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+The Project Gutenberg EBook Carnac's Folly, by Gilbert Parker, v2
+#124 in our series by Gilbert Parker
+
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+
+Title: Carnac's Folly, Volume 2.
+
+Author: Gilbert Parker
+
+Release Date: August, 2004  [EBook #6297]
+[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
+[This file was first posted on December 19, 2002]
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+Edition: 10
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+Language: English
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+Character set encoding: ASCII
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+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CARNAC'S FOLLY, BY PARKER, V2 ***
+
+
+
+This eBook was produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+CARNAC'S FOLLY
+
+By Gilbert Parker
+
+
+
+BOOK II
+
+XIII.     CARNAC'S RETURN
+XIV.      THE HOUSE OF THE THREE TREES
+XV.       CARNAC AND JUNTA
+XVI.      JOHN GRIER MAKES A JOURNEY
+XVII.     THE READING OF THE WILL
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+CARNAC'S RETURN
+
+"Well, what's happened since I've been gone, mother?" asked Carnac.  "Is
+nobody we're interested in married, or going to be married?"
+
+It was spring-time eight months after Carnac had vanished from Montreal,
+and the sun of late April was melting the snow upon the hills, bringing
+out the smell of the sprouting verdure and the exultant song of the
+birds.
+
+His mother replied sorrowfully: "Junia's been away since last fall.  Her
+aunt in the West was taken ill, and she's been with her ever since.  Tell
+me, dearest, is everything all right now?  Are you free to do what you
+want?"
+
+He shook his head morosely.  "No, everything's all wrong.  I blundered,
+and I'm paying the price."
+
+"You didn't find Luzanne Larue?"
+
+"Yes, I found her, but it was no good.  I said there was divorce, and she
+replied I'd done it with my eyes open, and had signed our names in the
+book of the hotel as Mr. and Mrs. Carnac Grier and divorce would not be
+possible.  Also, I'd let things go for a year, and what jury would give
+me relief!  I consulted a lawyer.  He said she had the game in her hands,
+and that a case could be put up that would discredit me with jury or
+judge, so there it is.  .  .  .  Well, bad as she is, she's fond of me
+in her way.  I don't think she's ever gone loose with any man; this is
+only a craze, I'm sure.  She wanted me, and she meant to have me."
+
+His mother protested: "No pure, straight, honest girl would--"
+
+Carnac laughed bitterly, and interrupted.  "Don't talk that way, mother.
+The girl was brought up among exiles and political criminals in the
+purlieu of Montmartre.  What's possible in one place is impossible in
+another.  Devil as she is, I want to do her justice."
+
+"Did she wear a wedding-ring?"
+
+"No, but she used my name as her own: I saw it on the paper door-plate.
+She said she would wait awhile longer, but if at the end of six months I
+didn't do my duty, she'd see the thing through here among my own people."
+
+"Six months--it's overdue now!" she said in agitation.
+
+He nodded helplessly.  "I'm in hell as things are.  There's only this to
+be said: She's done naught yet, and she mayn't do aught!"
+
+They were roused by the click of the gate.  "That's your father--that's
+John Grier," she said.
+
+They heard the front door open and shut, a footstep in the hall, then the
+door opened and John Grier came into the room.
+
+Preoccupation, abstraction, filled his face, as he came forward.  It was
+as though he was looking at something distant that both troubled and
+pleased him.  When he saw Carnac he stopped, his face flushed.  For an
+instant he stood unmoving, and then he held out his hand.
+
+"So you've come back, Carnac.  When did you get here?"
+
+As Carnac released his hand from John Grier's cold clasp, he said: "A
+couple of hours ago."
+
+The old man scrutinized him sharply, carefully.  "Getting on--making
+money?" he asked.  "Got your hand in the pocket of the world?"
+
+Carnac shook his head.  "I don't care much about the pocket of the world,
+but they like my work in London and New York.  I don't get Royal Academy
+prices, but I do pretty well."
+
+"Got some pride, eh?"
+
+"I'm always proud when anybody outside Montreal mentions your name!
+It makes me feel I have a place in the world."
+
+"Guess you've made your own place," said the other, pleasure coming to
+his cheek.  "You've got your own shovel and pick to make wealth."
+
+"I care little about wealth.  All I want is enough to clothe and feed me,
+and give me a little home."
+
+"A little home!  Yes, it's time," remarked the other, as he seated
+himself in his big chair by the table.  "Why don't you marry?"
+
+The old man's eyes narrowed until there could only be seen a slit of fire
+between the lids, and a bitter smile came to his lips.  He had told his
+wife a year ago that he had cut Carnac out of all business consideration.
+So now, he added:
+
+"Tarboe's taken your place in the business, Carnac.  Look out he doesn't
+take your little home too."
+
+"He's had near a year, and he hasn't done it yet."
+
+"Is that through any virtue of yours?"
+
+"Probably not," answered Carnac ironically.  "But I've been away; he's
+been here.  He's had everything with him.  Why hasn't he pulled it off
+then?"
+
+"He pulls off everything he plans.  He's never fallen over his own feet
+since he's been with me, and, if I can help it, he won't have a fall when
+I'm gone."
+
+Suddenly he got to his feet; a fit of passion seized him.  "What's Junia
+to me--nothing!  I've every reason to dislike her, but she comes and goes
+as if the place belonged to her.  She comes to my office; she comes to
+this house; she visits Fabian; she tries to boss everybody.  Why don't
+you regularize it?  Why don't you marry her, and then we'll know where we
+are?  She's got more brains than anybody else in our circle.  She's got
+tact and humour.  Her sister's a fool; she's done harm.  Junia's got
+sense.  What are you waiting for?  I wouldn't leave her for Tarboe!  Look
+here, Carnac, I wanted you to do what Tarboe's doing, and you wouldn't.
