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+The Project Gutenberg EBook The Money Master, by Gilbert Parker, V3
+#104 in our series by Gilbert Parker
+
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+Title: The Money Master, Volume 3.
+
+Author: Gilbert Parker
+
+Release Date: August, 2004  [EBook #6277]
+[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
+[This file was first posted on November 28, 2002]
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+Edition: 10
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+Language: English
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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MONEY MASTER, PARKER, V3***
+
+
+
+This eBook was produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+THE MONEY MASTER
+
+By Gilbert Parker
+
+
+
+EPOCH THE THIRD
+
+XIII.     THE MAN FROM OUTSIDE
+XIV.      "I DO NOT WANT TO GO"
+XV.       BON MARCHE
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+THE MAN FROM OUTSIDE
+
+                   "Oh, who will walk the wood with me,
+                    I fear to walk alone;
+                    So young am I, as you may see;
+                    No dangers have I known.
+                    So young, so small--ah, yes, m'sieu',
+                    I'll walk the wood with you!"
+
+
+In the last note of the song applause came instantaneously, almost
+impatiently, as it might seem.  With cries of "Encore!  Encore!" it
+lasted some time, while the happy singer looked around with frank
+pleasure on the little group encircling her in the Manor Cartier.
+
+"Did you like it so much?" she asked in a general way, and not looking
+at any particular person.  A particular person, however, replied, and she
+had addressed the question to him, although not looking at him.  He was
+the Man from Outside, and he sat near the bright wood-fire; for though it
+was almost June the night was cool and he was delicate.
+
+"Ah, but splendid, but splendid--it got into every corner of every one of
+us," the Man from Outside responded, speaking his fluent French with a
+slight English accent, which had a pleasant piquancy--at least to the
+ears of the pretty singer, Mdlle. Zoe Barbille.  He was a man of about
+thirty-three, clean-shaven, dark-haired, with an expression of
+cleverness; yet with an irresponsible something about him which M. Fille
+had reflected upon with concern.  For this slim, eager, talkative, half-
+invalid visitor to St. Saviour's had of late shown a marked liking for
+the presence and person of Zoe Barbille; and Zoe was as dear to M. Fille
+as though she were his own daughter.  He it was who, in sarcasm, had
+spoken of this young stranger as "The Man from Outside."
+
+Ever since Zoe's mother had vanished--alone--seven years before from the
+Manor Cartier, or rather from his office at Vilray, M. Fille had been as
+much like a maiden aunt or a very elder brother to the Spanische's
+daughter as a man could be.  Of M. Fille's influence over his daughter
+and her love of his companionship, Jean Jacques had no jealousy whatever.
+Very often indeed, when he felt incompetent to do for his child all that
+he wished--philosophers are often stupid in human affairs--he thought it
+was a blessing Zoe had a friend like M. Fille.  Since the terrible day
+when he found that his wife had gone from him--not with the master-
+carpenter who only made his exit from Laplatte some years afterwards--he
+had had no desire to have a woman at the Manor to fill her place, even as
+housekeeper.  He had never swerved from that.  He had had a hard row to
+hoe, but he had hoed it with a will not affected by domestic accidents or
+inconveniences.  The one woman from outside whom he permitted to go and
+come at will--and she did not come often, because she and M. Fille agreed
+it would be best not to do so--was the sister of the Cure.  To be sure
+there was Seraphe Corniche, the old cook, but she was buried in her
+kitchen, and Jean Jacques treated her like a man.
+
+When Zoe was confirmed, and had come back from Montreal, having spent two
+years in a convent there--the only time she had been away from her father
+in seven years--having had her education chiefly from a Catholic
+"brother," the situation developed in a new way.  Zoe at once became
+as conspicuous in the country-side as her father had been over so many
+years.  She was fresh, volatile, without affectation or pride, and had
+a temperament responsive to every phase of life's simple interests.
+She took the attention of the young men a little bit as her due, but yet
+without conceit.  The gallants had come about her like bees, for there
+was Jean Jacques' many businesses and his reputation for wealth; and
+there was her own charm, concerning which there could be far less doubt
+than about Jean Jacques' magnificent solvency.
+
+Zoe had gone heart-whole and with no especial preference for any young
+man, until the particular person came, the Man from Outside.
+
+His name was Gerard Fynes, and his business was mumming.  He was a young
+lawyer turned actor, and he had lived in Montreal before he went on the
+stage.  He was English--that was a misfortune; he was an actor--that was
+a greater misfortune, for it suggested vagabondage of morals as well as
+of profession; and he was a Protestant, which was the greatest misfortune
+of all.  But he was only at St. Saviour's for his convalescence after a
+so-called attack of congestion of the lungs; and as he still had a slight
+cough and looked none too robust, and as, more than all, he was simple
+in his ways, enjoying the life of the parish with greater zest than the
+residents, he found popularity.  Undoubtedly he had a taking way with
+him.  He was lodging with Louis Charron, a small farmer and kinsman of
+Jean Jacques, who sold whisky--"white whisky"--without a license.  It was
+a Charron family habit to sell liquor illegally, and Louis pursued the
+career with all an amateur's enthusiasm.  He had a sovereign balm for
+"colds," composed of camomile flowers, boneset, liquorice, pennyroyal and
+gentian root, which he sold to all comers; and it was not unnatural that
+a visitor with weak lungs should lodge with him.
+
+Louis and his wife had only good things to say about Gerard Fynes; for
+the young man lived their life as though he was born to it.  He ate the
+slap-jacks, the buttermilk-pop, the pork and beans, the Indian corn on
+the cob, the pea-soup, and the bread baked in the roadside oven, with a
+relish which was not all pretence; for indeed he was as primitive as he
+was subtle.  He himself could not have told how much of him was true and
+how much was make-believe.  But he was certainly lovable, and he was not
+bad by nature.  Since coming to St. Saviour's he had been constant to one
+attraction, and he had not risked his chances with Zoe by response to the
+shy invitations of dark eyes, young and not so young, which met his own
+here and there in the parish.
+
+Only M. Fille and Jean Jacques himself had feelings of real antagonism to
+him.  Jean Jacques, though not naturally suspicious, had, however, seen
+an understanding look pass between his Zoe and this stranger--this
+Protestant English stranger from the outer world, to which Jean Jacques
+went less frequently since his fruitless search for his vanished Carmen.
+The Clerk of the Court saw that Jean Jacques had observed the intimate
+glances of the two young people, and their eyes met in understanding.  It
+was just before Zoe had sung so charmingly, 'Oh, Who Will Walk the Wood
+With Me'.
+
+At first after Carmen's going Jean Jacques had found it hard to endure
+singing in his house.  Zoe's trilling was torture to him, though he had
+never forbidden her to sing, and she had sung on to her heart's content.
+By a subtle instinct, however, and because of the unspoken sorrow in her
+own heart, she never sang the songs like 'La Manola'.  Never after the
+day Carmen went did Zoe speak of her mother to anyone at all.  It was
+worse than death; it was annihilation, so far as speech was concerned.
+The world at large only knew that Carmen Barbille had run away, and that
+even Sebastian Dolores her father did not know where she was.  The old
+man had not heard from her, and he seldom visited at the Manor Cartier or
+saw his grand-daughter.  His own career of late years had been marked by
+long sojourns in Quebec, Montreal and even New York; yet he always came
+back to St. Saviour's when he was penniless, and was there started afresh
+by Jean Jacques.  Some said that Carmen had gone back to Spain, but
+others discredited that, for, if she had done so, certainly old Sebastian
+Dolores would have gone also.  Others continued to insist that she had
+gone off with a man; but there was George Masson at Laplatte living
+alone, and never going twenty miles away from home, and he was the only
+person under suspicion.  Others again averred that since her flight
+Carmen had become a loose woman in Montreal; but the New Cure came down
+on that with a blow which no one was tempted to invite again.
+
+M. Savry's method of punishing was of a kind to make men shrink.  If
+Carmen Barbille had become a loose woman in Montreal, how did any member
+of his flock know that it was the case?  What company had he kept in
+Montreal that he could say that?  Did he see the woman--or did he hear
+about her?  And if he heard, what sort of company was he keeping when he
+went to Montreal without his wife to hear such things?  That was final,
+and the slanderer was under a cloud for a time, by reason of the anger of
+his own wife.  It was about this time that the good priest preached from
+the text, "Judge not that ye be not judged," and said that there were
+only ten commandments on the tables of stone; but that the ten included
+all the commandments which the Church made for every man, and which every
+man, knowing his own weakness, must also make for himself.
+
+His flock understood, though they did refrain, every one, from looking
+towards the place where Jean Jacques sat with Ma'm'selle--she was always
+called that, as though she was a great lady; or else she was called "the
+little Ma'm'selle Zoe," even when she had grown almost as tall as her
+mother had been.
