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+The Project Gutenberg EBook Carnac's Folly, by Gilbert Parker, v3
+#125 in our series by Gilbert Parker
+
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+Title: Carnac's Folly, Volume 3.
+
+Author: Gilbert Parker
+
+Release Date: August, 2004  [EBook #6298]
+[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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+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CARNAC'S FOLLY, BY PARKER, V3 ***
+
+
+
+This eBook was produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+CARNAC'S FOLLY
+
+By Gilbert Parker
+
+
+
+BOOK III
+
+XVIII.    A GREAT DECISION
+XIX.      CARNAC BECOMES A CANDIDATE
+XX.       JUNIA AND TARBOE HEAR THE NEWS
+XXI.      THE SECRET MEETING
+XXII.     POINT TO POINT
+XXIII.    THE MAN WHO WOULD NOT
+XXIV.     THE BLUE PAPER
+XXV.      DENZIL TAKES A HAND IN THE GAME
+XXVI.     THE CHALLENGE
+XXVII.    EXIT
+XXVIII.   A WOMAN WRITES A LETTER
+XXIX.     CARNAC AND HIS MOTHER
+XXX.      TARBOE HAS A DREAM
+XXXI.     THIS WAY HOME
+XXXII.    'HALVES, PARDNER, HALVES'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+A GREAT DECISION
+
+Months went by.  In them Destiny made new drawings.  With his mother,
+Carnac went to paint at a place called Charlemont.  Tarboe pursued his
+work at the mills successfully; Junia saw nothing of Carnac, but she had
+a letter from him, and it might have been written by a man to his friend,
+yet with an undercurrent of sadness that troubled her.
+
+She might, perhaps, have yielded to the attentions of Tarboe, had not an
+appealing message come from her aunt, and at an hour's notice went West
+again on her mission of sick-service.
+
+Politically the Province of Quebec was in turmoil.  The time was drawing
+near when the Dominion Government must go to the polls, and in the most
+secluded cottage on the St. Lawrence, the virtues and defects of the
+administration were vital questions.  Voters knew as much of technical
+law-making as the average voter everywhere, but no more, and sometimes
+less.  Yet there was in the mind of the French-Canadian an intuition,
+which was as valuable as the deeper knowledge of a trained politician.
+The two great parties in the Province were led by Frenchmen.  The English
+people, however, were chiefly identified with the party opposed to Barode
+Barouche, the Secretary of State.
+
+As the agitation began in the late spring, Carnac became suddenly
+interested in everything political.
+
+He realized what John Grier had said concerning politics--that, given
+other characteristics, the making of laws meant success or failure for
+every profession or trade, for every interest in the country.  He had
+known a few politicians; though he had never yet met the most dominant
+figure in the Province--Barode Barouche, who had a singular fascination
+for him.  He seemed a man dominant and plausible, with a right-minded
+impulsiveness.  Things John Grier had said about Barouche rang in his
+ears.
+
+As the autumn drew near excitement increased.  Political meetings were
+being held everywhere.  There was one feature more common in Canada than
+in any other country; opposing candidates met on the same platform and
+fought their fight out in the hearing of those whom they were wooing.
+One day Carnac read in a newspaper that Barode Barouche was to speak at
+St. Annabel.  As that was not far from Charlemont he determined to hear
+Barouche for the first time.  He had for him a sympathy which, to
+himself, seemed a matter of temperament.
+
+"Mother," he said, "wouldn't you like to go and hear Barode Barouche at
+St. Annabel?  You know him--I mean personally?"
+
+"Yes, I knew him long ago," was the scarcely vocal reply.
+
+"He's a great, fine man, isn't he?  Wrong-headed, wrong-purposed, but a
+big fine fellow."
+
+"If a man is wrong-headed and wrong-purposed, it isn't easy for him to be
+fine, is it?"
+
+"That depends.  A man might want to save his country by making some good
+law, and be mistaken both as to the result of that law and the right
+methods in making it.  I'd like you to be with me when I hear him for the
+first time.  I've got a feeling he's one of the biggest men of our day.
+Of course he isn't perfect.  A man might want to save another's life, but
+he might choose the wrong way to do it, and that's wrongheaded; and
+perhaps he oughtn't to save the man's life, and that's wrong-purposed.
+There's no crime in either.  Let's go and hear Monsieur Barouche."
+
+He did not see the flush which suddenly filled her face; and, if he had,
+he would not have understood.  For her a long twenty-seven years rolled
+back to the day when she was a young neglected wife, full of life's
+vitalities, out on a junction of the river and the wild woods, with
+Barode Barouche's fishing-camp near by.  She shivered now as she thought
+of it.  It was all so strange, and heart-breaking.  For long years she
+had paid the price of her mistake.  She knew how eloquent Barode Barouche
+could be; she knew how his voice had all the ravishment of silver bells
+to the unsuspecting.  How well she knew him; how deeply she realized the
+darkness of his nature!  Once she had said to him:
+
+"Sometimes I think that for duty's sake you would cling like a leech."
+
+It was true.  For thirty long years he had been in one sense homeless,
+his wife having lost her reason three years after they were married.  In
+that time he had faithfully visited the place of her confinement every
+month of his life, sobered, chastened, at first hopeful, defiant.  At the
+bottom of his heart Barode Barouche did not want marital freedom.  He had
+loved the mad woman.  He remembered her in the glory of her youth, in the
+splendour of her beauty.  The insane asylum did not destroy his memory.
+
+Mrs. Grier remembered too, but in a different way.  Her relations with
+him had been one swift, absorbing fever--a mad dream, a moment of rash
+impulse, a yielding to the natural feeling which her own husband had
+aroused: the husband who now neglected her while Barode Barouche treated
+her so well, until a day when under his beguilement a stormy impulse
+gave--Carnac.  Then the end came, instant and final; she bolted, barred
+and locked the door against Barode and he had made little effort to open
+it.  So they had parted, and had never clasped hands or kissed again.  To
+him she was a sin of which he never repented.  He had watched the growth
+and development of Carnac with a sharp sympathy.  He was not a good man;
+but in him were seeds of goodness.  To her he was the lash searing her
+flesh, day in day out, year in year out, which kept her sacred to her
+home.  For her children's sake she did not tell her husband, and she had
+emptied out her heart over Carnac with overwhelming fondness.
+
+"Yes, I'll go, Carnac," she said at last, for it seemed the easier way.
+"I haven't been to a political meeting for many years."
+
+"That's right.  I like your being with me."
+
+The meeting was held in what had been a skating-rink and drill-hall.  On
+the platform in the centre was the chairman, with Barode Barouche on his
+right.  There was some preliminary speech-making from the chairman.  A
+resolution was moved supporting Barouche, his party and policy, and there
+were little explosions of merriment at strokes of unconscious humour made
+by the speakers; and especially by one old farmer who made his jokes on
+the spot, and who now tried to embalm Barouche with praise.  He drew
+attention to Barouche's leonine head and beard, to his alert eyes and
+quizzical face, and said he was as strong in the field of legislation as
+he was in body and mind.  Carnac noticed that Barouche listened good-
+naturedly, and now and then cocked his head and looked up at the ceiling
+as though to find something there.
+
+There was a curious familiarity in the action of the head which struck
+Carnac.  He and his mother were seated about five rows back from the
+front row on the edge of the aisle.  As the meeting progressed,
+Barouche's eyes wandered slowly over the faces of his audience.
+Presently he saw Carnac and his mother.  Mrs. Grier was conscious of a
+shock upon the mind of Barouche.  She saw his eyes go misty with feeling.
+For him the world was suddenly shut out, and he only saw the woods of a
+late summer's afternoon, a lonely tent--and a woman.  A flush crept up
+his face.  Then he made a spasmodic gesture of the hand, outward, which
+again Carnac recognized as familiar.  It was the kind of thing he did
+himself.
+
+So absorbed was Barode Barouche that he only mechanically heard the
+chairman announce himself, but when he got to his feet his full senses
+came back.  The sight of the woman to whom he had been so much, and who
+had been so much to him for one short month, magnetized him; the face of
+the boy, so like his own as he remembered it thirty years ago, stirred
+his veins.  There before him was his own one unacknowledged child--the
+only child ever born to him.  His heart throbbed.  Then he began to
+speak.  Never in all his life had he spoken as he did this day.  It was
+only a rural audience; there was not much intelligence in it; but it had
+a character all its own.  It was alive to its own interests, chiefly of
+agriculture and the river.  It was composed of both parties, and he could
+stimulate his own side, and, perhaps, win the other.
+
+Thus it was that, with the blood pounding through his veins, the inspired
+sensualist began his speech.  It was his duty to map out a policy for the
+future; to give the people an idea of what his party meant to do; to
+guide, to inspire, to inflame.
+
+As Carnac listened he kept framing the words not yet issued, but which
+did issue from Barouche's mouth; his quick intelligence correctly
+imagined the line Barouche would take; again and again Barouche made
+a gesture, or tossed his head, or swung upon his feet to right and left
+in harmony with Carnac's own mind.  Carnac would say to himself: "Why,
+that's what I'd have done--that's what I'd have said, if I had his
+policy."  More than once, in some inspired moment of the speech, he
+caught his mother's hand, and he did not notice that her hand trembled.
+
+But as for one of Barouche's chapter of policy Carnac almost sprang to
+his feet in protest when Barouche declared it.  To Carnac it seemed fatal
+to French Canada, though it was expounded with a taking air; yet as he
+himself had said it was "wrong-headed and wrong-purposed."
+
+When the speech had finished to great cheering, Carnac suddenly turned to
+his mother:
+
+"He's on the wrong track.  I know the policy to down his.  He's got no
+opponent.  I'm going to stand against him at the polls."
+
+She clutched his arm.  "Carnac--Carnac!  You don't know what you're
+doing."
+
+"Well, I will pretty quick," he replied stoutly.  "I'm out after him, if
+they'll have me."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+CARNAC BECOMES A CANDIDATE
+
+That night Carnac mapped out his course, carefully framed the policy to
+offset that of Barode Barouche, and wrote a letter to the Chairman of
+the Opposition at Montreal offering to stand, and putting forward an
+ingenious policy.  He asked also for an interview; and the interview was
+granted by telegram--almost to his surprise.  He was aware, however, of
+the discontent among the English members of the Opposition, and of the
+wish of the French members to find a good compromise.
+
+He had a hope that his singular position--the notoriety which his
+father's death and his own financial disfranchisement had caused--would
+be a fine card in his favour.  He was not mistaken.  His letter arrived
+at Headquarters when there were difficulties concerning three candidates
+who were pressing their claims.  Carnac Grier, the disinherited son of
+the great lumber-king, who had fame as an artist, spoke French as though
+it were his native tongue, was an element of sensation which, if adroitly
+used, could be of great service.  It might even defeat Barode Barouche.
+In the first place, Carnac was young, good-looking, personable, and
+taking in his manner.  Barouche was old, experienced, with hosts of
+enemies and many friends, but with injurious egotism.  An interview was,
+therefore, arranged at Headquarters.
+
+On the morning of the day it took place, Carnac's anguished mother went
+with him to the little railway station of Charlemont.  She had slept
+little the night before; her mind was in an eddy of emotions.  It seemed
+dreadful that Carnac should fight his own father, repeating what Fabian
+had done in another way.  Yet at the bottom of her heart there was a
+secret joy.  Some native revolt in her had joy in the thought that the
+son might extort a price for her long sorrow and his unknown disgrace.
+
+As she had listened to Barouche at the meeting, she realized how sincere
+yet insincere he was; how gifted and yet how ungracious was his mind.
+Her youth was over; long pain and regret had chastened her.  She was as
+lonely a creature as ever the world knew; violence was no part of her
+equipment; and yet terrible memories made her assent to this new phase of
+Carnac's life.  She wondered what Barouche would think.  There was some
+ancient touch of war in her which made her rejoice that after long years
+the hammer should strike.
+
+Somehow the thing's tremendous possibilities thrilled her.  Carnac had
+always been a politician--always.  She remembered how, when he was a boy,
+he had argued with John Grier on national matters, laid down the law with
+the assurance of an undergraduate, and invented theories impossible of
+public acceptance.  Yet in every stand he had taken, there had been
+thought, logic and reasoning, wrongly premised, but always based on
+principles.  On paper he was generally right; in practice, generally
+wrong.  His buoyant devotion to an idea was an inspiration and a tonic.
+The curious thing was that, while still this political matter was hanging
+fire, he painted with elation.
+
+His mother knew he did not see the thousand little things which made
+public life so wearying; that he only realized the big elements of
+national policy.  She understood how those big things would inspire the
+artist in him.  For, after all, there was the spirit of Art in framing a
+great policy which would benefit millions in the present and countless
+millions in the future.  So, at the railway station, as they waited for
+the train, with an agitation outwardly controlled, she said:
+
+"The men who have fought before, will want to stand, so don't be
+surprised if--"
+
+"If they reject me, mother?" interrupted Carnac.  No, I shan't be
+surprised, but I feel in my bones that I'm going to fight Barode
+Barouche into the last corner of the corral."
+
+"Don't be too sure of that, my son.  Won't the thing that prevents your
+marrying Junia be a danger in this, if you go on?"
+
+Sullen tragedy came into his face, his lips set.  The sudden paleness of
+his cheek, however, was lost in a smile.
+
+"Yes, I've thought of that; but if it has to come, better it should come
+now than later.  If the truth must be told, I'll tell it--yes, I'll tell
+it!"
+
+"Be bold, but not reckless, Carnac," his mother urged.
+
+Just then the whistling train approached.  She longed to put a hand out
+and hold him back, and yet she ached to let him go.  Yet as Carnac
+mounted the steps of the car, a cry went out from her heart: "My son,
+stay with me here--don't go."  That was only in her heart, however; with
+her lips she said: "Good luck!  God bless you, Carnac!" and then the
+train rolled away, leaving her alone in the bright, bountiful morning.
+
+Before the day was done, Headquarters had accepted Carnac, in part, as
+the solution of their own difficult problem.  The three applicants for
+the post each hated the other; but all, before the day was over, agreed
+to Carnac as an effective opponent of Barouche.
+
+One thing seemed clear--Carnac's policy had elements of seduction
+appealing to the selfishness of all sections, and he had an eloquence
+which would make Barouche uneasy.  That eloquence was shown in a speech
+Carnac made in the late evening to the assembled executive.  He spoke for
+only a quarter of an hour, but it was long enough to leave upon all who
+heard him an impression of power, pertinacity, picturesqueness and
+appeal.  He might make mistakes, but he had qualities which would ride
+over errors with success.
+
+"I'm not French," he said at last in his speech, "but I used to think
+and write in French as though I'd been born in Normandy.  I'm English
+by birth and breeding, but I've always gone to French schools and to
+a French University, and I know what New France means.  I stand to my
+English origin, but I want to see the French develop here as they've
+developed in France, alive to all new ideas, dreaming good dreams.
+I believe that Frenchmen in Canada can, and should, be an inspiration
+to the whole population.  Their great qualities should be the fibre in
+the body of public opinion.  I will not pander to the French; I will not
+be the slave of the English; I will be free, and I hope I shall be
+successful at the polls."
+
+This was a small part of the speech which caused much enthusiasm, and was
+the beginning of a movement, powerful, and as time went on, impetuous.
+
+He went to bed with the blood of battle throbbing in his veins.  In the
+morning he had a reasonable joy in seeing the headlines of his
+candidature in the papers.
+
+At first he was almost appalled, for never since life began had his
+personality been so displayed.  It seemed absurd that before he had
+struck a blow he should be advertised like a general in the field.
+Yet common sense told him that in standing against Barouche, he became
+important in the eyes of those affected by Barouche's policy.  He had had
+luck, and it was for him to justify that luck.  Could he do it?  His
+first thought, however, as his eyes fell on the headlines--he flushed
+with elation so that he scarcely saw--was for the thing itself.  Before
+him there flashed a face, however, which at once sobered his exaltation.
+It was the face of Junia.
+
+"I wonder what she will think," he said to himself, with a little
+perplexity.
+
+He knew in his heart of hearts she would not think it incongruous that
+he, an artist, should become a politician.  Good laws served to make life
+beautiful, good pictures ministered to beauty; good laws helped to tell
+the story of human development; good sculpture strengthened the soul;
+good laws made life's conveniences greater, enlarged activity, lessened
+the friction of things not yet adjusted; good laws taught their framers
+how to balance things, how to make new principles apply without
+disturbing old rights; good pictures increased the well-balanced harmony
+of the mind of the people.  Junia would understand these things.  As he
+sat at his breakfast, with the newspaper spread against the teapot and
+the milk-pitcher, he felt satisfied he had done the bold and right, if
+incomprehensible, thing.
+
+But in another hotel, at another breakfast, another man read of Carnac's
+candidature with sickening surprise.  It was Barode Barouche.
+
+So, after twenty-seven long years, this was to be the issue!  His own
+son, whom he had never known, was to fight him at the polls!  Somehow,
+the day when he had seen Carnac and his mother at the political meeting
+had given him new emotions.  His wife, to whom he had been so faithful in
+one sense since she had passed into the asylum, had died, and with her
+going, a new field of life seemed to open up to him.  She had died
+almost on the same day as John Grier.  She had been buried secludedly,
+piteously, and he had gone back to his office with the thought that life
+had become a preposterous freedom.
+
+So it was that, on the day when he spoke at the political meeting, his
+life's tragedy became a hammer beating every nerve into emotion.  He was
+like one shipwrecked who strikes out with a swimmer's will to reach his
+goal.  All at once, on the platform, as he spoke, when his eyes saw the
+faces of Carnac and his mother the catastrophe stunned him like a huge
+engine of war.  There had come to him at last a sense of duty where Alma
+Grier was concerned.  She was nearly fifty years of age, and he was
+fifty-nine; she was a widow with this world's goods; she had been to him
+how near and dear! for a brief hour, and then--no more.  He knew the boy
+was his son, because he saw his own face, as it had been in his youth,
+though his mother's look was also there-transforming, illumining.
+
+He had a pang as he saw the two at the close of his meeting filtering out
+into the great retort of the world.  Then it was that he had the impulse
+to go to the woman's home, express his sorrow, and in some small sense
+wipe out his wrong by offering her marriage.  He had not gone.
+
+He knew of Carnac's success in the world of Art; and how he had alienated
+his reputed father by an independence revolting to a slave of convention.
+He had even bought, not from Carnac, but from a dealer, two of Carnac's
+pictures and a statue of a riverman.  Somehow the years had had their way
+with him.  He had at long last realized that material things were not the
+great things of life, and that imagination, however productive, should be
+guided by uprightness of soul.
+
+One thing was sure, the boy had never been told who his father was.  That
+Barouche knew.  He had the useful gift of reading the minds of people in
+their faces.  From Carnac's face, from Carnac's mother's face, had come
+to him the real story.  He knew that Alma Grier had sinned only once and
+with him.  In the first days after that ill-starred month, he had gone to
+her, only to be repelled as a woman can repel whose soul has been
+shocked, whose self-respect has been shamed.
+
+It had been as though she thrust out arms of infinite length to push him
+away, such had been the storm of her remorse, such the revulsion against
+herself and him.  So they had fallen apart, and he had seen his boy grow
+up independent, original, wilful, capable--a genius.  He read the
+newspaper reports of what had happened the day before with senses greatly
+alive.
+
+After all, politics was unlike everything else.  It was a profession
+recruited from all others.  The making of laws was done by all kinds of
+men.  One of the wisest advisers in river-law he had ever known was a
+priest; one of the best friends of the legislation of the medical
+profession was a woman; one of the bravest Ministers who had ever
+quarrelled with and conquered his colleagues had been an insurance agent;
+one of the sanest authorities on maritime law had been a man with a
+greater pride in his verses than in his practical capacity; and here was
+Carnac, who had painted pictures and made statues, plunging into politics
+with a policy as ingenious as his own, and as capable of logical
+presentation.  This boy, who was bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh,
+meant to fight him.  He threw back his head and laughed.  His boy, his
+son, meant to fight him, did he?  Well, so be it!  He got to his feet,
+and walked up and down the room.
+
+"God, what an issue this!" he said.  "It would be terrific, if he won.
+To wipe me out of the life where I have flourished--what a triumph for
+him!  And he would not know how great the triumph would be.  She has not
+told him.  Yet she will urge him on.  Suppose it was she put the idea
+into his head!"
+
+Then he threw back his head, shaking the long brown hair, browner than
+Carnac's, from his forehead.  "Suppose she did this thing--she who was
+all mine for one brief moment!  Suppose she--"
+
+Every nerve tingled; every drop of blood beat hard against his walls of
+flesh; his every vicious element sprang into life.
+
+"But no--but no, she would not do it.  She would not teach her son to
+destroy his own father.  But something must have told him to come and
+listen to me, to challenge me in his own mind, and then--then this
+thing!"
+
+He stared at the paper, leaning over the table, as though it were a
+document of terror.
+
+"I must go on: I must uphold the policy for which I've got the assent of
+the Government."  Suddenly his hands clenched.  "I will beat him.  He
+shall not bring me to the dust.  I gave him life, and he shall not take
+my life from me.  He's at the beginning; I'm going towards the end.
+I wronged his mother--yes, I wronged him too!  I wronged them both, but
+he does not know he's wronged.  He'll live his own life;
+he has lived it--"
+
+There came a tap at the door.  Presently it opened and a servant came in.
+He had in his hand a half-dozen telegrams.
+
+"All about the man that's going to fight you, I expect, m'sieu'," said
+the servant as he handed the telegrams.
+
+Barode Barouche did not reply, but nodded a little scornfully.
+
+"A woman has called," continued the servant.  "She wants to see you,
+m'sieu'.  It's very important, she says."
+
+Barouche shook his head in negation.  "No, Gaspard."
+
+"It ain't one of the usual kind, I think, m'sieu'," protested Gaspard.
+"It's about the election.  It's got something to do with that--" he
+pointed to the newspaper propped against the teapot.
+
+"It's about that, is it?  Well, what about that?"  He eyed the servant as
+though to see whether the woman had given any information.
+
+"I don't know.  She didn't tell me.  She's got a mind of her own.  She's
+even handsome, and she's well-dressed.  All she said was: 'Tell m'sieu' I
+want to see him.  It's about the election-about Mr. Grier.'"
+
+Barode Barouche's heart stopped.  Something about Carnac Grier--something
+about the election--and a woman!  He kept a hand on himself.  It must not
+be seen that he was in any way moved.
+
+"Is she English?"
+
+"She's French, m'sieu'."
+
+"You think I ought to see her, Gaspard?" said Barouche.
+
+"Sure," was the confident reply.  "I guess she's out against whoever's
+against you."
+
+"You never saw her before."
+
+"Not to my sense."
+
+"But I haven't finished my breakfast."
+
+"Well, if it's anything important that'll help you, m'sieu'.  It's like
+whittling.  If you can do things with your hands while you're talking and
+thinking, it's a great help.  You go on eating.  I'll show her up!"
+
+Barouche smiled maliciously.  "Well, show her up, Gaspard."
+
+The servant laughed.  "Perhaps she'll show herself up after I show her
+in," he said, and he went out hastily.
+
+Presently the door opened again, and Gaspard stepped inside.
+
+"A lady to see you, m'sieu'," he said.
+
+Barouche rose from the table, but he did not hold out his hand.  The
+woman was young, good looking, she seemed intelligent.  There was also
+a latent cruelty in her face which only a student of human nature could
+have seen quickly.  She was a woman with a grievance--that was sure.
+He knew the passionate excitement, fairly well controlled; he saw her
+bitterness at a glance.  He motioned her to a chair.
+
+"It's an early call," he said with a smile.  Smiling was one of his
+serviceable assets; it was said no man could so palaver the public with
+his cheerful goodnature.
+
+"Yes, it's an early call," she replied, "but I wish not to wait till you
+go to your office.  I wanted you to know something.  It has to do with
+Mr. Carnac Grier."
+
+"Oh, that--eh!"
+
+"It's something you've got to know.  If I give you the sure means to win
+your election, it would be worth while--eh?"
+
+The beating of Barouche's heart was hard, but nothing showed in his face.
+There he had control.
+
+"I like people who know their own minds," he said, "but I don't believe
+anything till I study what I hear.  Is it something to injure Mr. Grier?"
+
+"If a married man went about as a single man and stood up for Parliament
+against you, don't you think you could spoil him?"
+
+For a moment Barouche was silent.  Here was an impeachment of his own
+son, but this son was out to bring his own father to the ground.  There
+were two ways to look at it.  There was the son's point of view, and
+there was his own.  If he loved his son he ought to know the thing that
+threatened him; if he hated his son he ought to know.  So, after a
+moment's study of the face with the fiery eyes and a complexion like
+roses touched with frost, he said slowly:
+
+"Well, have I the honour of addressing Carnac Grier's wife?"
+
+Barouche had had many rewards in his life, but the sweetest reward of all
+was now his own.  As events proved, he had taken a course which, if he
+cared for his son, was for that son's well-being, and if he cared for
+himself most, was essential to his own well-being.
+
+Relief crossed the woman's face.  "I'll tell you everything," she said.
+
+Then Luzanne told her story, avoiding the fact that Carnac had been
+tricked into the marriage.  At last she said: "Now I've come here to
+make him acknowledge me.  He's ruined my life, broken my hopes, and--"
+
+"Broken your hopes!" interrupted Barode Barouche.  "How is that?"
+
+"I might have married some one else.  I could have married some one
+else."
+
+"Well, why don't you?  There's the Divorce Court.  What's to prevent it?"
+
+"You ask me that--you a Frenchman and a Roman Catholic!  I'm French.
+I was born in Paris."
+
+"When will you let me see your papers?"
+
+"When do you want to see them?"
+
+"To-day-if possible to-day," he answered.  Then he held her eyes.  "To
+whom else here have you told this story?"
+
+"No one--no one.  I only came last night, and when I took up the paper
+this morning, I saw.  Then I found out where you lived, and here I am,
+bien sur.  I'm here under my maiden name, Ma'm'selle Luzanne Larue."
+
+"That's right.  That's right.  Now, until we meet again, don't speak of
+this to anyone.  Will you give me your word?"
+
+"Absolutely," she said, and there was revenge and passion in her eyes.
+Suddenly a strange expression crept over her face.  She was puzzled.
+
+"There's something of him about you," she said, and her forehead
+gathered.  "There's some look!  Well, there it is, but it's something--
+I don't know what."
+
+A moment later she was gone.  As the door closed, he stretched his hands
+above his head.
+
+"Nom de Dieu, what a situation!" he remarked.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+JUNIA AND TARBOE HEAR THE NEWS
+
+To most people Carnac's candidature was a surprise; to some it was a
+bewilderment, and to one or two it was a shock.  To the second class
+belonged Fabian Grier and his wife; to the third class belonged Luke
+Tarboe.  Only one person seemed to understand it--by intuition: Junia.
+
+Somehow, nothing Carnac did changed Junia's views of him, or surprised
+her, though he made her indignant often enough.  To her mind, however, in
+the big things, his actions always had reasonableness.  She had never
+felt his artist-life was to be the only note of his career.  When,
+therefore, in the West she read a telegram in a newspaper announcing his
+candidature, she guessed the suddenness of his decision.  When she read
+it, she spread the paper on the table, smoothed it as though it were a
+beautiful piece of linen, then she stretched out her hands in happy
+benediction.  Like most of her sex, she loved the thrill of warfare.
+There flashed the feeling, however, that it would be finer sport if
+Carnac and Tarboe were to be at war, instead of Carnac and Barouche.  It
+was curious she never thought of Carnac but the other man came throbbing
+into sight--the millionaire, for he was that now.
+
+In one way, this last move of Carnac's had the elements of a master-
+stroke.  She knew how strange it would seem to the rest of the world, yet
+it did not seem strange to her.  No man she had ever seen had been so at
+home in the world of men, and also at home in the secluded field of the
+chisel and the brush as Carnac.
+
+She took the newspaper over to her aunt, holding it up.  The big
+headlines showed like semaphores on the page.  As the graceful figure of
+Junia drew to her aunt--her slim feet, in the brown, well-polished boots,
+the long, full neck, and then the chin, Grecian, shapely and firm, the
+straight, sensitive nose, the wonderful eyes under the well-cut, broad
+forehead, with the brown hair, covering it like a canopy--the old lady
+reached out and wound her arms round the lissome figure.  Situated so,
+she read the telegram, and then the old arms gripped her tighter.
+
+Presently, the whistle of a train sounded.  The aunt stretched out an
+approving finger to the sound.  She realized that the figure round which
+her arms hung trembled, for it was the "through" daily train for
+Montreal.
+
+"I'm going back at once, aunty," Junia said.
+
+                    ..........................
+
+"Well, I'm jiggered!"
+
+These were Tarboe's words when Carnac's candidature came first to him in
+the press.
+
+"He's 'broke' out in a new place," he added.
+
+Tarboe loved the spectacular, and this was indeed spectacular.  Yet he
+had not the mental vision of Junia who saw how close, in one intimate
+sense, was the relation between the artist life and the political life.
+To him it was a gigantic break from a green pasture into a red field of
+war.  To her, it was a resolution which, in anyone else's life, would
+have seemed abnormal; in Carnac's life it had naturalness.
+
+Tarboe had been for a few months only the reputed owner of the great
+business, and he had paid a big price for his headship in the weighty
+responsibility, the strain of control; but it had got into his blood,
+and he felt life would not be easy without it now.
+
+Besides, there was Junia.  To him she was the one being in the world
+worth struggling for; the bird to be caught on the wing, or coaxed into
+the nest, or snared into the net; and two of the three things he had
+tried without avail.  The third--the snaring?  He would not stop at that,
+if it would bring him what he wanted.  How to snare her!  He surveyed
+himself in the mirror.
+
+"A great hulking figure like that!" he said in disapproval.  "All bone
+and muscle and flesh and physical show!  It wouldn't weigh with her.
+She's too fine.  It isn't the animal in a man she likes.  It's what he
+can do, and what he is, and where he's going."
+
+Then he thought of Carnac's new outburst, and his veins ran cold.
+"She'll like that--but yes, she'll like that: and if he succeeds she'll
+think he's great.  Well, she'd be right.  He'll beat Barouche.  He's
+young and brave, careless and daring.  Now where am I in this fight?
+I belong to Barouche's party and my vote ought to go for him."
+
+For some minutes he sat in profound thought.  What part should he play?
+He liked Carnac, he owed him a debt which he could never repay.  Carnac
+had saved him from killing Denzil.  If that had happened, he himself
+might have gone to the gallows.
+
+He decided.  Sitting down, he wrote Carnac the following letter:
+
+     DEAR CARNAC GRIER,
+
+     I see you're beginning a new work.  You now belong to a party that I
+     am opposed to, but that doesn't stop me offering you support.  It's
+     not your general policy, but it is you, the son of your father, that
+     I mean to work for.  If you want financial help for your campaign--
+     or after it is over--come and get it here--ten thousand or more if
+     you wish.  Your father, if he knew--and perhaps he does know--would
+     be pleased that you, who could not be a man of business in his
+     world, are become a man of business in the bigger world of law-
+     making.  You may be right or wrong in that policy, but that don't
+     weigh with me.  You've taken on as big a job as ever your father
+     did.  What's the use of working if you don't try to do the big thing
+     that means a lot to people outside yourself!  If you make new good
+     laws, if you do something for the world that's wonderful, it's as
+     much as your father did, or, if he was alive, could do now.
+     Whatever there is here is yours to use.  When you come back here to
+     play your part, you'll make it a success--the whole blessed thing.
+     I don't wish you were here now, except that it's yours--all of it--
+     but I wish you to beat Barode Barouche.
+
+                                   Yours to the knife,
+
+                                                  LUKE TARBOE.
+
+
+He read the letter through, and coming to the words, "When you come back
+here to play your part, you'll make it a success--the whole blessed
+thing," he paused, reflecting .  .  .  He wondered what Carnac would
+think the words meant, and he felt it was bold, and, maybe, dangerous
+play; but it was not more dangerous than facts he had dealt with often
+in the last two years.  He would let it stand, that phrase of the hidden
+meaning.  He did not post the letter yet.
+
+Four days later he put on his wide-brimmed panama hat and went out into
+the street leading to the centre of the city.  There was trouble in the
+river reaches between his men and those of Belloc-Grier, and he was
+keeping an appointment with Belloc at Fabian Grier's office, where
+several such meetings had taken place.
+
+He had not gone far, however, when he saw a sprightly figure in light-
+brown linen cutting into his street from a cross-road.  He had not seen
+that figure for months-scarcely since John Grier's death, and his heart
+thumped in his breast.  It was Junia.  How would she greet him?
+
+A moment later he met her.  Raising his hat, he said: "Back to the
+firing-line, Miss Shale!  It'll make a big difference to every one
+concerned."
+
+"Are you then concerned?" she asked, with a faint smile.
+
+"One of the most concerned," he answered with a smile not so composed as
+her own.  "It's the honour of the name that's at stake."
+
+"You want to ruin Mr. Grier's chances in the fight?"
+
+"I didn't say that.  I said, 'the honour of the name,' and the name of my
+firm is 'Grier's Company of Lumbermen.'  So I'm in it with all my might,
+and here's a letter--I haven't posted it yet--saying to Carnac Grier
+where I stand.  Will you read it?  There's no reason why you shouldn't."
+He tore open the envelope and took the letter out.
+
+Junia took it, after hesitation, and read it till she came to the
+sentence about Carnac returning to the business.  She looked up,
+startled.
+
+"What does that mean?" she asked, pointing to the elusive sentence.
+
+"He might want to come into the business some day, and I'll give him his
+chance.  Nothing more than that."
+
+"Nothing more than that!" she said cynically.  "It's bravely said, but
+how can he be a partner if he can't buy the shares?"
+
+"That's a matter to be thought out," he answered with a queer twist to
+his mouth.
+
+"I see you've offered to help him with cash for the election," she said,
+handing back the letter.
+
+"I felt it had to be done.  Politics are expensive they sap the purse.
+That's why."
+
+"You never thought of giving him an income which would compensate a
+little for what his father failed to do for him?"
+
+There was asperity in her tone.
+
+"He wouldn't take from me what his father didn't give him."  Suddenly an
+idea seized him.  "Look here," he said, "you're a friend of the Griers,
+why don't you help keep things straight between the two concerns?  You
+could do it.  You have the art of getting your own way.  I've noticed
+that."
+
+"So you'd like me to persuade Fabian Grier to influence Belloc, because
+I'd make things easy for you!" she said briskly.  "Do you forget I've
+known Fabian since I was a baby, that my sister is his wife, and that his
+interests are near to me?"
+
+He did not knuckle down.  "I think it would be helping Fabian's
+interests.  Belloc and Fabian Grier are generally in the wrong, and to
+keep them right would be good business-policy.  When I've trouble with
+Belloc's firm it's because they act like dogs in the manger.  They seem
+to hate me to live."
+
+She laughed--a buoyant, scornful laugh.  "So all the fault is in Belloc
+and Fabian, is it?"  She was impressed enormously by his sangfroid and
+will to rule the roost.  "I think you're clever, and that you've got
+plenty of horse-sense, as they say in the West, but you'll be beaten in
+the end.  How does it feel"--she asked it with provoking candour--"to be
+the boss of big things?"
+
+"I know I'm always settling troubles my business foes make for me.  I
+have to settle one of them now, and I'm glad I've met you, for you can
+help me.  I want some new river-rules made.  If Belloc and Grier'll agree
+to them, we'll do away with this constant trouble between our gangs."
+
+"And you'd like me to help you?"
+
+He smiled a big riverman's smile down at her, full of good-humour and
+audacity.
+
+"If you could make it clear to Fabian that all I'm after is peace on the
+river, it'd do a lot of good."
+
+"Well, do you know," she said demurely, "I don't think I'll take a hand
+in this game, chiefly because--" she paused.
+
+"Yes: chiefly because--"
+
+"Because you'll get your own way without help.  You get everything you
+want," she added with a little savage comment.
+
+A flood of feeling came into his eyes, his head jerked like that of a
+bull-moose.  "No, I don't get everything I want.  The thing I want most
+in the world doesn't come to me."  His voice grew emotional.  She knew
+what he was trying to say, and as the idea was not new she kept
+composure.  "I'm not as lucky as you think me," he added.
+
+"You're pretty lucky.  You've done it all as easy as clasping your
+fingers.  If I had your luck--!" she paused.
+
+"I don't know about that, but if I could reach out and touch you at any
+time, as it were, I think it'd bring me permanent good luck.  You'll find
+out one day that my luck is only a bubble the prick of a pin'll destroy.
+I don't misunderstand it.  I've been left John Grier's business by Grier
+himself, and he's got a son that ought to have it, and maybe will have
+it, when the time is ripe."
+
+Suddenly an angry hand flashed out towards him.  "When the time is ripe!
+Does that mean, when you've made all you want, you'll give up to Carnac
+what isn't yours but his?  Why don't you do it now?"
+
+"Well, because, in the first place, I like my job and he doesn't want it;
+in the second place, I promised his father I'd run the business as he
+wished it run; and in the third place, Carnac wouldn't know how to use
+the income the business brings."
+
+She laughed in a mocking, challenging way.  "Was there ever a man didn't
+know how to use an income no matter how big it was!  You're talking
+enigmas, and I think we'd better say good-bye.  Your way to the Belloc
+offices is down that street."  She pointed.
+
+"And you won't help me?  You won't say a word to Fabian?"
+
+She shrugged a shoulder.  "If I were a man like you, who's so big, so
+lucky, and so dominant, I wouldn't ask a woman to help me.  I'd do the
+job myself.  I'd keep faith with my reputation.  But there's one nice
+thing about you: you're going to help Carnac to beat Barode Barouche.
+You've made a gallant offer.  If you'd gone against him, if you'd played
+Barouche's game, I--"
+
+The indignation which came to her face suddenly fled, and she said:
+"Honestly, I'd never speak to you again, and I always keep my word.
+Carnac'll see it through.  He's a man of mark, Mr. Tarboe, and he'll be
+Prime Minister of the whole country one day.  I don't think you'll like
+it."
+
+"You hit hard, but if I hadn't taken the business, Carnac Grier wouldn't
+have got it.  If it hadn't been me, it would have been some one else."
