end of a hot political canvass.  At the mass-meeting Angelo tried to make his great temperance oration, but was so discommoded—­by hiccoughs and thickness of tongue that he had to give it up; then drowsiness overtook him and his head drooped against Luigi’s and he went to sleep.  Luigi apologized for him, and was going on to improve his opportunity with an appeal for a moderation of what he called “the prevailing teetotal madness,” but persons in the audience began to howl and throw things at him, and then the meeting rose in wrath and chased him home.

This episode was a crusher for Angelo in another way.  It destroyed his chances with Rowena.  Those chances had been growing, right along, for two months.  Rowena had partly confessed that she loved him, but wanted time to consider.  Now the tender dream was ended, and she told him so the moment he was sober enough to understand.  She said she would never marry a man who drank.

“But I don’t drink,” he pleaded.

“That is nothing to the point,” she said, coldly, “you get drunk, and that is worse.”

[There was a long and sufficiently idiotic discussion here, which ended as reported in a previous note.]

CHAPTER X

SO THEY HANGED LUIGI

Dawson’s Landing had a week of repose, after the election, and it needed it, for the frantic and variegated nightmare which had tormented it all through the preceding week had left it limp, haggard, and exhausted at the end.  It got the week of repose because Angelo had the legs, and was in too subdued a condition to want to go out and mingle with an irritated community that had come to disgust and detest him because there was such a lack of harmony between his morals, which were confessedly excellent, and his methods of illustrating them, which were distinctly damnable.  The new city officers were sworn in on the following Monday—­at least all but Luigi.  There was a complication in his case.  His election was conceded, but he could not sit in the board of aldermen without his brother, and his brother could not sit there because he was not a member.  There seemed to be no way out of the difficulty but to carry the matter into the courts, so this was resolved upon.

The case was set for the Monday fortnight.  In due course the time arrived.  In the mean time the city government had been at a standstill, because with out Luigi there was a tie in the board of aldermen, whereas with him the liquor interest—­the richest in the political field—­would have one majority.  But the court decided that Angelo could not sit in the board with him, either in public or executive sessions, and at the same time forbade the board to deny admission to Luigi, a fairly and legally chosen alderman.  The case was carried up and up from court to court, yet still the same old original decision was confirmed every time.  As a result, the city government not only stood still, with its hands tied, but everything it was created to protect and care for went a steady gait toward rack and ruin.  There was no way to levy a tax, so the minor officials had to resign or starve; therefore they resigned.  There being no city money, the enormous legal expenses on both sides had to be defrayed by private subscription.  But at last the people came to their senses, and said: