And the itinerant orator retreated, having first secured a trilling loan on the plea that his journey down to Sloville had quite cleaned him out, and that he had been disappointed of a remittance. No sooner had the orator departed than another arrival was announced. ‘A gentleman from London.’ The Hon. Algernon Smithson, a fellow-member with Wentworth of the Mausoleum Club, was his name. In he rushed, protesting that he had called at the club, that he had gone to Clifford’s Inn, that he had come on to Sloville, just to see how his friend was getting on. ‘And is that all?’ asked Wentworth. ‘Well, now you mention it, I don’t mind telling you,’ was the reply, ‘that our party are rather uncomfortable about the state of things here, and Twiss, of the Treasury, asked me if I could not have five minutes’ chat with you, and so, you see,’ said the Honourable, with a jolly laugh, or, rather, an attempt at it, ‘like the good-natured donkey that I am, I’ve let the cat out of the bag. Perhaps that is bad policy; but, then, you and I, Wentworth, are men of the world, and I like to be straightforward.’ In most quarters it was considered that the Hon. Smithson was rather a cunning old fox. ‘The fact is, you Government people don’t want an independent candidate. Is not that so?’ asked Wentworth. ‘Why, you see, my dear friend, the circumstances of the case are somewhat peculiar. We are rather hard pushed, as you know, in the House; parties are evenly balanced. Now, Sir Watkin has a good chance here, and his connections are very numerous in this part of the world. He is of an old Whig family.’ ‘Yes, I understand; he is to win the borough, and then to be repaid by a Government appointment. And if I throw him out?’ ‘Why, then we lose a safe man. You are a very good fellow, Wentworth, but, then, you are only to be depended on when the Government is right. You would desert us to-morrow if we went wrong.’ ‘I believe I should.’ ‘And if you go to the poll you let in a Tory. Think of that. Our party will never forgive you. There will be a mark against your name as long as you live.’ ‘I have an idea that there is something more important than the triumph of a party.’ ‘What is that?’ ‘The triumph of principle.’ ‘Ah, that is so like you, Wentworth!’ said the Hon. Smithson, laughing. ‘Men like you are always in the clouds. We wire-pullers are the only practical men.’ ‘And a pretty mess you’ve made of it. Now you’ve a Liberal Government on its last legs that four years ago had nearly a majority of a hundred.’ ‘I own it—and I own it with sorrow. But I am here on business. I have a proposition to make.’ ‘What is that?’ ‘That you arbitrate.’ ‘I am quite willing; but the question is, how to arbitrate, and that is rather a difficult one.’ ‘Not at all; it is the easiest thing in the world. Get a public meeting, admit an equal number of the supporters of each candidate, and abide by the result.’