ard to
a triumphant return. But things had been said, and published, which
the excitement of an election could not justify, and as to these
things he must have recourse to the law. Then he made some allusion to
the Princes and the Emperor, and concluded by observing that it was
the proudest boast of his life to be an Englishman and a Londoner.

It was asserted afterwards that this was the only good speech he
had ever been known to make; and it was certainly successful, as
he was applauded throughout Covent Garden. A reporter for the
'Breakfast-Table' who was on duty at the place, looking for paragraphs
as to the conduct of electors, gave an account of the speech in that
paper, and made more of it, perhaps, than it deserved. It was asserted
afterwards, and given as a great proof of Melmotte's cleverness, that
he had planned the thing and gone to Covent Garden all alone having
considered that in that way could he best regain a step in reputation;
but in truth the affair had not been pre-concerted. It was while in
Whitehall Place that he had first thought of going to Covent Garden,
and he had had no idea of making a speech till the people had gathered
round him.

It was then noon, and he had to determine what he should do next. He
was half inclined to go round to all the booths and make speeches. His
success at Covent Garden had been very pleasant to him. But he feared
that he might not be so successful elsewhere. He had shown that he was
not afraid of the electors. Then an idea struck him that he would go
boldly into the City,--to his own offices in Abchurch Lane. He had
determined to be absent on this day, and would not be expected. But
his appearance there could not on that account be taken amiss.
Whatever enmities there might be, or whatever perils, he would face
them. He got a cab therefore and had himself driven to Abchurch Lane.

The clerks were hanging about doing nothing, as though it were a
holiday. The dinner, the election, and the rumour together had
altogether demoralized them. But some of them at least were there, and
they showed no signs of absolute insubordination. 'Mr Grendall has not
been here?' he asked. No; Mr Grendall had not been there; but Mr
Cohenlupe was in Mr Grendall's room. At this moment he hardly desired
to see Mr Cohenlupe. That gentleman was privy to many of his
transactions, but was by no means privy to them all. Mr Cohenlupe knew
that the estate at Pickering had been purchased, and knew