+
+"Well, why don't you live like a rich man and not like a foreman?"
+
+"I've been too busy to change my mode of living.  I only want enough to
+eat and drink and wear, and that's not costly."  Suddenly an idea came to
+him.  "Now, if that business had been left to you, you'd be building a
+stone house somewhere; and you'd have horses and carriages, and lots of
+servants, and you'd swing along like a pretty coloured bird in the
+springtime, wouldn't you?"
+
+"If I had wealth, I'd make it my servant.  I'd give it its chance; but as
+I haven't got it, I live as I do--poor and unknown."
+
+"Not unknown.  See, you could control what belonged to John Grier, if you
+would.  I need some one to show me how to spend the money coming from the
+business.  What is wealth unless you buy things that give pleasure to
+life?  Do you know--"
+
+He got no further.  "I don't know anything you're trying to tell me,
+and anyhow this is not the place--" With that she hastened from him up
+the street.  Tarboe had a pang, and yet her very last words gave him
+hope.  "I may be a bit sharp in business," he said to himself, "but I
+certainly am a fool in matters of the heart.  Yet what she said at last
+had something in it for me.  Every woman has an idea where a man ought
+to make love to her, and this open road certainly ain't the place.  If
+Carnac wins this game with Barouche I don't know where I'll be with her-
+maybe I'm a fool to help him."  He turned the letter over and over in his
+hand.  "No, I'm not.  I ought to do it, and I will."
+
+Then he fell to brooding.  He remembered about the second hidden will.
+There came upon him a wild wish to destroy it.  He loved controlling John
+Grier's business.  Never had anything absorbed him so.  Life seemed a new
+thing.  The idea of disappearing from the place where, with a stroke of
+his fingers, he moved five thousand men, or swept a forest into the great
+river, or touched a bell which set going a saw-mill with its many cross-
+cut saws, or filled a ship to take the pine, cedar, maple, ash or elm
+boards to Europe, or to the United States, was terrible to him.  He loved
+the smell of the fresh-cut wood.  The odour of the sawdust as he passed
+through a mill was sweeter than a million bunches of violets.  Many a
+time he had caught up a handful of the damp dust and smelt it, as an
+expert gardener would crumble the fallen flowers of a fruittree and sniff
+the sweet perfume.  To be master of one of the greatest enterprises of
+the New World for three years, and then to disappear!  He felt he could
+not do it.
+
+His feelings shook his big frame.  The love of a woman troubled his
+spirit.  Suppose the will were declared and the girl was still free,
+what would she do?
+
+As he set foot in the office of the firm of Belloc, however, he steeled
+himself to composure.
+
+His task well accomplished, he went back to his own office, and spent
+the day like a racehorse under the lash, restive, defiant, and reckless.
+When night and the shadows came, he sat alone in his office with drawn
+blinds, brooding, wondering.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+THE SECRET MEETING
+
+As election affairs progressed, Mrs. Grier kept withdrawn from public
+ways.  She did not seek supporters for her son.  As the weeks went on,
+the strain became intense.  Her eyes were aflame with excitement, but she
+grew thinner, until at last she was like a ghost haunting familiar
+scenes.  Once, and once only, did she have touch with Barode Barouche
+since the agitation began.  This was how it happened:
+
+Carnac was at Ottawa, and she was alone, in the late evening.  As she sat
+sewing, she heard a knock at the front door.  Her heart stood still.  It
+was a knock she had not heard for over a quarter of a century, but it had
+an unforgettable touch.  She waited a moment, her face pale, her eyes
+shining with tortured memory.  She waited for the servant to answer the
+knock, but presently she realized that the servant probably had not
+heard.  Laying down her work, she passed into the front hall.  There for
+an instant she paused, then opened the door.
+
+It was Barode Barouche.  Then the memory of a summer like a terrible
+dream shook her.  She trembled.  Some old quiver of the dead days swept
+through her.  How distant and how--bad it all was!  For one instant the
+old thrill repeated itself and then was gone--for ever.
+
+"What is it you wish here?" she asked.
+
+"Will you not shut the door?" he responded, for her fingers were on the
+handle.  "I cannot speak with the night looking in.  Won't you ask me to
+your sitting-room?  I'm not a robber or a rogue."
+
+Slowly she closed the door.  Then she turned, and, in the dim light, she
+said:
+
+"But you are both a robber and a rogue."
+
+He did not answer until they had entered the sittin-groom.
+
+"I gave you that which is out against me now.  Is he not brilliant,
+capable and courageous?"
+
+There was in her face a stern duty.
+
+"It was Fate, monsieur.  When he and I went to your political meeting at
+Charlemont it had no purpose.  No blush came to his cheek, because he did
+not know who his father is.  No one in the world knows--no one except
+myself, that must suffer to the end.  Your speech roused in him the
+native public sense, the ancient fire of the people from whom he did not
+know he came.  His origin has been his bane from the start.  He did not
+know why the man he thought his father seemed almost a stranger to him.
+He did not understand, and so they fell apart.  Yet John Grier would have
+given more than he had to win the boy to himself.  Do you ever think what
+the boy must have suffered?  He does not know.  Only you and I know!"
+She paused.
+
+He thrust out a hand as though to stay her speech, but she went on again
+
+"Go away from me.  You have spoiled my life; you have spoiled my boy's
+life, and now he fights you.  I give him no help save in one direction.
+I give to him something his reputed father withheld from him.  Don't you
+think it a strange thing"--her voice was thick with feeling--"that he
+never could bear to take money from John Grier, and that, even as a
+child, gifts seemed to trouble him.  I think he wanted to give back again
+all that John Grier had ever paid out to him or for him; and now, at
+last, he fights the man who gave him birth!  I wanted to tell John Grier
+all, but I did not because I knew it would spoil his life and my boy's
+life.  It was nothing to me whether I lived or died.  But I could not
+bear Carnac should know.  He was too noble to have his life spoiled."
+
+Barode Barouche drew himself together.  Here was a deep, significant
+problem, a situation that needed more expert handling than he had ever
+shown.  As he stood by the table, the dim light throwing haggard
+reflections on her face, he had a feeling that she was more than normal.
+He saw her greater than he had ever imagined her.  Something in him
+revolted at a war between his own son and himself.  Also, he wanted to
+tell her of the danger in which Carnac was--how Luzanne had come, and was
+hidden away in the outskirts of the city, waiting for the moment when the
+man who rejected her should be sacrificed.
+
+Now that Barouche was face to face with Alma Grier, however, he felt the
+appalling nature of his task.  In all the years he had taken no chance to
+pay tribute to the woman who, in a real sense, had been his mistress of
+body and mind for one short term of life, and who once, and once only,
+had yielded to him.  They were both advanced in years, and Life and Time
+had taken toll.  She was haggard, yet beautiful in a wan way.  He did not
+believe the vanished years had placed between them an impassable barrier.
+
+He put his chances to the test at last.
+
+"Yes, I know--I understand.  You remained silent because your nature was
+too generous to injure anyone.  Down at the bottom of his heart,
+cantankerous, tyrannical as he was, John Grier loved you, and I loved you
+also."
+
+She made a protest of her hand.  "Oh, no!  You never knew what love was--
+never!  You had passion, you had hunger of the body, but of love you did
+not know.  I know you, Barode Barouche.  You have no heart, you have only
+sentiment and imagination.  No--no, you could not be true.  You could
+never know how."
+
+Suddenly a tempest of fire seemed to burn in his eyes, in his whole
+being.  His face flushed: his eyes gleamed; his hands were thrust out
+with passion.
+
+"Will you not understand that were I as foul as hell, a woman like you
+would make me clean again?  The wild sin of our youth has eaten into the
+soul of my life.  You think I have been indifferent to you and to our
+boy.  No, never-never!  That I left you both to yourselves was the best
+proof I was not neglectful.  I was sorry, with all my soul, that you
+should have suffered through me.  In the first reaction, I felt that
+nothing could put me right with you or with eternal justice.  So I shrank
+away from you.  You thought it was lust satisfied.  I tell you it was
+honour shamed.  Good God!  You thought me just the brazen roue, who
+seized what came his way, who ate the fruit within his grasp, who lived
+to deceive for his own selfish joy.
+
+"Did you think that?  Then, if you did, I do not wonder you should be glad
+to see my son fighting me.  It would seem the horrible revenge Destiny
+should take."  He took a step nearer to her.  His face flamed, his arms
+stretched out.  "I have held you in these arms.  I come with repentance
+in my heart, with--"
+
+Her face now was flushed.  She interrupted him.
+
+"I don't believe in you, Barode Barouche.  At least my husband did not go
+from his hearthstone looking for what belonged to others.  No--No--no;
+however much I suffered, I understood that what he did not feel for me at
+least he felt for no one else.  To him, life was his business, and to the
+long end business mastered his emotions.  I have no faith in you!  In the
+depth of my soul something cries out: 'He is not true.  His life is
+false.'  To leave me that was right, but, monsieur, not as you left me.
+You pick the fruit and eat it and spit upon the ground the fibre and the
+skin.  I am no longer the slave of your false eloquence.  It has nothing
+in it for me now, nothing at all--nothing."
+
+"Yet your son--has he naught of me?  If your son has genius, I have the
+right to say a part of it came from me.  Why should you say that all
+that's good in the boy is yours--that the boy, in all he does and says,
+is yours!  No--no.  Your long years of suffering have hardened into
+injustice and wrong."
+
+Suddenly he touched her arm.  "There are women as young as you were when
+I wronged you, who would be my wife now--young, beautiful, buoyant; but I
+come to you because I feel we might still have some years of happiness.
+Together, where our boy's fate mattered, we two could help him on his
+way.  That is what I feel, my dear."
+
+When he touched her arm she did not move, yet there was in his fingers
+something which stirred ulcers long since healed and scarred.  She
+stepped back from him.
+
+"Do not touch me.  The past is buried for ever.  There can be no
+resurrection.  I know what I should do, and I will do it.  For the rest
+of my life, I shall live for my son.  I hope he will defeat you.  I don't
+lift a hand to help him except to give him money, not John Grier's money
+but my own, always that.  You are fighting what is stronger than
+yourself.  One thing is sure, he is nearer to the spirit of your race
+than you.  He will win--but yes, he will win!"
+
+Her face suffused with warmth, became alive with a wonderful fire, her
+whole being had a simple tragedy.  Once again, and perhaps for the last
+time, she had renewed the splendour of her young womanhood.  The vital
+warmth of a great idea had given an expression to her face which had long
+been absent from it.
+
+He fell back from her.  Then suddenly passion seized him.  The gaunt
+beauty of her roused a spirit of contest in him.  The evil thing in him,
+which her love for her son had almost conquered, came back upon him.  He
+remembered Luzanne, and now with a spirit alive with anger he said to
+her:
+
+"No--no--no, he cannot win."  He stretched out a hand.  "I have that
+which will keep for me the place in Parliament that has been mine; which
+will send him back to the isolation whence he came.  Do you think I don't
+know how to win an election?  Why from east to west, from north to south
+in this Province of Quebec my name, my fame, have been all-conquering.
+Suppose he did defeat me, do you think that would end my political life?
+It would end nothing.  I should still go on."
+
+A scornful smile came to her lips.  "So you think your party would find a
+seat for you who had been defeated by a young man who never knew what
+political life meant till he came to this campaign?  You think they would
+find you a seat?  I know you are coming to the end of your game, and when
+he defeats you, it will finish everything for you.  You will disappear
+from public life, and your day will be done.  Men will point at you as
+you pass along the street, and say: 'There goes Barode Barouche.  He was
+a great man in his day.  He was defeated by a boy with a painter's brush
+in his hand.'  He will take from you your livelihood.  You will go, and
+he will stay; he will conquer and grow strong.  Go from me, Barode
+Barouche," she cried, thrusting out her hands against him, "go from me.
+I love my son with all my soul.  His father has no place in my heart."
+
+There had been upon him the wild passion of revenge.  It had mastered
+him before she spoke, and while she spoke, but, as she finished, the
+understanding spirit of him conquered.  Instead of telling her of Luzanne
+Larue, and of what he would do if he found things going against him,
+instead of that he resolved to say naught.  He saw he could not conquer
+her.  For a minute after she had ceased speaking, he watched her in
+silence, and in his eyes was a remorse which would never leave them.
+She was master.
+
+Slowly, and with a sense of defeat, he said to her: "Well, we shall never
+meet again like this.  The fight goes on.  I will defeat Carnac.  No, do
+not shake your head.  He shall not put me from my place.  For you and me
+there is no future--none; yet I want to say to you before we part for
+ever now, that you have been deeper in my life than any other woman
+since I was born."
+
+He said no more.  Catching up his hat from the chair, and taking his
+stick, he left the room.  He opened the front door, stepped out, shut it
+behind him and, in a moment, was lost in the night.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+POINT TO POINT
+
+While these things were happening, Carnac was spending all his time in
+the constituency.  Every day was busy to the last minute, every hole in
+the belt of his equipment was buckled tight.  In spite of his enthusiasm
+he was, however, troubled by the fact that Luzanne might appear.  Yet as
+time went on he gained confidence.  There were days, however, when he
+appeared, mentally, to be watching the street corners.
+
+One day at a public meeting he thought the sensation had come.  He had
+just finished his speech in reply to Barode Barouche--eloquent, eager,
+masterful.  Youth's aspirations, with a curious sympathy with the French
+Canadian people, had idealized his utterances.  When he finished there
+had been cheering, but in the quiet instant that followed the cheering,
+a habitant got up--a weird, wilful fellow who had a reputation for brag,
+yet who would not have hurt an enemy save in wild passion.
+
+"M'sieu' Carnac Grier," he said, "I'd like to put a question to you.
+You've been asking for our votes.  We're a family people, we Canucs, and
+we like to know where we're going.  Tell me, m'sieu', where's your
+woman?"
+
+Having asked the question, he remained standing.  "Where's your woman?"
+the habitant had asked.  Carnac's breath came quick and sharp.  There
+were many hundreds present, and a good number of them were foes.  Barode
+Barouche was on the same platform.
+
+Not only Carnac was stirred by the question, for Barouche, who had
+listened to his foe's speech with admiring anxiety, was startled.
+
+"Where's your woman?" was not a phrase to be asked anyhow, or anywhere.
+Barouche was glad of the incident.  Ready as he was to meet challenge, he
+presently realized that his son had a readiness equally potent.  He was
+even pleased to see the glint of a smile at the lips of the slim young
+politician, in whom there was more than his own commingling of
+temperament, wisdom, wantonness and raillery.
+
+After a moment, Carnac said: "Isn't that a leading question to an
+unmarried man?"
+
+Barouche laughed inwardly.  Surely it was the reply he himself would have
+made.  Carnac had showed himself a born politician.  The audience
+cheered, but the questioner remained standing.  He meant to ask another
+question.
+
+"Sit down--sit down, jackass!" shouted some of the more raucous of the
+crowd, but the man was stubborn.  He stretched out an arm towards Carnac.
+
+"Bien, look here, my son, you take my advice.  Pursue the primrose path
+into the meadows of matrimony."
+
+Again Carnac shrank, but his mind rallied courageously, and he said:
+"There are other people who want to ask questions, perhaps."  He turned
+to Barode Barouche.  "I don't suggest my opponent has planned this
+heckling, but he can see it does no good.  I'm not to be floored by
+catch-penny tricks.  I'm going to win.  I run straight.  I haven't been
+long enough in politics to learn how to deceive.  Let the accomplished
+professionals do that.  They know how."
+
+He waved a hand disdainfully at Barouche.  "Let them put forth all that's
+in them, I will remain; let them exert the last ounce of energy, I will
+prevail; let them use the thousand devices of elections, I will use no
+device, but rely upon my policy.  I want nothing except my chance in
+Parliament.  My highest ambition is to make good laws.  I am for the man
+who was the first settler on the St. Lawrence and this section of the
+continent--his history, his tradition, his honour and fame are in the
+history books of the world.  If I should live a hundred years, I should
+wish nothing better than the honour of having served the men whose
+forefathers served Frontenac, Cartier, La Salle and Maisonneuve, and all
+the splendid heroes of that ancient age.  What they have done is for all
+men to do.  They have kept the faith.  I am for the habitant, for the
+land of his faith and love, first and last and all the time."
+
+He sat down in a tumult of cheering.  Many present remarked that no two
+men they had ever heard spoke so much alike, and kept their attacks so
+free from personal things.
+
+There had been at this public meeting two intense supporters of Carnac,
+who waited for him at the exit from the main doorway.  They were Fabian's
+wife and Junia.
+
+Barode Barouche came out of the hall before Carnac.  His quick eye saw
+the two ladies, and he raised his broad-brimmed hat like a Stuart
+cavalier, and smiled.
+
+"Waiting for your champion, eh?" he asked with cynical friendliness.
+"Well, work hard, because that will soften his fall."  He leaned over, as
+it were confidentially, to them, while his friends craned their necks to
+hear what he said: "If I were you I'd prepare him.  He's beaten as sure
+as the sun shines."
+
+Junia was tempted to say what was in her mind, but her sister Sibyl, who
+resented Barouche's patronage, said:
+
+"There's an old adage about the slip 'twixt the cup and the lip, Monsieur
+Barouche.  He's young, and he's got a better policy than yours."
+
+"And he's unmarried, eh!" Barouche remarked.  "He's unmarried, and I
+suppose that matters!"  There was an undercurrent of meaning in his voice
+which did not escape Junia.
+
+"And Monsieur Barouche is also unmarried," she remarked.  "So you're even
+there."
+
+"Not quite even.  I'm a widower.  The women don't work for me as they
+work for him."
+
+"I don't understand," remarked Junia.  "The women can't all marry him."
+
+"There are a lot of things that can't be understood by just blinking the
+eyes, but there's romance in the fight of an unmarried man, and women
+like romance even if it's some one else's.  There's sensation in it."
+
+Barouche looked to where Carnac was slowly coming down the centre of the
+hall.  Women were waving handkerchiefs and throwing kisses towards him.
+One little girl was pushed in front of him, and she reached out a hand in
+which was a wild rose.
+
+"That's for luck, m'sieu'," she said.
+
+Carnac took the rose, and placed it in his buttonhole; then, stooping
+down, he kissed the child's cheek.  Outside the hall, Barode Barouche
+winked an eye knowingly.  "He's got it all down to a science.  Look at
+him--kissing the young chick.  Nevertheless, he's walking into an abyss."
+
+Carnac was near enough now for the confidence in his face to be seen.
+Barouche's eyes suddenly grew resentful.  Sometimes he had a feeling of
+deep affection for his young challenger; sometimes there was a storm of
+anger in his bosom, a hatred which can be felt only for a member of one's
+own family.  Resentment showed in his face now.  This boy was winning
+friends on every side.
+
+Something in the two men, some vibration of temperament, struck the same
+chord in Junia's life and being.  She had noticed similar gestures,
+similar intonations of voice, and, above all else, a little toss of the
+head backwards.  She knew they were not related, and so she put the whole
+thing down to Carnac's impressionable nature which led its owner into
+singular imitations.  It had done so in the field of Art.  He was young
+enough to be the imitator without loss to himself.
+
+"I'm doing my best to defeat you," she said to Barouche, reaching out a
+hand for good-bye, "and I shall work harder now than ever.  You're so
+sure you're going to win that I'd disappoint you, monsieur--only to do
+you good."
