The churchwarden was placed in the clerk's desk to receive votes.

Not far off, the sheriff sat in his family-pew, bare-headed; by his grave and reverent manner imposing due decorum, which was carefully observed by all except Lord Luxmore and Mr.Brithwood.
These two, apparently sure of their cause, had recovered their spirits, and talked and laughed loudly on the other side of the church.

It was a very small building, narrow and cruciform; every word said in it was distinctly audible throughout.
"My lord, gentlemen, and my friends all," said Sir Ralph, rising gravely, "let me hope that every one will respect the sanctity of this place." Lord Luxmore, who had been going about with his dazzling diamond snuff-box and equally dazzling smile, stopped in the middle of the aisle, bowed, replied, "With pleasure--certainly!" and walked inside the communion rail, as if believing that his presence there conveyed the highest compliment he could pay the spot.
The poll began in perfect silence.

One after the other, three farmers went up and voted for Mr.Vermilye.

There was snuff under their noses--probably something heavier than snuff in their pockets.
Then came up the big, grey-headed fellow I have before mentioned--Jacob Baines.