 was indeed another affair, which had been
contemporary with this, that had once more brought these mortal enemies into a
state of contest, and had contributed to raise into a temper little short of
madness, the already inflamed and corrosive bitterness of Mr. Tyrrel.
    There was a tenant of Mr. Tyrrel, one Hawkins; - I cannot mention his name
without recollecting the painful tragedies that are annexed to it! This Hawkins
had originally been taken up by Mr. Tyrrel with a view of protecting him from
the arbitrary proceedings of a neighbouring squire, though he had now in his
turn become an object of persecution to Mr. Tyrrel himself. The first ground of
their connection was this. Hawkins, beside a farm which he rented under the
abovementioned squire, had a small freehold estate that he inherited from his
father. This of course entitled him to a vote in the county elections; and, a
warmly contested election having occurred, he was required by his landlord to
vote for the candidate in whose favour he had himself engaged. Hawkins refused
to obey the mandate, and soon after received notice to quit the farm he at that
time rented.
    It happened that Mr. Tyrrel had interested himself strongly in behalf of the
opposite candidate; and, as Mr. Tyrrel's estate bordered upon the seat of
Hawkins's present residence, the ejected countryman could think of no better
expedient than that of riding over to this gentleman's mansion, and relating the
case to him. Mr. Tyrrel heard him through with attention. Well, friend, said he,
it is very true that I wished Mr. Jackman to carry his election; but you know it
is usual in these cases for tenants to vote just as their landlords please. I do
not think proper to encourage rebellion. - All that is very right, and please
you, replied Hawkins; and I would have voted at my landlord's bidding for any
other man in the kingdom but squire Marlow. You must know one day his huntsman
rode over my fence, and so through, my best field of standing corn. It was not
above a dozen yards about, if he had kept the cart-road. The fellow had served
me the same sauce, an it please your honour, three or four times before. So I
only asked him, What he did that for, and whether he had not more conscience
than to spoil people's crops o' that fashion? Presently the squire came up. He
is but a poor, weazen-face chicken of a gentleman, saving your honour's
reverence.