+
+"Ah, I'm sorry you haven't any real interest in Carnac Grier, if it's
+only to do me good!  Well, goodbye--good-bye," he added, raising his hat,
+and presently was gone.
+
+As Carnac drew near, Fabian's wife stepped forward.  "Carnac," she said,
+"I hope you'll come with us on the river in Fabian's steam-launch.
+There's work to do there.  It's pay-day in the lumber-yards on the
+Island, so please come.  Will you?"
+
+Carnac laughed.  "Yes, there's no engagement to prevent it."  He thanked
+Junia and Sibyl for all they had done for him, and added: "I'd like a
+couple of hours among the rivermen.  Where's the boat?"  Fabian's wife
+told him, and added: "I've got the roan team here, and you can drive us
+down, if you will."
+
+A few moments afterwards, with the cheers of the crowd behind them, they
+were being driven by Carnac to the wharf where lay the "Fleur-de-lis."
+On board was Fabian.
+
+"Had a good meeting, Carnac?" Fabian asked.
+
+"I should call it first-class.  It was like a storm, at sea-wind from one
+direction, then from another, but I think on the whole we had the best of
+it.  Don't you think so?" he added to Fabian's wife.
+
+"Oh, much the best," she answered.  "That's so, Junia, isn't it?"
+
+"I wouldn't say so positively," answered Junia.  "I don't understand
+Monsieur Barouche.  He talked as if he had something up his sleeve."
+Her face became clouded.  "Have you any idea what it is, Carnac?"
+
+Carnac laughingly shook his head.  "That's his way.  He's always
+bluffing.  He does it to make believe the game's his, and to destroy my
+confidence.  He's a man of mark, but he's having the biggest fight he
+ever had--of that I'm sure.  .  .  .  Do you think I'll win?" he asked
+Junia presently with a laugh, as they made their way down the river.
+"Have I conquest in my eye?"
+
+How seldom did Junia have Carnac to herself in these days!  How kind of
+Fabian to lend his yacht for the purpose of canvassing!  But Sibyl had in
+her mind a deeper thing--she had become a match-maker.  She and Fabian,
+when the boat left the shore, went to one corner of the stern, leaving
+Carnac and Junia in the bow.
+
+Three miles below the city was the Island on which many voters were
+working in a saw-mill and lumberyard.  It had supporters of Barouche
+chiefly in the yards and mills.  Carnac had never visited it, and it was
+Junia's view that he should ingratiate himself with the workers, a rough-
+and-ready lot.  They were ready to "burst a meeting" or bludgeon a
+candidate on occasion.
+
+When Carnac asked his question Junia smiled up at him.  "Yes, I think
+you'll win, Carnac.  You have the tide with you."  Presently she added:
+"I'm not sure that you've got all the cards, though--I don't know why,
+but I have that fear."
+
+"You think that--"
+
+She nodded.  "I think Monsieur Barouche has some cards he hasn't played
+yet.  What they are I don't know, but he's confident.  Tell me, Carnac,
+is there any card that would defeat you?  Have you committed any crime
+against the law--no, I'm sure you haven't, but I want to hear you say
+so."  She smiled cheerfully at him.
+
+"He has no card of any crime of mine, and he can't hit me in a mortal
+place."
+
+"You have the right policy for this province.  But tell me, is there
+anyone who could hurt you, who could spring up in the fight--man or
+woman?"
+
+She looked him straight in the eye, and his own did not waver.
+
+"There's no one has a knock-out blow for me--that's sure.  I can weather
+any storm."
+
+He paused, however, disconcerted, for the memory of Luzanne came to him,
+and his spirit became clouded.  "Except one--except one," he added.
+
+"And you won't tell me who it is?"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+THE MAN WHO WOULD NOT
+
+"No, I can't tell you--yet," answered Carnac.  "You ought to know; though
+you can't put things right."
+
+"Don't forget you are a public man, and what might happen if things went
+wrong.  There are those who would gladly roast you on a gridiron for what
+you are in politics."
+
+"I never forget it.  I've no crime to repent of, and I'm afraid of
+nothing in the last resort.  Look, we're nearing the Island."
+
+"It's your worst place in the constituency, and I'm not sure of your
+reception.  Oh, but yes, I am," she added hastily.  "You always win good
+feeling.  No one really hates you.  You're on the way to big success."
+
+"I've had some unexpected luck.  I've got Tarboe on my side.  He's a
+member of Barouche's party, but he's coming with me."
+
+"Did he tell you so?" she asked with apparent interest.
+
+"I've had a letter from him, and in it he says he is with me 'to the
+knife!'  That's good.  Tarboe has a big hold on rivermen, and he may
+carry with him some of the opposition.  It was a good letter--if
+puzzling."
+
+"How, puzzling?"
+
+"He said in one part of it: 'When you come back here to play your part
+you'll make it a success, the whole blessed thing.'  I've no idea what he
+meant by that.  I don't think he wants me as a partner, and I'll give him
+no chance of it.  I don't want now what I could have had when Fabian
+left.  That's all over, Junia."
+
+"He meant something by it; he's a very able man," she replied gravely.
+"He's a huge success."
+
+"And women love success more than all else," he remarked a little
+cynically.
+
+"You're unjust, Carnac.  Of course, women love success; but they'd not
+sell their souls for it--not the real women--and you ought to know it."
+
+"I ought to know it, I suppose," he answered, and he held her eyes
+meaningly.  He was about to say something vital, but Fabian and his wife
+came.
+
+Fabian said to him: "Don't be surprised if you get a bad reception here,
+Carnac.  It's the worst place on the river, and I've no influence over
+the men--I don't believe Tarboe could have.  They're a difficult lot.
+There's Eugene Grandois, he's as bad as they make 'em.  He's got a grudge
+against us because of some act of father, and he may break out any time.
+He's a labour leader too, and we must be vigilant."
+
+Carnac nodded.  He made no reply in words.  They were nearing the little
+dock, and men were coming to the point where the launch would stop.
+
+"There's Grandois now!" said Fabian with a wry smile, for he had a
+real fear of results.  He had, however, no idea how skilfully Carnac
+would handle the situation--yet he had heard much of his brother's
+adaptability.  He had no psychological sense, and Carnac had big
+endowment of it.  Yet Carnac was not demonstrative.  It was his quiet
+way that played his game for him.  He never spoke, if being could do what
+he wanted.  He had the sense of physical speech with out words.  He was a
+bold adventurer, but his methods were those of the subtlest.  If a motion
+of the hand was sufficient, then let it go at that.
+
+"You people after our votes never come any other time," sneeringly said
+Eugene Grandois, as Carnac and Fabian landed.  "It's only when you want
+to use us."
+
+"Would you rather I didn't come at all?" asked Carnac with a friendly
+smile.  "You can't have it both ways.  If I came here any other time
+you'd want to know why I didn't stay away, and I come now because it's
+good you should know if I'm fit to represent you in Parliament."
+
+"There's sense, my bonny boy," said an English-Canadian labourer standing
+near.  "What you got to say to that, little skeezicks?" he added
+teasingly to Eugene Grandois.
+
+"He ain't got more gifts than his father had, and we all know what he
+was--that's so, bagosh!" remarked Grandois viciously.
+
+"Well, what sort of a man was he?" asked Carnac cooly, with a warning
+glance at Fabian, who was resentful.  Indeed, Fabian would have struck
+the man if his brother had not been present, and then been torn to pieces
+himself.
+
+"What sort--don't you know the kind of things he done?  If you don't, I
+do, and there's lots of others know, and don't you forget it, mon vieux."
+
+"That's no answer, Monsieur Grandois--none at all.  It tells nothing,"
+remarked Carnac cheerily.
+
+"You got left out of his will, m'sieu', you talk as if he was all right
+--that's blither."
+
+"My father had a conscience.  He gave me chance to become a partner in
+the business, and I wouldn't, and he threw me over--what else was there
+to do?  I could have owned the business to-day, if I'd played the game as
+he thought it ought to be played.  I didn't, and he left me out--that's
+all."
+
+"Makin' your own way, ain't you?" said the English labourer.  "That's
+hit you where you're tender, Grandois.  What you got to say to that?"
+
+The intense black eyes of the habitant sparkled wickedly, his jaws set
+with passion, and his sturdy frame seemed to fasten to the ground.  His
+gnarled hands now shot out fiercely.
+
+"What I got to say!  Only this: John Grier played the devil's part.  He
+turned me and my family out into the streets in winter-time, and the law
+upheld him, old beast that he was--sacre diable!"
+
+"Beast-devil!  Grandois, those are hard words about a man in his son's
+presence, and they're not true.  You think you can say such things
+because I'm standing for Parliament.  Beast, devil, eh?  You've got a
+free tongue, Grandois; you forgot to say that my father paid the doctor's
+bill for your whole family when they were taken down with smallpox; and
+he kept them for weeks afterwards.  You forgot to recall that when he
+turned you out for being six months behind with your rent and making no
+effort to pay up!  Who was the devil and beast then, Grandois?  Who spat
+upon his own wife and children then?  You haven't a good memory.  .  .  .
+Come, I think your account with my father is squared; and I want you to
+vote to put my father's son in Parliament, and to put out Barode
+Barouche, who's been there too long.  Come, come, Grandois, isn't it a
+bargain?  Your tongue's sharp, but your heart's in the right place--is it
+a bargain?"
+
+He held out his hand with applause from the crowd, but Grandois was not
+to be softened.  His anger, however, had behind it some sense of caution,
+and what Carnac said about the smallpox incident struck him hard.  It was
+the first time he had ever been hit between the eyes where John Grier was
+concerned.  His prestige with the men was now under a shadow, yet he
+dared not deny the truth of the statement.  It could be proved.  His
+braggart hatred of John Grier had come home to roost.  Carnac saw that,
+and he was glad he had challenged the man.  He believed that in politics,
+as in all other departments of life, candour and bold play were best in
+the long run.  Yet he would like to see the man in a different humour,
+and with joy he heard Junia say to Grandois.
+
+"How is the baby boy, and how is madame, Monsieur Grandois?"
+
+It came at the right moment, for only two days before had Madame Grandois
+given her husband the boy for which he had longed.  Junia had come to
+know of it through a neighbour and had sent jellies to the sick woman.
+As she came forward now, Grandois, taken aback, said:
+
+"Alors, they're all right, ma'm'selle, thank you.  It was you sent the
+jellies, eh?"
+
+She nodded with a smile.  "Yes, I sent them, Grandois.  May I come and
+see madame and the boy to-morrow?"
+
+The incident had taken a favourable turn.
+
+"It's about even-things between us, Grandois?" asked Carnac, and held
+out his hand.  "My father hit you, but you hit him harder by forgetting
+about the smallpox and the rent, and also by drinking up the cash that
+ought to have paid the rent.  It doesn't matter now that the rent was
+never paid, but it does that you recall the smallpox debt.  Can't you say
+a word for me, Grandois?  You're a big man here among all the workers.
+I'm a better Frenchman than the man I'm trying to turn out.  Just a word
+for a good cause.
+
+"They're waiting for you, and your hand on it!  Here's a place for you on
+the roost.  Come up."
+
+The "roost" was an upturned tub lying face down on the ground, and in
+the passion of the moment, the little man gripped Carnac's hand and stood
+on the tub to great cheering; for if there was one thing the French-
+Canadians love, it is sensation, and they were having it.  They were
+mostly Barouche's men, but they were emotional, and melodrama had stirred
+their feelings.
+
+Besides, like the Irish, they had a love of feminine nature, and in all
+the river-coves Junia was known by sight at least, and was admired.  She
+had the freshness of face and mind which is the heart of success with the
+habitants.  With Eugene Grandois on his feet, she heard a speech which
+had in it the best spirit of Gallic eloquence, though it was crude.  But
+it was forcible and adroit.
+
+"Friends and comrades," said Eugene Grandois, with his hands playing
+loosely, "there's been misunderstandings between me and the Grier family,
+and I was out against it, but I see things different since M'sieu' Carnac
+has spoke--and I'm changing my mind--certainlee.  That throwing out of my
+house hit me and my woman and little ones hard, and I've been resentin'
+it all these years till now; but I'm weighin' one thing agin another, and
+I'm willing to forget my wrongs for this young man's sake.  He's for us
+French.  Alors, some of you was out to hurt our friend M'sieu' Carnac
+here, and I didn't say no to it; but you'd better keep your weapons for
+election day and use them agin Barode Barouche.
+
+"I got a change of heart.  I've laid my plate on the table with a prayer
+that I get it filled with good political doctrine, and I've promise that
+the food I'm to get is what's best for all of us.  M'sieu' Carnac Grier's
+got the right stuff in him, and I'm for him both hands up--both hands way
+up high, nom de pipe!"
+
+At that he raised both hands above his head with a loud cheer, and later
+Carnac Grier was carried to the launch in the arms of Eugene Grandois'
+friends.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+THE BLUE PAPER
+
+"Who are you, ma'm'selle?"
+
+It was in the house of Eugene Grandois that this question was asked of
+Junia.  She had followed the experience on the Island by a visit to
+Grandois' house, carrying delicacies for the sick wife.  Denzil had come
+with her, and was waiting in the street.
+
+She had almost ended her visit when the outer door opened and Luzanne
+Larue entered carrying a dish she placed on the table, eyeing Junia
+closely.  First they bowed to each other, and Junia gave a pleasant
+smile, but instantly she felt here was a factor in her own life--how,
+she could not tell.
+
+To Luzanne, the face of Junia had no familiar feature, and yet she felt
+here was one whose life's lines crossed her own.  So it was she presently
+said, "Who are you, ma'm'selle?" in a sharp voice.  As Junia did not
+reply at once, she put the question in another form: "What is your name,
+ma'm'selle?"
+
+"It is Junia Shale," said the other calmly, yet with heart beating hard.
+Somehow the question foreshadowed painful things, associated with Carnac.
+Her first glance at Luzanne showed the girl was well dressed, that she
+had a face of some beauty, that her eyes were full of glamour--black and
+bold, and, in a challenging way, beautiful.  It was a face and figure
+full of daring.  She was not French-Canadian; yet she was French; that
+was clear from her accent.  Yet the voice had an accent of crudity, and
+the plump whiteness of the skin and waving fulness of the hair gave the
+girl a look of an adventuress.  She was dressed in black with a white
+collar which, by contrast, seemed to heighten her unusual nature.
+
+At first Junia shuddered, for Luzanne's presence made her uneasy; yet the
+girl must have good qualities, for she had brought comforts to the sick
+woman, and indeed, within, madame had spoken of the "dear beautiful
+stranger."  That could be no other than this girl.  She became composed.
+Yet she had a feeling that between them was a situation needing all her
+resources.  About what?  She would soon know, and she gave her name at
+last slowly, keeping her eyes on those of Luzanne.
+
+At mention of the name, Luzanne's eyes took on prejudice and moroseness.
+The pupils enlarged, the lids half closed, the face grew sour.
+
+"Junia Shale--you are Junia Shale?"  The voice was bitter and resentful.
+
+Junia nodded, and in her smile was understanding and conflict, for she
+felt this girl to be her foe.
+
+"We must have a talk--that's sure," Luzanne said with decision.
+
+"Who are you?" asked Junia calmly.  "I am Luzanne Larue."
+
+"That makes me no wiser."
+
+"Hasn't Carnac Grier spoken of me?"
+
+Junia shook her head, and turned her face towards the door of Madame
+Grandois' room.  "Had we not better go somewhere else to talk, after
+you've seen Madame Grandois and the baby?" she asked with a smile, yet
+she felt she was about to face an alarming event.  "Madame Grandois has
+spoken pleasantly of you to me," Junia added, for tact was her prompt
+faculty.  "If you'd come where we could talk undisturbed--do you see?"
+
+Luzanne made no reply in words, but taking up the dish she went into the
+sick-room, and Junia heard her in short friendly speech with Madame
+Grandois.  Luzanne appeared again soon and spoke: "Now we can go where
+I'm boarding.  It's only three doors away, and we can be safe there.
+You'd like to talk with me--ah, yes, surelee!"
+
+Her eyes were combative and repellent, but Junia was not dismayed, and
+she said: "What shall we talk about?"
+
+"There's only one thing and one person to talk about, ma'm'selle."
+
+"I still don't know what you mean."
+
+"Aren't you engaged to Carnac Grier?  Don't you think you're going to
+marry him?  .  .  .  Don't you like to tell the truth, then?" she added.
+
+Junia raised her eyebrows.  "I'm not engaged to Carnac Grier, and he has
+never asked me to marry him--but what business is it of yours,
+ma'm'selle?"
+
+"Come and I'll tell you."  Luzanne moved towards the door.  They were
+speechless till they reached Luzanne's lodgings.
+
+"This is the house of Monsieur Marmette, an agent of Monsieur Barouche,"
+said Junia.  "I know it."
+
+"You'll know it better soon.  The agent of M'sieu' Barouche is a man of
+mark about here, and he'll be more marked soon--but yes!"
+
+"You think Monsieur Barouche will be elected, do you?" asked Junia, as
+they closed the door.
+
+"I know he will."
+
+"I've been working for Monsieur Grier, and that isn't my opinion."
+
+"I'm working for Barode Barouche, and I know the result."
+
+They were now in Luzanne's small room, and Junia noted that it had all
+the characteristics of a habitant dwelling--even to the crucifix at the
+head of the bed, and the picture of the French-Canadian Premier of the
+Dominion on the wall.  She also saw a rosary on a little hook beside the
+bed.
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"Because I am the wife of Carnac Grier, and I know what will happen to
+him.  .  .  .  You turn pale, ma'm'selle, but your colour isn't going to
+alter the truth.  I'm Carnac Grier's wife by the laws of New York State."
+
+"Does Monsieur Grier admit he is your husband?"
+
+"He must respect the law by which he married me."
+
+"I don't believe he was ever honestly married to you," declared Junia.
+"Has he ever lived with you--for a single day?"
+
+"What difference would that make?  I have the marriage certificate here."
+She touched her bosom.
+
+"I'd have thought you were Barode Barouche's wife by the way you act.
+Isn't it a wife's duty to help her husband--Shouldn't you be fighting
+against Barode Barouche?"
+
+"I mean to be recognized as Carnac Grier's wife--that's why I'm here."
+
+"Have you seen him since you've been here?  Have you told him how you're
+working against him?  Have you got the certificate with you?"
+
+"Of course.  I've got my head on like a piece of flesh and blood that
+belongs to me--bien sur."
+
+She suddenly drew from her breast a folded piece of blue paper.  "There
+it is, signed by Judge Grimshaw that married us, and there's the seal;
+and the whole thing can't be set aside.  Look at it, if you like,
+petite."
+
+She held it not far from Junia's face, and Junia could see that it was
+registration of a marriage of New York State.  She could have snatched
+the paper away, but she meant to conquer Luzanne's savage spirit.  "Well,
+how do you intend to defeat your husband?"
+
+"I mean to have the people asked from a platform if they've seen the wife
+of the candidate, and then a copy of the certificate will be read to all.
+What do you think will happen after that?"
+
+"It will have to be done to-night or to-morrow night," remarked Junia.
+
+"Because the election comes the day after to-morrow,--eh
+
+"Because of that.  And who will read the document?"
