“Hem!” said Randal, rather surlily. “In the first place, Sir John, ministers are not going out.” “Oh, yes, they will go. You know I vote with them generally, and would willingly keep them in; but they are men of honor and spirit; and if they can’t carry their measures, they must resign; otherwise, by Jove, I would turn round and vote them out myself!” “I have no doubt you would, Sir John; you are quite capable of it; that rests with you and your constituents. But even if ministers did go out, I am but a poor subaltern in a public office. I am no minister—why should I go out, too?” “Why? Hang it, Leslie, you are laughing at me. A young fellow like you could never be mean enough to stay in, under the very men who drove out your friend Egerton!” “It is not usual for those in the public offices to retire with every change of Government.” “Certainly not; but always those who are the relations of a retiring minister—always those who have been regarded as politicians, and who mean to enter Parliament, as of course you will do at the next election. But you know that as well as I do—you who are so decided a politician—the writer of that admirable pamphlet! I should not like to tell my friend Hazeldean, who has a sincere interest in you, that you ever doubted on a question of honor as plain as your A, B, C.” “Indeed, Sir John,” said Randal, recovering his suavity, while he inly breathed a dire anathema on his county member, “I am so new to these things, that what you say never struck me before. No doubt you must be right; at all events, I can not have a better guide and adviser than Mr. Egerton himself.” “No, certainly—perfect gentleman, Egerton! I wish we could make it up with him and Hazeldean.” RANDAL (sighing).—“Ah, I wish we could!” SIR JOHN.—“And some chance of it now; for the time is coming when all true men of the old school must stick together.” RANDAL.—“Wisely, admirably said, my dear Sir John. But pardon me, I must pay my respects to the embassador.” Randal escaped, and, passing on, saw the embassador himself in the next room, conferring in a corner with Audley Egerton. The embassador seemed very grave—Egerton calm and impenetrable, as usual. Presently the Count passed by, and the embassador bowed to him very stiffly. As Randal, some time later, was searching for his cloak below, Audley Egerton unexpectedly joined him. “Ah, Leslie,” said the minister with more kindness than usual, “if you don’t think the night air too cold for you, let us walk home together. I have sent away the carriage.” This condescension in his patron was so singular that it quite startled Randal, and gave him a presentiment of some evil. When they were in the street, Egerton, after a pause, began—