+You cheeked me--so I took him in.  He's made good every foot of the way.
+He's a wonder.  I'm a millionaire.  I'm two times a millionaire, and I
+got the money honestly.  I gave one-third of it to Fabian, and he left
+us.  I paid him in cash, and now he's fighting me."
+
+Carnac bristled up: "What else could he do?  He might have lived on the
+interest of the money, and done nothing.  You trained him for business,
+and he's gone on with the business you trained him for.  There are other
+lumber firms.  Why don't you quarrel with them?  Why do you drop on
+Fabian as if he was dirt?"
+
+"Belloc's a rogue and a liar."
+
+"What difference does that make?  Isn't it a fair fight?  Don't you want
+anybody to sit down or stand up till you tell them to?  Is it your view
+you shall tyrannize, browbeat, batter, and then that everybody you love,
+or pretend to love, shall bow down before you as though you were eternal
+law?  I'm glad I didn't.  I'm making my own life.  You gave me a chance
+in your business, and I tried it, and declined it.  You gave it to some
+one else, and I approved of it.  What more do you want?"
+
+Suddenly a new spirit of defiance awoke in him.  "What I owe you I don't
+know, but if you'll make out what you think is due, for what you've done
+for me in the way of food and clothes and education, I'll see you get it
+all.  Meanwhile, I want to be free to move and do as I will."
+
+John Grier sat down in his chair again, cold, merciless, with a scornful
+smile.
+
+"Yes, yes," he said slowly, "you'd have made a great business man if
+you'd come with me.  You refused.  I don't understand you--I never did.
+There's only one thing that's alike in us, and that's a devilish self-
+respect, self-assertion, self-dependence.  There's nothing more to be
+said between us--nothing that counts.  Don't get into a passion, Carnac.
+It don't become you.  Good-night--good-night."
+
+Suddenly his mother's face produced a great change in Carnac.  Horror,
+sorrow, remorse, were all there.  He looked at John Grier; then at his
+mother.  The spirit of the bigger thing crept into his heart.  He put his
+arm around his mother and kissed her.
+
+"Good-night, mother," he said.  Then he went to his father and held out a
+hand.  "You don't mind my speaking what I think?" he continued, with a
+smile.  "I've had a lot to try me.  Shake hands with me, father.  We
+haven't found the way to walk together yet.  Perhaps it will come; I hope
+so."
+
+Again a flash of passion seized John Grier.  He got to his feet.  "I'll
+not shake hands with you, not to night.  You can't put the knife in and
+turn it round, and then draw it out and put salve on the wound and say
+everything's all right.  Everything's all wrong.  My family's been my
+curse.  First one, then another, and then all against me,--my whole
+family against me!"
+
+He dropped back in his chair sunk in gloomy reflection.
+
+"Well, good-night," said Carnac.  "It will all come right some day."
+
+A moment afterwards he was gone.  His mother sat down in her seat by the
+window; his father sat brooding by the table.
+
+Carnac stole down the hillside, his heart burning in him.  It had not
+been a successful day.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+THE HOUSE OF THE THREE TREES
+
+During Carnac's absence, Denzil had lain like an animal, watching, as it
+were, the doorway out of which Tarboe came and went.  His gloom at last
+became fanaticism.  During all the eight months of Carnac's absence he
+prowled in the precincts of memory.
+
+While Junia was at home he had been watchfully determined to save her
+from Tarboe, if possible.  He had an obsession of wrong-mindedness which
+is always attached to crime.  Though Luke Tarboe had done him no wrong,
+and was entitled, if he could, to win Junia for himself, to the mind of
+Denzil the stain of his brother's past was on Tarboe's life.  He saw
+Tarboe and Junia meet; he knew Tarboe put himself in her way, and he was
+right in thinking that the girl, with a mind for comedy and coquetry, was
+drawn instinctively to danger.
+
+Undoubtedly the massive presence of Tarboe, his animal-like, bull-headed
+persistency, the fun at his big mouth and the light in his bold eye had a
+kind of charm for her.  It was as though she placed herself within the
+danger zone to try her strength, her will; and she had done it without
+real loss.  More than once, as she waited in the office for old John
+Grier to come, she had a strange, intuitive feeling that Tarboe might
+suddenly grip her in his arms.
+
+She flushed at the thought of it; it seemed so absurd.  Yet that very
+thought had passed through the mind of the man.  He was by nature a
+hunter; he was self-willed and reckless.  No woman had ever moved him in
+his life until this girl crossed his path, and he reached out towards her
+with the same will to control that he had used in the business of life.
+Yet, while this brute force suggested physical control of the girl, it
+had its immediate reaction.  She was so fine, so delicate, and yet so
+full of summer and the free unfettered life of the New World, so
+unimpassioned physically, yet so passionate in mind and temperament,
+that he felt he must atone for the wild moment's passion--the passion
+of possession, which had made him long to crush her to his breast.  There
+was nothing physically repulsive in it; it was the wild, strong life of
+conquering man, of which he had due share.  For, as he looked at her
+sitting in his office, her perfect health, her slim boyishness, her
+exquisite lines and graceful turn of hand, arm and body, or the flower-
+like turn of the neck, were the very harmony and poetry of life.  But she
+was terribly provoking too; and he realized that she was an unconscious
+coquette, that her spirit loved mastery as his did.
