He finally discredited his advice by adding impressibly, ’You needn’t go into the instance at all, you know.  They’ll understand what you’re alluding to, never fear’; and Drake flatly refused to dance into Parliament to that tune, however persuasively Mr. Burl played upon the pipes.

The hotel at which Drake put up was situated in a short broad street which ran from the Market Square.  From the balcony of his sitting-room on the first floor he could see the market sheds at the end of the street to his left.  The opposite end was closed in by the Town Hall, which was built upon an ancient gate of the town.  From Drake’s windows you got a glimpse through the archway of green fields and trees.  Almost facing him was a second hotel on the opposite side of the street, the ‘Yellow Boar.’  It was tricked out, he noticed, with the colours of his opponent.  While he was standing at the window an open carriage turned out of the market-place, and drove up to the ‘Yellow Boar.’  Lord Cranston got down from it, and a lady.  The candidate was of a short and slight build; a pencil—­line of black moustache crossed a pallid and indecisive face, and he seemed a year or two more than thirty.  The lady looked the younger, and was certainly the taller of the two.  Drake was impressed by her face, which bore womanly gentleness, stamped on features of a marked intellectuality.  The couple disappeared into the hall, and appeared again in a large room with big windows upon the first floor.  From where he stood Drake could see every corner of the room.  Lord and Lady Cranston, the land-lord informed him, were staying at the ‘Yellow Boar.’  The two candidates overlooked each other.

In this street, morning and evening, they met for a moment or two, and took a breath of friendly intercourse.  Drake was introduced to Lady Cranston, but she would have none of the truce.  To her he was the enemy, and to be treated as such consistently, with a heart-and-soul hostility, until he confessed himself beaten.  Drake liked her all the better for her attitude.  Meanwhile he made headway in the constituency.  He was in earnest, with a big theme to descant upon—­the responsibility of the constituency to the empire.  His fervour brought it home to his audiences as a fact; he set the recognition of that responsibility forwards as the prime duty of the citizen, sneering at the parochial notion of politics.  Mr. Burl shook his head over Drake’s method of fighting the battle, and hinted more than once at the necessity of that lecture upon morals.  Drake not only refused to reconsider it, but flatly forbade Mr. Burl to allude to the subject in any speech which he might make.  Burl shrugged his shoulders and confided his doubts to Captain Le Mesurier.  Said the Captain, ’I think he’s wise; a speech might offend.  What’s wanted is an epigram—­a good stinging epigram.  We could set it about, and, if it’s sharp enough, no need to fear it won’t travel.’  He paused dubiously.  ’After