“Oh, perfectly,” the Sergeant cried, hurriedly. “Perfectly!” And he muttered something about being glad—hear explanation—satisfactory. But the Irish Member stepped up and held out his hand. “Faith,” he said, “there’s no man whose word I’d take before Sir Charles’s! There’s no hiatus in his honour, whatever may be said of his breeches! That’s one for you,” he added, addressing Wetherell. “I owed you one, my good sir!” And then he turned to Vaughan. “There’s my hand, sir! I apologise,” he said. “You’re a man of honour, and it’s mistaken we were!” “I am obliged to you for your candour,” Vaughan said, gratefully. Half a dozen others raised their hats to him, or shook hands with him frankly. The Sergeant did the same less frankly. But Vaughan saw that he was cowed. Wetherell was Sir Robert Vermuyden’s friend, and the Sergeant was Sir Robert’s nominee. So he pushed his triumph no farther. With a feeling of gratitude too deep for words, he offered his arm to Sir Charles, and went down the Hall in his company. By this time the crowd at the lower end had carried their joy and their horseplay elsewhere; and no attempt was made—Vaughan only wished an attempt had been made—to molest Wetherell. They walked across the yard to Parliament Street, as the first sunshine of the day fell on the bridge and the river. Flocks of gulls were swinging to and fro in the clear air above the water, and dumb barges were floating up with the tide. The hub-bub in that part was past and over; at that moment a score of coaches were speeding through the suburbs, bearing to market-town and busy city, ay, and to village greens, where the news was awaited eagerly, the tidings that the Bill had passed the Lower House. Sir Charles walked a short distance in silence. Then, “I thought some notion of the kind was abroad,” he said. “It’s as well this happened. What are you going to do about your seat if the Bill pass, young man?” “I am told that it is pre-empted,” Vaughan answered, in a tone between jest and earnest. “It is. But——” “Yes, Sir Charles?” “You should see your own side about it,” Wetherell answered gruffly. “I can’t say more than that.” “I am obliged to you for that.”