+
+Denzil could not know this, however.  It was impossible for him to
+analyse the natures of these two people.  He had instinct, but not enough
+to judge the whole situation, and so for two months after Carnac
+disappeared he had lived a life of torture.  Again and again he had
+determined to tell Junia the story of Tarboe's brother, but instinctive
+delicacy stopped him.  He could not tell her the terrible story which
+had robbed him of all he loved and had made him the avenger of the dead.
+A half-dozen times after she came back from John Grier's office, with
+slightly heightening colour, and the bright interest in her eyes, and had
+gone about the garden fondling the flowers, he had started towards her;
+but had stopped short before her natural modesty.  Besides, why should he
+tell her?  She had her own life to make, her own row to hoe.  Yet, as the
+weeks passed, it seemed he must break upon this dangerous romance; and
+then suddenly she went to visit her sick aunt in the Far West.  Denzil
+did not know, however, that, in John Grier's office as she had gone over
+figures of a society in which she was interested, the big hand of Tarboe
+had suddenly closed upon her fingers, and that his head bent down beside
+hers for one swift instant, as though he would whisper to her.  Then she
+quickly detached herself, yet smiled at him, as she said reprovingly:
+
+"You oughtn't to do that.  You'll spoil our friendship."
+
+She did not wait longer.  As he stretched out his hands to her, his face
+had gone pale: she vanished through the doorway, and in forty-eight hours
+was gone to her sick aunt.  The autumn had come and the winter and the
+spring, and the spring was almost gone when she returned; and, with her
+return, Catastrophe lifted its head in the person of Denzil.
+
+Perhaps it was imperative instinct that brought Junia back in an hour
+coincident with Carnac's return--perhaps.  In any case, there it was.
+They had both returned, as it were, in the self-same hour, each having
+endured a phase of emotion not easy to put on paper.
+
+Denzil told her of Carnac's return, and she went to the house where
+Carnac's mother lived, and was depressed at what she saw and felt.  Mrs.
+Grier's face was not that of one who had good news.  The long arms almost
+hurt when they embraced her.  Yet Carnac was a subject of talk between
+them--open, clear eyed talk.  The woman did not know what to say, except
+to praise her boy, and the girl asked questions cheerfully, unimportantly
+as to sound, but with every nerve tingling.  There was, however, so much
+of the comedienne in her, so much coquetry, that only one who knew her
+well could have seen the things that troubled her behind all.  As though
+to punish herself, she began to speak of Tarboe, and Mrs. Grier's face
+clouded; she spoke more of Tarboe, and the gloom deepened.  Then, with
+the mask of coquetry still upon her she left Carnac's mother abashed,
+sorrowful and alone.
+
+Tarboe had called in her absence.  Entering the garden, he saw Denzil at
+work.  At the click of the gate Denzil turned, and came forward.
+
+"She ain't home," he said bluntly.  "She's out.  She ain't here.  She's
+up at Mr. Grier's house, bien sur."
+
+To Tarboe Denzil's words were offensive.  It was none of Denzil's
+business whether he came or went in this house, or what his relations
+with Junia were.  Democrat though he was, he did not let democracy
+transgress his personal associations.  He knew that the Frenchman was
+less likely to say and do the crude thing than the Britisher.
+
+Tarboe knew of the position held by Denzil in the Shale household; and
+that long years of service had given him authority.  All this, however,
+could not atone for the insolence of Denzil's words, but he had
+controlled men too long to act rashly.
+
+"When will Mademoiselle be back?" he asked, putting a hand on himself.
+
+"To-night," answered Denzil, with an antipathetic eye.
+
+"Don't be a damn fool.  Tell me the hour when you think she will be at
+home.  Before dinner--within the next sixty minutes?"
+
+"Ma'm'selle is under no orders.  She didn't say when she would be back--
+but no!"
+
+"Do you think she'll be back for dinner?" asked Tarboe, smothering his
+anger, but get to get his own way.
+
+"I think she'll be back for dinner!" and he drove the spade into the
+ground.
+
+"Then I'll sit down and wait."  Tarboe made for the verandah.
+
+Denzil presently trotted after and said:  "I'd like a word with you."
+
+Tarboe turned round.  "Well, what have you got to say?"
+
+"Better be said in my house, not here," replied Denzil.  His face was
+pale, but there was fire in his eyes.  There was no danger of violence,
+and, if there were, Tarboe could deal with it.  Why should there be
+violence?  Why should that semi-insanity in Denzil's eyes disturb him?
+The one thing to do was to forge ahead.  He nodded.
+
+"Where are you taking me?" he asked presently, as they passed through
+the gate.
+
+"To my little house by the Three Trees.  I've got things I'd like to show
+you, and there's some things I'd like to say.  You are a big hulk of a
+man, and I'm nobody, but yet I've been close to you and yours in my time
+--that's so, for sure."
+
+"You've been close to me and mine in your time, eh?  I didn't know that."
+
+"No, you didn't know it.  Nobody knew it--I've kept it to myself.  Your
+family wasn't all first-class--but no."
+
+They soon reached the plain board-house, with the well-laid foundation of
+stone, by the big Three Trees.  Inside the little spare, undecorated
+room, Tarboe looked round.  It was all quiet and still enough.  It was
+like a lodge in the wilderness.  Somehow, the atmosphere of it made him
+feel apart and lonely.  Perhaps that was a little due to the timbered
+ceiling, to the walls with cedar scantlings showing, to the crude look of
+everything-the head of a moose, the skins hanging down the sides of the
+walls, the smell of the cedar, and the swift movement of a tame red
+squirrel, which ran up the walls and over the floor and along the
+chimney-piece, for Denzil avoided the iron stove so common in these new
+cold lands, and remained faithful to a huge old-fashioned mantel.
