on, he strode towards Wilson. "You dare not repeat
those words!" he said, scarcely knowing what was passing his lips.

"Repeat!" said Wilson. "I shall repeat what I like, and scum like you
shall never stop me. Who are you that you should dare to be here among
gentlemen? You may have been elected by the riff-raff of the town, but
that does not hinder you from being what you are--a workhouse brat. It
does not hinder your mother from being----" And again he uttered words
which I will not write down.

Paul forgot where he was now. The day's election, his longing to keep
away from vulgar quarrels, all his ambitions became forgotten in the
passion of the moment. A second later Ned Wilson was lying on the
floor, blood flowing from his mouth. A blow from Paul had laid him
prostrate, almost senseless. What Paul would have done to him, I do
not know, but he was held back by many strong arms. "No, no,
Stepaside," men said. "This is a bad beginning for your new career.
If this gets out in the town, and it's almost bound to----"

"I don't care," interrupted Paul. "No man could hear what he has said
without resenting it. Let me go, I tell you!"

By this time Wilson had risen. The blow, while it had partially
stunned him, had also to some extent sobered him. For a few seconds
the two men looked at each other, each with great passion in his eyes.

"Remember," said Wilson, "I'll pay you out for this! By God! I'll pay
you for this! You and I have had our knives in each other for a long
time, and I have always got the better of you, and I will again, in
spite of this!" And he left the club with a look of murder in his eyes.

Paul also left immediately after. In spite of his day's victory, he
was heartily ashamed of what he had done, and yet the mad anger in his
heart caused by what Wilson had said kept him from regretting the blow
he had struck.

"He is right," said one of the men who had witnessed the affair.
"He'll pay thee out for this, Paul. Ned Wilson is a chap that never
forgives, never forgets."

"If it comes to paying out," said Paul, "I've a bigger score than he
has, and he'll always find me ready."

"It serves him jolly well right," said the Honourable Stephen Boston.
"I wonder Stepaside did not kill him! I know I would if anyone said
such a thing to me! All the same, I am sorry it has taken place. Had
I known Wilson was here I would not have asked Stepaside to join us."

When Paul reached his