+
+Though no one looked towards the place where Jean Jacques and his
+daughter sat when this sermon was preached, and although Zoe seemed not
+to apprehend personal reference in the priest's words, when she reached
+home, after talking to her father about casual things all the way, she
+flew to her room, and, locking the door, flung herself on her bed and
+cried till her body felt as though it had been beaten by rods.  Then
+she suddenly got up and, from a drawer, took out two things--an old
+photograph of her mother at the time of her marriage, and Carmen's
+guitar, which she had made her own on the day after the flight, and had
+kept hidden ever since.  She lay on the bed with her cheek pressed to the
+guitar, and her eyes hungrily feeding on the face of a woman whose beauty
+belonged to spheres other than where she had spent the thirteen years of
+her married life.
+
+Zoe had understood more even at the time of the crisis than they thought
+she did, child though she was; and as the years had gone on she had
+grasped the meaning of it all more clearly perhaps than anyone at all
+except her adored friends Judge Carcasson, at whose home she had visited
+in Montreal, and M. Fille.
+
+The thing last rumoured about her mother in the parish was that she had
+become an actress.  To this Zoe made no protest in her mind.  It was
+better than many other possibilities, and she fixed her mind on it, so
+saving herself from other agonizing speculations.  In a fixed imagination
+lay safety.  In her soul she knew that, no matter what happened, her
+mother would never return to the Manor Cartier.
+
+The years had not deepened confidence between father and daughter.  A
+shadow hung between them.  They laughed and talked together, were even
+boisterous in their fun sometimes, and yet in the eyes of both was the
+forbidden thing--the deserted city into which they could not enter.  He
+could not speak to the child of the shame of her mother; she could not
+speak of that in him which had contributed to that mother's shame--the
+neglect which existed to some degree in her own life with him.  This was
+chiefly so because his enterprises had grown to such a number and height,
+that he seemed ever to be counting them, ever struggling to the height,
+while none of his ventures ever reached that state of success when it
+"ran itself", although as years passed men called him rich, and he spent
+and loaned money so freely that they called him the Money Master, or the
+Money Man Wise, in deference to his philosophy.
+
+Zoe was not beautiful, but there was a wondrous charm in her deep brown
+eyes and in the expression of her pretty, if irregular, features.
+Sometimes her face seemed as small as that of a young child, and alive
+with eerie fancies; and always behind her laughter was something which
+got into her eyes, giving them a haunting melancholy.  She had no signs
+of hysteria, though now and then there came heart-breaking little
+outbursts of emotion which had this proof that they were not hysteria--
+they were never seen by others.  They were sacred to her own solitude.
+While in Montreal she had tasted for the first time the joys of the
+theatre, and had then secretly read numbers of plays, which she bought
+from an old bookseller, who was wise enough to choose them for her.  She
+became possessed of a love for the stage even before Gerard Fynes came
+upon the scene.  The beginning of it all was the rumour that her mother
+was now an actress; yet the root-cause was far down in a temperament
+responsive to all artistic things.
+
+The coming of the Man from Outside acted on the confined elements of her
+nature like the shutter of a camera.  It let in a world of light upon
+unexplored places, it set free elements of being which had not before
+been active.  She had been instantly drawn to Gerard Fynes.  He had the
+distance from her own life which provoked interest, and in that distance
+was the mother whom perhaps it was her duty to forget, yet for whom she
+had a longing which grew greater as the years went on.
+
+Gerard Fynes could talk well, and his vivid pictures of his short play-
+acting career absorbed her; and all the time she was vigilant for some
+name, for the description of some actress which would seem to be a clue
+to the lost spirit of her life.  This clue never came, but before she
+gave up hope of it, the man had got nearer to her than any man had ever
+done.
+
+After meeting him she awoke to the fact that there was a difference
+between men, that it was not the same thing to be young as to be old;
+that the reason why she could kiss the old Judge and the little Clerk of
+the Court, and not kiss, say, the young manager of the great lumber firm
+who came every year for a fortnight's fishing at St. Saviour's, was one
+which had an understandable cause and was not a mere matter of individual
+taste.  She had been good friends with this young manager, who was only
+thirty years of age, and was married, but when he had wanted to kiss her
+on saying good-bye one recent summer, she had said, "Oh, no, oh, no, that
+would spoil it all!"  Yet when he had asked her why, and what she meant,
+she could not tell him.  She did not know; but by the end of the first
+week after Gerard Fynes had been brought to the Manor Cartier by Louis
+Charron, she knew.
+
+She had then been suddenly awakened from mere girlhood.  Judge Carcasson
+saw the difference in her on a half-hour's visit as he passed westward,
+and he had said to M. Fille, "Who is the man, my keeper of the treasure?"
+The reply had been of such a sort that the Judge was startled:
+
+"Tut, tut," he had exclaimed, "an actor--an actor once a lawyer!  That's
+serious.  She's at an age--and with a temperament like hers she'll
+believe anything, if once her affections are roused.  She has a flair for
+the romantic, for the thing that's out of reach--the bird on the highest
+branch, the bird in the sky beyond ours, the song that was lost before
+time was, the light that never was on sea or land.  Why, damn it, damn it
+all, my Solon, here's the beginning of a case in Court unless we can lay
+the fellow by the heels!  How long is he here for?"
+
+When M. Fille had told him that he would stay for another month for
+certain, and no doubt much longer, if there seemed a prospect of winning
+the heiress of the Manor Cartier, the Judge gave a groan.
+
+"We must get him away, somehow," he said.  "Where does he stay?"
+
+"At the house of Louis Charron," was the reply.  "Louis Charron--isn't
+he the fellow that sells whisky without a license?"
+
+"It is so, monsieur."
+
+The Judge moved his head from side to side like a bear in a cage.  "It is
+that, is it, my Fille?  By the thumb of the devil, isn't it time then
+that Louis Charron was arrested for breaking the law?  Also how do we
+know but that the interloping fellow Fynes is an agent for a whisky firm
+perhaps?  Couldn't he, then, on suspicion, be arrested with--"
+
+The Clerk of the Court shook his head mournfully.  His Judge was surely
+becoming childish in his old age.  He looked again closely at the great
+man, and saw a glimmer of moisture in the grey eyes.  It was clear that
+Judge Carcasson felt deeply the dangers of the crisis, and that the
+futile outburst had merely been the agitated protest of the helpless.
+
+"The man is what he says he is--an actor; and it would be folly to arrest
+him.  If our Zoe is really fond of him, it would only make a martyr of
+him."
+
+As he made this reply M. Fille looked furtively at the other--out of the
+corner of his eye, as it were.  The reply of the Judge was impatient,
+almost peevish and rough.  "Did you think I was in earnest, my
+punchinello?  Surely I don't look so young as all that.  I am over sixty-
+five, and am therefore mentally developed!"
+
+M. Fille was exactly sixty-five years of age, and the blow was a shrewd
+one.  He drew himself up with rigid dignity.
+
+"You must feel sorry sometimes for those who suffered when your mind was
+undeveloped, monsieur," he answered.  "You were a judge at forty-nine,
+and you defended poor prisoners for twenty years before that."
+
+The Judge was conquered, and he was never the man to pretend he was not
+beaten when he was.  He admired skill too much for that.  He squeezed M.
+Fille's arm and said:
+
+"I've been quick with my tongue myself, but I feel sure now, that it's
+through long and close association with my Clerk of the Court."
+
+"Ah, monsieur, you are so difficult to understand!" was the reply.
+"I have known you all these years, and yet--"
+
+"And yet you did not know how much of the woman there was in me!  .  .  .
+But yes, it is that.  It is that which I fear with our Zoe.  Women break
+out--they break out, and then there is the devil to pay.  Look at her
+mother.  She broke out.  It was not inevitable.  It was the curse of
+opportunity, the wrong thing popping up to drive her mad at the wrong
+moment.  Had the wrong thing come at the right time for her, when she was
+quite sane, she would be yonder now with our philosopher.  Perhaps she
+would not be contented if she were there, but she would be there; and as
+time goes on, to be where we were in all things which concern the
+affections, that is the great matter."
+
+"Ah, yes, ah, yes," was the bright-eyed reply of that Clerk, "there is no
+doubt of that!  My sister and I there, we are fifty years together, never
+with the wrong thing at the wrong time, always the thing as it was,
+always to be where we were."
+
+The Judge shook his head.  "There is an eternity of difference, Fille,
+between the sister and brother and the husband and wife.  The sacredness
+of isolation is the thing which holds the brother and sister together.
+The familiarity of--but never mind what it is that so often forces
+husband and wife apart.  It is there, and it breaks out in rebellion as
+it did with the wife of Jean Jacques Barbille.  As she was a strong woman
+in her way, it spoiled her life, and his too when it broke out."