+
+Presently Denzil faced him, having closed the door.  "I said I'd been
+near to your family and you didn't believe me.  Sit down, please to, and
+I'll tell you my story."
+
+Seating himself with a little curt laugh, Tarboe waved a hand as though
+to say: "Go ahead.  I'm ready."
+
+It was difficult for Denzil to begin.  He walked up and down the room,
+muttering and shaking his head.  Presently, however, he made the Sign of
+the Cross upon himself, and, leaning against the wall, and opposite to
+Tarboe, he began the story he had told Carnac.
+
+His description of his dead fiancee had flashes of poetry and
+excruciating touches of life:
+
+"She had no mother, and there was lots of things she didn't know because
+of that--ah, plenty!  She had to learn, and she brought on her own
+tragedy by not knowing that men, even when good to look at, can't be
+trusted; that every place, even in the woods and the fields where every
+one seems safe to us outdoor people, ain't safe--but no.  So she trusted,
+and then one day--"
+
+For the next five minutes the words poured from him in moroseness.  He
+drew a picture of the lonely wood, of the believing credulous girl and
+the masterful, intellectual, skilful man.  In the midst of it Tarboe
+started.  The description of the place and of the man was familiar.  He
+had a vision of a fair young girl encompassed by clanger; he saw her in
+the man's arms; the man's lips to hers, and--
+
+"Good God--good God!" he said twice, for a glimmer of the truth struck
+him.  He knew what his brother had done.  He could conceive the revenge
+to his brother's amorous hand.  He listened till the whole tale was told;
+till the death of the girl in the pond at home--back in her own little
+home.  Then the rest of the story shook him.
+
+"The verdict of the coroner's court was that he was shot by his own hand
+--by accident," said Denzil.  "That was the coroner's verdict, but yes!
+Well, he was shot by his own gun, but not by his own hand.  There was
+some one who loved the girl, took toll.  The world did not know, and does
+not know, but you know--you--you, the brother of him that spoiled a
+woman's life!  Do you think such a man should live?  She was the sweetest
+girl that ever lived, and she loved me!  She told me the truth--and he
+died by his own gun--in the woods; but it wasn't accident--it wasn't
+accident--but no!  The girl had gone, but behind her was some one that
+loved her, and he settled it once for all."
+
+As he had told the story, Denzil's body seemed to contract; his face took
+on an insane expression.  It was ghastly pale, but his eyes ware aflame.
+His arms stretched out with grim realism as he told of the death of
+Almeric Tarboe.
+
+"You've got the whole truth, m'sieu'.  I've told it you at last.  I've
+never been sorry for killing him--never--never--never.  Now, what are you
+going to do about it--you--his brother--you that come here making love
+too?"
+
+As the truth dawned upon Tarboe, his great figure stretched itself.  A
+black spirit possessed him.
+
+When Denzil had finished, Tarboe stood up.  There was dementia, cruelty,
+stark purpose in his eyes, in every movement.
+
+"What am I going to do?  You killed my brother!  Well, I'm going to kill
+you.  God blast your soul--I'm going to kill you!"
+
+He suddenly swooped upon Denzil, his fingers clenched about the thick
+throat, insane rage was on him.
+
+At that moment there was a knock at the door, it opened, and Carnac
+stepped inside.  He realized the situation and rushed forward.  There was
+no time to struggle.
+
+"Let him go," he cried.  "You devil--let him go."  Then with all his
+might, he struck Tarboe in the face.  The blow brought understanding back
+to Tarboe.  His fingers loosed from the Frenchman's throat, and Carnac
+caught Denzil as he fell backwards.
+
+"Good God!" said Carnac.  "Good God, Tarboe!  Wasn't it enough for your
+brother to take this man's love without your trying to take his life?"
+
+Carnac's blow brought conviction to Tarboe, whose terrible rage passed
+away.  He wiped the blood from his face.
+
+"Is the little devil all right?" he whispered.
+
+Denzil spoke: "Yes.  This is the second time M'sieu' Carnac has saved my
+life."
+
+Carnac intervened.  "Tell me, Tarboe, what shall you do, now you know the
+truth?"
+
+At last Tarboe thrust out a hand.  "I don't know the truth," he said.
+
+By this Carnac knew that Denzil was safe from the law.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+CARNAC AND JUNIA
+
+Tarboe did not see Junia that evening nor for many evenings, but Carnac
+and Junia met the next day in her own house.  He came on her as she was
+arranging the table for midday dinner.  She had taken up again the
+threads of housekeeping, cheering her father, helping the old French-
+woman cook--a huge creature who moved like a small mountain, and was a
+tyrant in her way to the old cheerful avocat, whose life had been a
+struggle for existence, yet whose one daughter had married a rich
+lumberman, and whose other daughter could marry wealth, handsomeness
+and youth, if she chose.
+
+When Carnac saw Junia she was entering the dining-room with flowers and
+fruit, and he recalled the last time they met, when she had thrust the
+farewell bouquet of flowers into his hand.  That was in the early autumn,
+and this was in late spring, and the light in her face was as glowing as
+then.  A remembrance of the scene came to the minds of both, and the girl
+gave a little laugh.
+
+"Well, well, Carnac," she said gaily, her cheek flushing, her eyes warm
+with colour: "well, I sent you away with flowers.  Did they bring you
+luck?"  She looked him steadily in the eyes.
