But there was no mistake, and to the silent disgust of the Tories and amid the frantic cheering of the Whigs, the return was made in favour of Sergeant John Wathen, and Arthur Vermuyden Vaughan, esquire. Loud and long was the cheering: the air was black with caps. But when the crowd sought for the two to chair them according to immemorial custom, only the Sergeant could be found, and he with great prudence declined the honour. XIX THE FRUITS OF VICTORY Arthur Vaughan could write himself Member of Parliament. The plaudits of the Academic and the mimic contests of the Debating Club were no longer for him. Fortune had placed within his grasp the prize of which he had often dreamt; and henceforth all lay open to him. But, as a contemporary in a letter written on a like occasion says, he had gone through innumerable horrors to reach the goal. And the moment the result was known and certain he slipped away from his place, and from the oppressive good-wishes of his new and uncongenial friends—the Williamses and the Blackfords; and shutting himself up in his rooms at the White Lion, where his entrance was regarded askance, he set himself to look the future in the face. He could not blame himself for the past, for he had done nothing of which he was ashamed. He had been put by circumstances in a false position, but he had freed himself frankly and boldly; and every candid man must acknowledge that he could not have done otherwise than he had. Yet he was aware that his conduct was open to misconstruction. Some, even on his own side, would say that he had gone to Chippinge prepared to support his kinsman; and that then, tempted by the opportunity of gaining the seat for himself, he had faced about. Few would believe the truth—that twenty-four hours before the election he had declined to stand. Still fewer would believe that in withdrawing his “No,” he had been wholly moved by the offer which Sir Robert had made to him and the unworthy manner in which he had treated him.