m, they will be thwarting the people or corrupting
them: and in that case we shall have our despot in some shape or other,
and we shall suffer.'

'Nevil,' said Cecilia, 'I am out of my depth.'

'I'll support you; I can swim for two,' said he.

'You are very self-confident, but I find I am not fit for battle; at
least not in the front ranks.'

'Nerve me, then: will you? Try to comprehend once for all what the battle
is.'

'I am afraid I am too indifferent; I am too luxurious. That reminds me:
you want to meet your uncle Everard and if you will sleep at Mount
Laurels to-night, the Esperanza shall take you to France to-morrow
morning, and can wait to bring you back.'

As she spoke she perceived a flush mounting over Nevil's face. Soon it
was communicated to hers.

The strange secret of the blood electrified them both, and revealed the
burning undercurrent running between them from the hearts of each. The
light that showed how near they were to one another was kindled at the
barrier dividing them. It remained as good as a secret, unchallenged
until they had separated, and after midnight Cecilia looked through her.
chamber windows at the driving moon of a hurricane scud, and read clearly
his honourable reluctance to be wafted over to his French love by her
assistance; and Beauchamp on board the tossing steamboat perceived in her
sympathetic reddening that she had divined him.

This auroral light eclipsed the other events of the day. He drove into a
town royally decorated, and still humming with the ravishment of the Tory
entrance. He sailed in the schooner to Mount Laurels, in the society of
Captain Baskelett and his friends, who, finding him tamer than they
expected, bantered him in the cheerfullest fashion. He waited for his
uncle Everard several hours at Mount Laurels, perused the junior Tory's
address to the Electors, throughout which there was not an idea--safest
of addresses to canvass upon! perused likewise, at Captain Baskelett's
request, a broad sheet of an article introducing the new candidate to
Bevisham with the battle-axe Romfreys to back him, in high burlesque of
Timothy Turbot upon Beauchamp: and Cecil hoped his cousin would not
object to his borrowing a Romfrey or two for so pressing an occasion. All
very funny, and no doubt the presence of Mr. Everard Romfrey would have
heightened the fun from the fountain-head; but he happened to be delayed,
and Beauchamp had to leave directions behind him in the t