+
+"Yes, they brought me a perfect remembrance--of one who has always been
+to me like the balm of Gilead."
+
+"Soothing and stimulating, eh?" she asked, as she put the flowers on the
+table and gave him her hand--no, she suddenly gave him both hands with a
+rush of old-time friendship, which robbed it of all personal emotion.
+
+For a moment he held her hands.  He felt them tremble in his warm clasp,
+the delicate, shivering pulsation of youth, the womanly feeling.  It was
+for an instant only, because she withdrew her fingers.  Then she caught
+up an apple from the dish she had brought in, and tossed it to him.
+
+"For a good boy," she said.  "You have been a good boy, haven't you?"
+
+"I think so, chiefly by remembering a good girl."
+
+"That's a pretty compliment--meant for me?"
+
+"Yes, meant for you.  I think you understand me better than anyone else."
+
+He noticed her forehead wrinkle slightly, and a faint, incredulous smile
+come to her lips.
+
+"I shouldn't think I understand you, Carnac," she said, over her
+shoulder, as she arranged dishes on the sideboard.  "I shouldn't think I
+know you well.  There's no Book of Revelations of your life except in
+your face."
+
+She suddenly turned full on him, and held his eyes.  "Carnac, I think
+your face looks honest.  I've always thought so, and yet I think you're
+something of a scamp, a rogue and a thief."
+
+There was determination at her lips, through which, though only slightly
+apart, her beautiful teeth, so straight, so regular, showed.  "You don't
+play fair.  What's the good of having a friend if you don't tell your
+friend your troubles?  And you've been in trouble, Carnac, and you're
+fighting it through alone.  Is that wise?  You ought to tell some bad
+man, or some good woman--if they're both clever--what's vexing you.
+
+"You see the bad clever man would probably think out something that would
+have the same effect as the good clever woman.  They never would think
+out the same thing, but each 'd think out what would help you."
+
+"But you've just said I'm a bad clever man.  Why shouldn't I work out my
+own trouble?"
+
+"Oh, you're bad enough," she answered, "but you're not clever enough."
+
+He smiled grimly.  "I'm not sure though about the woman.  Perhaps I'll
+tell the good clever woman some day and let her help me, if she can.
+But I'd warn her it won't be easy."
+
+"Then there's another woman in it!"
+
+He did not answer.  He could not let her know the truth, yet he was sure
+she would come to know it one way or another.
+
+At that moment she leaned over the table and stretched a hand to arrange
+something.  The perfection of her poise, the beauty of her lines, the
+charm of her face seized Carnac, and, with an impulse, he ran his arm
+around her waist.
+
+"Junia--Junia!" he said in a voice of rash, warm feeling.
+
+She was like a wild bird caught in its flight.  A sudden stillness held
+her, and then she turned her head towards him, subdued inquiry in her
+eyes.  For a moment only she looked--and then she said:
+
+"Take your arm away, please."
+
+The conviction that he ought not to make any sign of love to her broke
+his sudden passion.  He drew back ashamed, yet defiant, rebuked, yet
+rebellious.  It was like a challenge to her.  A sarcastic smile crossed
+her lips.
+
+"What a creature of impulses you are, Carnac!  When we were children the
+day you saved Denzil years ago you flung your arms around me and kissed
+me.  I didn't understand anything then, and what's more I don't think you
+did.  You were a wilful, hazardous boy, and went your way taking the
+flowers in the garden that didn't belong to you.  Yet after all these
+years, with an impulse behind which there is nothing--nothing at all,
+you repeat that incident."
+
+Suddenly passion seemed to possess her.  "How dare you trifle with things
+that mean so much!  Have you learned nothing since I saw you last?  Can
+nothing teach you, Carnac?  Can you not learn how to play the big part?
+If you weren't grown up, do you know what I would do?  I would slap the
+face of an insolent, thoughtless, hopeless boy."  Then her temper seemed
+to pass.  She caught up an apple again and thrust it into his hand.  "Go
+and eat that, Adam.  Perhaps it'll make you wise like the old Adam.  He
+put his faults upon a woman."
+
+"So do I," said Carnac.  "So do I."
+
+"That's what you would do, but you mustn't play that sort of game with a
+good woman."  She burst out laughing.  "For a man you're a precious fool!
+I don't think I want to see you again.  You don't improve.  You're full
+of horrid impulses."  Her indignation came back.  "How dare you put your
+arm around me!"
+
+"It was the impulse of my heart.  I can say no more; if I could I would.
+There's something I should like to tell you, but I mustn't."  He put the
+apple down.
+
+"About the other woman, I suppose," she said coldly, the hot indignation
+gone from her lips.
+
+He looked her steadfastly in the eyes.  "If you won't trust me--if you
+won't trust me--"
+
+"I've always trusted you," she replied, "but I don't trust you now.
+Don't you understand that a good girl hates conduct like yours?"
+
+Suddenly with anger he turned upon her.  "Yes, I understand everything,
+but you don't understand.  Why won't you believe that the reason I won't
+tell you my trouble is that it's best you shouldn't know?  You're a young
+girl; you don't know life; you haven't seen it as I've seen it--in the
+sewage, in the ditch, on the road, on the mountain and in the bog.  I
+want you to keep faith with your old friend who doesn't care what the
+rest of the world thinks, but who wants your confidence.  Trust me--don't
+condemn me.  Believe me, I haven't been wanton.  Won't you trust me?"
