All day long the noise of battle rolled, and in the evening there was quite a thrill of excitement in the street. My excellent and friendly opponent and I sat on a low wall outside the polling station, and shook hands with our supporters as they filed by. I thought he was the favourite, but the ballot is as deceitful as the heart of man. At eight o’clock the poll was closed, and we adjourned to the Town Hall that the votes might be counted. It was a slow process, and I filled up the time by writing a report of the Lancashire enquiry, that was my last official act. The poll was declared about 9, and to the surprise of my supporters I was elected by a handsome majority. I was a Town Councillor! “Quod optanti divum promittere nemo Auderet, volvenda dies en attulit ultro,”[55] said a pedantic friend next day. After uproarious rejoicings, I walked home, and in the narrow street that leads the traveller eastward from out the ancient city I found my best supporters. They were all under the age of 15, and they seemed to have been waiting for me. In the dim light, I came all unsuspecting upon them expectant. “Three cheers for Mr. Kensley: Oorĩ, Oorĩ,” and I was in the midst of an innumerable multitude. Every child in the parish was there, and crowded round me. It was a personal victory for _them_: _their_ inspector had been elected, and to _them_ was the glory. Brawny mothers brought out babies in arms, and brandished them: “You examined me, Mr. Kensley: eh, I am glad.” The crowd yelled on F sharp, and the drums of my ears vibrated like telegraph wires in I know not what condition of the atmosphere. “Oorĩ, Oorĩ.” They surged round me up the narrow lane, and in at my gate, and up my modest drive, and on the doorstep, as I sought for the latchkey. It wanted little that they should enter like Bishop Hatto’s rats: “And in at the windows, and in at the door, And through the walls helter-skelter they pour; And down from the ceiling, and up through the floor, From the right, and the left, from behind and before--” But they paused, and I escaped the Bishop’s doom. Good-night, children; good-night, and good-bye. FOOTNOTES: [52] This was written in 1907. [53] This is not a lady’s name, but a synonym for the Isle of Man (Mannin). [54] Not wishing to be biographical, I omitted to mention that I kept on my house at Chester while in charge of Manchester. [55] “That, which no god dared promise to thy prayer, The wheel of time brings of its own accord.” THE END _Richard Clay & Sons, Limited, London and Bungay._ MACMILLAN’S NEW SHILLING LIBRARY _Globe 8vo. Cloth. 1s. net per Volume._ _TRAVEL, SPORT, AND ADVENTURE._ =THE MAN-EATERS OF TSAVO.= By Lieut.-Colonel J. H. Patterson. With over 100 Illustrations. =TALES OF OLD JAPAN.= By Lord Redesdale (A. B. Freeman-Mitford). Illustrated. =AT LAST.= By Charles Kingsley. Illustrated. =SOUTH SEA BUBBLES.= By The Earl and The Doctor.