+
+M. Fille's face lighted with memory and feeling.  "Ah, a woman of
+powerful emotions, monsieur, that is so!  I think I never told you, but
+at the last, in my office, when she went, she struck George Masson in the
+face.  It was a blow that--but there it was; I have never liked to think
+of it.  When I do, I shudder.  She was a woman who might have been in
+other circumstances--but there!"
+
+The Judge suddenly stopped in his walk and faced round on his friend.
+"Did you ever know, my Solon," he said, "that it was not Jean Jacques who
+saved Carmen at the wreck of the Antoine, but it was she who saved him;
+and yet she never breathed of it in all the years.  One who was saved
+from the Antoine told me of it.  Jean Jacques was going down.  Carmen
+gave him her piece of wreckage to hang on to, and swam ashore without
+help.  He never gave her the credit.  There was something big in the
+woman, but it did not come out right."
+
+M. Fille threw up his hands.  "Grace de Dieu, is it so that she saved
+Jean Jacques?  Then he would not be here if it had not been for her?"
+
+"That is the obvious deduction, Maitre Fille," replied the Judge.
+
+The Clerk of the Court seemed moved.  "He did not treat her ill.
+I know that he would take her back to-morrow if he could.  He has never
+forgotten.  I saw him weeping one day--it was where she used to sing to
+the flax-beaters by the Beau Cheval.  I put my hand on his shoulder, and
+said, 'I know, I comprehend; but be a philosopher, Jean Jacques.'"
+
+"What did he say?" asked the Judge.
+
+"He drew himself up.  'In my mind, in my soul, I am philosopher always,'
+he said, 'but my eyes are the windows of my heart, m'sieu'.  They look
+out and see the sorrow of one I loved.  It is for her sorrow that I weep,
+not for my own.  I have my child, I have money; the world says to me,
+"How goes it, my friend?"  I have a home--a home; but where is she, and
+what does the world say to her?'"
+
+The Judge shook his head sadly.  "I used to think I knew life, but I come
+to the belief in the end that I know nothing.  Who could have guessed
+that he would have spoken like that!"
+
+"He forgave her, monsieur."
+
+The Judge nodded mournfully.  "Yes, yes, but I used to think it is such
+men who forgive one day and kill the next.  You never can tell where they
+will explode, philosophy or no philosophy."
+
+The Judge was right.  After all the years that had passed since his wife
+had left him, Jean Jacques did explode.  It was the night of his birthday
+party at which was present the Man from Outside.  It was in the hour when
+he first saw what the Clerk of the Court had seen some time before--the
+understanding between Zoe and Gerard Fynes.  It had never occurred to him
+that there was any danger.  Zoe had been so indifferent to the young men
+of St. Saviour's and beyond, had always been so much his friend and the
+friend of those much older than himself, like Judge Carcasson and M.
+Fille, that he had not yet thought of her electing to go and leave him
+alone.
+
+To leave him alone!  To be left alone--it had never become a possibility
+to his mind.  It did not break upon him with its full force all at once.
+He first got the glimmer of it, then the glimmer grew to a glow, and the
+glow to a great red light, in which his brain became drunk, and all his
+philosophy was burned up like wood-shavings in a fiery furnace.
+
+"Did you like it so much?" Zoe had asked when her song was finished, and
+the Man from Outside had replied, "Ah, but splendid, splendid!  It got
+into every corner of every one of us."
+
+"Into the senses--why not into the heart?  Songs are meant for the
+heart," said Zoe.
+
+"Yes, yes, certainly," was the young man's reply, "but it depends upon
+the song whether it touches the heart more than the senses.  Won't you
+sing that perfect thing, 'La Claire Fontaine'?" he added, with eyes as
+bright as passion and the hectic fires of his lung-trouble could make
+them.
+
+She nodded and was about to sing, for she loved the song, and it had been
+ringing in her head all day; but at that point M. Fille rose, and with
+his glass raised high--for at that moment Seraphe Corniche and another
+carried round native wine and cider to the company--he said:
+
+"To Monsieur Jean Jacques Barbille, and his fifty years, good health--
+bonne sante!  This is his birthday.  To a hundred years for Jean
+Jacques!"
+
+Instantly everyone was up with glass raised, and Zoe ran and threw her
+arms round her father's neck.  "Kiss me before you drink," she said.
+
+With a touch almost solemn in its tenderness Jean Jacques drew her head
+to his shoulder and kissed her hair, then her forehead.  "My blessed one
+--my angel," he whispered; but there was a look in his eyes which only M.
+Fille had seen there before.  It was the look which had been in his eyes
+at the flax-beaters' place by the river.
+
+"Sing--father, you must sing," said Zoe, and motioned to the fiddler.
+"Sing It's Fifty Years," she cried eagerly.  They all repeated her
+request, and he could but obey.
+
+Jean Jacques' voice was rather rough, but he had some fine resonant notes
+in it, and presently, with eyes fastened on the distance, and with free
+gesture and much expression, he sang the first verse of the haunting
+ballad of the man who had reached his fifty years:
+
+                   "Wherefore these flowers?
+                    This fete for me?
+                    Ah, no, it is not fifty years,
+                    Since in my eyes the light you see
+                    First shone upon life's joys and tears!
+                    How fast the heedless days have flown
+                    Too late to wail the misspent hours,
+                    To mourn the vanished friends I've known,
+                    To kneel beside love's ruined bowers.
+                    Ah, have I then seen fifty years,
+                    With all their joys and hopes and fears!"
+
+Through all the verses he ranged, his voice improving with each phrase,
+growing more resonant, till at last it rang out with a ragged richness
+which went home to the hearts of all.  He was possessed.  All at once he
+was conscious that the beginning of the end of things was come for him;
+and that now, at fifty, in no sphere had he absolutely "arrived," neither
+in home nor fortune, nor--but yes, there was one sphere of success; there
+was his fatherhood.  There was his daughter, his wonderful Zoe.  He drew
+his eyes from the distance, and saw that her ardent look was not towards
+him, but towards one whom she had known but a few weeks.
+
+Suddenly he stopped in the middle of a verse, and broke forward with his
+arms outstretched, laughing.  He felt that he must laugh, or he would
+cry; and that would be a humiliating thing to do.
+
+"Come, come, my friends, my children, enough of that!" he cried.  "We'll
+have no more maundering.  Fifty years--what are fifty years!  Think of
+Methuselah!  It's summer in the world still, and it's only spring at St.
+Saviour's.  It's the time of the first flowers.  Let's dance--no, no,
+never mind the Cure to-night!  He will not mind.  I'll settle it with
+him.  We'll dance the gay quadrille."
+
+He caught the hands of the two youngest girls present, and nodded at the
+fiddler, who at once began to tune his violin afresh.  One of the joyous
+young girls, however, began to plead with him.
+
+"Ah, no, let us dance, but at the last--not yet, M'sieu' Jean Jacques!
+There is Zoe's song, we must have that, and then we must have charades.
+Here is M'sieu' Fynes--he can make splendid charades for us.  Then the
+dance at the last--ah, yes, yes, M'sieu' Jean Jacques!  Let it be like
+that.  We all planned it, and though it is your birthday, it's us are
+making the fete."
+
+"As you will then, as you will, little ones," Jean Jacques acquiesced
+with a half-sigh; but he did not look at his daughter.  Somehow,
+suddenly, a strange constraint possessed him where Zoe was concerned.
+"Then let us have Zoe's song; let us have 'La Claire Fontaine'," cried
+the black-eyed young madcap who held Jean Jacques' arms.
+
+But Zoe interrupted.  "No, no," she protested, "the singing spell is
+broken.  We will have the song after the charades--after the charades."
+
+"Good, good--after the charades!" they all cried, for there would be
+charades like none which had ever been played before, with a real actor
+to help them, to carry them through as they did on the stage.  To them
+the stage was compounded of mystery, gaiety and the forbidden.
+
+So, for the next half-hour they were all at the disposal of the Man from
+Outside, who worked as though it was a real stage, and they were real
+players, and there were great audiences to see them.  It was all quite
+wonderful, and it involved certain posings, attitudes, mimicry and
+pantomime, for they were really ingenious charades.
+
+So it happened that Zoe's fingers often came in touch with those of the
+stage-manager, that his hands touched her shoulders, that his cheek
+brushed against her dark hair once, and that she had sensations never
+experienced before.  Why was it that she thrilled when she came near to
+him, that her whole body throbbed and her heart fluttered when their
+shoulders or arms touched?  Her childlike nature, with all its warmth and
+vibration of life, had never till now felt the stir of sex in its vital
+sense.  All men had in one way been the same to her; but now she realized
+that there was a world-wide difference between her Judge Carcasson, her
+little Clerk of the Court, and this young man whose eyes drank hers.  She
+had often been excited, even wildly agitated, had been like a sprite let
+loose in quiet ways; but that was mere spirit.  Here was body and senses
+too; here was her whole being alive to a music, which had an aching
+sweetness and a harmony coaxing every sense into delight.