+
+The spirit of egotism was alive in her.  She knew how much she had denied
+herself in the past months.  She did not know whether she loved him, but
+injured pride tortured her.  Except in a dance and in sports at a picnic
+or recreation-ground no man had ever put his arms around her.  No man
+except Carnac, and that he had done it was like a lash upon the raw
+skinless flesh.  If she had been asked by the Almighty whether she loved
+Carnac, she would have said she did not know.  This was not a matter of
+love; but of womanhood, of self-respect, of the pride of one who cannot
+ask for herself what she wants in the field of love, who must wait to be
+wooed and won.
+
+"You don't think I'm straight," he said in protest.  "You think I'm no
+good, that I'm a fraud.  You're wrong.  Believe me, that is the truth."
+He came closer up to her.  "Junia, if you'll stand by me, I'm sure I'll
+come out right.  I've been caught in a mesh I can't untangle yet, but it
+can be untangled, and when it is, you shall know everything, because then
+you'll understand.  I can free myself from the tangle, but it could never
+be explained--not so the world would believe.  I haven't trifled with
+you.  I would believe in you even if I saw, or thought I saw, the signs
+of wrong in you.  I would know that at heart you were good.  I put my
+faith in you long ago--last year I staked all on your friendship, and I
+haven't been deceived."
+
+He smiled at her, his soul in his eyes.  There was truth in his smile,
+and she realized it.
+
+After a moment, she put out a hand and pushed him gently from her.  "Go
+away, Carnac, please--now," she said softly.
+
+A moment afterwards he was gone.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+JOHN GRIER MAKES A JOURNEY
+
+John Grier's business had beaten all past records.  Tarboe was
+everywhere: on the river, in the saw-mills, in the lumber-yards, in the
+office.  Health and strength and goodwill were with him, and he had the
+confidence of all men in the lumber-world.  It was rumoured that he was a
+partner of John Grier, and it was a good thing for him as well as for the
+business.  He was no partner, however; he was on a salary with a bonus
+percentage of the profits; but that increased his vigour.
+
+There were times when he longed for the backwoods life; when the smell of
+the pines and the firs and the juniper got into his nostrils; when he
+heard, in imagination, the shouts of the river-men as they chopped down
+the trees, sawed the boles into standard lengths, and plunged the big
+timbers into the stream, or round the fire at night made call upon the
+spirit of recreation.  In imagination, he felt the timbers creaking and
+straining under his feet; he smelt the rich soup from the cook's caboose;
+he drank basins of tea from well-polished metal; he saw the ugly rows in
+the taverns, where men let loose from river duty tried to regain civilian
+life by means of liquor and cards; he heard the stern thud of a hard fist
+against a piece of wood; he saw twenty men spring upon another twenty
+with rage in their faces; he saw hundreds of men arrived in civilization
+once again striking for their homes and loved ones, storming with life.
+He saw the door flung open, and the knee-booted, corduroyed river-man,
+with red sash around his waist and gold rings in his ears, seize the
+woman he called wife and swing her to him with a hungry joy; he saw the
+children pushed gently here, or roughly, but playfully, tossed in the air
+and caught again; but he also saw the rough spirits of the river march
+into their homes like tyrants returned, as it were, cursing and banging
+their way back to their rightful nests.
+
+Occasionally he would wish to be in it all again, out in the wild woods
+and on the river and in the shanty, free and strong and friendly and a
+bit ferocious.  All he had known of the backwoods life filled his veins,
+tortured him at times.
+
+From the day that both wills were made and signed, no word had been
+spoken concerning them between him and John Grier.  He admired certain
+characteristics of John Grier; some secret charities, some impulsive
+generosity, some signs of public spirit.  The old man was fond of
+animals, and had given water-troughs to the town; and his own horses and
+the horses he used in the woods were always well fed.  Also, in all his
+arrangements for the woods, he was generous.  He believed in feeding his
+men well.  It was rough food--beans, potatoes, peas, lentils, pork in
+barrels-salted pork; but there was bread of the best, rich soup, pork
+well boiled and fried, with good tea, freshly made.  This was the regular
+fare, and men throve on it.
+
+One day, however, shortly after Carnac's return home, there came a change
+in the scene.  Things had been going badly for a couple of days and the
+old man had been seriously overworked.  He had not listened to the
+warnings of Tarboe, or to the hints thrown out by his own punished
+physique.  He was not a man to take hints.  Everything that vexed his
+life roused opposition.  This Tarboe knew, but he also knew that the
+business must suffer, if the old man suffered.
+
+When John Grier left the office it was with head bowed and mind
+depressed.  Nothing had happened to cause him grave anxiety, yet he had
+been below par for several hours.  Why was he working so hard?  Why was
+life to him such a concentration?  Why did he seek for more money and to
+get more power?  To whom could it go?  Not to Fabian; not to his wife.
+To Tarboe--well, there was not enough in that!  This man had only lately
+come into his life, and was only near to him in a business sense.  Carnac
+was near in every sense that really mattered, and Carnac was out of it
+all.
+
+He was not loved, and in his heart of hearts he knew it, but he had had
+his own way, and he loved himself.  No one seemed to care for him, not
+even his wife.  How many years was it since they had roomed together?
+Yet as he went towards his own home now, he recalled the day they were
+married, and for the first time had drawn as near to each other as life
+could draw.  He had thought her wonderful then, refined, and oh! so rich
+in life's gifts.  His love had almost throttled her.  She was warm and
+bountiful and full of temperament.  So it went for three years, and then
+slowly he drew away from her until at last, returning from the backwoods,
+he had gone to another room, and there had stayed.  Very occasionally he
+had smothered her with affection, but that had passed, until now, middle-
+aged, she seemed to be not a room away from him, but a thousand rooms
+away.  He saw it with no reproach to himself.  He forgot it was he who
+had left her room, and had set up his own tabernacle, because his hours
+differed from hers, and because she tossed in her bed at nights, and that
+made him restless too.
