unconcernedly together. The leading Blues mustered strongly on their part of the booth; elated undoubtedly, but with the feelings of men who have desperately fought their way, inch by inch, sword to sword, bayonet to bayonet, up to a point where they expect, nevertheless, momentarily to be blown into the air. What _could_ have become of the Quaint Club? thought _they_ also, with inward astonishment and apprehension. Gammon continued standing, motionless and silent, with folded arms--his dark surtout buttoned carelessly at the top, and his hat slouched over his eyes, as if he sought to conceal their restlessness and agitation. Excitement, intense anxiety, and physical exhaustion, were visible in his countenance. He seemed indisposed to speak, even in answer to any one who addressed him. "O cursed Quaint Club!"--said he to himself--"O cursed Crafty! I am beaten--beaten hollow--ridiculously! How the miscreants have bubbled me! Crafty can now do without them, and won't endanger the election by polling them! We are ruined! And what will be said at headquarters, after what I have led them to believe--bah!" He almost stamped with the vehemence of his emotions. "There's certainly yet a resource; nay, but that also is too late--_a riot_--a nod, a breath of mine--those fine fellows there--would _down_ with hustings, and all the poll-books be destroyed!--No, no; it is not to be thought of--the time's gone by." It was now nearly a quarter past three o'clock. "It's passing strange!" thought Gammon, as he looked at his watch; "what can be in the wind? Not a single man of them been up for either party! Perhaps, after all, Lord De la Zouch may not have come up to their mark, and may now be merely standing on the chance of _our_ being unable to come to terms with them. But what can I do, without certain destruction, after what I have heard? It will be simply jumping down into the pit."--A thought suddenly struck him; and with forced calmness he slipped away from the polling-booth, and, with an affectation of indifference, made his way to a house where a trusty emissary awaited his orders. 'T was a Grilston man, a Yellow voter, as much at Gammon's beck and call as Ben Bran was represented to be at the command of Lord De la Zouch. Gammon despatched him on the following enterprise--viz. to rush alarmedly among the club, who knew _him_, but _not_ his _devotion to Gammon_--to tell them that he had just discovered, by mere accident, the frightful danger in which they were placed, owing to Mr. Gammon's being enraged against them on account of their last proposal--that he had now made up his mind to the loss of the election, and also to commence prosecutions for bribery against every single member of the club; for that, having early suspected foul play, he was in a position "to _nail_ every man of them," without fixing himself on Mr. Titmouse. If he succeeded thus far--viz. in alarming them--then, after apparently dire perplexity, he was suddenly to suggest