Marsham looked round.
"What's the matter?"
McEwart would have gladly flung the paper away. But looking round him he
saw that several other persons on the top of the coach had copies, and
that whispering consternation had begun.
He saw nothing for it but to hand the paper to Marsham. "This is playing
it pretty low down!" he said, pointing to an item in large letters on
the first page.
Marsham handed the reins to the groom beside him and took the paper. He
saw, printed in full, Barrington's curt letter to himself on the subject
of the _Herald_ article, and below it the jubilant and scathing comments
of the Tory editor.
He read both carefully, and gave the paper back to McEwart. "That
decides the election," he said, calmly. McEwart's face assented.
* * * * *
Marsham, however, never showed greater pluck than at the Hartingfield
meeting. It was a rowdy and disgraceful business, in which from
beginning to end he scarcely got a hearing for more than three sentences
at a time. A shouting mob of angry men, animated by passions much more
than political, held him at bay. But on this occasion he never once lost
his temper; he caught the questions and insults hurled at him, and threw
them back with unfailing skill; and every now and then, at some lull in
the storm, he made himself heard, and to good purpose.
Pages:
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593
594
595
596
597
598
599
600
601
602
603
604
605
606
607
608
609
610