292
WYLDER'S HAJVD.
After a little more talk, Lake and the Town Clerk re-
sumed their electioneering conference, and the lists of
electors were passed under their scrutiny, name ^jflfftame,
like slides under the miscroscope. f
The Town Clerk knew the constituency of Dollington
at his fingers'ends; and Stanley Lake quietly .enjoyed,
as certain minds will, the nefarious and shabfe^Setamor-
phosis which every now and then some fami^^and res-
pectable burgess underwent, in the spell / / half-a-dozen
dry sentences whispered in his ear; and£-all this minute
information is trustworthy and quite without malice.
I went to my bedroom, and secured the door, lest Un-
cle Lome, or Julius, should make me another midnight
visit. So that mystery was cleared up. Neither ghost
nor spectral illusion, but flesh and blood — though in my
mind there has always been a horror of a madman akin to
the ghostly or demoniac.
I do not know how late Tom Wealdon and Stanley
Lake sat up over their lists; but I dare say they were in
no hurry to leave them, for a dissolution was just then ex-
pected, and no time was to be lost.
When I saw Tom Wealdon alone next day in the street
of Gylingden, he walked a little way with me, and, said
Tom, with a grave wink —
"Don't let the Captain up there be hard on the poor
old gentleman. He's quite harmless — he would not hurt
a fly. I know about him; for Jack Ford and I spent five
weeks in the Hall, about twelve years ago, when the fam-
ily were away and thought the keeper was not kind to him.
He fancies he's a prophet: and says he's that old Sir
Lome Brandon that shot himself in his bedroom. Well,
he is a rum one; and we used to draw him out — poor
|H Jack and me. But he's as innocent as a child — and you
^iknow them directions in the will is very strong; and they