+
+"To-morrow evening, by the flume, where the beechtrees are--come--at six.
+I want to speak with you.  Will you come?"
+
+Thus whispered the maker of this music of the senses, who directed the
+charades, but who was also directing the course of another life than his
+own.
+
+"Yes, if I can," was Zoe's whispered reply, and the words shook as she
+said them; for she felt that their meeting in the beech-trees by the
+flume would be of consequence beyond imagination.
+
+Judge Carcasson had always said that Zoe had judgment beyond her years;
+M. Fille had remarked often that she had both prudence and shrewdness as
+well as a sympathetic spirit; but M. Fille's little whispering sister,
+who could never be tempted away from her home to any house, to whom the
+market and the church were like pilgrimages to distant wilds, had said to
+her brother:
+
+"Wait, Armand--wait till Zoe is waked, and then prudence and wisdom will
+be but accident.  If all goes well, you will see prudence and wisdom; but
+if it does not, you will see--ah, but just Zoe!"
+
+The now alert Jean Jacques had seen the whispering of the two, though he
+did not know what had been said.  It was, however, something secret, and
+if it was secret, then it was--yes, it was love; and love between his
+daughter and that waif of the world--the world of the stage--in which men
+and women were only grown-up children, and bad grown-up children at that
+--it was not to be endured.  One thing was sure, the man should come to
+the Manor Cartier no more.  He would see to that to-morrow.  There would
+be no faltering or paltering on his part.  His home had been shaken to
+its foundations once, and he was determined that it should not fall about
+his ears a second time.  An Englishman, an actor, a Protestant, and a
+renegade lawyer!  It was not to be endured.
+
+The charade now being played was the best of the evening.  One of the
+madcap friends of Zoe was to be a singing-girl.  She was supposed to
+carry a tambourine.  When her turn to enter came, with a look of mischief
+and a gay dancing step, she ran into the room.  In her hands was a
+guitar, not a tambourine.  When Zoe saw the guitar she gave a cry.
+
+"Where did you get that?" she asked in a low, shocked, indignant voice.
+
+"In your room--your bedroom," was the half-frightened answer.  "I saw it
+on the dresser, and I took it."
+
+"Come, come, let's get on with the charade," urged the Man from Outside.
+
+On the instant's pause, in which Zoe looked at her lover almost
+involuntarily, and without fully understanding what he said, someone else
+started forward with a smothered exclamation--of anger, of horror, of
+dismay.  It was Jean Jacques.  He was suddenly transformed.
+
+His eyes were darkened by hideous memory, his face alight with passion.
+He caught from the girl's hands the guitar--Carmen's forgotten guitar
+which he had not seen for seven years--how well he knew it!  With both
+hands he broke it across his knee.  The strings, as they snapped, gave a
+shrill, wailing cry, like a voice stopped suddenly by death.  Stepping
+jerkily to the fireplace he thrust it into the flame.
+
+"Ah, there!" he said savagely.  "There--there!"  When he turned round
+slowly again, his face--which he had never sought to control before he
+had his great Accident seven years ago--was under his command.
+A strange, ironic-almost sardonic-smile was on his lips.
+
+"It's in the play," he said.
+
+"No, it's not in the charade, Monsieur Barbille," said the Man from
+Outside fretfully.
+
+"That is the way I read it, m'sieu'," retorted Jean Jacques, and he made
+a motion to the fiddler.
+
+"The dance!  The dance!" he exclaimed.
+
+But yet he looked little like a man who wished to dance, save upon a
+grave.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+"I DO NOT WANT TO GO"
+
+It is a bad thing to call down a crisis in the night-time.  A "scene" at
+midnight is a savage enemy of ultimate understanding, and that Devil,
+called Estrangement, laughs as he observes the objects of his attention
+in conflict when the midnight candle burns.
+
+He should have been seized with a fit of remorse, however, at the sight
+he saw in the Manor Cartier at midnight of the day when Jean Jacques
+Barbille had reached his fiftieth year.  There is nothing which, for
+pathos and for tragedy, can compare with a struggle between the young
+and the old.
+
+The Devil of Estrangement when he sees it, may go away and indulge
+himself in sleep; for there will be no sleep for those who, one young and
+the other old, break their hearts on each other's anvils, when the lights
+are low and it is long till morning.
+
+When Jean Jacques had broken the forgotten guitar which his daughter had
+retrieved from her mother's life at the Manor Cartier (all else he had
+had packed and stored away in the flour-mill out of sight) and thrown it
+in the fire, there had begun a revolt in the girl's heart, founded on a
+sense of injustice, but which itself became injustice also; and that is a
+dark thing to come between those who love--even as parent and child.
+
+After her first exclamation of dismay and pain, Zoe had regained her
+composure, and during the rest of the evening she was full of feverish
+gaiety.  Indeed her spirits and playful hospitality made the evening a
+success in spite of the skeleton at the feast.  Jean Jacques had also
+roused himself, and, when the dance began, he joined in with spirit,
+though his face was worn and haggard even when lighted by his smile.  But
+though the evening came to the conventional height of hilarity, there was
+a note running through it which made even the youngest look at each
+other, as though to say, "Now, what's going to happen next!"
+
+Three people at any rate knew that something was going to happen.  They
+were Zoe, the Man from Outside and M. Fille.  Zoe had had more than one
+revelation that night, and she felt again as she did one day, seven years
+before, when, coming home from over the hills, she had stepped into a
+house where Horror brooded as palpably as though it sat beside the fire,
+or hung above the family table.  She had felt something as soon as she
+had entered the door that far-off day, though the house seemed empty.  It
+was an emptiness which was filled with a torturing presence or torturing
+presenes.  It had stilled her young heart.  What was it?  She had learned
+the truth soon enough.  Out of the sunset had come her father with a face
+twisted with misery, and as she ran to him, he had caught her by both
+shoulders, looked through her eyes to something far beyond, and hoarsely
+said: "She is gone--gone from us!  She has run away from home!  Curse her
+baptism--curse it, curse it!"
+
+Zoe could never forget these last words she had ever heard her father
+speak of Carmen.  They were words which would make any Catholic shudder
+to hear.  It was a pity he had used them, for they made her think at last
+that her mother had been treated with injustice.  This, in spite of the
+fact that in the days, now so far away, when her mother was with them she
+had ever been nearer to her father, and that, after first childhood, she
+and her mother were not so close as they had been, when she went to sleep
+to the humming of a chanson of Cadiz.  Her own latent motherhood,
+however, kept stealing up out of the dim distances of childhood's
+ignorance and, with modesty and allusiveness, whispering knowledge in
+her ear.  So it was that now she looked back pensively to the years she
+had spent within sight and sound of her handsome mother, and out of the
+hunger of her own spirit she had come to idealize her memory.  It was
+good to have a loving father; but he was a man, and he was so busy just
+when she wanted--when she wanted she knew not what, but at least to go
+and lay her head on a heart that would understand what was her sorrow,
+her joy, or her longing.
+
+And now here at last was come Crisis, which showed its thunderous head in
+the gay dance, and shook his war-locks in the fire, where her mother's
+guitar had shrieked in its last agony.
+
+When all the guests had gone, when the bolts had been shot home, and old
+Seraphe Corniche had gone to bed, father and daughter came face to face.
+
+There was a moment's pause, as the two looked at each other, and then Zoe
+came up to Jean Jacques to kiss him good-night.  It was her way of facing
+the issue.  Instinctively she knew that he would draw back, and that the
+struggle would begin.  It might almost seem that she had invited it; for
+she had let the Man from Outside hold her hand for far longer than
+courtesy required, while her father looked on with fretful eyes--even
+with a murmuring which was not a benediction.  Indeed, he had evaded
+shaking hands with his hated visitor by suddenly offering him a cigar,
+and then in the doorway itself handing a lighted match.
+
+"His eminence, Cardinal Christophe, gave these cigars to me when he
+passed through St. Saviour's five years ago," Jean Jacques had remarked
+loftily, "and I always smoke one on my birthday.  I am a good Catholic,
+and his eminence rested here for a whole day."
+
+He had had a grim pleasure in avoiding the handshake, and in having the
+Protestant outsider smoke the Catholic cigar!  In his anger it seemed to
+him that he had done something worthy almost of the Vatican, indeed of
+the great Cardinal Christophe himself.  Even in his moments of crisis, in
+his hours of real tragedy, in the times when he was shaken to the centre,
+Jean Jacques fancied himself more than a little.  It was as the master-
+carpenter had remarked seven years before, he was always involuntarily
+saying, "Here I come--look at me.  I am Jean Jacques Barbille!"
