Mr. Carlyle and Barbara were seated at breakfast, when, somewhat to their surprise, Mr. Dill was shown in. Following close upon his heels came Justice Hare; and close upon his heels came Squire Pinner; while bringing up the rear was Colonel Bethel. All the four had come up separately, not together, and all four were out of breath, as if it had been a race which should arrive soonest.
Quite impossible was it for Mr. Carlyle, at first, to understand the news they brought. All were talking at once, in the utmost excitement; and the fury of Justice Hare alone was sufficient to produce temporary deafness. Mr. Carlyle caught a word of the case presently.
"A second man? Opposition? Well, let him come on," he good-humoredly cried. "We shall have the satisfaction of ascertaining who wins in the end."
"But you have not heard who it is, Mr. Archibald," cried Old Dill, "It--"
"Stand a contest with /him/?" raved Justice Hare. "He--"
"The fellow wants hanging," interjected Colonel Bethel.
"Couldn't he be ducked?" suggested Squire Pinner.
Now all these sentences were ranted out together, and their respective utterers were fain to stop till the noise subsided a little. Barbara could only look from one to the other in astonishment.
"Who is this formidable opponent?" asked Mr. Carlyle.
There was a pause. Not one of them but had the delicacy to shrink from naming that man to Mr. Carlyle. The information came at last from Old Dill, who dropped his voice while he spoke it.
"Mr. Archibald, the candidate who has come forward, is that man Levison."
"Of course, Carlyle, you'll go into it now, neck and crop," cried Justice Hare.
Mr. Carlyle was silent.
"You won't let the beast frighten you from the contest!" uttered Colonel Bethel in a loud tone.
"There's a meeting at the Buck's Head at ten," said Mr. Carlyle, not replying to the immediate question. "I will be with you there."
"Did you not say, Mr. Dill, that was where the scoundrel Levison is--at the Buck's Head?"
"He was there," answered Mr. Dill. "I expect he is ousted by this time. I asked the landlord what he thought of himself, for taking in such a character, and what he supposed the justice would say to him.
He vowed with tears in his eyes that the fellow should not be there another hour, and that he should never have entered it, had he known who he was."
A little more conversation, and the visitors filed off. Mr. Carlyle sat down calmly to finish his breakfast. Barbara approached him.
"Archibald, you will not suffer this man's insolent doings to deter you from your plans--you will not withdraw?" she whispered.
"I think not, Barbara. He has thrust himself offensively upon me in this measure; I believe my better plan will be to take no more heed of him than I should of the dirt under my feet."
"Right--right," she answered, a proud flush deepening the rose on her cheeks.
Mr. Carlyle was walking into West Lynne. There were the placards, sure enough, side by side with his own, bearing the name of that wicked coward who had done him the greatest injury one man can do to another.
Verily, he must possess a face of brass to venture there.
"Archibald, have you heard the disgraceful news?"
The speaker was Miss Carlyle, who had come down upon her brother like a ship with all sails set. Her cheeks wore a flush; her eyes glistened; her tall form was drawn up to its most haughty height.
"I have heard it, Cornelia, and, had I not, the walls would have enlightened me."
"Is he out of his mind?"
"Out of his reckoning, I fancy," replied Mr. Carlyle.
"You will carry on the contest now," she continued, her countenance flashing. "I was averse to it before, but I now withdraw all my objection. You will be no brother of mine if you yield the field to him."
"I do not intend to yield it."
"Good. You bear on upon your course, and let him crawl on upon his.
Take no more heed of him than if he were a viper. Archibald, you must canvass now."
"No," said Mr. Carlyle, "I shall be elected without canvass. You'll see, Cornelia."
"There will be plenty canvassing for you, if you don't condescend to take the trouble, my indifferent brother. I'll give a thousand pounds myself, for ale, to the electors."
"Take care," laughed Mr. Carlyle. "Keep your thousand pounds in your pocket, Cornelia. I have no mind to be unseated, on the plea of 'bribery and corruption.' Here's Sir John Dobede galloping in, with a face as red as the sun in a fog."
"Well, it may be he has heard the news. I can tell you, Archibald, West Lynne is in a state of excitement that has not been its lot for many a day."
Miss Carlyle was right. Excitement and indignation had taken possession of West Lynne. How the people rallied around Mr. Carlyle!
Town and country were alike up in arms. But government interest was rife at West Lynne, and, whatever the private and public feeling might be, collectively or individually, many votes should be recorded for Sir Francis Levison.
One of the first to become cognizant of the affair was Lord Mount Severn. He was at his club one evening in London, poring over an evening paper, when the names "Carlyle," "West Lynne," caught his view. Knowing that Mr. Carlyle had been named as the probable member, and heartily wishing that he might become such, the earl naturally read the paragraph.
He read it, and read it again; he rubbed his eyes, he rubbed his glasses, he pinched himself, to see whether he was awake or dreaming.
For believe what that paper asserted--that Sir Francis Levison had entered the lists in opposition to Mr. Carlyle, and was at West Lynne, busily canvassing--he could not.
"Do you know anything of this infamous assertion?" he inquired of an intimate friend--"infamous, whether true or false."
"It's true, I heard of it an hour ago. Plenty of cheek that Levison must have."
"/Cheek!/" repeated the dismayed earl, feeling as if every part of him, body and mind, were outraged by the news, "don't speak of it in that way. The hound deserves to be gibbeted."