+
+"Who but the man he's trying to defeat?--tell me that."
+
+"You mean Barode Barouche?"
+
+"Who else?"
+
+"Has he agreed to do it?"
+
+Luzanne nodded.  "On the day--Carnac became a candidate."
+
+"And if Carnac Grier denies it?"
+
+"He won't deny it.  He never has.  He says he was drunk when the thing
+was done--mais, oui."
+
+"Is that all he says?"
+
+"No.  He says he didn't know it was a real marriage, and--" Luzanne then
+related Carnac's defence, and added: "Do you think anyone would believe
+him with the facts as they are?  Remember I'm French and he's English,
+and that marriage to a French girl is life and death; and this is a
+French province!"
+
+"And yet you are a Catholic and French, and were married by a Protestant
+judge."
+
+"That is my own affair, ma'm'selle."
+
+"It is not the thing to say to French-Canadians here.  What do you get
+out of it all?  If he is your husband, wouldn't it be better to have him
+successful than your defeated victim.  What will be yours if you defeat--"
+
+"Revenge--my rights--the law!" was the sharp rejoinder.
+
+Junia smiled.  "What is there in it all for you?  If the man I married
+did not love me, I'd use the law to be free.  What's the good of trying
+to destroy a husband who doesn't love you, who never loved you--never."
+
+"You don't know that," retorted Luzanne sharply.
+
+"Yes, I do.  He never loved you.  He never lived with you for a single
+day.  That's in the power of a doctor to prove.  If you are virtuous,
+then he has taken nothing; if you have given your all, and not to Carnac
+Grier, what will his mind be about you?  Is it money?  He has no money
+except what he earns.  His father left him nothing--not a dollar.  Why do
+you hate him so?  I've known him all my life, and I've never known him
+hurt man or animal.  When did he ever misuse you, or hurt you?  Did he
+ever treat you badly?  How did you come to know him?  Answer that."
+
+She paused and Luzanne flushed.  The first meeting!  Why, that was the
+day Carnac had saved her life, had taken her home safe from danger, and
+had begun a friendship with behind it only a desire to help her.  And how
+had she repaid the saviour of her life?  By tricking him into a marriage,
+and then by threatening him if he did not take her to his home. Truth is,
+down beneath her misconduct was a passion for the man which, not
+satisfied, became a passion to destroy him and his career.  It was a
+characteristic of her blood and breed.  It was a relic of ancient
+dishonour, inherited and searching; it was atavism and the incorrigible
+thing.  Beneath everything was her desire for the man, and the mood in
+which she had fought for him was the twist of a tortured spirit.  She
+was not so deliberate as her actions had indicated.  She had been under
+the malicious influence of her father and her father's friend.  She was
+like one possessed of a spirit that would not be deterred from its
+purpose.  Junia saw the impression she had made, and set it down to her
+last words.
+
+"Where did you first meet him?  What was the way of it?" she added.
+
+Suddenly Junia came forward and put her hands on Luzanne's shoulders.
+"I think you loved Carnac once, and perhaps you love him now, and are
+only trying to hurt him out of anger.  If you destroy him, you will
+repent of it--so soon!  I don't know what is behind these things you are
+doing, but you'll be sorry for it when it is too late.  Yes, I know you
+have loved Carnac, for I see all the signs--"
+
+"Do you love him then, ma'm'selle?" asked Luzanne exasperated.  "Do you
+love him?"
+
+"He has never asked me, and I have never told him that; and I don't know,
+but, if I did, I would move heaven and earth to help him, and if he
+didn't love me I'd help him just the same.  And so, I think, should you.
+If you ever loved him, then you ought to save him from evil.  Tell me,
+did Carnac ever do you a kind act, one that is worth while in your life?"
+
+For a moment Luzanne stood dismayed, then a new expression drove the dark
+light from her eyes.  It was as though she had found a new sense.
+
+"He saved my life the day we first met," she said at last under Junia's
+hypnotic influence.
+
+"And now you would strike him when he is trying to do the big thing.  You
+threaten to declare his marriage, in the face of those who can elect him
+to play a great part for his country."
+
+Junia saw the girl was in emotional turmoil, was obsessed by one idea,
+and she felt her task had vast difficulty.  That Carnac should have
+married the girl was incredible, that he had played an unworthy part
+seemed sure; yet it was in keeping with his past temperament.  The girl
+was the extreme contrast of himself, with dark--almost piercing-eyes, and
+a paleness which was physically constitutional--the joy of the artistic
+spirit.  It was the head of a tragedienne or a martyr, and the lean,
+rather beautiful body was eloquent of life.
+
+Presently Junia said: "To try to spoil him would be a crime against his
+country, and I shall tell him you are here."
+
+"He'll do nothing at all."  The French girl's words were suddenly biting,
+malicious and defiant.  The moment's softness she had felt was gone, and
+hardness returned.  "If he hasn't moved against me since he married me,
+he wouldn't dare do so now."
+
+"Why hasn't he moved?  Because you're a woman, and also he'd believe
+you'd repent of your conduct.  But I believe he will act sternly against
+you at once.  There is much at stake."
+
+"You want it for your own sake," said Luzanne sharply.  "You think he'd
+marry you if I gave him up."
+
+"Perhaps he'd ask me to marry him, if you weren't in the way, but I'd
+have my own mind about that, and knowing what you've told me--truth or
+lie--I'd weigh it all carefully.  Besides, he's not the only man.
+Doesn't that ever strike you?  Why try to hold him by a spurious bond
+when there are other men as good-looking, as clever?  Is your world so
+bare of men--no, I'm sure it isn't," she added, for she saw anger rising
+in the impulsive girl.  "There are many who'd want to marry you, and it's
+better to marry some one who loves you than to hold to one who doesn't
+love you at all.  Is it hate?  He saved your life--and that's how you
+came to know him first, and now you would destroy him!  He's a great man.
+He would not bend to his father's will, and so he was left without a sou
+of his father's money.  All because he has a conscience, and an
+independence worthy of the best that ever lived.  .  .  .  That's the
+soul of the man you are trying to hurt.  If you had a real soul, there
+wouldn't be even the thought of this crime.  Do you think he wouldn't
+loathe you, if you do this ghastly thing?  Would any real man endure it
+for an hour?  What do you expect to get but ugly revenge on a man who
+never gave anything except friendship?"
+
+"Friendship--friendship-yes, he gave that, but emotion too."
+
+"You think that real men marry women for whom they only have emotion.
+You think that he--Carnac Grier--would marry any woman on that basis?
+Come, ma'm'selle, the truth!  He didn't know he was being married, and
+when you told him it was a real marriage he left you at once.  You and
+yours tricked him--the man you'd never have known if he hadn't saved your
+life.  You thought that with your beauty--yes, you are beautiful--you'd
+conquer him, and that he'd give in, and become a real husband in a real
+home.  Come now, isn't that it?"
+
+The other did not reply.  Her face was alive with memories.  The lower
+things were flying from it, a spirit of womanhood was living in her--
+feebly, but truly, living.  She was now conscious of the insanity of her
+pursuit of Carnac.  For a few moments she stood silent, and then she said
+with agitation:
+
+"If I give this up"--she took from her breast the blue document--"he'd be
+safe in his election, and he'd marry you: is it not so, ma'm'selle?"
+
+"He'd be safe for his election, but he has never asked me to marry him,
+and there are others besides him.--She was thinking of Tarboe.  "Tell
+me," she added suddenly, "to whom have you told this thing in Montreal?
+Did you mean to challenge him yourself?"
+
+"I told it only to M'sieu' Barouche, and he said he would use it at the
+right moment--and the right moment has come," she added.  "He asked me
+for a copy of it last night, and I said I'd give it to him to-day.  It's
+because of him I've been here quiet all these weeks as Ma'm'selle Larue."
+
+"He is worse than you, mademoiselle, for he has known Carnac's family,
+and he has no excuse.  If a man can't win his fight fairly, he oughtn't
+to be in public life."
+
+After a few dark moments, with a sudden burst of feeling, Luzanne said:
+"Well, Carnac won't be out of public life through me!"
+
+She took the blue certificate from her breast and was about to tear it
+up, when Junia stopped her.
+
+"Don't do that," Junia said, "don't tear it up yet, give it to me.  I'll
+tear it up at the right moment.  Give it to me, my dear."
+
+She held out her hand, and the blue certificate was presently in her
+fingers.  She felt a sudden weakness in her knees, for it seemed she held
+the career of Carnac Grier, and it moved her as she had never been moved.
+
+With the yielding of the certificate, Luzanne seemed suddenly to lose
+self-control.  She sank on the bed beside the wall with a cry of
+distress.
+
+"Mon Dieu--oh, Mon Dieu!"  Then she sprang to her feet.  "Give it back,
+give it back tome," she cried, with frantic pain.  "It's all I have of
+him--it's all I have."
+
+"I won't give it back," declared Junia quietly.  "It's a man's career,
+and you must let it go.  It's the right thing to do.  Let it stand,
+mademoiselle."
+
+She fully realized the half-insane mind and purpose of the girl, and she
+wrapped her arms around the stricken figure.
+
+"See, my dear," she said, "it's no use.  You can't have it back.  Your
+soul is too big for that now.  You can be happy in the memory that you
+gave Carnac back his freedom."
+
+"But the record stands," said the girl helplessly.  "Tell the truth and
+have it removed.  You owe that to the man who saved your life.  Have it
+done at once at Shipton."
+
+"What will you do with the certificate?"  She glanced at Junia's bosom
+where the paper was hidden.  "I will give it to Carnac, and he can do
+what he likes with it."
+
+By now the tears were streaming down the face of Luzanne Larue, and hard
+as it was for Junia, she tried to comfort her, for the girl should be got
+away at once, and only friendliness could achieve that.  She would see
+Denzil--he was near by, waiting.
+
+There would be a train in two hours for New York and the girl must take
+it-she must.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+DENZIL TAKES A HAND IN THE GAME
+
+Barode Baruche was excited.  He had sure hope of defeating Carnac with
+the help of Luzanne Larue.  The woman had remained hidden since her
+coming, and the game was now in his hands.  On the night before the poll
+he could declare the thing, not easy to be forgiven by the French-
+Canadian public, which has a strong sense of domestic duty.  Carnac Grier
+was a Protestant, and that was bad, and if there was added an offence
+against domestic morality, he would be beaten at the polls as sure as the
+river ran.  He had seen Luzanne several times, and though he did not
+believe in her, he knew the marriage certificate was real.  He had no
+credence in Carnac's lack of honour, yet it was strange he had not fought
+his wife, if his case was a good one.
+
+Day by day he had felt Carnac's power growing, and he feared his triumph
+unless some sensation stopped it.  Well, he had at hand the sufficient
+sensation.  He would produce both the certificate of marriage and the
+French girl who was the legal wife of Carnac Grier.  That Luzanne was
+French helped greatly, for it would be used by Carnac's foes as an insult
+to French Canada, and his pulses throbbed as he thought of the possible
+turmoil in the constituency.
+
+Fortunately the girl was handsome, had ability, and spoke English with a
+French accent, and she was powerful for his purposes.  He was out to
+prevent his own son from driving himself into private life, and he would
+lose no trick in the game, if he could help it.
+
+Sentimental feeling--yes, he had it, but it did not prevent him from
+saving his own skin.  Carnac had come out against him, and he must hit as
+hard as he could.  It was not as though Carnac had been guilty of a real
+crime and was within the peril of the law.  His offence was a personal
+one, but it would need impossible defence at the moment of election.
+In any case, if Carnac was legally married, he should assume the
+responsibilities of married life; and if he had honest reason for not
+recognizing the marriage, he should stop the woman from pursuing him.
+If the case kept Carnac out of public life and himself in, then justice
+would be done; for it was monstrous that a veteran should be driven into
+obscurity by a boy.  In making his announcement he would be fighting his
+son as though he was a stranger and not of his own blood and bones.  He
+had no personal connection with Carnac in the people's minds.
+
+On the afternoon of the day that Junia had had her hour with Luzanne, he
+started for the house where Luzanne was lodging.  He could not travel the
+streets without being recognized, but it did not matter, for the house
+where the girl lodged was that of his sub agent, and he was safe in going
+to it.  He did not know, however, that Denzil had been told by Junia to
+watch the place and learn what he meant to do.
+
+Denzil had a popular respect of Barode Barouche as a Minister of the
+Crown; but he had a far greater love of Carnac.  He remained vigilant
+until after Junia and Luzanne had started in a cab for the railway-
+station.  They left near three-quarters of an hour before the train was
+to start for New York; and for the first quarter of an hour after they
+left, Denzil was in apprehension.
+
+Then he saw Barouche enter the street and go to the house of his sub-
+agent.  The house stood by itself, with windows open, and Denzil did
+not scruple to walk near it, and, if possible, listen.  Marmette, the
+subagent, would know of the incident between Junia and Luzanne; and
+he feared.  Barouche might start for the station, overtake Luzanne
+and prevent her leaving.  He drew close and kept his ears open.
+
+He was fortunate, he heard voices; Marmette was explaining to Barouche
+that Junia and Luzanne had gone to the station, as "Ma'm'selle" was bound
+for New York.  Marmette had sent word to M. Barouche by messenger, but
+the messenger had missed him.  Then he heard Barouche in anger say:
+
+"You fool--why did you let her leave!  It's my bread and butter--and
+yours too--that's at stake.  I wanted to use her against Grier.  She was
+my final weapon of attack.  How long ago did she leave?"  Marmette told
+him.
+
+Denzil saw Barode Barouche leave the house with grim concern and talking
+hard to Paul Marmette.  He knew the way they would go, so he fell behind
+a tree, and saw them start for the place where they could order a cab.
+Then he followed them.  Looking at his watch he saw that, if they got a
+cab, they would get to the station before the train started, and he
+wondered how he could retard Barouche.  A delay of three minutes would be
+enough, for it was a long way, and the distance could only be covered
+with good luck in the time.  Yet Denzil had hope, for his faith in Junia
+was great, and he felt sure she would do what she planned.  He had to
+trot along fast, because Barouche and Marmette were going hard, and he
+could not see his way to be of use yet.  He would give his right hand to
+help Carnac win against the danger Junia had suggested.  It could not be
+aught to Carnac's discredit, or Junia would not have tried to get the
+danger out of Montreal; he had seen Luzanne, and she might be deadly, if
+she had a good weapon!
+
+Presently, he saw Barouche and his agent stop at the door of a livery-
+stable, and were told that no cabs were available.  There were none in
+the street, and time was pressing.  Not far away, however, was a street
+with a tram-line, and this tram would take Barouche near the station from
+which Luzanne would start.  So Barouche made hard for this street and had
+reached it when a phaeton came along, and in it was one whom Barouche
+knew.  Barouche spoke to the occupant, and presently both men were
+admitted to the phaeton just as a tram-car came near.
+
+As the phaeton would make the distance to the station in less time than
+the car, this seemed the sensible thing to do, and Denzil's spirits fell.
+There remained enough time for Barouche to reach the station before the
+New York train started!  He got aboard the tram himself, and watched the
+phaeton moving quickly on ahead.  He saw the driver of the phaeton strike
+his horse with a whip, and the horse, suddenly breaking into a gallop,
+slipped and fell to the ground on the tramtrack.  A moment later the tram
+came to a stop behind the fallen horse, and Denzil saw the disturbed face
+of Barode Barouche looking for another trap--in any case, it would take
+three or four minutes to get the horse up and clear the track for the
+tram.  There was no carriage in sight--only a loaded butcher's cart,
+a road-cleaner, and a heavily loaded van.  These could be of no use to
+Barouche.
+
+In his corner, Denzil saw the play with anxious eyes.
+
+It was presently found that the horse had injured a leg in falling and
+could not be got to its feet, but had presently to be dragged from the
+tram-lines.  It had all taken near five minutes of the time before the
+train went, and, with despair, Barouche mounted the steps of the tram.
+He saw Denzil, and shrewdly suspected he was working in the interests of
+Carnac.  He came forward to Denzil.
+
+"You're a long way from home, little man," he said in a voice with an
+acid note.
+
+"About the same as you from home, m'sieu'," said Denzil.
+
+"I've got business everywhere in this town," remarked Barouche with
+sarcasm--"and you haven't, have you?  You're travelling privately, eh?"
+
+"I travel as m'sieu' travels, and on the same business," answered Denzil
+with a challenging smile.
+
+The look Barouche gave him then Denzil never forgot.  "I didn't know you
+were in politics, mon vieux!  What are you standing for?  When are you
+going to the polls--who are you fighting, eh?"
+
+"I'm fighting you, m'sieu', though I ain't in politics, and I'm going to
+the polls now," Denzil answered.  Denzil had gained in confidence as he
+saw the arrogance of Barode Barouche.  He spoke with more vigour than
+usual, and he felt his gorge rising, for here was a man trying to injure
+his political foe through a woman; and Denzil resented it.  He did not
+know the secret of Luzanne Larue, but he did realize there was conflict
+between Junia Shale and Barouche, and between Barouche and Carnac Grier,
+and that enlisted his cooperation.  By nature he was respectful; but the
+politician now was playing a dirty game, and he himself might fight
+without gloves, if needed.  That was why his eyes showed defiance at
+Barouche now.  He had said the thing which roused sharp anger in
+Barouche.  It told Barouche that Denzil knew where he was going and why.
+Anger shook him as he saw Denzil take out his watch.
+
+"The poll closes in three minutes, m'sieu'," Denzil added with a dry
+smile, for it was clear Barouche could not reach the station in time,
+if the train left promptly.  The swiftest horses could not get him there,
+and these were not the days of motor-cars.  Yet it was plain Barouche
+meant to stick to it, and he promptly said:
+
+"You haven't the right time, beetle.  The poll closes only when the train
+leaves, and your watch doesn't show that, so don't put on airs yet."
+
+"I'll put on airs if I've won, m'sieu'," Denzil answered quietly, for he
+saw people in the tram were trying to hear.
+
+Barouche had been recognized, and a murmur of cheering began, followed by
+a hum of disapproval, for Barouche had lost many friends since Carnac had
+come into the fray.  A few folk tried to engage Barouche in talk, but he
+responded casually; yet he smiled the smile which had done so much for
+him in public life, and the distance lessened to the station.  The tram
+did not go quite to the station, and as it stopped, the two men hurried
+to the doors.  As they did so, an engine gave a scream, and presently, as
+they reached the inside of the station, they saw passing out at the far
+end, the New York train.
+
+"She started five minutes late, but she did start," said Denzil, and
+there was malice in his smile.
+
+As he looked at his watch, he saw Junia passing out of a door into the
+street, but Barode Barouche did not see her--his eyes were fixed on the
+departing train.
+
+For a moment Barouche stood indecisive as to whether he should hire a
+locomotive and send some one after the train, and so get in touch with
+Luzanne in that way, or send her a telegram to the first station where
+the train would stop in its schedule; but presently he gave up both
+ideas.  As he turned towards the exit of the station, he saw Denzil, and
+he came forward.
+
+"I think you've won, mon petit chien," he said with vindictiveness, "but
+my poll comes to-morrow night, and I shall win."
+
+"No game is won till it's all played, m'sieu', and this innings is mine!"
+
+"I am fighting a bigger man than you, wasp," snarled Barouche.
