“Ill!” Sir Robert cried; “I should think he was, the scoundrel!” And he foamed over afresh, though we need not follow him. When he had cooled somewhat, “Well,” he said, “I can turn him out, and that I’ll do, neck and crop! By G—d, I will! I’ll ruin him. But there, it’s the big rats set the fashion and the little ones follow it. This is Spinning Jenny’s work. I wish I had cut off my hand before I voted for him. Well, well, well!” And he stood a moment in bitter contemplation of Sir Robert Peel’s depravity. It was nothing that Sir Robert was sound on reform. By adopting the Catholic side on the claims he—he, whose very nickname was Orange Peel—had rent the party. And all these evils were the result! The agent coughed. Sir Robert, who was no fool, looked sharply at him. “What!” he said grimly. “Not another renegade?” “No, sir,” White answered timidly. “But Thrush, the pig-killer—he’s one of the old lot, the Cripples, that your father put into the corporation——” “Ay, and I wish I had kept them cripples.” Sir Robert growled. “All cripples! My father was right, and I was a fool to think better men would do as well, and do us credit. In his time there were but two of the thirteen could read and write; but they did as they were bid. They did as they were bid. And now—well, man, what of Thrush?” “He was gaoled yesterday by Mr. Forward, of Steynsham, for assault.” “For how long?” “For a fortnight, sir.” Sir Robert nearly had a fit. He reared himself to his full height, and glared at White. “The infernal rascal!” he cried. “He did it on purpose!” “I’ve no doubt, sir, that it determined them to fight,” the agent answered. “With Dyas they are five. And five to seven is not such—such odds that they may not have some hope of winning.” “Five to seven!” Sir Robert repeated; and at an end of words, at an end of oaths, could only stare aghast. “Five to seven!” he muttered. “You’re not going to tell me—there’s something more.” “No, sir, no; that’s the worst,” White answered, relieved that his tale was told. “That’s the worst, and may be bettered. I’ve thought it well to postpone the nomination until Wednesday the 4th, to give Sergeant Wathen a better chance of dealing with Dyas.” “Well, well!” Sir Robert muttered. “It has come to that. It has come to dealing with such men as butchers, to treating them as if they had minds to alter and views to change. Well, well!” And that was all Sir Robert could say. And so it was settled; the Vermuyden dinner for the 2nd, the nomination and polling for the 4th. “You’ll let Mr. Vaughan know,” Sir Robert concluded. “It’s well we can count on somebody.” X THE QUEEN’S SQUARE ACADEMY FOR YOUNG LADIES