he confidence of a mind firmly assured
of success. Lord Saxingham was moved; bright visions flashed across
him,--the premiership, a dukedom. Yet he was old and childless, and his
honours would die with the last lord of Saxingham!

"See," continued Lumley, "I have calculated our resources as accurately
as an electioneering agent would cast up the list of voters. In the
Press, I have secured ----- and -----, and in the Commons we have the
subtle -----, and the vigour of -----, and the popular name of -----,
and all the boroughs of -----; in the Cabinet we have -----, and at
Court you know our strength. Let us choose our moment; a sudden _coup_,
an interview with the king, statement of our conscientious scruples to
this atrocious measure. I know the vain, stiff mind of the premier; _he_
will lose temper, he will tender his resignation; to his astonishment,
it will be accepted. You will be sent for; we will dissolve parliament;
we will strain every nerve in the elections; we shall succeed, I know
we shall. But be silent in the meanwhile, be cautious: let not a word
escape you, let them think us beaten; lull suspicion asleep; let us
lament our weakness, and hint, only hint at our resignation, but with
assurances of continued support. I know how to blind them, if you leave
it to me."

The weak mind of the old earl was as a puppet in the hands of his bold
kinsman. He feared one moment, hoped another; now his ambition was
flattered, now his sense of honour was alarmed. There was something in
Lumley's intrigue to oust the government with which he served that had
an appearance of cunning and baseness, of which Lord Saxingham, whose
personal character was high, by no means approved. But Vargrave talked
him over with consummate address, and when they parted, the earl carried
his head two inches higher,--he was preparing himself for his rise in
life.

"That is well! that is well!" said Lumley, rubbing his hands when he was
left alone: "the old driveller will be my _locum tenens_, till years and
renown enable me to become his successor. Meanwhile, I shall be really
what he will be in name."

Here Lord Vargrave's well-fed servant, now advanced to the dignity of
own gentleman and house-steward, entered the room with a letter; it
had a portentous look; it was wafered, the paper was blue, the hand
clerklike, there was no envelope; it bore its infernal origin on the
face of it,--IT WAS A DUN'S.

Lumley opened the epistle with an imp