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Basingstoke’s?”
    “Be happy to do what we can, both of us. I wouldn’t count too heavily on Basingstoke, though. Not a bright chap. Not bright.”
    “Not squeamish, I hope?”
    “He does pretty well what I tell him.”
    “Good. Now fill me in on the local issues.”
    “Just what you’d expect in a farming community—the price of grain, of course. With the farmers all for the Corn Laws, a Whig has no chance, no chance at all.”
    “Crockett seems a thriving community. The merchants with a vote must nearly equal the farmers; I saw a few small manufactories on the way here. A tanning factory, and as far as that goes, the farmers don’t all grow grain. The Corn Laws are no benefit to those who grow other foods. The livestock growers, for instance, can’t relish the high cost of grain.”
    “There’s only a handful of them, not enough to counterbalance the corn vote. They like to have their member be of the party in power, too. An opposition member can do little for them.”
    “I keep hearing something about a bridge to Chepstow. What exactly is the score on that?”
    “There used to be one ten years ago and it was washed away and never replaced. The government keeps promising us one—every election the promise is renewed and never kept. Well, they know they have this riding sewed up, don’t worry about it. It would be a very good thing for the townspeople and the farmers, too, to get to their northern market.”
    “Tories aren’t the only ones who can build bridges.”
    “They control the purse. I hope you don’t expect us to pay for a bridge out of our own pockets. It would cost thousands, and the place would still go Tory.”
    “Would you care to make a small wager, milord?”
    “Yes, by God, or better, a large one.”
    “Shall we say five hundred pounds?”
    “Clap hands on a bargain!”Lord Allingham said.
    There was nothing further to be gained from a colleague who considered theelection lost before the campaign was begun, so Hudson herded his man back to the village, there to go into every shop and make a purchase in order to gain an introduction to the voters. He contrived to make himself agreeable by praising their stores, their wares, their village, their wives and daughters and anything else that belonged to them. He soon became aware that Mr. Fellows was not warmly greeted anywhere. He was only dimly recognized and kept at a respectful distance.
    “Be a little friendlier if you can, Mr. Fellows,”he advised.
    “It don’t do to be too friendly with Cits,”the man answered. “They will expect to be first-naming me and eating at my table if I start that. If you lie down with dogs, you get fleas.”
    “They had better be first-naming you and eating at your table if you wish to win this election, and never mind the fleas. I shall call you Tony to give them the lead. You might as well call me Matt, as we are to live in each other’s pocket the next month. Now, we are going into this shop here—what is it? A greengrocer—for God’s sake buy something.”
    “Meadows doesn’t keep a thing in his shop worth buying. Withered turnips, wilted cabbages and sprouting onions, all at a huge price.”
    “The best wilted vegetables you have ever seen, Tony. Buy a bushel of each, and don’t haggle about the price.”
    “I have my root cellar full of better stuff than he sells.”
    “These are for distribution to the needy. Open up that fat purse of yours, if you want to be the Honorable Anthony Fellows, M.P.”The lately deceased incumbent of the riding, the Rt. Honorable. James Farrington, owed his Honorable to being a Member of the Privy Council, but this detail did not bother Fellows, nor did it bother Hudson much to throw in this unearned perquisite.
    A title before his name and letters after it—just like a lord or a university graduate, or both rolled into one inestimable whole. “By Jove,”said Fellows, smiling, “I’ll do it. Money, eh, Matt? The old sine qua non’s, as you