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THREE:Reuben's sudden pallor and blank eyes had softened his heart a little. But, he reflected the next moment, there was no sense in pitying Backfield.

THREE:Reuben felt his heart sink, and his beer nearly choked him. Soon a vast struggle was raging round the hustings, as the voters fought their way through fists and sticks, often emerging—especially the Conservatives—with their clothes half torn off their backs and quite ruined by garbage. The special constables were useless, for their own feelings betrayed them, and unluckily even in their ranks the Radicals predominated. The[Pg 183] state of the poll at ten-thirty was twenty-seven for Captain MacKinnon and only eleven for Colonel MacDonald."Master Oakley," said he, "you played me false in this game. Do ye think if I hadn't been fool enough to believe what you and that master sheriff told me, I would have given in till poor Edith Holgrave had slipt her cable. Did you not swear to me," added he fiercely, "that the law could not touch her?"

THREE:When late the next morning a woman ran out of the house into the cow-stable, and told Reuben that his wife had given him a fine boy, he merely groaned and shook his head.

THREE:"It's only because he has no imagination. He's a thick-skinned brute, and I hate the idea of a man like that becoming powerful. Why don't you give the land back to the parish? Acknowledge that grandpapa's[Pg 125] inclosure has failed, and let the people have their common again."

THREE:Boorman went out, grumbling at "th' ?ald feller's cussedness," and Reuben sat on without moving.