The voting quickened.  “Rand is ahead—­Rand is winning!” went from mouth to mouth.  Fairfax Cary, caring much where his brother cared little, welcomed impetuously the wave of Federalists which that rumour brought in from the yard and street.  “Ha, Mr. Gilmer, Mr. Carter, you are welcome!  Who votes?  Who votes as General Hamilton and Mr. Adams and Judge Marshall vote?  Who votes as Washington would have voted?”

So many crowded to vote as Washington would have voted, that it almost seemed as though his shade might lead the Federalists to victory.  But the dead Washington must cope with the living Jefferson; mild monarchism and stately rule with a spirit born of time, nursed by Voltaire and Jean-Jacques Rousseau, grown articulate in the French Revolution, and now full swing toward majority.  When thrown, the Democrat-Republicans rose from the earth like Antaeus.  Much of the gentle blood and many of the prominent men of the county voted for Lewis Rand.  Jefferson’s personal following of friends and kinsmen was large; these accepted his man as a matter of course, while to the plain men of the county Lewis Rand was more even than the coming man:  he was of them; he was a plain man.  The clamour and excitement grew.  “Here come the Three-Notched Road people!” cried a voice.  “They all rolled tobacco with Gideon Rand!”

The Three-Notched Road people voted to a man for the son of Gideon Rand, and were promptly reinforced by a contingent of hot Republicans from the Ragged Mountains.  At ten o’clock Lewis Rand was again well ahead, but at this hour there was a sharp rally of the Federalists.  A cheering from without announced the arrival of some popular voter, and Colonel Churchill and his brother, Major Edward, and an array of Federalists from the Fontenoy district, entered the Court House.

“The Churchills are coming, Oho!  Oho!” sang out a wag perched on the window-sill.

“Not to that tune,” roared a Scot from the gallery.  “Mon, they’re Tories!”

“Gentlemen, gentlemen! order at the polls!” shouted the sheriff.  “Colonel Churchill, for whom do you vote?”

“I vote, sir,” cried the Colonel, “for Mr. Ludwell Cary, for a gentleman and a patriot, sir, and may the old county never be represented but by such!”

“Order, order at the polls!  Colonel Churchill votes for Mr. Ludwell Cary!  Major Edward Churchill, whom do you vote for?”

“For whom do you suppose, Mr. Sheriff?” said the Major.  “For Mr. Ludwell Cary.”

Cary rose from the bench and stepped forward to the edge of the platform.  “Colonel Dick, Major Edward, I thank you both.  May I deserve your confidence and your favour!  Fontenoy is as dear to me as Greenwood.”

“By God, you shall win, Ludwell!” cried Colonel Dick.  “Here’s a regiment of us to see you through!”

“Rome hasn’t fallen yet,” added Major Edward.  “I don’t hear the geese cackling.”

“One’s cackling now,” smiled Cary, and Mr. Tom Mocket stepped up to the polls.