In the thunder of applause that shook the building he turned for the first time towards the house.  The cheers that went up to him brought the animation to his eyes.  The faces in the pit were hidden behind a sea of handkerchiefs and hats—­it was the response which a Virginia audience makes to a brave or a generous action.  “Hurrah for honest Nick!” yelled the floor, and “Go in and win yourself!” shouted a delegate from his own district.

He spoke again, and they were silent.

“Men of Virginia, in the naming of your governor, let us have neither subterfuge nor slander.  Better than the love of party is the love of honesty—­and the Democracy of Jefferson cannot thrive upon falsehood.  Fair means are the only means, honest ends are the only ends.  The party owes its right to existence to the people’s will; when its life must be prolonged by artificial stimulants it is fit that it should die.  It is not the people’s master, but the people’s servant; if it should usurp the oppressor’s place, it must die the oppressor’s death.

“For fifteen years I have worked a Democrat among you, and it is not needed that I should put in words my love for the party I have served; but I say to you to-day that if that party were doomed to annihilation and a lie could save it, I would not speak it.”

He sat down and the uproar began again.  Beyond the party were the people, and he had touched them.  With the force of his personality upon it he had become suddenly the hero of the house.  “Honest Nick!  Honest Nick!” shouted the galleries, and the cry was echoed from the pit.  When order was restored Major Baylor completed his speech; it was seconded by a sensible young congressman, and the oratory was cut short by a call for votes.

In a flash the chairmen of the different delegations were stung into action.  A buzz like that of bees swarming rose from the pit and white slips of paper fluttered from row to row.  The Webb leaders were whipping their faction into an enthusiasm that drowned the roll call.  At last, with the reading of the ballot, there was silence, followed by applause.  Webb led slightly in advance of Crutchfield; Burr came next, Hartley last.  With the surprise of the third name, round which there had been a rally of uninstructed delegations, a cheer went up.  In the clamour Burr had risen to ask that his name be withdrawn, but the chorus of his newly formed followers howled him down.  Then Hartley was dropped from the race and a second ballot ordered.  The excitement in the building could be felt like steam.  The heat was rising and a nervous tension weighted the atmosphere.  Through the clouds of tobacco smoke the records of changes sounded distinctly.  The Hartley delegation that Webb had counted on divided and went two ways; the county of Albemarle passed over to Burr; the city of Richmond broke its vote into three equal parts.