This was the picture as it was painted by Mr Sprout,--who had, even then, heard something of the loves of the two candidates, and who had thought that Lopez would be glad to injure Arthur Fletcher's chances of success.So far he was not wrong;--but the sense of injury done to himself oppressed Lopez so much that he could not guide himself by reason.The idea of retiring was very painful to him, and he did not believe these men.He thought it to be quite possible that they were there to facilitate the return of Arthur Fletcher.He had never even heard of Du Boung till he had come to Silverbridge two or three days ago.He still could not believe that Du Boung would be returned.He thought over it all for a moment, and then he gave his answer.'I've been brought down here to fight, and I'll fight it to the last,' he said.'Then you'll hand over the borough to Mr Fletcher,' said Sprout, getting up and ushering Mr Du Boung out of the room.
It was after that, but on the same day, that Lopez and Fletcher met each other in the street.The affair did not take a minute, and then they parted, each on his own way.In the course of the evening Mr Sprugeon told his candidate that he, Sprugeon, could not concern himself any further in that election.He was very sorry for what had occurred,--very sorry indeed.It was no doubt a pity that the Duke had been so firm.'But,'--and Mr Sprugeon shrugged his shoulders as he spoke,--'when a nobleman like the Duke chooses to have a way of his own, he must have it.'
Mr Sprugeon went on to declare that any further candidature would be a waste of money, waste of time, and waste of energy, and then signified his intention of retiring, as far as the election went, into private life.When asked, he acknowledged that they who had been acting with him had come to the same resolve.Mr Lopez had in fact come there as the Duke's nominee, and as the Duke had no nominee, Mr Lopez was in fact 'nowhere'.
'I don't' suppose that any man was ever so treated before, since members were first returned to Parliament,' said Lopez.
'Well, sir;--yes, sir; it is a little hard.But, you see, sir, her Grace meant the best.Her Grace did mean the best, no doubt.
It may be, sir, there was a little misunderstanding;--a little misunderstanding at the Castle, sir.' Then Mr Sprugeon retired, and Lopez understood that he was to see nothing more of the ironmonger.
Of course there was nothing for him now but to retire;--to shake the dust off his feet and get out of Silverbridge as quickly as he could.But his friends had all deserted him and he did not know how to retire.He had paid 500 pounds, and he had a strong opinion that a portion at least of the money should be returned to him.He had a keen sense of ill-usage, and at the same time a feeling that he ought not to run out of the borough like a whipt dog, without showing his face to any one.But his strongest suspicion at this moment was one of hatred against Arthur Fletcher.He was sure that Arthur Fletcher would be the new member.He did not put the least trust in Mr Du Boung.He had taught himself really to think that Fletcher had insulted him by writing to his wife, and that a further insult had been offered to him at that meeting in the street.He had told his wife that he would ask Fletcher to give up the borough, and that he would make the request with a horsewhip in his hand.It was too late now to say anything of the borough, but it might not be too late for the horsewhip.He had a great desire to make good that threat as far as the horsewhip was concerned,--having an idea that he would thus lower Fletcher in his wife's eyes.It was not that he was jealous,--not jealous in the ordinary meaning of the word.His wife's love to himself had been too recently given and too warmly maintained for such a feeling as that.But there was a rancorous hatred in his heart against the man, and a conviction that his wife at any rate esteemed a man whom he hated.And then would he not make his retreat from the borough with more honour if before he left he could horsewhip his successful antagonist?
We, who know the feeling of Englishmen generally better than Mr Lopez did, would say--certainly not.We would think that such an incident would by no means redound to the credit of Mr Lopez.
And he himself, probably, at cooler moments, would have seen the folly of such an idea.But anger about the borough had driven him mad, and now in his wretchedness the suggestion had for him a certain charm.The man had outraged all propriety by writing to his wife.Of course he would be justified in horsewhipping him.
But there were difficulties.A man is not horsewhipped simply because you wish to horsewhip him.
In the evening, as he was sitting alone, he got a note from Mr Sprugeon.'Mr Sprugeon's compliments.Doesn't Mr Lopez think an address to the electors should appear in tomorrow's "Gazette",--very short and easy;--something like the following.' Then Mr Sprugeon added a very 'short and easy letter' to the electors of the borough of Silverbridge, in which Mr Lopez was supposed to tell them that although his canvass had promised him every success, he felt that he owed it to the borough to retire, lest he should injure the borough by splitting the Liberal interest with their much respected fellow-townsman, Mr Du Boung.In the course of the evening he did copy that letter, and sent it out to the newspaper office.He must retire, and it was better for him that he should retire after some recognized fashion.But he wrote another letter also, and sent it over to the opposition hotel.The other letter was as follows:
SIR