+
+When Zoe reached out a hand to touch his arm, and raised her face as
+though to kiss him good-night, Jean Jacques drew back.
+
+"Not yet, Zoe," he said.  "There are some things--What is all this
+between you and that man?  .  .  .  I have seen.  You must not forget
+who you are--the daughter of Jean Jacques Barbille, of the Manor Cartier,
+whose name is known in the whole province, who was asked to stand for the
+legislature.  You are Zoe Barbille--Mademoiselle Zoe Barbille.  We do not
+put on airs.  We are kind to our neighbours, but I am descended from the
+Baron of Beaugard.  I have a place--yes, a place in society; and it is
+for you to respect it.  You comprehend?"
+
+Zoe flushed, but there was no hesitation whatever in her reply.  "I am
+what I have always been, and it is not my fault that I am the daughter of
+M. Jean Jacques Barbille!  I have never done anything which was not good
+enough for the Manor Cartier."  She held her head firmly as she said it.
+
+Now Jean Jacques flushed, and he did hesitate in his reply.  He hated
+irony in anyone else, though he loved it in himself, when heaven gave him
+inspiration thereto.  He was in a state of tension, and was ready to
+break out, to be a force let loose--that is the way he would have
+expressed it; and he was faced by a new spirit in his daughter which
+would surely spring the mine, unless he secured peace by strategy.  He
+had sense enough to feel the danger.
+
+He did not see, however, any course for diplomacy here, for she had given
+him his cue in her last words.  As a pure logician he was bound to take
+it, though it might lead to drama of a kind painful to them both.
+
+"It is not good enough for the Manor Cartier that you go falling in love
+with a nobody from nowhere," he responded.
+
+"I am not falling in love," she rejoined.
+
+"What did you mean, then, by looking at him as you did; by whispering
+together; by letting him hold your hand when he left, and him looking at
+you as though he'd eat you up--without sugar!"
+
+"I said I was not falling in love," she persisted, quietly, but with
+characteristic boldness.  "I am in love."
+
+"You are in love with him--with that interloper!  Heaven of heavens, do
+you speak the truth?  Answer me, Zoe Barbille."
+
+She bridled.  "Certainly I will answer.  Did you think I would let a man
+look at me as he did, that I would look at a man as I looked at him, that
+I would let him hold my hand as I did, if I did not love him?  Have you
+ever seen me do it before?"
+
+Her voice was even and quiet--as though she had made up her mind on a
+course, and meant to carry it through to the end.
+
+"No, I never saw you look at a man like that, and everything is as you
+say, but--" his voice suddenly became uneven and higher--pitched and a
+little hoarse, "but he is English, he is an actor--only that; and he is a
+Protestant."
+
+"Only that?" she asked, for the tone of his voice was such as one would
+use in speaking of a toad or vermin, and she could not bear it.  "Is it a
+disgrace to be any one of those things?"
+
+"The Barbilles have been here for two hundred years; they have been
+French Catholics since the time of"--he was not quite sure--"since the
+time of Louis XI.," he added at a venture, and then paused, overcome by
+his own rashness.
+
+"Yes, that is a long time," she said, "but what difference does it make?
+We are just what we are now, and as if there never had been a Baron of
+Beaugard.  What is there against Gerard except that he is an actor, that
+he is English, and that he is a Protestant?  Is there anything?"
+
+"Sacre, is it not enough?  An actor, what is that--to pretend to be
+someone else and not to be yourself!"
+
+"It would be better for a great many people to be someone else rather
+than themselves--for nothing; and he does it for money."
+
+"For money!  What money has he got?  You don't know.  None of us know.
+Besides, he's a Protestant, and he's English, and that ends it.  There
+never has been an Englishman or a Protestant in the Barbille family, and
+it shan't begin at the Manor Cartier."  Jean Jacques' voice was rising in
+proportion as he perceived her quiet determination.  Here was something
+of the woman who had left him seven years ago--left this comfortable home
+of his to go to disgrace and exile, and God only knew what else!  Here in
+this very room--yes, here where they now were, father and daughter, stood
+husband and wife that morning when he had his hand on the lever prepared
+to destroy the man who had invaded his home; who had cast a blight upon
+it, which remained after all the years; after he had done all a man could
+do to keep the home and the woman too.  The woman had gone; the home
+remained with his daughter in it, and now again there was a fight for
+home and the woman.  Memory reproduced the picture of the mother standing
+just where the daughter now stood, Carmen quiet and well in hand, and
+himself all shaken with weakness, and with all power gone out of him--
+even the power which rage and a murderous soul give.
+
+But yet this was different.  There was no such shame here as had fallen
+on him seven years ago.  But there was a shame after its kind; and if it
+were not averted, there was the end of the home, of the prestige, the
+pride and the hope of "M'sieu' Jean Jacques, philosophe."
+
+"What shall not begin here at the Manor Cartier?" she asked with burning
+cheek.
+
+"The shame--it shall not begin here."
+
+"What shame, father?"
+
+"Of marriage with a Protestant and an actor."
+
+"You will not let me marry him?" she persisted stubbornly.
+
+Her words seemed to shake him all to pieces.  It was as though he was
+going through the older tragedy all over again.  It had possessed him
+ever since the sight of Carmen's guitar had driven him mad three hours
+ago.  He swayed to and fro, even as he did when his hand left the lever
+and he let the master-carpenter go free.  It was indeed a philosopher
+under torture, a spirit rocking on its anchor.  Just now she had put into
+words herself what, even in his fear, he had hoped had no place in her
+mind--marriage with the man.  He did not know this daughter of his very
+well.  There was that in her which was far beyond his ken.  Thousands of
+miles away in Spain it had origin, and the stream of tendency came down
+through long generations, by courses unknown to him.
+
+"Marry him--you want to marry him!" he gasped.  "You, my Zoe, want to
+marry that tramp of a Protestant!"
+
+Her eyes blazed in anger.  Tramp--the man with the air of a young
+Alexander, with a voice like the low notes of the guitar thrown to the
+flames!  Tramp!
+
+"If I love him I ought to marry him," she answered with a kind of
+calmness, however, though all her body was quivering.  Suddenly she came
+close to her father, a great sympathy welled up in her eyes, and her
+voice shook.
+
+"I do not want to leave you, father, and I never meant to do so.  I never
+thought of it as possible; but now it is different.  I want to stay with
+you; but I want to go with him too."
+
+Presently as she seemed to weaken before him, he hardened.  "You can't
+have both," he declared with as much sternness as was possible to him,
+and with a Norman wilfulness which was not strength.  "You shall not
+marry an actor and a Protestant.  You shall not marry a man like that--
+never--never--never.  If you do, you will never have a penny of mine,
+and I will never--"
+
+"Oh, hush--Mother of Heaven, hush!" she cried.  "You shall not put a
+curse on me too."
+
+"What curse?" he burst forth, passion shaking him.  "You cursed my
+mother's baptism.  It would be a curse to be told that you would see me
+no more, that I should be no more part of this home.  There has been
+enough of that curse here.  .  .  .  Ah, why--why--" she added with a
+sudden rush of indignation, "why did you destroy the only thing I had
+of hers?  It was all that was left--her guitar.  I loved it so."
+
+All at once, with a cry of pain, she turned and ran to the door--entering
+on the staircase which led to her room.  In the doorway she turned.
+
+"I can't help it.  I can't help it, father.  I love him--but I love you
+too," she cried.  "I don't want to go--oh, I don't want to go!  Why do
+you--?" her voice choked; she did not finish the sentence; or if she did,
+he could not hear.
+
+Then she opened the door wide, and disappeared into the darkness of the
+unlighted stairway, murmuring, "Pity--have pity on me, holy Mother,
+Vierge Marie!"  Then the door closed behind her almost with a bang.
+
+After a moment of stupefied inaction Jean Jacques hurried over and threw
+open the door she had closed.  "Zoe--little Zoe, come back and say good-
+night," he called.  But she did not hear, for, with a burst of crying,
+she had hurried into her own room and shut and locked the door.
+
+It was a pity, a measureless pity, as Mary the Mother must have seen,
+if she could see mortal life at all, that Zoe did not hear him.  It might
+have altered the future.  As it was, the Devil of Estrangement might well
+be content with his night's work.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+BON MARCHE
+
+Vilray was having its market day, and everyone was either going to or
+coming from market, or buying and selling in the little square by the
+Court House.  It was the time when the fruits were coming in, when
+vegetables were in full yield, when fish from the Beau Cheval were to be
+had in plenty--from mud-cats and suckers, pike and perch, to rock-bass,
+sturgeon and even maskinonge.  Also it was the time of year when butter
+and eggs, chickens and ducks were so cheap that it was a humiliation not
+to buy.  There were other things on sale also, not for eating and
+drinking, but for wear and household use--from pots and pans to rag-
+carpets and table-linen, from woollen yarn to pictures of the Virgin and
+little calvaries.
