“I am, perhaps, too much disposed to an indefinite course of action; my principles I wish the electors to confide in, and I will act up to them as the occasion may offer,” said Francis.

“But if you are too broad and direct in your assertion of principles, you may offend a third part of our sure votes.  Nothing like a few good large words, with not much meaning, for these burghs.  By the by, there is a deputation from Ladykirk come to wait on you, before you speak at this meeting.  It is nearer for them to come here than to Swinton, so it is more convenient.”

In fact there were two deputations awaiting the Liberal candidate—­one from the electors of Ladykirk, headed by Sandy Pringle, a man who had risen by the fabrication of woollen yarn from a weaver into a millowner, though not in a very large way; and the other from the non-electors of Newtown, who, though they had no legitimate right to take up Cross Hall’s time, wanted a few words with him before election.  Their spokesman was Jamie Howison, of the class called in the south country, in common parlance, a CREESHEY weaver, who had not risen, and was not likely to rise.

Both deputations appeared at once, which to a man less honest and direct than Francis, would have been inconvenient.  He might have requested one to retire while he gave audience to the other, but he had so little the fear of Mr. Prentice before his eyes, that he really wished every elector and every non-elector to hear his sentiments and opinions as fully and openly as possible, and he received both of the deputations together.

He first heard what his own would-be constituents had to say, and satisfied them as to his perfect independence of the great Whig families, and that he meant to keep his judgment unbiassed by party politics.

“Then what about the extension o’ the suffrage?” asked Sandy Pringle; “we want five-pound voters at Ladykirk.”

“That is a question likely to be kept in abeyance during the sitting of this parliament,” said Francis.  “If it is brought forward I must say that I cannot at present vote for extension of the suffrage.”

“Oh! we thocht ye were an oot-an’-oot Leeberal—­nane o’ your finality Whigs that took ae bit step in the richt direction, and then durstna venture further.  Ye maun vote for the five-pound vote if ye are to be oor man,” said Sandy Pringle.

“We thocht ye would be for a baulder step than a five-pound vote,” said Jamie Howison; “ye’re said to be the puir man’s friend.  Is it fair that the like o’ huz, that mak the country what it is, should hae nae voice in the elections?  We’re for manhood suffrage, an’ the ballot, and we look to you to be oor advocate, for we thocht ye was to be oor member.  If so be as we had had our richts, and had votes to gie, ye should hae them a’.”

“It’s fear—­it’s fear of the earl and the Freeburgh gentry that keeps him frae speakin’ oot his mind,” said Sandy Pringle; “but his heart is a’ richt.  He kens what’s wanted, and if he’s no thirled to the Elliotts and the Greys, he can vote as he thinks fit.  I think we can depend on him.”