Courtier could see Miltoun.
A voice far away cried: "Up; Chilcox!" A huge: "Husill" followed; then such a silence, that the sound of an engine shunting a mile away could be heard plainly.
The dark figure moved forward, and a tiny square of paper gleamed out white against the black of his frock-coat.
"Ladies and gentlemen.

Result of the Poll: "Miltoun Four thousand eight hundred and ninety-eight.

Chilcox Four thousand eight hundred and two." The silence seemed to fall to earth, and break into a thousand pieces.
Through the pandemonium of cheers and groaning, Courtier with all his strength forced himself towards the balcony.

He could see Lord Valleys leaning forward with a broad smile; Lady Valleys passing her hand across her eyes; Barbara with her hand in Harbinger's, looking straight into his face.

He stopped.