+
+These were side by side with dried apples, bottled fruits, jars of maple
+syrup, and cordials of so generous and penetrating a nature that the
+currant and elderberry wine by which they were flanked were tipple for
+babes beside them.  Indeed, when a man wanted to forget himself quickly
+he drank one of these cordials, in preference to the white whisky so
+commonly imbibed in the parishes.  But the cordials being expensive, they
+were chiefly bought for festive occasions like a wedding, a funeral, a
+confirmation, or the going away of some young man or young woman to the
+monastery or the convent to forget the world.  Meanwhile, if these
+spiritual argonauts drank it, they were likely to forget the world on the
+way to their voluntary prisons.  It was very seldom that a man or woman
+bought the cordials for ordinary consumption, and when that was done, it
+would almost make a parish talk!  Yet cordials of nice brown, of delicate
+green, of an enticing yellow colour, were here for sale at Vilray market
+on the morning after the painful scene at the Manor Cartier between Zoe
+and her father.
+
+The market-place was full--fuller than it had been for many a day.  A
+great many people were come in as much to "make fete" as to buy and sell.
+It was a saint's day, and the bell of St. Monica's had been ringing away
+cheerfully twice that morning.  To it the bell of the Court House had
+made reply, for a big case was being tried in the court.  It was a river-
+driving and lumber case for which many witnesses had been called; and
+there were all kinds of stray people in the place--red-shirted river-
+drivers, a black-coated Methodist minister from Chalfonte, clerks from
+lumber-firms, and foremen of lumber-yards; and among these was one who
+greatly loved such a day as this when he could be free from work, and
+celebrate himself!
+
+Other people might celebrate saints dead and gone, and drink to 'La
+Patrie', and cry "Vive Napoleon!" or "Vive la Republique!" or "Vive la
+Reine!" though this last toast of the Empire was none too common--but he
+could only drink with real sincerity to the health of Sebastian Dolores,
+which was himself.  Sebastian Dolores was the pure anarchist, the most
+complete of monomaniacs.
+
+"Here comes the father of the Spanische," remarked Mere Langlois, who
+presided over a heap of household necessities, chiefly dried fruits,
+preserves and pickles, as Sebastian Dolores appeared not far away.
+
+"Good-for-nothing villain!  I pity the poor priest that confesses him."
+
+"Who is the Spanische?" asked a young woman from her own stall or stand
+very near, as she involuntarily arranged her hair and adjusted her waist-
+belt; for the rakish-looking reprobate, with the air of having been
+somewhere, was making towards them; and she was young enough to care how
+she looked when a man, who took notice, was near.  Her own husband had
+been a horse-doctor, farmer, and sportsman of a kind, and she herself was
+now a farmer of a kind; and she had only resided in the parish during the
+three years since she had been married to, and buried, Palass Poucette.
+
+Old Mere Langlois looked at her companion in merchanting irritably, then
+she remembered that Virginie Poucette was a stranger, in a way, and was
+therefore deserving of pity, and she said with compassionate patronage:
+"Newcomer you--I'd forgotten.  Look you then, the Spanische was the wife
+of my third cousin, M'sieu' Jean Jacques, and--"
+
+Virginie Poucette nodded, and the slight frown cleared from her low yet
+shapely forehead.  "Yes, yes, of course I know.  I've heard enough.  What
+a fool she was, and M'sieu' Jean Jacques so rich and kind and good-
+looking!  So this is her father--well, well, well!"
+
+Palass Poucette's widow leaned forward, and looked intently at Sebastian
+Dolores, who had stopped near by, and facing a couple of barrels on which
+were exposed some bottles of cordial and home-made wine.  He was
+addressing himself with cheerful words to the dame that owned the
+merchandise.
+
+"I suppose you think it's a pity Jean Jacques can't get a divorce,"
+said Mere Langlois, rather spitefully to Virginie, for she had her
+sex's aversion to widows who had had their share of mankind, and were
+afterwards free to have someone else's share as well.  But suddenly
+repenting, for Virginie was a hard-working widow who had behaved very
+well for an outsider--having come from Chalfonte beyond the Beau
+Chevalshe added: "But if he was a Protestant and could get a divorce,
+and you did marry him, you'd make him have more sense than he's got; for
+you've a quiet sensible way, and you've worked hard since Palass Poucette
+died."
+
+"Where doesn't he show sense, that M'sieu' Jean Jacques?" the younger
+woman asked.
+
+"Where?  Why, with his girl--with Ma'm'selle."  "Everybody I ever heard
+speaks well of Ma'm'selle Zoe," returned the other warmly, for she had a
+very generous mind and a truthful, sentimental heart.  Mere Langlois
+sniffed, and put her hands on her hips, for she had a daughter of her
+own; also she was a relation of Jean Jacques, and therefore resented in
+one way the difference in their social position, while yet she plumed
+herself on being kin.
+
+"Then you'll learn something now you never knew before," she said.
+"She's been carrying on--there's no other word for it--with an actor
+fellow--"
+
+"Yes, yes, I did hear about him--a Protestant and an Englishman."
+
+"Well, then, why do you pretend you don't know--only to hear me talk, is
+it?  Take my word, I'd teach cousin Zoe a lesson with all her education
+and her two years at the convent.  Wasn't it enough that her mother
+should spoil everything for Jean Jacques, and make the Manor Cartier a
+place to point the finger at, without her bringing disgrace on the parish
+too!  What happened last night--didn't I hear this morning before I had
+my breakfast!  Didn't I--"
+
+She then proceeded to describe the scene in which Jean Jacques had thrown
+the wrecked guitar of his vanished spouse into the fire.  Before she had
+finished, however, something occurred which swept them into another act
+of the famous history of Jean Jacques Barbille and his house.
+
+She had arrived at the point where Zoe had cried aloud in pain at her
+father's incendiary act, when there was a great stir at the Court House
+door which opened on the market-place, and vagrant cheers arose.  These
+were presently followed by a more disciplined fusillade; which presently,
+in turn, was met by hisses and some raucous cries of resentment.  These
+increased as a man appeared on the steps of the Court House, looked round
+for a moment in a dazed kind of way, then seeing some friends below who
+were swarming towards him, gave a ribald cry, and scrambled down the
+steps towards them.
+
+He was the prisoner whose release had suddenly been secured by a piece of
+evidence which had come as a thunder-clap on judge and jury.  Immediately
+after giving this remarkable evidence the witness--Sebastian Dolores--
+had left the court-room.  He was now engaged in buying cordials in the
+market-place--in buying and drinking them; for he had pulled the cork out
+of a bottle filled with a rich yellow liquid, and had drained half the
+bottle at a gulp.  Presently he offered the remainder to a passing
+carter, who made a gesture of contempt and passed on, for, to him, white
+whisky was the only drink worth while.  Besides, he disliked Sebastian
+Dolores.  Then, with a flourish, the Spaniard tendered the bottle to
+Madame Langlois and Palass Poucette's widow, at whose corner of
+merchandise he had now arrived.
+
+Surely there never was a more benign villain and perjurer in the world
+than Sebastian Dolores!  His evidence, given a half-hour before, with
+every sign of truthfulness, was false.  The man--Rocque Valescure--for
+whom he gave it was no friend of his; but he owned a tavern called "The
+Red Eagle," a few miles from the works where the Spaniard was employed;
+also Rocque Valescure's wife set a good table, and Sebastian Dolores was
+a very liberal feeder; when he was not hungry he was always thirsty.  The
+appeasement of hunger and thirst was now become a problem to him, for his
+employers at Beauharnais had given him a month's notice because of
+certain irregularities which had come to their knowledge.  Like a wise
+man Sebastian Dolores had said nothing about this abroad, but had
+enlarged his credit in every direction, and had then planned this piece
+of friendly perjury for Rocque Valescure, who was now descending the
+steps of the Court House to the arms of his friends and amid the
+execrations of his foes.  What the alleged crime was does not matter.
+It has no vital significance in the history of Jean Jacques Barbille,
+though it has its place as a swivel on which the future swung.
+
+Sebastian Dolores had saved Rocque Valescure from at least three years in
+jail, and possibly a very heavy fine as well; and this service must have
+its due reward.  Something for nothing was not the motto of Sebastian
+Dolores; and he confidently looked forward to having a home at "The Red
+Eagle" and a banker in its landlord.  He was no longer certain that he
+could rely on help from Jean Jacques, to whom he already owed so much.
