clerk's desk to receive
votes. Not far off, the sheriff sat in his family-pew, bare-headed; by
his grave and reverent manner imposing due decorum, which was carefully
observed by all except Lord Luxmore and Mr. Brithwood.

These two, apparently sure of their cause, had recovered their spirits,
and talked and laughed loudly on the other side of the church. It was
a very small building, narrow and cruciform; every word said in it was
distinctly audible throughout.

"My lord, gentlemen, and my friends all," said Sir Ralph, rising
gravely, "let me hope that every one will respect the sanctity of this
place."

Lord Luxmore, who had been going about with his dazzling diamond
snuff-box and equally dazzling smile, stopped in the middle of the
aisle, bowed, replied, "With pleasure--certainly!" and walked inside
the communion rail, as if believing that his presence there conveyed
the highest compliment he could pay the spot.

The poll began in perfect silence. One after the other, three farmers
went up and voted for Mr. Vermilye. There was snuff under their
noses--probably something heavier than snuff in their pockets.

Then came up the big, grey-headed fellow I have before mentioned--Jacob
Baines. He pulled his fore-lock to Sir Ralph, rather shyly; possibly
in his youth he had made the sheriff's acquaintance under less
favourable circumstances. But he plucked up courage.

"Your honour, might a man say a word to 'ee?"

"Certainly! but be quick, my good fellow," replied the baronet, who was
noted for his kindly manner to humble folk.

"Sir, I be a poor man. I lives in one o' my lord's houses. I hanna
paid no rent for a year. Mr. Brown zays to me, he zays--'Jacob, vote
for Vermilye, and I'll forgive 'ee the rent, and here be two pound ten
to start again wi'. So, as I zays to Matthew Hales (he be Mr.
Halifax's tenant, your honour, and my lord's steward ha' paid 'un nigh
four pound for his vote), I sure us be poor men, and his lordship a
lord and all that--it's no harm, I reckon."

"Holloa! cut it short, you rascal; you're stopping the poll. Vote, I
say."

"Ay, ay, 'squire;" and the old fellow, who had some humour in him,
pulled his hair again civilly to Mr. Brithwood. "Wait till I ha' got
shut o' these."

And he counted out of his ragged pockets a handful of guineas. Poor
fellow! how bright they looked; those guineas, that were food,
clothing, life.

"Three was paid to I, two to Will Horrocks, and the r