"H'm! not a bad guess. It's four years old, as near as can be. I see you know all about her, though how you found out I can't understand, unless she"----

He paused, peering at Glazzard suspiciously.

"It doesn't matter how I learnt what I know," said the latter, in a peremptory tone. "Let us stick to the point. It's lucky you have brought this carte-de-visite; it will enable you to a.s.sure yourself, before going to the Court-house, that you are not being fooled. As soon as you land in the town, ask your way to the shop of a bookseller called Ridge (make a note of the name)--tell Mr. Ridge that you have found a pocket-book with that photograph in it, and ask him if he can help you to identify the person. You'll hear his answer. And in this way, by-the-bye, you could dispense with telling the magistrate that you have seen your wife. Produce the portrait in Court, and declare that it has been recognized by people in the town."

Northway appeared content.

"Well, that sounds better. And what am I to do after speaking to the magistrate?"

"I should advise you to have an interview with the man himself, the Liberal candidate, and ask him how it happens that your wife is living with him. In that way--when he learns what step you have already taken--you will no doubt get hold of the truth. And then," he smiled, "you can spend the rest of the day in contradicting your statement that Mrs. So-and-so has committed bigamy; making it known that she is merely a counterfeit wife."

"Making known to whom?"

Glazzard laughed.

"Why, to the hundreds of people who will crowd about you. My dear sir, you will be the most important person in the town! You will turn an electicn--overthrow the hopes of a party! Don't you want to know the taste of _power_? Won't it amuse you to think, and to remember, that in the elections of 1880 you exercised an influence beyond that of Gladstone or Beaconsfield? It's the wish for power that excites all this uproar throughout the country. I myself, now--do you think I am a political agent just for the money it brings me? No, no; but because I have delight in ruling men! If I am not mistaken, you have it in you to become a leader in your way, and some day you'll remember my words."

Northway opened his eyes very wide, and with a look of gratification.

"You think I'm cut out for that kind of thing?"

"Judging from what I have heard of your talk. But not in England, you understand. Try one of the new countries, where the popular cause goes ahead more boldly. You're young enough yet."

The listener mused, smiling in a self-conscious way that obliged Glazzard to avert his face for a moment lest he should betray contemptuous amus.e.m.e.nt.

"Shall you be there--in that town--to-morrow?" asked the young man.

"No, I have business in quite another part. That election," he added, with an air of importance, "is not the only one I am looking after."

There was silence, then Glazzard continued:

"It's indifferent to me whether it comes out that I planned this stratagem, or not. Still, in the interests of my party, I admit that I had rather it were kept quiet. So I'll tell you what. If, in a month's time, I find that you have kept the secret, you shall receive at any address you like a second five-pound note. It's just as you please. Of course, if you think you can get more by bargaining with the Liberals--but I doubt whether the secret will be worth anything after the explosion."

"All right. I'll give you an address, so that if you keep in the same mind"----

He mentioned it. And Glazzard made a note.

"Then we strike a bargain, Mr. Northway?"

"Yes, I'll go through with it," was the deliberate reply.

"Very well. Then you shall have the particulars."

Thereupon Glazzard made known the names he had kept in reserve.

Northway jotted them down on the back of an envelope, his hand rather unsteady.

"There's a train to Polterham," said Glazzard, "at nine o'clock in the morning. You'll be there by ten--see Ridge the bookseller, and be at the Court-house in convenient time. I know there's a sitting to-morrow; and on the second day after comes out the Polterham Tory paper. You will prepare them such an item of news in their police reports as they little look for. By that time the whole truth will be known, of course, and Mr. Quarrier's candidature will be impossible."

"What will the Liberals do?"

"I can't imagine. We shall look on and enjoy the situation--unprecedented, I should think."

Northway again smiled; he seemed to enter into the jest.

"You sleep here," said Glazzard. "Your expenses are paid. I'll take leave of you now, and I sha'n't see you again, as I have to leave by the 3.40 up-train."

The money he had promised was transferred to Northway's pocket, and they shook hands with much friendliness.

Glazzard quitted the hotel. His train back to Polterham left at 1.14, and it was past midnight.

He went into the station, now quiet and deserted. A footstep occasionally echoed under the vault, or a voice sounded from a distance. The gas was lowered; out at either end gleamed the coloured signal-lights, and above them a few faint stars.

It was bitterly cold. Glazzard began to walk up and down, his eyes straying vaguely. He felt a miserable sinking of the heart, a weariness as if after great exertion.