+That was why he wanted to make Rocque Valescure his debtor.  It was not
+his way to perjure his soul for nothing.  He had done so in Spain--yet
+not for nothing either.  He had saved his head, which was now doing
+useful work for himself and for a needy fellow-creature.  No one could
+doubt that he had helped a neighbour in great need, and had done it at
+some expense to his own nerve and brain.  None but an expert could have
+lied as he had done in the witness-box.  Also he had upheld his lies with
+a striking narrative of circumstantiality.  He made things fit in "like
+mortised blocks" as the Clerk of the Court said to Judge Carcasson, when
+they discussed the infamy afterwards with clear conviction that it was
+perjury of a shameless kind; for one who would perjure himself to save a
+man from jail, would also swear a man into the gallows-rope.  But Judge
+Carcasson had not been able to charge the jury in that sense, for there
+was no effective evidence to rebut the untruthful attestation of the
+Spaniard.  It had to be taken for what it was worth, since the
+prosecuting attorney could not shake it; and yet to the Court itself it
+was manifestly false witness.
+
+Sebastian Dolores was too wise to throw himself into the arms of his
+released tavern-keeper here immediately after the trial, or to allow
+Rocque Valescure a like indiscretion and luxury; for there was a strong
+law against perjury, and right well Sebastian Dolores knew that old Judge
+Carcasson would have little mercy on him, in spite of the fact that he
+was the grandfather of Zoe Barbille.  The Judge would probably think that
+safe custody for his wayward character would be the kindest thing he
+could do for Zoe.  Therefore it was that Sebastian Dolores paid no
+attention to the progress of the released landlord of "The Red Eagle,"
+though, by a glance out of the corner of his eyes, he made sure that the
+footsteps of liberated guilt were marching at a tangent from where he
+was--even to the nearest tavern.
+
+It was enough for Dolores that he should watch the result of his good
+deed from the isolated area where he now was, in the company of two
+virtuous representatives of domesticity.  His time with liberated guilt
+would come!  He chuckled to think how he had provided himself with a
+refuge against his hour of trouble.  That very day he had left his
+employment, meaning to return no more, securing his full wages through
+having suddenly become resentful and troublesome, neglectful--and
+imperative.  To avoid further unpleasantness the firm had paid him all
+his wages; and he had straightway come to Vilray to earn his bed and
+board by other means than through a pen, a ledger and a gift for figures.
+It would not be a permanent security against the future, but it would
+suffice for the moment.  It was a rest-place on the road.  If the worst
+came to the worst, there was his grand-daughter and his dear son-in-law
+whom he so seldom saw--blood was thicker than water, and he would see to
+it that it was not thinned by neglect.
+
+Meanwhile he ogled Palass Poucette's widow with one eye, and talked
+softly with his tongue to Mere Langlois, as he importuned Madame to "Sip
+the good cordial in the name of charity to all and malice towards none."
+
+"You're a bad man--you, and I want none of your cordials," was Mere
+Langlois's response.  "Malice towards none, indeed!  If you and the devil
+started business in the same street, you'd make him close up shop in a
+year.  I've got your measure, for sure; I have you certain as an arm and
+a pair of stirrups."
+
+"I go about doing good--only good," returned the old sinner with a leer
+at the young widow, whose fingers he managed to press unseen, as he swung
+the little bottle of cordial before the eyes of Mere Langlois.  He was
+not wholly surprised when Palass Poucette's widow did not show abrupt
+displeasure at his bold familiarity.
+
+A wild thought flashed into his mind.  Might there not be another refuge
+here--here in Palass Poucette's widow!  He was sixty-three, it was true,
+and she was only thirty-two; but for her to be an old man's darling who
+had no doubt been a young man's slave, that would surely have its weight
+with her.  Also she owned the farm where she lived; and she was pleasant
+pasturage--that was the phrase he used in his own mind, even as his eye
+swept from Mere Langlois to hers in swift, hungry inquiry.
+
+He seemed in earnest when he spoke--but that was his way; it had done him
+service often.  "I do good whenever it comes my way to do it," he
+continued.  "I left my work this morning"--he lied of course--"and hired
+a buggy to bring me over here, all at my own cost, to save a fellow-man.
+There in the Court House he was sure of prison, with a wife and three
+small children weeping in 'The Red Eagle'; and there I come at great
+expense and trouble to tell the truth--before all to tell the truth--and
+save him and set him free.  Yonder he is in the tavern, the work of my
+hands, a gift to the world from an honest man with a good heart and a
+sense of justice.  But for me there would be a wife and three children in
+the bondage of shame, sorrow, poverty and misery"--his eyes again
+ravished the brown eyes of Palass Poucette's widow--"and here again
+I drink to my own health and to that of all good people--with charity
+to all and malice towards none!"
+
+The little bottle of golden cordial was raised towards Mere Langlois.
+The fingers of one hand, however, were again seeking those of the comely
+young widow who was half behind him, when he felt them caught
+spasmodically away.  Before he had time to turn round he heard a voice,
+saying: "I should have thought that 'With malice to all and charity
+towards none,' was your motto, Dolores."
+
+He knew that voice well enough.  He had always had a lurking fear that
+he would hear it say something devastating to him, from the great chair
+where its owner sat and dispensed what justice a jury would permit him to
+do.  That devastating something would be agony to one who loved liberty
+and freedom--had not that ever been his watchword, liberty and freedom to
+do what he pleased in the world and with the world?  Yes, he well knew
+Judge Carcasson's voice.  He would have recognized it in the dark--or
+under the black cap.  "M'sieu' le juge !" he said, even before he turned
+round and saw the faces of the tiny Judge and his Clerk of the Court.
+There was a kind of quivering about his mouth, and a startled look in his
+eyes as he faced the two.  But there was the widow of Palass Poucette,
+and, if he was to pursue and frequent her, something must be done to keep
+him decently figured in her eye and mind.
+
+"It cost me three dollars to come here and save a man from jail to-day,
+m'sieu' le juge," he added firmly.  The Judge pressed the point of his
+cane against the stomach of the hypocrite and perjurer.  "If the Devil
+and you meet, he will take off his hat to you, my escaped anarchist"--
+Dolores started almost violently now--"for you can teach him much, and
+Ananias was the merest aboriginal to you.  But we'll get you--we'll get
+you, Dolores.  You saved that guilty fellow by a careful and remarkable
+perjury to-day.  In a long experience I have never seen a better
+performance--have you, monsieur?" he added to M. Fille.
+
+"But once," was the pointed and deliberate reply.  "Ah, when was that?"
+asked Judge Carcasson, interested.
+
+"The year monsieur le juge was ill, and Judge Blaquiere took your place.
+It was in Vilray at the Court House here."
+
+"Ah--ah, and who was the phenomenon--the perfect liar?" asked the Judge
+with the eagerness of the expert.
+
+"His name was Sebastian Dolores," meditatively replied M. Fille.  "It was
+even a finer performance than that of to-day."
+
+The Judge gave a little grunt of surprise.  "Twice, eh?" he asked.
+"Yet this was good enough to break any record," he added.  He fastened
+the young widow's eyes.  "Madame, you are young, and you have an eye of
+intelligence.  Be sure of this: you can protect yourself against almost
+anyone except a liar--eh, madame?" he added to Mere Langlois.  "I am
+sure your experience of life and your good sense--"
+
+"My good sense would make me think purgatory was hell if I saw him"--
+she nodded savagely at Dolores as she said it, for she had seen that last
+effort of his to take the fingers of Palass Poucette's widow--"if I saw
+him there, m'sieu' le juge."
+
+"We'll have you yet--we'll have you yet, Dolores," said the Judge, as the
+Spaniard prepared to move on.  But, as Dolores went, he again caught the
+eyes of the young widow.
+
+This made him suddenly bold.  "'Thou shalt not bear false witness against
+thy neighbour,'--that is the commandment, is it not, m'sieu' le juge?
+You are doing against me what I didn't do in Court to-day.  I saved a man
+from your malice."
+
+The crook of the Judge's cane caught the Spaniard's arm, and held him
+gently.
+
+"You're possessed of a devil, Dolores," he said, "and I hope I'll never
+have to administer justice in your case.  I might be more man than judge.
+But you will come to no good end.  You will certainly--"
+
+He got no further, for the attention of all was suddenly arrested by a
+wagon driving furiously round the corner of the Court House.  It was a
+red wagon.  In it was Jean Jacques Barbille.
+
+His face was white and set; his head was thrust forward, as though
+looking at something far ahead of him; the pony stallions he was driving
+were white with sweat, and he had an air of tragic helplessness and
+panic.
+
+Suddenly a child ran across the roadway in front of the ponies, and the
+wild cry of the mother roused Jean Jacques out of his agonized trance.
+He sprang to his feet, wrenching the horses backward and aside with
+deftness and presence of mind.  The margin of safety was not more than a
+foot, but the child was saved.
+
+The philosopher of the Manor Cartier seemed to come out of a dream as men
+and women applauded, and cries arose of "Bravo, M'sieu' Jean Jacques!"