+
+Yet, if his love had been the real thing, he would have stayed, because
+their lives were so similar, and the rules of domestic life in French
+Canada were so fixed.  He had spoiled his own household, destroyed his
+own peace, forsaken his own nest, outlived his hope and the possibility
+of further hope, except more business success, more to leave behind him.
+
+That was the stern truth.  Had he been a different man the devotion his
+wife had shown would have drawn him back to her; had she been a different
+woman, unvexed by a horrible remembrance, she would have made his soul
+her own and her soul his own once again.  She had not dared to tell him
+the truth; afraid more for her boy's sake than for her own.  She had been
+glad that Tarboe had helped to replace the broken link with Fabian, that
+he had taken the place which Carnac, had he been John Grier's son, ought
+to have taken.  She could not blame Carnac, and she could not blame her
+husband, but the thing ate into her heart.
+
+John Grier found her sitting by her table in the great living-room,
+patient and grave, and yet she smiled at him, and rose as he came into
+the room.  His troubled face brought her forward quickly.  She stretched
+out a hand appealingly to him.
+
+"What's the matter, John?  Has anything upset you?"
+
+"I'm not upset."
+
+"Yes you are," she urged, "but, yes, you are!  Something has gone wrong."
+
+"Nothing's gone wrong that hasn't been wrong for many a year," he said.
+
+"What's been wrong for many a year?"
+
+"The boys you brought into this world--your sons!" he burst out.  "Why
+isn't Carnac working with me?  There must have been something damned bad
+in the bringing up of those boys.  I've not, got the love of any of you,
+and I know it.  Why should I be thrown over by every one?"
+
+"Every one hasn't thrown you over.  Mr. Tarboe hasn't.  You've been in
+great spirits about him.  What's the matter?"
+
+He waved a hand savagely at her, with an almost insane look in his eyes.
+
+"What's he to me!  He's a man of business.  In a business way I like him,
+but I want my own flesh and blood by me in my business.  I wanted Carnac,
+and he wouldn't come--a few weeks only he came.  I had Fabian, and he
+wouldn't stay.  If I'd had a real chance--"
+
+He broke off, with an outward savage protest of his hands, his voice
+falling.
+
+"If you'd had your chance, you'd have made your own home happy," she said
+sadly.  "That was your first duty, not your business--your home--your
+home!  You didn't care about it.  There were times when for months you
+forgot me; and then--then--"
+
+Suddenly a dreadful suspicion seized his brain.  His head bent forward,
+his shoulders thrust out, he stumbled towards her.
+
+"Then--well, what then!" he gasped.  "Then--you--forgot--"
+
+She realized she had gone too far, saw the storm in his mind.
+
+"No--no--no, I didn't forget you, John.  Never--but--"
+
+She got no farther.  Suddenly his hands stretched out as if to seize her
+shoulders, his face became tortured--he swayed.  She caught him.  She
+lowered him to the floor, and put a hassock under his head.  Then she
+rang the bell--rang it--and rang again.
+
+When help came, all was too late.  John Grier had gone for ever.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+THE READING OF THE WILL
+
+As Tarboe stood in the church alone at the funeral, in a pew behind John
+Grier's family, sadness held him.  He had known, as no one else knew,
+that the business would pass into his own hands.  He suddenly felt his
+task too big for him, and he looked at Carnac now with sympathy.  Carnac
+had brains, capacity, could almost take his father's place; he was
+tactful, intuitive, alert.  Yet Carnac, at present, was out of the
+question.  He knew the stress of spirit which had turned Carnac from
+the opportunity lying at his feet.
+
+In spite of himself there ran through his mind another thought.  Near by,
+at the left, dressed in mourning also, was Junia.  He had made up his
+mind that Junia should be his, and suddenly the usefulness of the
+business about to fall into his hands became a weapon in the field of
+Love.  He was physically a finer man than Carnac; he had capacity; he had
+personality; and he would have money and position--for a time at least.
+In that time, why should he not win this girl with the wonderful eyes and
+hair, with the frankness and candour of unspoiled girlhood in her face?
+Presently he would be in the blare of sensation, in the height of as
+dramatic an episode as comes to the lives of men; and in the episode he
+saw advantages which should weigh with any girl.
+
+Then had come the reading of the will after the funeral rites were over,
+and he, with the family, were gathered in the dining-room of the House on
+the Hill.
+
+He was scarcely ready, however, for the prodigious silence following the
+announcement read by the lawyer.  He felt as though life was suspended
+for many minutes, when it was proclaimed that he, Luke Tarboe, would
+inherit the property.  Although he knew of the contents of the will his
+heart was thumping like a sledge-hammer.
+
+He looked round the room slowly.  The only embarrassment to be seen was
+on the faces of Fabian and his wife.  Mrs. Grier and Carnac showed
+nothing.  Carnac did not even move; by neither gesture nor motion of body
+did he show aught.  At the close of it all, he came to Tarboe and held
+out a hand.
+
+"Good luck to you, Tarboe!" he said.  "You'll make a success, and that's
+what he wanted more than anything else.  Good luck to you!" he said
+again and turned away.  .  .  .
