The consequence of this sudden development of Stukely’s popularity was that Cave united his destiny with the new favourite, and such an involution of parties took place that “Stukely and Cave” joined hand in hand and heart to heart, while poor Howell Gwynne and myself were abandoned as useless candidates.  At one o’clock it was clear that I must be defeated by a large majority.

The Cave party then approached me with the modest request that, as it was quite clear that I could not be returned, would I mind attending the polling places and give my support to Cave?

This piece of unparalleled impudence I declined to accede to, and did nothing.  The election was over so far as I was interested in its result; but I was determined to have a parting word with the electors before leaving the town.  I was mortified at the unblushing treachery and deception of my supporters.

I was next asked what I proposed to do.  It was their object to get me out of the town as soon as possible, for if unsuccessful as a candidate, I might be troublesome in other ways.  Such people are not without a sense of fear, if they have no feeling of shame.

I said I should do nothing but take a stroll by the river, the day being fine, and come back when the poll was declared and make them a little speech.

The little speech was exactly what they did not want, so in the most friendly manner they informed me that a fast train would leave Barnstaple at a certain time, and that probably I would like to catch that, as no doubt I wished to be in town as early as possible to attend to my numerous engagements.  If they had chartered the train themselves they could not have shown greater consideration for my interests.  But I informed them that I should stop and address the electors, and with this statement they turned sulkily away.

At the appointed hour for the declaration of the poll I was on the hustings—­well up there, although the lowest on the poll.  Stukely and Cave were first and second, Howell Gwynne and myself third and last!

When my turn came to address the multitude, I spoke in no measured terms as to the conduct of the election, which I denounced as having been won by the most scandalous bribery and corruption.

All who were present as unbiassed spectators were sorry, and many of them expressed a wish that I would return on a future day.

“Not,” said I, “until the place has been purged of the foul corruption with which it is tainted.”

I had resolved to leave by the mail train, and was actually accompanied to the station by a crowd of some 2,000 people, including the Rector, or Vicar of the parish, who gave me godspeed on my journey home.

This kind and sincere expression of goodwill and sympathy was worth all the boisterous cheers with which I had been received.

On the platform at the railway station I had to make another little speech, and then I took my seat, not for Barnstaple, but London.  As the train drew out of the station, the people clung to the carriage like bees, and although I had not even honeyed words to give them, they gave me a “send-off” with vociferous cheers and the most cordial good wishes.