+
+At any other time this would have made Jean Jacques nod and smile, or
+wave a hand, or exclaim in good fellowship.  Now, however, his eyes were
+full of trouble, and the glassiness of the semi-trance leaving them, they
+shifted restlessly here and there.  Suddenly they fastened on the little
+group of which Judge Carcasson was the centre.  He had stopped his horses
+almost beside them.
+
+"Ah!" he said, "ah!" as his eyes rested on the Judge.  "Ah!" he again
+exclaimed, as the glance ran from the Judge to Sebastian Dolores.  "Ah,
+mercy of God!" he added, in a voice which had both a low note and a high
+note-deep misery and shrill protest in one.  Then he seemed to choke, and
+words would not come, but he kept looking, looking at Sebastian Dolores,
+as though fascinated and tortured by the sight of him.
+
+"What is it, Jean Jacques?" asked the little Clerk of the Court gently,
+coming forward and laying a hand on the steaming flank of a spent and
+trembling pony.
+
+As though he could not withdraw his gaze from Sebastian Dolores, Jean
+Jacques did not look at M. Fil1e; but he thrust out the long whip he
+carried towards the father of his vanished Carmen and his Zoe's
+grandfather, and with the deliberation of one to whom speaking was like
+the laceration of a nerve he said: "Zoe's run away--gone--gone!"
+
+At that moment Louis Charron, his cousin, at whose house Gerard Fynes had
+lodged, came down the street galloping his horse.  Seeing the red wagon,
+he made for it, and drew rein.
+
+"It's no good, Jean Jacques," he called.  "They're married and gone to
+Montreal--married right under our noses by the Protestant minister at
+Terrebasse Junction.  I've got the telegram here from the stationmaster
+at Terrebasse.  .  .  .  Ah, the villain to steal away like that--only a
+child--from her own father!  Here it is--the telegram.  But believe me,
+an actor, a Protestant and a foreigner--what a devil's mess!"
+
+He waved the telegram towards Jean Jacques.
+
+"Did he owe you anything, Louis?" asked old Mere Langlois, whose
+practical mind was alert to find the material status of things.
+
+"Not a sou.  Well, but he was honest, I'll say that for the rogue and
+seducer."
+
+"Seducer--ah, God choke you with your own tongue!" cried Jean Jacques,
+turning on Louis Charron with a savage jerk of the whip he held.  "She is
+as pure--"
+
+"It is no marriage, of course!" squeaked a voice from the crowd.
+
+"It'll be all right among the English, won't it, monsieur le juge?"
+asked the gentle widow of Palass Poucette, whom the scene seemed to rouse
+out of her natural shyness.
+
+"Most sure, madame, most sure," answered the Judge.  "It will be all
+right among the English, and it is all right among the French so far as
+the law is concerned.  As for the Church, that is another matter.  But--
+but see," he added addressing Louis Charron, "does the station-master say
+what place they took tickets for?"
+
+"Montreal and Winnipeg," was the reply.  "Here it is in the telegram.
+Winnipeg--that's as English as London."
+
+"Winnipeg--a thousand miles!" moaned Jean Jacques.
+
+With the finality which the tickets for Winnipeg signified, the shrill
+panic emotion seemed to pass from him.  In its mumbling, deadening force
+it was like a sentence on a prisoner.
+
+As many eyes were on Sebastian Dolores as on Jean Jacques.  "It's the bad
+blood that was in her," said a farmer with a significant gesture towards
+Sebastian Dolores.
+
+"A little bad blood let out would be a good thing," remarked a truculent
+river-driver, who had given evidence directly contrary to that given by
+Sebastian Dolores in the trial just concluded.  There was a savage look
+in his eye.
+
+Sebastian Dolores heard, and he was not the man to invite trouble.  He
+could do no good where he was, and he turned to leave the market-place;
+but in doing so he sought the eye of Virginie Poucette, who, however,
+kept her face at an angle from him, as she saw Mere Langlois sharply
+watching her.
+
+"Grandfather, mother and daughter, all of a piece!" said a spiteful
+woman, as Sebastian Dolores passed her.  The look he gave her was not the
+same as that he had given to Palass Poucette's widow.  If it had been
+given by a Spanish inquisitor to a heretic, little hope would have
+remained in the heretic's heart.  Yet there was a sad patient look on his
+face, as though he was a martyr.  He had no wish to be a martyr; but he
+had a feeling that for want of other means of expressing their sympathy
+with Jean Jacques, these rough people might tar and feather him at least;
+though it was only his misfortune that those sprung from his loins had
+such adventurous spirits!
+
+Sebastian Dolores was not without a real instinct regarding things.  What
+was in his mind was also passing through that of the river-driver and a
+few of his friends, and they carefully watched the route he was taking.
+
+Jean Jacques prepared to depart.  He had ever loved to be the centre of a
+picture, but here was a time when to be in the centre was torture.  Eyes
+of morbid curiosity were looking at the open wounds of his heart-ragged
+wounds made by the shrapnel of tragedy and treachery, not the clean
+wounds got in a fair fight, easily healed.  For the moment at least the
+little egoist was a mere suffering soul--an epitome of shame, misery and
+disappointment.  He must straightway flee the place where he was tied to
+the stake of public curiosity and scorn.  He drew the reins tighter, and
+the horses straightened to depart.  Then it was that old Judge Carcasson
+laid a hand on his knee.
+
+"Come, come," he said to the dejected and broken little man, "where is
+your philosophy?"
+
+Jean Jacques looked at the Judge, as though with a new-born suspicion
+that henceforth the world would laugh at him, and that Judge Carcasson
+was setting the fashion; but seeing a pitying moisture in the other's
+eyes, he drew himself up, set his jaw, and calling on all the forces at
+his command, he said:
+
+"Moi je suis philosophe!"
+
+His voice frayed a little on the last word, but his head was up now.
+The Clerk of the Court would have asked to accompany him to the Manor
+Cartier, but he was not sure that Jean Jacques would like it.  He had a
+feeling that Jean Jacques would wish to have his dark hour alone.  So he
+remained silent, and Jean Jacques touched his horses with the whip.
+After starting, however, and having been followed for a hundred yards or
+so by the pitying murmurs and a few I-told-you-so's and revilings for
+having married as he did, Jean Jacques stopped the ponies.  Standing up
+in the red wagon he looked round for someone whom, for a moment, he did
+not see in the slowly shifting crowd.
+
+Philosophy was all very well, and he had courageously given his
+allegiance to it, or a formula of it, a moment before; but there was
+something deeper and rarer still in the little man's soul.  His heart
+hungered for the two women who had been the joy and pride of his life,
+even when he had been lost in the business of the material world.  They
+were more to him than he had ever known; they were parts of himself which
+had slowly developed, as the features and characteristics of ancestors
+gradually emerge and are emphasized in a descendant as his years
+increase.  Carmen and Zoe were more a part of himself now than they had
+ever been.
+
+They were gone, the living spirits of his home.  Anything that reminded
+him of them, despite the pain of the reminder, was dear to him.  Love was
+greater than the vengeful desire of injured human nature.  His eyes
+wandered over the people, over the market.  At last he saw what he was
+looking for.  He called.  A man turned.  Jean Jacques beckoned to him.
+He came eagerly, he hurried to the red wagon.
+
+"Come home with me," said Jean Jacques.
+
+The words were addressed to Sebastian Dolores, who said to himself that
+this was a refuge surer than "The Red Eagle," or the home of the widow
+Poucette.  He climbed in beside Jean Jacques with a sigh of content.
+
+"Ah, but that--but that is the end of our philosopher," said Judge
+Carcasson sadly to the Clerk of the Court, as with amazement he saw this
+catastrophe.
+
+"Alas!  if I had only asked to go with him, as I wished to do!"
+responded M. Fille.  "There, but a minute ago, it was in my mind," he
+added with a look of pain.
+
+"You missed your chance, falterer," said the Judge severely.  "If you
+have a good thought, act on it--that is the golden rule.  You missed your
+chance.  It will never come again.  He has taken the wrong turning, our
+unhappy Jean Jacques."
+
+"Monsieur--oh, monsieur, do not shut the door in the face of God like
+that!" said the shocked little master of the law.  "Those two together
+--it may be only for a moment."
+
+"Ah, no, my little owl, Jean Jacques will wind the boa-constrictor round
+his neck like a collar, all for love of those he has lost," answered the
+Judge with emotion; and he caught M. Fille's arm in the companionship of
+sorrow.
+
+In silence these two watched the red wagon till it was out of sight.
+
+
+
+
+ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:
+
+He hated irony in anyone else
+I said I was not falling in love--I am in love
+If you have a good thought, act on it
+Philosophers are often stupid in human affairs
+The beginning of the end of things was come for him
+
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MONEY MASTER, PARKER, V3 ***
+
+********* This file should be named 6277.txt or 6277.zip ********
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