+
+"As big as yourself and bigger, m'sieu'," said Denzil with a smile.
+
+There was that in his tone which made Barouche regard him closely.  He
+saw there was no real knowledge of the relationship of Carnac and himself
+in Denzil's eyes; but he held out his hand with imitation courtesy, as
+though to say good-bye.
+
+"Give me a love-clasp, spider," he said with a kind of sneer.  "I'd like
+your love as I travel to triumph."  A light of hatred came into Denzil's
+eyes.  "Beetledog--wasp--spider" he had been called by this big man--
+well, he should see that the wasp could give as good as it got.  His
+big gnarled hand enclosed the hand of Barode Barouche, then he suddenly
+closed on it tight.  He closed on it till he felt it crunching in his own
+and saw that the face of Barode Barouche was like that of one in a chair
+of torture.  He squeezed, till from Barouche's lips came a gasp of agony,
+and then he let go.
+
+"You've had my love-clasp, m'sieu'," Denzil said with meaning, "and when
+you want it again let me know.  It's what M'sieu' Carnac will do with you
+to-morrow night.  Only he'll not let go, as I did, before the blood
+comes.  Don't be hard on those under you, m'sieu'.  Remember wasps and
+spiders can sting in their own way, and that dogs can bite."
+
+"Little black beast," was the short reply, "I'll strip your hide for
+Hell's gridiron in good time."
+
+"Bien, m'sieu', but you'll be in hell waiting, for I'm going to bury you
+here where you call better men than yourself dogs and wasps and spiders
+and beetles.  And I'll not strip your 'hide,' either.  That's for lower
+men than me."
+
+A moment later they parted, Denzil to find Junia, and Barouche to prepare
+his speech for the evening.  Barouche pondered.  What should he do--
+should he challenge Carnac with his marriage with Luzanne Larue?  His
+heart was beating hard.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+THE CHALLENGE
+
+The day of the election came.  Never had feeling run higher, never had
+racial lines been so cut across.  Barode Barouche fought with vigour, but
+from the going of Luzanne Larue, there passed from him the confidence he
+had felt since the first day of Carnac's candidature.  He had had
+temptation to announce to those who heard him the night before the poll
+what Luzanne had told; but better wisdom guided him, to his subsequent
+content.  He had not played a scurvy trick on his son for his own
+personal advantage.  Indeed, when his meetings were all over, he was
+thankful for the disappearance of Luzanne.  At heart he was not all bad.
+A madness had been on him.  He, therefore, slept heavily from midnight
+till morning on the eve of the election, and began the day with the smile
+of one who abides the result with courage.
+
+Several times he came upon Carnac in the streets, and they saluted
+courteously; yet he saw the confidence of Carnac in his bearing.  Twice
+also he came upon Junia and he was startled by the look she gave him.  It
+was part of his punishment that Junia was the source of his undoing where
+Luzanne was concerned.  Junia knew about Luzanne; but if she condemned
+him now, what would she think if she knew that Carnac was his own son!
+
+"A devilish clever girl that," he said to himself.  "If he wins, it'll be
+due to her, and if he wins--no, he can't marry her, for he's already
+married; but he'll owe it all to her.  If he wins!  .  .  .  No, he shall
+not win; I've been in the game too long; I've served too many interests;
+I've played too big a part."
+
+It was then he met his agent, who said: "They're making strong play
+against us--the strongest since you began politics."
+
+"Strong enough to put us in danger?" inquired Barouche.  "You've been
+at the game here for thirty years, and I'd like to know what you think--
+quite honestly."
+
+His agent was disturbed.  "I think you're in danger; he has all your
+gifts, and he's as clever as Old Nick besides.  He's a man that'll make
+things hum, if he gets in."
+
+"If he gets in-you think .  .  . ?"
+
+"He has as good a chance as you, m'sieu'.  Here's a list of doubtful
+ones, and you'll see they're of consequence."
+
+"They are indeed," said Barouche, scanning the list.  "I'd no idea these
+would be doubtful."
+
+"Luke Tarboe's working like the devil for Carnac.  People believe in him.
+Half the men on that list were affected by Tarboe's turning over.  Tarboe
+is a master-man; he has fought like hell."
+
+"Nevertheless, I've been too long at it to miss it now," said the rueful
+member with a forced smile.  "I must win now, or my game is up."
+
+The agent nodded, but there was no certainty in his eye.  Feeling ran
+higher and higher, but there was no indication that Barouche's hopes were
+sure of fulfilment.  His face became paler as the day wore on, and his
+hands freer with those of his late constituents.  Yet he noticed that
+Carnac was still glib with his tongue and freer with his hands.  Carnac
+seemed everywhere, on every corner, in every street, at every polling
+booth; he laid his trowel against every brick in the wall.  Carnac was
+not as confident as he seemed, but he was nearing the end of the trail;
+and his feet were free and his head clear.  One good thing had happened.
+The girl who could do him great harm was not in evidence, and it was too
+late to spoil his chances now, even if she came.  What gave him greatest
+hope was the look on Junia's face as he passed her.  It was the sign of
+the conqueror--something he could not under stand.  It was knowledge and
+victory.
+
+Also, he had a new feeling towards Tarboe, who had given him such
+powerful support.  There was, then, in the man the bigger thing, the
+light of fairness and reason!  He had had no talk with Tarboe, and he
+desired none, but he had seen him at three of his meetings, and he had
+evidence of arduous effort on his behalf.  Tarboe had influenced many
+people in his favour, men of standing and repute, and the workmen of
+the Grier firm had come, or were coming, his way.  He had always been
+popular with them, in spite of the strike he had fought, but they voted
+independently of their employers; and he was glad to know that most of
+them were with him in the fight.
+
+His triumph over Eugene Grandois at the Island had been a good influence,
+and he had hopes of capturing the majority of the river people.  Yet,
+strange to say, the Church had somewhat reversed its position, and at the
+last had swung round to Barouche, quietly, though not from the pulpit,
+supporting him.  The old prejudice in favour of a Catholic and a
+Frenchman was alive again.
+
+Carnac was keyed to anxiety, but outwardly seemed moving with brilliant
+certainty.  He walked on air, and he spoke and acted like one who had the
+key of the situation in his fingers, and the button of decision at his
+will.  It was folly electioneering on the day of the poll, and yet he saw
+a few labour leaders and moved them to greater work for him.  One of
+these told him that at the Grier big-mill was one man working to defeat
+him by personal attacks.  It had something to do with a so-called secret
+marriage, and it would be good to get hold of the man, Roudin, as soon as
+possible.
+
+A secret marriage!  So the thing had, after all, been bruited and used-
+what was the source of the information?  Who was responsible?  He must go
+to the mill at once, and he started for it.  On the way he met Luke
+Tarboe.
+
+"There's trouble down at the mill," Tarboe said.  "A fellow called Roudin
+has been spreading a story that you're married and repudiate your wife.
+It'd be good to fight it now before it gets going.  There's no truth in
+it, of course," he added with an opposite look in his eye, for he
+remembered the letter Carnac received one day in the office and his own
+conclusion then.
+
+"It's a lie, and I'll go and see Roudin at once.  .  .  .  You've been a
+good friend to me in the fight, Tarboe, and I'd like a talk when it's all
+over."
+
+"That'll be easy enough, Grier.  Don't make any mistake-this is a big
+thing you're doing; and if a Protestant Britisher can beat a Catholic
+Frenchman in his own habitant seat, it's the clinching of Confederation.
+We'll talk it over when you've won."
+
+"You think I'm going to win?" asked Carnac with thumping heart, for the
+stark uncertainty seemed to overpower him, though he smiled.
+
+"If the lie doesn't get going too hard, I'm sure you'll pull it off.
+There's my hand on it.  I'd go down with you to the mill, but you should
+go alone.  You've got your own medicine to give.  Go it alone, Grier.
+It's best--and good luck to you!"
+
+A few moments later Carnac was in the yard of the mill, and in one corner
+he saw the man he took to be Roudin talking to a group of workmen.  He
+hurried over, and heard Roudin declaring that he, Carnac, was secretly
+married to a woman whom he repudiated, and was that the kind of man to
+have as member of Parliament?  Presently Roudin was interrupted by cheers
+from supporters of Carnac, and he saw it was due to Carnac's arrival.
+Roudin had courage.  He would not say behind a man's back what he would
+not say to his face.
+
+"I was just telling my friends here, m'sieu', that you was married, and
+you didn't acknowledge your wife.  Is that so?"
+
+Carnac's first impulse was to say No, but he gained time by challenging.
+
+"Why do you say such things to injure me?  Is that what Monsieur Barouche
+tells you to say?"
+
+Roudin shook his head protestingly.
+
+"If Monsieur Barouche does that he oughtn't to hold the seat, he ought to
+be sent back to his law offices."
+
+"No, I didn't hear it from M'sieu' Barouche.  I get it from better hands
+than his," answered Roudin.
+
+"Better hands than his, eh?  From the lady herself, perhaps?"
+
+"Yes, from the lady herself, m'sieu'."
+
+"Then bring the lady here and let us have it out, monsieur.  It's a lie.
+Bring the lady here, if you know her."
+
+Roudin shrugged a shoulder.  "I know what I know, and I don't have to do
+what you say--no--no!"
+
+"Then you're not honest.  You do me harm by a story like that.  I
+challenge you, and you don't respond.  You say you know the woman, then
+produce her--there's no time to be lost.  The poll closes in four hours.
+If you make such statements, prove them.  It isn't playing the game--
+do you think so, messieurs?" he added to the crowd which had grown in
+numbers.  At that moment a man came running from the en trance towards
+Carnac.  It was Denzil.
+
+"A letter for you, an important letter," he kept crying as he came
+nearer.  He got the letter into Carnac's hands.
+
+"Read it at once, m'sieu'," Denzil said urgently.  Carnac saw the
+handwriting was Junia's, and he tore open the letter, which held the blue
+certificate of the marriage with Luzanne.  He conquered the sudden
+dimness of his eyes, and read the letter.  It said:
+
+     DEAR CARNAC,
+
+     I hear from Mr. Tarboe of the lies being told against you.  Here is
+     the proof.  She has gone.  She told it to Barode Barouche, and he
+     was to have announced it last night, but I saw her first.  You can
+     now deny the story.  The game is yours.  Tell the man Roudin to
+     produce the woman--she is now in New York, if the train was not
+     lost.  I will tell you all when you are M.P.
+                                                       JUNIA.
+
+With a smile, Carnac placed the certificate in his pocket.  How lucky it
+was he had denied the marriage and demanded that Roudin produce the
+woman!  He was safe now, safe and free.  It was no good any woman
+declaring she was married to him if she could not produce the proof
+--and the proof was in his pocket and the woman was in New York.
+
+"Come, Monsieur Roudin, tell us about the woman, and bring her to the
+polls.  There is yet time, if you're telling the truth.  Who is she?
+Where does she live?  What's her name?"
+
+"Mrs. Carnac Grier--that's her name," responded Roudin with a snarl, and
+the crowd laughed, for Carnac's boldness gave them a sense of security.
+
+"What was her maiden name?"
+
+"Larue," answered the other sharply.
+
+"What was her Christian name, since you know so much, monsieur?"
+
+He had no fear now, and his question was audacity, but he knew the game
+was with him, and he took the risks.  His courage had reward, for Roudin
+made no reply.  Carnac turned to the crowd.
+
+"Here's a man tried to ruin my character by telling a story about a woman
+whose name he doesn't know.  Is that playing the game after the rules--
+I ask you?"
+
+There were cries from the crowd supporting him, and he grew bolder.
+"Let the man tell his story and I'll meet it here face to face.  I fear
+nothing.  Out with your story, monsieur.  Tell us why you haven't brought
+her into the daylight, why she isn't claiming her husband at the polls.
+What's the story?  Let's have it now."
+
+The truth was, Roudin dared not tell what he knew.  It was based wholly
+on a talk he had partly overheard between Barode Barouche and Luzanne in
+the house where she stayed and where he, Roudin, lodged.  It had not been
+definite, and he had no proofs.  He was a sensationalist, and he had had
+his hour and could say no more, because of Barode Barouche.  He could not
+tell the story of his overhearing, for why had not Barouche told the
+tale?  With an oath he turned away and disappeared.  As he went he could
+hear his friends cheering Carnac.
+
+"Carnac Grier lies, but he wins the game," he said.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+EXIT
+
+"Grier's in--Carnac's in--Carnac's got the seat!"  This was the cry heard
+in the streets at ten-thirty at night when Carnac was found elected by a
+majority of one hundred and ten.
+
+Carnac had not been present at the counting of the votes until the last
+quarter-hour, and then he was told by his friends of the fluctuations of
+the counting--how at one time his defeat seemed assured, since Barode
+Barouche was six hundred ahead, and his own friends had almost given up
+hope.  One of his foes, however, had no assurance of Carnac's defeat.  He
+was too old an agent to believe in returns till all were in, and he knew
+of the two incidents by which Carnac had got advantage--at the Island
+over Eugene Grandois, and at the Mill over Roudin the very day of
+polling; and it was at these points he had hoped to score for Barouche
+a majority.  He watched Barouche, and he deplored the triumph in his eye,
+for there was no surety of winning; his own was the scientific mind
+without emotions or passions.  He did not "enthuse," and he did not
+despair; he kept his head.
+
+Presently there were fluctuations in favour of Carnac, and the six
+hundred by which Barouche led were steadily swallowed up; he saw that
+among the places which gave Carnac a majority were the Island and the
+Mill.  He was also nonplussed by Carnac's coolness.  For a man with an
+artist's temperament, he was well controlled.  When he came into the
+room, he went straight to Barouche and shook hands with him, saying
+they'd soon offer congratulations to the winner.  As the meeting took
+place the agent did not fail to note how alike in build and manner were
+the two men, how similar were their gestures.
+
+When at last the Returning Officer announced the result, the agent dared
+not glance at his defeated chief.  Yet he saw him go to Carnac and offer
+a hand.
+
+"We've had a straight fight, Grier, and I hope you'll have luck in
+Parliament.  This is no place for me.  It's your game, and I'll eat my
+sour bread alone."
+
+He motioned to the window with a balcony, beyond which were the shouting
+thousands.  Then he smiled at Carnac, and in his heart he was glad he had
+not used the facts about Luzanne before the public.  The boy's face was
+so glowing that his own youth came back, and a better spirit took
+residence in him.  He gave thanks to the Returning Officer, and then,
+with his agent, left the building by the back door.  He did not wait for
+the announcement of Carnac's triumph, and he knew his work was done for
+ever in public life.
+
+Soon he had said his say at the club where his supporters, discomfited,
+awaited him.  To demands for a speech, he said he owed to his workers
+what he could never repay, and that the long years they had kept him in
+Parliament would be the happiest memory of his life.
+
+"We'll soon have you back," shouted a voice from the crowd.
+
+"It's been a good fight," said Barode Barouche.  Somehow the fact he had
+not beaten his son by the story of his secret marriage was the sole
+comfort he had.  He advised his followers to "play the game" and let the
+new member have his triumph without belittlement.
+
+"It's the best fight I've had in thirty years," he said at last, "and
+I've been beaten fairly."
+
+In another hour he was driving into the country on his way to visit an
+old ex-Cabinet Minister, who had been his friend through all the years
+of his Parliamentary life.  It did not matter that the hour was late.
+He knew the veteran would be waiting for him, and unprepared for the bad
+news he brought.  The night was spent in pain of mind, and the comfort
+the ex-Minister gave him, that a seat would be found for him by the
+Government, gave him no thrill.  He knew he had enemies in the
+Government, that the Prime Minister was the friend of the successful
+only, and that there were others, glad of his defeat, who would be
+looking for his place.  Also he was sure he had injured the chances
+of the Government by the defeat of his policy.
+
+As though Creation was in league against him, a heavy storm broke about
+two o'clock, and he went to bed cursed by torturing thoughts.  "Chickens
+come home to roost--"  Why did that ancient phrase keep ringing in his
+ears when he tried to sleep?  Beaten by his illegitimate son at the
+polls, the victim of his own wrong-doing--the sacrifice of penalty!
+He knew that his son, inheriting his own political gifts, had done what
+could have been done by no one else.  All the years passed since Carnac
+was begotten laid their deathly hands upon him, and he knew he could
+never recover from this defeat.  How much better it would have been if he
+had been struck twenty-seven years ago!
+
+Youth, ambition and resolve would have saved him from the worst then.
+Age has its powers, but it has its defects, and he had no hope that his
+own defects would be wiped out by luck at the polls.  Spirit was gone out
+of him, longing for the future had no place in his mind; in the world of
+public work he was dead and buried.  How little he had got from all his
+life!  How few friends he had, and how few he was entitled to have!  This
+is one of the punishments that selfishness and wrong-doing brings; it
+gives no insurance for the hours of defeat and loss.  Well, wealth and
+power, the friends so needed in dark days, had not been made, and Barode
+Barouche realized he had naught left.  He had been too successful from
+the start; he had had all his own way; and he had taken no pains to make
+or keep friends.  He well knew there was no man in the Cabinet or among
+his colleagues that would stir to help him--he had stirred to help no man
+in all the years he had served the public.  It was no good only to serve
+the public, for democracy is a weak stick on which to lean.  One must
+stand by individuals or there is no defence against the malicious foes
+that follow the path of defeat, that ambush the way.  It is the personal
+friends made in one's own good days that watch the path and clear away
+the ambushers.  It is not big influential friends that are so important
+--the little unknown man may be as useful as the big boss in the mill of
+life; and if one stops to measure one's friends by their position, the
+end is no more sure than if one makes no friends at all.
+
+"There's nothing left for me in life--nothing at all," he said as he
+tossed in bed while the thunder roared and the storm beat down the
+shrubs.  "How futile life is--'Youth's a dream, middle age a delusion,
+old age a mistake!'" he kept repeating to himself in quotation.  "What
+does one get out of it?  Nothing--nothing--nothing!  It's all a poor show
+at the best, and yet--is it?  Is it all so bad?  Is it all so poor and
+gaunt and hopeless?  Isn't there anything in it for the man who gives and
+does his best?"
+
+Suddenly there came upon him the conviction that life is only futile to
+the futile, that it is only a failure to those who prove themselves
+incompetent, selfish and sordid; but to those who live life as it ought
+to be lived, there is no such thing as failure, or defeat, or penalty,
+or remorse or punishment.  Because the straight man has only good ends to
+serve, he has no failures; though he may have disappointments, he has no
+defeats; for the true secret of life is to be content with what is
+decreed, to earn bread and make store only as conscience directs, and not
+to set one's heart on material things.
+
+He got out of bed soon after daylight, dressed, and went to the stable
+and hitched his horse to the buggy.  The world was washed clean, that was
+sure.  It was muddy under foot, but it was a country where the roads soon
+dried, and he would suffer little inconvenience from the storm.  He bade
+his host good-bye and drove away intent to reach the city in time for
+breakfast.  He found the roads heavy, and the injury of the storm was
+everywhere to be seen.  Yet it all did not distract him, for he was
+thinking hard of the things that lay ahead of him to do--the heart-
+breaking things that his defeat meant to him.
+
+At last he approached a bridge across a stream which had been badly swept
+by the storm.  It was one of the covered bridges not uncommon in Canada.
