room sat the
Mayor of the Borough in robe and chain of office, presiding over the
proceedings. The Returning Officer and his staff sat behind long
tables, on which were deposited the sealed ballot boxes brought in from
the various polling stations; and these were emptied and the votes were
counted, the voting papers for each candidate being done up in bundles
of fifty. Knots of committee-men of both parties stood chatting in low
voices. In an ordinary election both candidates would have chatted
together, in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred about golf, and would
have made an engagement to meet again in milder conflict that day week.
But here Paul was the only candidate to appear, and he sat in a
cane-bottomed chair apart from the lounging politicians, feeling
curiously an interloper in this vast, solemn and scantily-filled hall.
He was very tired, too tired in body, mind and soul to join in the
small-talk of Wilson and his bodyguard. Besides, they all wore the air
of anticipated victory, and for that he held them in detestation. He
had detested them the whole day long. The faces that yesterday had been
long and anxious to-day had been wreathed in smirks. Wherever he had
gone he had found promise of victory in his father's disgrace.
Passionately the young man, fronting vital issues, longed for his own
defeat.

But for the ironical interposition of the high gods, it might have been
so different. Any other candidate against him, he himself buoyed up
with his own old glorious faith, his Princess, dazzling meteor
illuminating the murky streets--dear God! what would not have been the
joy of battle during the past week, what would not have been the
intense thrill, the living of a thousand lives in these few hours of
suspense now so dull with dreariness and pain! He sat apart, his legs
crossed, a hand over his eyes. Wilson and his men, puzzled by his
apparent apathy, left him alone. It is not much use addressing a mute
and wooden idol, no matter how physically prepossessing.

The counting went on slowly, relentlessly, and the bundles of fifty on
each side grew in bulk, and Paul's side bulked larger than Silas Finn's.

At last Wilson could stand it no longer. He left the group with which
he was talking, and came to Paul. "We're far ahead already," he cried
excitedly. "I told you last night would do the trick."

"Last night," said Paul, rising and stuffing his hands in his jacket
pockets, "my opponent's supporters passed a