An engine came rolling slowly along one of the lines; it stopped just beyond the station, and then backed into a siding. There followed the thud of carriage against carriage: a train was being made up, he went to watch the operation. The clang of metal, the hiss of steam, the moving about of men with lanterns held his attention for some time, and so completely that he forgot all else.

Somewhere far away sounded a long-drawn whistle, now faint, now clearer, a modulated wail broken at moments by a tremolo on one high note. It was like a voice lamenting to the dead of night. Glazzard could not endure it; he turned back into the station and tramped noisily on the stone platform.

Then the air was disturbed by the dull roar of an approaching train, and presently a long string of loaded waggons pa.s.sed without pause. The engine-fire glowed upon heavy puffs of smoke, making them a rich crimson. A freight of iron bars clanged and clashed intolerably. When remoteness at length stilled them, there rose again the long wailing whistle; it was answered by another like it from still greater distance.

Glazzard could stand and walk no longer. He threw himself on a seat, crossed his arms, and remained motionless until the ringing of a bell and a sudden turning on of lights warned him that his train drew near.

On the way to Polterham he dozed, and only a fortunate awaking at the last moment saved him from pa.s.sing his station. It was now close upon two o'clock, and he had a two-mile walk to Highmead. His brother believed that he was spending the evening with an acquaintance in a neighbouring town; he had said he should probably be very late, and a side door was to be left unbarred that he might admit himself with a latch-key.

But for a policeman here and there, the streets were desolate. Wherever the lamplight fell upon a wall or h.o.a.rding, it illumined election placards, with the names of the candidates in staring letters, and all the familiar vulgarities of party advertising. "Welwyn-Baker and the Honour of Old England!"--"Vote for Quarrier, the Friend of the Working Man!"--"No Jingoism!" "The Const.i.tution in Danger! Polterham to the Rescue!" These trumpetings to the battle restored Glazzard's self-satisfaction; he smiled once more, and walked on with lighter step.

Just outside the town, in a dark narrow road, he was startled by the sudden rising of a man's figure. A voice exclaimed, in thick, ebrious tones: "Who are you for? What's you're colour?"

"Who are _you_ for?" called out Glazzard, in return, as he walked past.

The politician--who had seemingly been asleep in the ditch--raised himself to his full height and waved his arms about.

"I'm a Radical!--Quarrier for ever!--Come on, one and all of you--I'm ready: fist or argument, it's all one to me!--You and your Welwyn-Baker--gurr! What's _he_ ever done for the people?--that's what _I_ want to know!--Ya-oo-oo-oo! Quarrier for ever!--Down with the aristocrats as wants to make war at the expense of the working man!

What's England coming to?--tell me that! You've no principles, you haven't, you Tory skunks; you've not half a principle among you.--I'm a man of principle, I am, and I vote for national morality, I do!--You're running away, are you?--Ya-oo-oo!--stop and fight it out, if you're a man!--Down with 'em, boys! Down with 'em!--Quarrier for ever!"

The shouts of hiccoughy enthusiasm came suddenly to an end, and Glazzard, looking back, saw that, in an attempt to run, the orator had measured his length in the mud.

By three o'clock he was seated in his bedroom, very tired but not much disposed to turn into bed. He had put a match to the fire, for his feet were numbed with cold, in spite of a long walk. Travelling-bags and trunks in readiness for removal told of his journey on the morrow. All his arrangements were made; the marriage ceremony was to take place at ten o'clock, and shortly after eleven he and his wife would leave for London on their way to the Continent.

Too soon, of course, to hear the result of Northway's visit to the Court-house. There would be the pleasure of imagining all that he left behind him, and in a day or two the papers would bring news. He had always sympathized with Guy Fawkes and his fellow-conspirators: how delightful to have fired the train, and then, at a safe distance, have awaited the stupendous explosion.

Poor little Lilian! That was the only troublesome thought. Yet was he in truth harming her? Quarrier would take her abroad, and, in a life of retirement, she would have far more happiness than was possible to her under the present circ.u.mstances. Northway would sue for a divorce, and thus leave her free to enter upon legitimate marriage. Perhaps he was doing her the greatest kindness in his power.

When his feet were thoroughly warm he went to bed, and slept well until the servant call him at half-past seven. It was a very bright morning; he drew up the blind and let a flood of sunshine into the room.

Contrary to his expectations, no despondency weighed upon him; by breakfast time he was more than usually cheerful.

"Ivy," he said to his niece, "I have promised to call at the Quarriers'

on our way. We had better start at a quarter to nine; that will give us five minutes with them."