The news was already known at the enemy's headquarters. On the morning after the meeting at the Lion, Mr. Harrington, who had been duly informed of all that had taken place by a spy in whom he could place implicit confidence, walked over to Shuttleworth, the nearest telegraphic station, and thence despatched the following enigmatic message to his firm: "Brocksopp Stakes. Old Horse broken down in training. Our Colt will walk over." It happened that Mr. Potter was alone when this telegram arrived, and to him it was utterly unintelligible; but Mr. Fyfe, who came in shortly afterwards, and who was acquainted with and tolerant of the vagaries of his clerk's intellect, soon guessed at the situation, and explained it to his partner. So it fell out that the election for Brocksopp, which had attracted attention even amongst great people in the political world, and which was looked forward to with intense interest in the neighbourhood, passed off in the quietest and tamest manner. The mere fact of the knowledge that there was to be no opposition, no contest, robbed the nomination day of all its interest to hundreds of farmers in outlying places, who did not care to give up a day's work when there was to be no "scrimmage" as a requital for their sacrifice of time; and the affair was consequently thoroughly orderly and commonplace. There were comparatively few persons present, and five minutes after Joyce's speech, in which he returned thanks for the honour done to him, and alluded with much nice feeling to his late opponent's illness, had concluded, the market-square was deserted, and the clumsy hustings remained the sole memorial of the event to which so many had looked forward for so long.