almost triumphantly. Even Mr. Bolitho
felt a shiver pass through his body as Paul spoke. His speech seemed
to contain a kind of prophecy. There was something ominous about it.
It seemed to tell of dark days to come, of tragedy--why, he could not
understand, but so it was.

It was all over at length. The crowd broke up and wended their way
towards their various homes. Mr. Bolitho went to the club, supported
by his followers, while Paul also resorted to the gathering-place most
frequently used by the class whose cause he had hoped to represent.
For hours there was speechifying and loud talking. For hours words
were bandied, explanations offered, and threats made. At length,
however, silence reigned in the town; and Paul was about to find his
way back to his lodgings, when his partner, George Preston, came to
him, accompanied by a man whom they had employed to try and find out
the secret cause of the ruin which stared them in the face.

"Paul," said Preston, "you've finished now. Can I go with you to your
lodgings?"

"Yes," replied Paul. "What is it?"

"Something that will keep till we are alone," replied the young man
laconically. "On the whole, I'm glad we didn't know two days ago what
I know now. It's best as it is, Paul. I can see you are terribly
disappointed at not getting in, but, for my part, I'm glad. After all,
business, with me, is more than politics. You should have waited, lad,
waited till our position was safe, before you started this fight.
Still, you couldn't help it. It was not your fault that the election
came on this year instead of next, and the chaps meant to have you."

"But tell me, what is it?" asked Paul. His mind had become so confused
by the scenes of excitement through which he had passed that he could
not realise the drift of his partner's words.

"No," replied the other sternly; "let's wait until we get to your
lodgings. We must be alone. I tell you, if you knew what you'll know
now, when you were speaking from the balcony, there would have been a
row. But, never mind, it's best as it is."

They walked on through the narrow, comparatively deserted streets,
until presently they arrived at a comfortable-looking house in the
Liverpool Road, where Paul's rooms were now situated.

"Now, then, tell me," said the young man, when they were seated.

"Is everybody here gone to bed?" asked Standring, the man who had
accompanied them, but who had not yet spoken.

"Hours sinc