eserved. As the new three-cornered
contest developed it became apparent to others besides his devoted
kinsman that there was more in Horne Fisher than had ever met the
eye. It was clear that his outbreak by the family fireside had been
but the culmination of a long course of brooding and studying on the
question. The talent he retained through life for studying his
subject, and even somebody else's subject, had long been
concentrated on this idea of championing a new peasantry against a
new plutocracy. He spoke to a crowd with eloquence and replied to an
individual with humor, two political arts that seemed to come to him
naturally. He certainly knew much more about rural problems than
either Hughes, the Reform candidate, or Verner, the Constitutional
candidate. And he probed those problems with a human curiosity, and
went below the surface in a way that neither of them dreamed of
doing. He soon became the voice of popular feelings that are never
found in the popular press. New angles of criticism, arguments that
had never before been uttered by an educated voice, tests and
comparisons that had been made only in dialect by men drinking in
the little local public houses, crafts half forgotten that had come
down by sign of hand and tongue from remote ages when their fathers
were free--all this created a curious and double excitement. It
startled the well informed by being a new and fantastic idea they
had never encountered. It startled the ignorant by being an old and
familiar idea they never thought to have seen revived. Men saw
things in a new light, and knew not even whether it was the sunset
or the dawn.

Practical grievances were there to make the movement formidable. As
Fisher went to and fro among the cottages and country inns, it was
borne in on him without difficulty that Sir Francis Verner was a
very bad landlord. Nor was the story of his acquisition of the land
any more ancient and dignified than he had supposed; the story was
well known in the county and in most respects was obvious enough.
Hawker, the old squire, had been a loose, unsatisfactory sort of
person, had been on bad terms with his first wife (who died, as some
said, of neglect), and had then married a flashy South American
Jewess with a fortune. But he must have worked his way through this
fortune also with marvelous rapidity, for he had been compelled to
sell the estate to Verner and had gone to live in South America,
possibly on his wife's esta