of a different kind ascended.

"Burrows! 'Ere's Burrows! Three cheers for Burrows!"

And some distance behind them, at the corner of the village street,
Tressady suddenly perceived a tall dogcart drawing up with two men in it.
It was already surrounded by a cheering and tumultuous assembly, and one
of the men in the cart was shaking hands right and left.

George drew in his head, with a laugh. "This is dramatic. They've stopped
the horses, and here's Burrows!"

Fontenoy shrugged his shoulders. "They'll blackguard us a bit, I suppose,
and let us go. Burrows 'll keep them in order."

"What d'yer mean by it, heh, dash yer!" shouted a huge man, as he sprang
on the step of the carriage and shook a black fist in Tressady's
face--"thrustin yer d----d carkiss where yer ain't wanted? We wanted
'_im_, and we've worked for 'im. This is a workin-class district, an
we've a _right_ to 'im. Do yer 'ear?"

"Then you should have given him seventeen more votes," said George,
composedly, as he thrust his hands into his pockets. "It's the fortunes
of war--your turn next time. I say, suppose you tell your fellows to let
our man get on. We've had a long day, and we're hungry. Ah"--to
Fontenoy--"here's Burrows coming!"

Fontenoy turned, and saw that the dogcart had drawn up alongside them,
and that one of the men was standing on the step of it, holding on to the
rail of the cart.