+It was not long, as the river was narrow, and he did not see that the
+middle pier of the bridge had been badly injured.  Yet as he entered the
+bridge, his horse still trotting, he was conscious of a hollow, semi-
+thunderous noise which seemed not to belong to the horse's hoofs and the
+iron wheels of the carriage.  He raised his eyes to see that the other
+end of the bridge was clear, and at that moment he was conscious of an
+unsteady motion of the bridge, of a wavering of the roof, and then,
+before he had time to do aught, he saw the roof and the sides and the
+floor of the bridge collapse and sink slowly down.
+
+With a cry, he sprang from the carriage to retrace his way; but he only
+climbed up a ladder that grew every instant steeper; and all at once he
+was plunged downwards after his horse and carriage into the stream.  He
+could swim, and as he swept down this thought came to him--that he might
+be able to get the shore, as he heard the cries of people on the bank.
+It was a hope that died at the moment of its birth, however, for he was
+struck by a falling timber on the head.
+
+When, an hour later, he was found in an eddy of the river by the shore,
+he was dead, and his finders could only compose his limbs decently.  But
+in the afternoon, the papers of Montreal had the following head-lines;
+
+DEFEAT AND DEATH OF BARODE BAROUCHE THE END OF A LONG AND GREAT CAREER
+
+As soon as Carnac Grier heard the news, he sent a note to his mother
+telling her all he knew.  When she read the letter, she sank to the
+floor, overcome.  Her son had triumphed indeed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+A WOMAN WRITES A LETTER
+
+The whole country rang with the defeat and death of Barode Barouche,
+and the triumph of the disinherited son of John Grier.  Newspapers drew
+differing lessons from the event, but all admitted that Carnac, as a
+great fighter, was entitled to success.  The Press were friendly to the
+memory of Barode Barouche, and some unduly praised his work, and only a
+few disparaged his career.
+
+When news of the tragedy came to Mrs. Grier, she was reading in the
+papers of Carnac's victory, and in her mind was an agonizing triumph,
+pride in a stern blow struck for punishment.  The event was like none
+she could have imagined.
+
+It was at this moment the note came from Carnac telling of Barouche's
+death, and it dropped from her hand to the floor.  The horror of it smote
+her being, and, like one struck by lightning, she sank to the floor
+unconscious.  The thing had hit her where soul and body were closely
+knit; and she had realized for the first time how we all must pay to the
+last penny for every offence we commit against the laws of life and
+nature.  Barode Barouche had paid and she must pay--she also who had
+sinned with him must pay.  But had she not paid?
+
+For long she lay unconscious, but at last the servant, unknowing why she
+was not called to remove the breakfast things, found her huddled on the
+floor, her face like that of death.  The servant felt her heart, saw she
+was alive, and worked with her till consciousness came back.
+
+"That's right, ma'am, keep up heart.  I'll send for M'sieu' Carnac at
+once, and we'll have you all right pretty quick."
+
+But Mrs. Grier forbade Carnac to be sent for, and presently in her bed,
+declined to have the doctor brought.  "It's no use," she said.  "A doctor
+can do no good.  I need rest, that's all."
+
+Then she asked for notepaper and pen and ink, and so she was left alone.
+She must tell her beloved son why it was there never had been, and never
+could be, understanding between John Grier and himself.  She had arrived
+at that point where naught was to be gained by further concealment.  So
+through long hours she struggled with her problem, and she was glad
+Carnac did not come during the vexing day.  He had said when he sent her
+word of his victory, that he feared he would not be able to see her the
+next day at all, as he had so much to do.  She even declined to see Junia
+when she came, sending word that she was in bed, indisposed.
+
+The letter she wrote ran thus:
+
+     MY BELOVED CARNAC,
+
+     Your news of the death of Barode Barouche has shocked me.  You will
+     understand when I tell you I have lived a life of agony ever since
+     you became a candidate.  This is why: you were fighting the man who
+     gave you to the world.
+
+     Let me tell you how.  I loved John Grier when I married him, and
+     longed to make my life fit in with his.  But that could not easily
+     be, for his life was wedded to his business, and he did not believe
+     in women.  To him they were incapable of the real business of life,
+     and were only meant to be housekeepers to men who make the world go
+     round.  So, unintentionally, he neglected me, and I was young and
+     comely then, so the world said, and I was unwise and thoughtless.
+
+     Else, I should not have listened to Barode Barouche, who, one summer
+     in camp on the St. Lawrence River near our camp, opened up for me
+     new ways of thought, and springs of feeling.  He had the gifts that
+     have made you what you are, a figure that all turn twice to see.  He
+     had eloquence, he was thoughtful in all the little things which John
+     Grier despised.  In the solitude of the camp he wound himself about
+     my life, and roused an emotion for him false to duty.  And so one
+     day--one single day, for never but the once was I weak, yet that was
+     enough, God knows.  .  .  .  He went away because I would not see
+     him again; because I would not repeat the offence which gave me
+     years of sorrow and remorse.
+
+     After you became a candidate, he came and offered to marry me, tried
+     to reopen the old emotion; but I would have none of it.  He was
+     convinced he would defeat you, and he wanted to avoid fighting you.
+     But when I said, 'Give up the seat to him,' he froze.  Of course,
+     his seat belonged to his party and not alone to himself; but that
+     was the test I put him to, and the answer he gave was, 'You want me
+     to destroy my career in politics!  That is your proposal, is it?'
+     He was not honest either in life or conduct.  I don't think he ever
+     was sorry for me or for you, until perhaps these last few weeks; but
+     I have sorrowed ever since the day you came to me  very day, every
+     hour, every minute; and the more because I could not tell John Grier
+     the truth.
+
+     Perhaps I ought to have told the truth long ago, and faced the
+     consequences.  It might seem now that I would have ruined my home
+     life, and yours, and Barode Barouche's, and John Grier's life if I
+     had told the truth; but who knows!  There are many outcomes to
+     life's tragedies, and none might have been what I fancied.  It is
+     little comfort that Barode Barouche has now given all for payment of
+     his debt.  It gives no peace of mind.  And it may be you will think
+     I ought not to tell you the truth.  I don't know, but I feel you
+     will not misunderstand.  I tell you my story, so that you may again
+     consider if it is not better to face the world with the truth about
+     Luzanne.  We can live but once, and it is to our good if we refuse
+     the secret way.  It is right you should know the truth about your
+     birth, but it is not right you should declare it to all the world
+     now.  That was my duty long ago, and I did not do it.  It is not
+     your duty, and you must not do it.  Barode Barouche is gone; John
+     Grier has gone; and it would only hurt Fabian and his wife and you
+     to tell it now.  You inherit Barode Barouche's gifts, and you have
+     his seat, you represent his people--and they are your people too.
+     You have French blood in your veins, and you have a chance to carry
+     on with honour what he did with skill.  Forgive me, if you can.
+
+                              Your loving
+
+                                             MOTHER.
+
+     P.S.  Do nothing till you see me.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+CARNAC AND HIS MOTHER
+
+Returning from Barode Barouche's home to his mother's House on the Hill,
+Carnac was in a cheerless mood.  With Barouche's death to Carnac it was
+as though he himself had put aside for ever the armour of war, for
+Barouche was the only man in the world who had ever tempted him to fight,
+or whom he had fought.
+
+There was one thing he must do: he must go to Junia, tell her he loved
+her, and ask her to be his wife.  She had given him the fatal blue
+certificate of his marriage and the marriage could now be ended with
+Luzanne's consent, for she would not fight the divorce he must win soon.
+He could now tell the truth, if need be, to his constituents, for there
+would be time enough to recover his position, if it were endangered,
+before the next election came, and Junia would be by his side to help
+him!  Junia--would she, after all, marry him now?  He would soon know.
+To-night he must spend with his mother, but to-morrow he would see Junia
+and learn his fate, and know about Luzanne.  Luzanne had been in
+Montreal, had been ready to destroy his chance at the polls, and Junia
+had stopped it.  How?  Well, he should soon know.  But now, at first,
+for his mother.
+
+When he entered the House on the Hill, he had a sudden shiver.  Somehow,
+the room where his mother had sat for so many years, and where he had
+last seen his father, John Grier, had a coldness of the tomb.  There was
+a letter on the centre table standing against the lamp.  He saw it was in
+his mother's handwriting, and addressed to himself.
+
+He tore it open, and began to read.  Presently his cheeks turned pale.
+More than once he put it down, for it seemed impossible to go on, but
+with courage he took it up again and read on to the end.
+
+"God--God in Heaven!" he broke out when he had finished it.  For a long
+time he walked the floor, trembling in body and shaking in spirit.  "Now
+I understand everything," he said at last aloud in a husky tone.  "Now I
+see what I could not see--ah yes, I see at last!"
+
+For another time of silence and turmoil he paced the floor, then he
+stopped short.  "I'm glad they both are dead," he said wearily.  Thinking
+of Barode Barouche, he had a great bitterness.  "To treat any woman so--
+how glad I am I fought him!  He learned that such vile acts come home at
+last."
+
+Then he thought of John Grier.  "I loathed him and loved him always," he
+said with terrible remorse in his tone.  "He used my mother badly, and
+yet he was himself; he was the soul that he was born, a genius in his own
+way, a neglecter of all that makes life beautiful--and yet himself,
+always himself.  He never pottered.  He was real--a pirate, a plunderer,
+but he was real.  And he cared for me, and would have had me in the
+business if he could.  Perhaps John Grier knows the truth now!  .  .  .
+I hope he does.  For, if he does, he'll see that I was not to blame for
+what I did, that it was Fate behind me.  He was a big man, and if I'd
+worked with him, we'd have done big things, bigger than he did, and that
+was big enough."
+
+"Do nothing till you see me," his mother had written in a postscript to
+her letter, and, with a moroseness at his heart and scorn of Barouche at
+his lips, he went slowly up to his mother's room.  At her door he paused.
+But the woman was his mother, and it must be faced.  After all, she had
+kept faith ever since he was born.  He believed that.  She had been an
+honest wife ever since that fatal summer twenty-seven years before.
+
+"She has suffered," he said, and knocked at her door.  An instant later
+he was inside the room.  There was only a dim light, but his mother was
+sitting up in her bed, a gaunt and yet beautiful, sad-eyed figure of a
+woman.  For a moment Carnac paused.  As he stood motionless, the face of
+the woman became more drawn and haggard, the eyes more deeply mournful.
+Her lips opened as though she would speak, but no sound came, and Carnac
+could hardly bear to look at her.  Yet he did look, and all at once there
+rushed into his heart the love he had ever felt for her.  After all, he
+was her son, and she had not wronged him since his birth.  And he who had
+wronged her and himself was dead, his pathway closed for ever to the
+deeds of life and time.  As he looked, his eyes filled with tears and his
+lips compressed.  At last he came to the bed.  Her letter was in his
+hand.
+
+"I have read it, mother."
+
+She made no reply, but his face was good for her eyes to see.  It had no
+hatred or repulsion.
+
+"I know everything now," he added.  "I see it all, and I understand all
+you have suffered these many years."
+
+"Oh, my son, you forgive your mother?"  She was trembling with emotion.
+
+He leaned over and caught her wonderful head to his shoulder.  "I love
+you, mother," he said gently.  "I need you--need you more than I ever
+did."
+
+"I have no heart any more, and I fear for you--"
+
+"Why should you fear for me?  You wanted me to beat him, didn't you?"
+His face grew hard, his lips became scornful.  "Wasn't it the only way to
+make him settle his account?"
+
+"Yes, the only way.  It was not that I fear for you in politics.  I was
+sure you would win the election.  It was not that, it was the girl."
+
+"That's all finished.  I am free at last," he said.  He held the blue
+certificate before her eyes.
+
+Her face was deadly pale, her eyes expanded, her breath came sharp and
+quick.  "How was it don how was it done?  Was she here in Montreal?"
+
+"I don't know how it was done, but she was here, and Junia got this from
+her.  I shan't know how till I've seen Junia."
+
+"Junia is the best friend," said the stricken woman gently, "in all the
+world; she's--"
+
+"She's so good a friend she must be told the truth," he said firmly.
+
+"Oh, not while I live!  I could not bear that--"
+
+"How could I ask Junia to marry me and not tell her all the truth--
+mother, can't you see?"
+
+The woman's face flushed scarlet.  "Ah, yes, I see, my boy--I see."
+
+"Haven't we had enough of secrecy--in your letter you lamented it!  If it
+was right for you to be secret all these years, is it not a hundred times
+right now for me to tell you the truth.  .  .  .  I have no name--no
+name," he added, tragedy in his tone.
+
+"You have my name.  You may say I have no right to it, but it is the only
+name I can carry; they both are dead, and I must keep it.  It wrongs no
+one living but you, and you have no hatred of me: you think I do not
+wrong you--isn't that so?"
+
+His cheek was hot with feeling.  "Yes, that's true," he said.  "You must
+still keep your married name."  Then a great melancholy took hold of him,
+and he could hardly hide it from her.  She saw how he was moved, and she
+tried to comfort him.
+
+"You think Junia will resent it all?  .  .  .  But that isn't what a girl
+does when she loves.  You have done no wrong; your hands are clean."
+
+"But I must tell her all.  Tarboe is richer, he has an honest birth, he
+is a big man and will be bigger still.  She likes him, she--"
+
+"She will go to you without a penny, my son."
+
+"It will be almost without a penny, if you don't live," he said with a
+faint smile.  "I can't paint--for a time anyhow.  I can't earn money for
+a time.  I've only my salary as a Member of Parliament and the little
+that's left of my legacy; therefore, I must draw on you.  And I don't
+seem to mind drawing upon you; I never did."
+
+She smiled with an effort.  "If I can help you, I shall justify living
+on."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+TARBOE HAS A DREAM
+
+The day Carnac was elected it was clear to Tarboe that he must win Junia
+at once, if he was ever to do so, for Carnac's new honours would play a
+great part in influencing her.  In his mind, it was now or never for
+himself; he must bring affairs to a crisis.
+
+Junia's father was poor, but the girl had given their home an air of
+comfort and an art belonging to larger spheres.  The walls were covered
+with brown paper, and on it were a few of her own water-colour drawings,
+and a few old engravings of merit.  Chintz was the cover on windows and
+easy chairs, and in a corner of the parlour was a chintz-covered lounge
+where she read of an evening.  So it was that, with Carnac elected and
+Barode Barouche buried, she sat with one of Disraeli's novels in her hand
+busy with the future.  She saw for Carnac a safe career, for his two
+chief foes were gone--Luzanne Larue and Barode Barouche.  Now she
+understood why Carnac had never asked her to be his wife.  She had had no
+word with Carnac since his election--only a letter to thank her for the
+marriage certificate and to say that after M. Barouche was buried he
+would come to her, if he might.  He did say, however, in the letter that
+he owed her his election.
+
+"You've done a great, big thing for me, dearest friend, and I am your
+ever grateful Carnac"--that was the way he had put it.  Twice she had
+gone to visit his mother, and had been told that Mrs. Grier was too ill
+to see her--overstrain, the servant had said.  She could not understand
+being denied admittance; but it did not matter, for one day Mrs. Grier
+should know how she--Junia-had saved her son's career.
+
+So she thought, as she gazed before her into space from the chintz-
+covered lounge on the night of the day Barode Barouche was buried.  There
+was a smell of roses in the room.  She had gathered many of them that
+afternoon.  She caught a bud from a bunch on a table, and fastened it in
+the bosom of her dress.  Somehow, as she did it, she had a feeling she
+would like to clasp a man's head to her breast where the rose was--one
+of those wild thoughts that come to the sanest woman at times.  She was
+captured by the excitement in which she had moved during the past month
+--far more now than she had been in all the fight itself.
+
+There came a knock at the outer door, and before that of her own room
+opened, she recognized the step of the visitor.  So it was Tarboe had
+come.  He remembered that day in the street when he met Junia, and was
+shown there were times when a woman could not be approached with emotion.
+He had waited till the day he knew she was alone, for he had made a
+friend of her servant by judicious gifts of money.
+
+"I hope you're glad to see me," he said with an uncertain smile, as he
+saw her surprise.
+
+"I hope I am," she replied, and motioned him to a seat.  He chose a high-
+backed chair with a wide seat near the lounge.  He made a motion of
+humorous dissent to her remark, and sat down.
+
+"Well, we pulled it off somehow, didn't we?" she said.  "Carnac Grier is
+M.P."
+
+"And his foe is in his grave," remarked Tarboe dryly.  "Providence pays
+debts that ought to be paid.  This election has settled a lot of things,"
+she returned with a smile.
+
+"I suppose it has, and I've come here to try and find one of the
+settlements."
+
+"Well, find them," she retorted.
+
+"I said one of the settlements only.  I have to be accurate in my life."
+
+"I'm glad to hear of it.  You helped Mr. Grier win his election.  It was
+splendid of you.  Think of it, Mr. Tarboe, Carnac Grier is beginning to
+get even with his foes."
+
+"I'm not a foe--if that's what you mean.  I've proved it."
+
+She smiled provokingly.  "You've proved only you're not an absolute
+devil, that's all.  You've not proved yourself a real man--not yet.  Do
+you think it paid your debt to Carnac Grier that you helped get him into
+Parliament?"
+
+His face became a little heated.  "I'll prove to you and to the world
+that I'm not an absolute devil in the Grier interests.  I didn't steal
+the property.  I tried to induce John Grier to leave it to Carnac or his
+mother, for if he'd left it to Mrs. Grier it would have come to Carnac.
+He did not do it that way, though.  He left it to me.  Was I to blame for
+that?"
+
+"Perhaps not, but you could have taken Carnac in, or given up the
+property to him--the rightful owner.  You could have done that.
+But you were thinking of yourself altogether."
+
+"Not altogether.  In the first place, I am bound to keep my word to John
+Grier.  Besides, if Carnac had inherited, the property would have got
+into difficulties--there were things only John Grier and I understood,
+and Carnac would have been floored."
+
+"Wouldn't you still have been there?"
+
+"Who knows!  Who can tell!  Maybe not!"
+
+"Carnac Grier is a very able man."
+
+"But of the ablest.  He'll be a success in Parliament.  He'll play a big
+part; he won't puddle about.  I meant there was a risk in letting Carnac
+run the business at the moment, and--"
+
+"And there never was with you!"
+
+"None.  My mind had grasped all John Grier intended, and I have the
+business at my fingers' ends.  There was no risk with me.  I've proved
+it.  I've added five per cent to the value of the business since John
+Grier died.  I can double the value of it in twenty years--and easy at
+that."
+
+"If you make up your mind to do it, you will," she said with admiration,
+for the man was persuasive, and he was playing a game in which he was a
+master.
+
+Her remarks were alive with banter, for Tarboe's humour was a happiness
+to her.
+
+"How did I buy your approval?" he questioned alertly.
+
+"By ability to put a bad case in a good light.  You had your case, and
+you have made a real success.  If you keep on you may become a Member of
+Parliament some day!"
+
+He laughed.  "Your gifts have their own way of stinging.  I don't believe
+I could be elected to Parliament.  I haven't the trick of popularity of
+that kind."
