If Wallingford had been a
wise man he'd have let Hathelsborough go to the devil in its own way;
then he'd have been alive now."

"Well, I'm going to try," declared Brent. "I said I would, and I will!
You wait till I'm elected to that Town Council! Then we'll see."

"It's fighting a den of wild beasts," said Queenie. "You won't have a
rag left on you when they're through with you."

She used to tell him at these meetings of the machinations of Simon
Crood and Coppinger and Mallett against his chances of success in the
Castle Ward election: according to her they were moving heaven and earth
to prevent him from succeeding Wallingford. Evidently believing Queenie
to be a tame bird that carried no tales, they were given to talking
freely before her during their nightly conclaves. Brent heard a good
deal about the underhand methods in which municipal elections are
carried on in small country towns, and was almost as much amused as
amazed at the unblushing corruption and chicanery of which Queenie told
him. And now he fancied that she had some special news of a similar sort
to give him: the election was close at hand, and he knew that Simon and
his gang were desperately anxious to defeat him. Although Simon had been
elected to the Mayoralty, his party in the Town Council was in a parlous
position--at present it had a majority of one; if Brent were elected,
that majority would disappear, and there were signs that at the annual
elections in the coming November it would be transformed into a
minority. Moreover, the opponent whom Brent had to face in this
by-election was a strong man, a well-known, highly respected ratepayer,
who, though an adherent of the Old Party, was a fair-minded and moderate
politician, and likely to secure the suffrages of the non-party
electors. It was going to be a stiff fight, and Brent was thankful for
the occasional insights into the opposition's plans of campaign which
Queenie was able to give him.

But there were other things than this to think about, and he thought
much as he lay wakeful in bed that night and as he dressed next morning.
The proceedings at the adjourned inquest had puzzled him; left him
doubtful and uncertain. He was not sure about the jealousy theory. He
was not sure about Mrs. Saumarez, from what he had seen of her
personally and from what he had heard of her. He was inclined to believe
that she was not only a dabbler in politics with a liking for
influencing men who were conc