+
+When John Grier's will was published in the Press consternation filled
+the minds of all.  Tarboe had been in the business for under two years,
+yet here he was left all the property with uncontracted power.  Mrs. John
+Grier was to be paid during her life a yearly stipend of twenty thousand
+dollars from the business; she also received a grant of seventy thousand
+dollars.  Beyond that, there were a few gifts to hospitals and for the
+protection of horses, while to the clergyman of the parish went one
+thousand dollars.  It certainly could not be called a popular will, and,
+complimentary as the newspapers were to the energy and success of John
+Grier, few of them called him public-spirited, or a generous-hearted
+citizen.  In his death he paid the price of his egotism.
+
+The most surprised person, however, was Junia Shale.
+
+To her it was shameful that Carnac should be eliminated from all share in
+the abundant fortune John Grier had built up.  It seemed fantastic that
+the fortune and the business--and the business was the fortune--should be
+left to Tarboe.  Had she known the contents of the will before John Grier
+was buried, she would not have gone to the funeral.  Egotistic she had
+known Grier to be, and she imagined the will to be a sudden result of
+anger.  He was dead and buried.  The places that knew him knew him no
+more.  All in an hour, as it were, the man Tarboe--that dominant,
+resourceful figure--had come into wealth and power.
+
+After Junia read the substance of the will, she went springing up the
+mountain-side, as it were to work off her excitement by fatigue.  At the
+mountain-top she gazed over the River St. Lawrence with an eye blind to
+all except this terrible distortion of life.  Yet through her
+obfuscation, there ran admiration for Tarboe.  What a man he was!  He
+had captured John Grier as quickly and as securely as a night fisherman
+spears a sturgeon in the flare at the bow of the boat.  Tarboe's ability
+was as marked as John Grier's mad policy.  It was strange that Tarboe
+should have bewildered and bamboozled--if that word could be used--the
+old millowner.  It was as curious and thrilling as John Grier's
+fanaticism.
+
+Already the pinch of corruption had nipped his flesh; he was useless,
+motionless in his narrow house, and yet, unseen but powerful, his
+influence went on.  It shamed a wife and son; it blackened the doors
+of a home; it penalized a family.
+
+Indeed he had been a bad man, and yet she could not reconcile it all
+with a wonderful something in him, a boldness, a sense of humour, an
+everlasting energy, an electric power.  She had never seen anyone
+vitalize everything round him as John Grier had done.  He threw things
+from him like an exasperated giant; he drew things to him like an Angel
+of the Covenant.  To him life was less a problem than an experiment, and
+this last act, this nameless repudiation of the laws of family life, was
+like the sign of a chemist's activity.  As she stood on the mountain-top
+her breath suddenly came fast, and she caught her bosom with angry hands.
+
+"Carnac--poor Carnac!" she exclaimed.
+
+What would the world say?  There were those, perhaps, who thought Carnac
+almost a ne'er-do-well, but they were of the commercial world where John
+Grier had been supreme.
+
+At the same moment, Carnac in the garden of his old home beheld the river
+too and the great expanse of country, saw the grey light of evening on
+the distant hills, and listened to Fabian who condoled with him.  When
+Fabian had gone, Carnac sat down on a bench and thought over the whole
+thing.  Carnac had no quarrel with his fate.  When in the old home on the
+hill he had heard the will, it had surprised him, but it had not shocked
+him.  He had looked to be the discarded heir, and he knew it now without
+rebellion.  He had never tried to smooth the path to that financial
+security which his father could give.  Yet now that disaster had come,
+there was a glimmer of remorse, of revolt, because there was some one
+besides himself who might think he had thrown away his chances.  He did
+not know that over on the mountain-side, vituperating the memory of the
+dead man, Junia was angry only for Carnac's sake.
+
+With the black storm of sudden death roaring in his ears, he had a sense
+of freedom, almost of licence.  Nothing that had been his father's was
+now his own, or his mother's, except the land and house on which they
+were.  All the great business John Grier had built up was gone into the
+hands of the usurper, a young, bold, pestilent, powerful, vigorous man.
+It seemed suddenly horrible that the timber-yards and the woods and the
+offices, and the buildings of John Grier's commercial business were not
+under his own direction, or that of his mother, or brother.  They had
+ceased to be factors in the equation; they were 'non est' in the
+postmortem history of John Grier.  How immense a nerve the old man had to
+make such a will, which outraged every convention of social and family
+life; which was, in effect, a proclamation that his son Carnac had no
+place in John Grier's scheme of things, while John Grier's wife was
+rewarded like some faithful old servant.  Yet some newspapers had said he
+was a man of goodwill, and had appreciation of talent, adding, however,
+the doubtful suggestion that the appreciation stopped short of the
+prowess of his son Carnac in the field of Art.  It was evident John
+Grier's act was thought by the conventionalist to be a wicked blunder.
+
+As Carnac saw the world where there was not a single material thing that
+belonged to him, he had a sudden conviction that his life would run in
+other lines than those within which it had been drawn to the present
+time.  Looking over this wonderful prospect of the St. Lawrence, he had
+an insistent feeling that he ought to remain in the land where he was
+born, and give of whatever he was capable to its life.  It was all a
+strenuous problem.  For Carnac there was, duly or unduly, fairly or
+unfairly, a fate better than that of John Grier.  If he died suddenly,
+as his father had died, a handful of people would sorrow with excess of
+feeling, and the growing world of his patrons would lament his loss.
+No one really grieved for John Grier's departure, except--strange to say
+--Tarboe.
+
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CARNAC'S FOLLY, BY PARKER, V2 ***
+
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