+
+Many thoughts flashed through Tarboe's mind.  If he married her now, and
+the truth was told about the wills and the law gave Carnac his rights,
+she might hate him for not having told her when he proposed.  So it was
+that in his desire for her life as his own, he now determined there
+should be no second will.  In any case, Carnac had enough to live on
+through his mother.  Also, he had capacity to support himself.  There was
+a touch of ruthlessness in Tarboe.  No one would ever guess what the
+second will contained--no one.  The bank would have a letter saying where
+the will was to be found, but if it was not there!
+
+He would ask Junia to be his wife now, while she was so friendly.  Her
+eyes were shining, her face was alive with feeling, and he was aware that
+the best chances of his life had come to win her.  If she was not now in
+the hands of Carnac, his chances were good.  Yet there was the tale of
+the secret marriage--the letter he saw Carnac receive in John Grier's
+office!  The words of the ancient Greek came to him as he looked at her:
+"He who will not strike when the hour comes shall wither like a flower,
+and his end be that of the chaff of the field."
+
+His face flushed with feeling, his eyes grew bright with longing, his
+tongue was loosed to the enterprise.  "Do you dream, and remember your
+dreams?" he asked with a thrill in his voice.  "Do you?"
+
+"I don't dream often, but I sometimes remember my dreams."
+
+"I dream much, and one dream I have constantly."
+
+"What is it?" she asked with anticipation.
+
+"It is the capture of a wild bird in a garden--in a cultivated garden
+where there are no nests, no coverts for the secret invaders.  I dream
+that I pursue the bird from flower-bed to flower-bed, from bush to bush,
+along paths and the green-covered walls; and I am not alone in my chase,
+for there are others pursuing.  It is a bitter struggle to win the wild
+thing.  And why?  Because there is pursuing one of the pursuers another
+bird of red plumage.  Do you understand?"
+
+He paused, and saw her face was full of colour and her eyes had a glow.
+Every nerve in her was pulsing hard.
+
+"Tell me," she said presently, "whom do you mean by the bird of red
+plumage?  Is it a mere figure of speech?  Or has it a real meaning?"
+
+"It has a real meaning."
+
+He rose to his feet, bent over her and spoke hotly.  "Junia, the end of
+my waiting has come.  I want you as I never wanted anything in my life.
+I must know the truth.  I love you, Junia.  I have loved you from the
+first moment I saw you, and nothing is worth while with you not in it.
+Let us work together.  It is a big, big game I'm playing."
+
+"Yes, it's a big game you're playing," she said with emotion.  "It is a
+big, big game, and, all things considered, you should win it, but I doubt
+you will.  I feel there are matters bigger than the game, or than you, or
+me, or anyone else.  And I do not believe in your bird of red plumage; I
+don't believe it exists.  It may have done so, but it doesn't now."
+
+She also got to her feet, and Tarboe was so near her she could feel his
+hot breath on her cheek.
+
+"No, it doesn't exist now," she repeated, "and the pursuer is not
+pursued.  You have more imagination than belongs to a mere man of
+business--you're an inexperienced poet."
+
+He caught her hand and drew it to his breast.  "The only poetry I know is
+the sound of your voice in the wind, the laughter of your lips in the
+sun, the delight of your body in the heavenly flowers.  Yes, I've drunk
+you in the wild woods; I've trailed you on the river; I've heard you in
+the grinding storm--always the same, the soul of all beautiful things.
+Junia, you shall not put me away from you.  You shall be mine, and
+you and I together shall win our way to great ends.  We will have
+opportunity, health, wealth and prosperity.  Isn't it worth while?"
+
+"Yes," she answered after a moment, "but it cannot be with you, my
+friend."
+
+She withdrew her fingers and stepped back; she made a gesture of friendly
+repulsion.  "You have said all that can be said, you have gifts greater
+than you yourself believe; and I have been tempted; but it is no use,
+there are deeper things than luxuries and the magazines of merchandise--
+much deeper.  No, no, I cannot marry you; if you were as rich as Midas,
+as powerful as Caesar, I would not marry you--never, never, never."
+
+"You love another," he said boldly.  "You love Carnac Grier."
+
+"I do not love you--isn't that enough?"
+
+"Almost--almost enough," he said, embarrassed.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+THIS WAY HOME
+
+All Junia had ever felt of the soul of things was upon her as she
+arranged flowers and listened to the church bells ringing.
+
+"They seem to be always ringing," she said to herself, as she lightly
+touched the roses.  "It must be a Saint's Day--where's Denzil?  Ah, there
+he is in the garden!  I'll ask him."
+
+Truth is, she was deceiving herself.  She wanted to talk with Denzil
+about all that had happened of late, and he seemed, somehow, to avoid
+her.  Perhaps he feared she had given her promise to Tarboe who had, as
+Denzil knew, spent an hour with her the night before.  As this came to
+Denzil's brain, he felt a shiver go through him.  Just then he heard
+Junia's footsteps, and saw her coming towards him.
+
+"Why are the bells ringing so much, Denzil?  Is it a Saint's Day?" she
+asked.
+
+He took off his hat.  "Yes, ma'm'selle, it is a Saint's Day," and he
+named it.  "There were lots of neighbours at early Mass, and some have
+gone to the Church of St. Anne de Beaupre at Beaupre, them that's got
+sickness."
+
+"Yes, Beaupre is as good as Lourdes, I'm sure.  Why didn't you go,
+Denzil?"
+
+"Why should I go, ma'm'selle--I ain't sick--ah, bah!"
+
+"I thought you were.  You've been in low spirits ever since our election,
+Denzil."
+
+"Nothing strange in that, ma'm'selle.  I've been thinking of him that's
+gone."
+
+"You mean Monsieur Barouche, eh?"
+
+"Not of M'sieu' Barouche, but of the father to the man that beat M'sieu'
+Barouche."
+
+"Why should you be thinking so much of John Grier these days?"
+
+"Isn't it the right time?  His son that he threw off without a penny has
+proved himself as big a man as his father--ah, surelee!  M'sieu' left
+behind him a will that gave all he had to a stranger.  His own son was
+left without a sou.  There he is now," he added, nodding towards the
+street.
+
+Junia saw Carnac making his way towards her house.  "Well, I'll talk with
+him," she said, and her face flushed.  She knew she must give account of
+her doings with Luzanne Larue.
+
+A few moments later in the house, her hand lay in that of Carnac, and his
+eyes met hers.
+
+"It's all come our way, Junia," he remarked gaily, though there was
+sadness in his tone.
+
+"It's as you wanted it.  You won."
+
+"Thanks to you, Junia," and he took from his pocket the blue certificate.
+
+"That--oh, that was not easy to get," she said with agitation.  "She had
+a bad purpose, that girl."
+
+"She meant to announce it?"
+
+"Yes, through Barode Barouche.  He agreed to that."
+
+Carnac flushed.  "He agreed to that--you know it?"
+
+"Yes.  The day you were made candidate she arrived here; and the next
+morning she went to Barode Barouche and told her story.  He bade her
+remain secret till the time was ripe, and he was to be the judge of that.
+He was waiting for the night before the election.  Then he was going to
+strike you and win!"
+
+"She told you that--Luzanne told you that?"
+
+"And much else.  Besides, she told me you had saved her life from the
+street-cars; that you had played fair at the start."
+
+"First and last I played fair," he said indignantly.
+
+Her eyes were shining.  "Not from first to last, Carnac.  You ought not
+to have painted her, or made much of her and then thrown her over.  She
+knew--of course she knew, after a time, that you did not mean to propose
+to her, and all the evil in her came out.  Then she willed to have you in
+spite of yourself, believing, if you were married, her affection would
+win you in the end.  There it was--and you were to blame."
+
+"But why should you defend her, Junia?"
+
+Her tongue became bitter now.  "Just as you would, if it was some one
+else and not yourself."
+
+His head was sunk on his breast, his eyes were burning.  "It was a
+horrible thing for Barouche to plan."
+
+"Why so horrible?  If you were hiding a marriage for whatever reason, it
+should be known to all whose votes you wanted."
+
+"Barouche was the last man on earth to challenge me, for he had a most
+terrible secret."
+
+"What was it?"  Her voice had alarm, for she had never seen Carnac so
+disturbed.
+
+"He was fighting his own son--and he knew it!"  The words came in broken
+accents.
+
+"He was fighting his own son, and he knew it!  You mean to say that!"
+Horror was in her voice.
+
+"I mean that the summer before I was born--"
+
+He told her the story as his mother had told it to him.  Then at last he
+said:
+
+"And now you know Barode Barouche got what he deserved.  He ruined my
+mother's life; he died the easiest death such a man could die.  He has
+also spoiled my life."
+
+"Nothing can spoil your life except yourself," she declared firmly, and
+she laid a hand upon his arm.  "Who told you all this--and when?"
+
+"My mother in a letter last night.  I had a talk with her afterwards."
+
+"Who else knows?"  "Only you."
+
+"And why did you tell me?"
+
+"Because I want you to know why our ways must for ever lie apart."
+
+"I don't grasp what you mean," she declared in a low voice.
+
+"You don't grasp why, loving you, I didn't ask you to marry me long ago;
+but you found out for yourself from the one who was responsible, and
+freed me and saved me; and now you know I am an illegitimate son."
+
+"And you want to cut me out of your life for a bad man's crime, not your
+own.  .  .  .  Listen, Carnac.  Last night I told Mr. Tarboe I could not
+marry him.  He is rich, he has control of a great business, he is a man
+of mark.  Why do you suppose I did it, and for over two years have done
+the same?--for he has wanted me all that time.  Does not a girl know when
+a real man wants her?  And Luke Tarboe is a real man.  He knows what he
+wants, and he goes for it, and little could stop him as he travels.  Why
+do you suppose I did it?"  Her face flushed, anger lit her eyes.
+"Because there was another man; but I've only just discovered he's a
+sham, with no real love for me.  It makes me sorry I ever knew him."
+
+"Me--no real love for you!  That's not the truth: it's because I have no
+real name to give you--that's why I've spoken as I have.  Never have I
+cared for anyone except you, Junia, and I could have killed anyone that
+wronged you--"
+
+"Kill yourself then," she flashed.
+
+"Have I wronged you, Junia?"
+
+"If you kept me waiting and prevented me from marrying a man I could have
+loved, if I hated you--if you did that, and then at last told me to go my
+ways, don't you think it wronging me!  Don't be a fool, Carnac.  You're
+not the only man on earth a good girl could love.  I tell you, again and
+again I have been moved towards Luke Tarboe, and if he had had
+understanding of women, I should now be his wife."
+
+"You tell me what I have always known," he interposed.  "I knew Tarboe
+had a hold on your heart.  I'm not so vain as to think I've always been
+the one man for you.  I lived long in anxious fear, and--"
+
+"And now you shut the door in my face!  Looked at from any standpoint,
+it's ugly."
+
+"I want you to have your due," he answered with face paler.  "You're a
+great woman--the very greatest, and should have a husband born in honest
+wedlock."
+
+"I'm the best judge of what I want," she declared almost sharply, yet
+there was a smile at her lips.  "Why, I suppose if John Grier had left
+you his fortune, you'd give it up; you'd say, 'I have no right to it,'
+and would give it to my brother-in-law, Fabian."
+
+"I should."
+
+"Yet Fabian had all he deserved from his father.  He has all he should
+have, and he tried to beat his father in business.  Carnac, don't be a
+bigger fool than there's any need to be.  What is better than that John
+Grier's business should be in Tarboe's hands--or in yours?  Remember,
+John Grier might have left it all to your mother, and, if he had, you'd
+have taken it, if she had left it to you.  You'd have taken it even if
+you meant to give it away afterwards.  There are hospitals to build.
+There are good and costly things to do for the State."
+
+Suddenly she saw in his eyes a curious soft understanding, and she put
+her hand on his shoulder.  "Carnac," she said gently, "great, great
+Carnac, won't you love me?"
+
+For an instant he felt he must still put her from him, then he clasped
+her to his breast.
+
+"But I really had to throw myself into your arms!" she said later.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+"HALVES, PARDNER, HALVES"
+
+It was Thanksgiving Day, and all the people of the Province were en fete.
+The day was clear, and the air was thrilling with the spirits of the
+north country; the vibrant sting of oxygen, the blessed resilience of the
+river and the hills.
+
+It was a great day on the St. Lawrence, for men were preparing to go to
+the backwoods, to the "shanties," and hosts were busy with the crops,
+storing them; while all in trade and industry were cheerful.  There was a
+real benedicite in the air.  In every church.  Catholic and Protestant,
+hands of devoted workers had made beautiful altar and communion table,
+and lectern and pulpit, and in the Methodist chapel and the Presbyterian
+kirk, women had made the bare interiors ornate.  The bells of all the
+churches were ringing, French and English; and each priest, clergyman and
+minister was moving his people in his own way and by his own ritual to
+bless God and live.
+
+In the city itself, the Mayor had arranged a festival in the evening, and
+there were gathered many people to give thanks.  But those most
+conspicuous were the poor, unsophisticated habitants, who were on good
+terms with the refreshment provided.  Their enthusiasm was partly due to
+the presence of Carnac Grier.  In his speech to the great crowd, among
+other things the Mayor said: "It is our happiness that we have here one
+whose name is familiar to all in French-Canada--that of the new Member of
+Parliament, Monsieur Carnac Grier.  In Monsieur Grier we have a man who
+knows his own mind, and it is filled with the interests of the French as
+well as the English.  He is young, he has power, and he will use his
+youth and power to advance the good of the whole country.  May he live
+long!"
+
+Carnac never spoke better in his life than in his brief reply.  When he
+had finished, some one touched his arm.  It was Luke Tarboe.
+
+"A good speech, Grier.  Can you give me a few moments?"
+
+"Here?" asked Carnac, smiling.
+
+"Not here, but in the building.  There is a room where we can be alone,
+and I have to tell you something of great importance."
+
+"Of great importance?  Well, so have I to tell you, Tarboe."
+
+A few minutes later they were in the Mayor's private parlour, hung with
+the portraits of past Governors and Mayors, and carrying over the door
+the coat-of-arms of the Province.
+
+Presently Carnac said: "Let me give you my news first, Tarboe: I am to
+marry Junia Shale--and soon."
+
+Tarboe nodded.  "I expected that.  She is worth the best the world can
+offer."  There was a ring of honesty in his tone.  "All the more reason
+why I should tell you what my news is, Carnac.  I'm going to tell you
+what oughtn't yet to be told for another two years, but I feel it due
+you, for you were badly used, and so I break my word to your father."
+
+Carnac's hand shot out in protest, but Tarboe took no notice.  "I mean to
+tell you now in the hour of your political triumph that--"
+
+"That I can draw on you for ten thousand dollars, perhaps?" shot out
+Carnac.
+
+"Not for ten thousand, but in two years' time--or to-morrow--for a
+hundred and fifty times that if you want it."
+
+Carnac shrugged his shoulders.  "I don't know what you're driving at,
+Tarboe.  Two years from now--or to-morrow--I can draw on you for a
+hundred and fifty times ten thousand dollars!  What does that mean?  Is
+it you're tired of the fortune left you by the biggest man industrially
+French-Canada has ever known?"
+
+"I'll tell you the truth--I never had a permanent fortune, and I was
+never meant to have the permanent fortune, though I inherited by will.
+That was a matter between John Grier and myself.  There was another will
+made later, which left the business to some one else."
+
+"I don't see."
+
+"Of course you don't see, and yet you must."  Tarboe then told the story
+of the making of the two wills, doing justice to John Grier.
+
+"He never did things like anyone else, and he didn't in dying.  He loved
+you, Carnac.  In spite of all he said and did he believed in you.  He
+knew you had the real thing in you, if you cared to use it."
+
+"Good God!  Good God!" was all Carnac could at first say.  "And you
+agreed to that?"
+
+"What rights had I?  None at all.  I'll come out of it with over a half-
+million dollars--isn't that enough for a backwoodsman?  I get the profits
+of the working for three years, and two hundred thousand dollars besides.
+I ought to be satisfied with that."
+
+"Who knows of the will besides yourself?" asked Carnac sharply.
+
+"No one.  There is a letter to the bank simply saying that another will
+exists and where it is, but that's all.
+
+"And you could have destroyed that will in my favour?"
+
+"That's so."  The voice of Tarboe was rough with feeling, his face grew
+dark.  "More than once I willed to destroy it.  It seemed at first I
+could make better use of the property than you.  The temptation was big,
+but I held my own, and now I've no fear of meeting anyone in Heaven or
+Hell.  I've told you all.  .  .  .
+
+"Not quite all.  There's one thing more.  The thought of Junia Shale made
+me want to burn the second will, and I almost did it; but I'm glad I
+didn't."
+
+"If you had, and had married her, you wouldn't have been happy.  You
+can't be fooling a wife and be safe."
+
+"I guess I know that--just in time.  .  .  .  I have a bad heart, Carnac.
+Your property came to me against my will through your father, but I
+wanted the girl you're going to marry, and against my will you won
+her.  I fought for her.  I thought there was a chance for me, because of
+the rumour you were secretly married--"
+
+"I'll tell you about it, Tarboe, now.  It was an ugly business."  And he
+told in a dozen sentences the story of Luzanne and the false marriage.
+
+When he had finished, Tarboe held out his hand.  "It was a close shave,
+Carnac."
+
+After a few further remarks, Tarboe said: "I thought there was a chance
+for me with Junia Shale, but there never was a real one, for she was
+yours from a child.  You won her fairly, Carnac.  If you'll come to the
+office to-morrow morning, I'll show you the will."
+
+"You'll show me the will?" asked Carnac with an edge to his tone.
+
+"What do you mean?"  Tarboe did not like the look in the other's eyes.
+
+"I mean, what you have you shall keep, and what John Grier leaves me by
+that will, I will not keep."
+
+"You will inherit, and you shall keep."
+
+"And turn you out!" remarked Carnac ironically.  "I needn't be turned
+out.  I hoped you'd keep me as manager.  Few could do it as well, and, as
+Member of Parliament, you haven't time yourself.  I'll stay as manager at
+twenty thousand dollars a year, if you like."
+
+Carnac could not tell him the real reason for declining to inherit, but
+that did not matter.  Yet there flashed into his heart a love, which he
+had never felt so far in his life, for John Grier.  The old man had
+believed he would come out right in the end, and so had left him the
+fortune in so odd a way.  How Carnac longed to tell Tarboe the whole
+truth about Barode Barouche, and yet dare not!  After a short time of
+hesitation and doubt, Carnac said firmly:
+
+"I'll stand by the will, if you'll be my partner and manager, Tarboe.  If
+you'll take half the business and manage the whole of it, I'll sell the
+half for a dollar to you, and we can run together to the end."
+
+Tarboe's face lighted; there was triumph in his eyes.  It was all better
+than he had dared to hope, for he liked the business, and he loathed the
+way the world had looked at John Grier's will.
+
+"Halves, pardner, halves!" he said, assenting gladly, and held out his
+hand.
+
+They clasped hands warmly.
+
+The door opened and Junia appeared.  She studied their faces anxiously.
+When she saw the smiling light in them:
+
+"Oh, you two good men!" she said joyously, and held out a hand to each.
+
+
+
+
+ETEXT EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS:
+
+Don't be a bigger fool than there's any need to be
+Life is only futile to the futile
+Youth's a dream, middle age a delusion, old age a mistake
+
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CARNAC'S FOLLY, BY PARKER, V3 ***
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