Kilshaw was drinking a glass of brandy and soda-water. He jumped up,
glass in hand, and, going to the window, bowed to the angry mob and
drank a toast to his own success before their eyes. Mr. Todd's gross
bulk pushed its way to the front.

"Come down here," he shouted, "and talk to us, if you dare!"

Kilshaw smilingly shook his head.

"Three cheers for Sir Robert!" he cried.

"How's your friend Benham?" shouted one.

"We'll serve you the same," yelled another; "come down;" and a third,
whose partisanship outran his moral sense, proposed a cheer for Mr.
Francois Gaspard.

"I think you'll have to sleep here," said the Captain.

"Not I," answered Kilshaw. "They daren't touch me."

"Hum!" said the Captain, doubtfully regarding the crowd. "I don't know
that I'd care to insure you, if you go down now."

"We'll take you through," cried half-a-dozen young men, the sons of
well-born or rich families, who were heart and soul with him, and asked
for nothing better than a "row," with any one indeed, but above all with
the mob which they scorned, and which had out-voted them in their own
town.

The tramp of horses was heard outside. Two lines of mounted police were
making their way slowly down the street. A moment later two voices
sounded loud in altercation. The officer in command of the force was
remonstrating with Big Todd; Big Todd was asserting that he had as much
right as any one else to stand in the middle of Victoria Street and
speak to his friends; the officer, strong in the letter of the law,
maintained that no one, neither Big Todd nor another, had a right to
adopt this course of action, or to do anything else than walk along the
street whither his business might lead him.

"And they call this free speech!" cried Big Todd.

"Get on with you," said the officer.

"Now's your time," remarked the Captain. "Slip in between the two lines
and you'll get through."

Kilshaw and his volunteer escort accepted the suggestion, and, linking
arms, walked down-stairs. The Captain, after a brief inward struggle,
followed them. Their appearance at the Club door was the signal for
fresh hoots and groans.

"Now then, are you going?" said the officer to Big Todd.

The burly fellow cast a look round on his supporters.

"When I'm tired o' being here," he answered.

Kilshaw's band slipped in between the first and second rank. The
officer touched his horse with the spur, and it sprang forward. Big
Todd, with an oath, caugh