we is
marshalling his forces. All the delegates who can be collected, and who
wear the button with the likeness and superscription of Humphrey Crewe,
are drawn up beside the monument in the park, where the Ripton Band is
stationed; and presently they are seen by cheering crowds marching to
martial music towards the convention hall, where they collect in a body,
with signs and streamers in praise of the People's Champion well to the
front and centre. This is generally regarded as a piece of consummate
general ship on the part of their leader. They are applauded from the
galleries,--already packed,--especially from one conspicuous end where
sit that company of ladies (now so famed) whose efforts have so
materially aided the cause of the People's Champion. Gay streamers vie
with gayer gowns, and morning papers on the morrow will have something to
say about the fashionable element and the special car which brought them
from Leith.

"My, but it is hot!"

The hall is filled now, with the thousand delegates, or their
representatives who are fortunate enough to possess their credentials.
Something of this matter later. General Doby, chairman of the convention,
an impressive but mournful figure, could not call a roll if he wanted to.
Not that he will want to! Impossible to tell, by the convenient laws of
the State, whether the duly elected delegates of Hull or Mercer or Truro
are here or not, since their credentials may be bought or sold or
conferred. Some political giants, who have not negotiated their
credentials, are recognized as they walk down the aisle: the
statesmanlike figure of Senator Whitredge (a cheer); that of Senator
Green (not so statesmanlike, but a cheer); Congressman Fairplay (cheers);
and--Hilary Vane! His a figure that does not inspire cheers,--least of
all to-day,--the man upon whose shoulders rests the political future of
the Northeastern. The conservative Mr. Tredways and other Lincoln
radicals of long ago who rely on his strength and judgment are not the
sort to cheer. And yet--and yet Hilary inspires some feeling when, with
stooping gait, he traverses the hall, and there is a hush in many
quarters as delegates and spectators watch his progress to the little
room off the platform: the general's room, as the initiated know.

Ah, but few know what a hateful place it is to Hilary Vane to-day, this
keyboard at which he has sat so complacently in years gone by, the envied
of conventions. He sits down wearil