Part 26 (1/2)

but the baking had apparently pa.s.sed away with the paint. While he was curiously surveying this antique bit, a loud voice sounded through the open door, and the heavy form of the ”Yankee from Longueuil”

precipitated itself proudly, though a trifle unsteadily, forward down the steps and along the middle of the street, swearing, boasting and heading a swarm of men and boys, and loudly drawling a line of Connecticut notions in blasphemy.

It could be seen that Spoon was some kind of a hero in the eyes of Misericorde. Rich,--for he had paid the drinks; travelled,--they had his a.s.sertion for it; courageous,--he could anathematize the Archbishop; Misericorde had seldom such a novelty all to itself.

”Sacre! To blazes wit' you; set 'em up all roun', you blas' Canaydjin n.i.g.g.e.r! Du gin, vite done! John Collins' pour le crowd! I'm a white man, j'sht un homme blanc, j'sht Americain; I'm from the Unyted States, I am!

Sacre bleu! Health to all!”

”Health, monsieur!”

”Health, monsieur!”

”A thousand thanks.”

”Set 'em up again, bapteme, you blas' Canayjin n.i.g.g.e.r!”

”What does he say!” inquired the landlord, on the verge of being offended.

”Shut up, Potdevin!” said the only man who understood English, fearful lest the second treat should go astray.

”Take!” cried Spoon, in a at of reconciliation, throwing down a five dollar bill; and at the sight of the money, Potdevin, true landlord, proceeded with the pouring out of the beverages into very small gla.s.ses with very thick bottoms.

It was funny, when he had precipitated himself from the door, as above said, to contemplate the fellow with his low hat on one side and far down on his nose, his swelling s.h.i.+rt-front, striped breeches, and mighty bra.s.s chain, leading the trooping crowd like some travelling juggler.

All this, however, was election work.

Was it the kind of method Chamilly would approve? There was a short and certain answer.

Which then of Haviland's friends supplied Spoon with money for these only too obvious processes of vote-obtaining. It was not the Honorable, it was not De La Lande, it would not be penurious Benoit?

”Ah, well,” Chrysler thought, ”I am here but to observe. Am I not under obligations to Zotique, if it be he, which prevent my interfering?”

Another of Chrysler's theories too was exploded. He had long revolved a suspicion that it was Cuiller who had stolen Francois' $750. ”Where else,” thought he, ”does he get these liberal sums to spend?” Once he had ventured to ask Spoon himself about Le Brun's loss but was plumply faced with the growl, ”Do you suppose _I_ stole it?” and, ashamed of himself, withdrew the theory almost from his own mind. How he could explain even the American's expenditure.

CHAPTER x.x.xIII.

BLEUS.

The Haviland party were not the only people alive to the necessities of the contest. It was not seldom that in the Ontarian's walks during those few days, the steady, inscrutable bust of Grandmoulin pa.s.sed him, driven in one direction or another by Libergent; and sometimes Picault accompanied.

Grandmoulin, indeed, made herculean efforts. His grand _chefs d'oeuvre_ of oratory--soul stirring appeals, in the name of all that was sacred in honor and religion, for his hypocritical and corrupt purposes, were lifted in n.o.ble structures of eloquence before the people, till it seemed as if the lavishness of his genius and labor could only be explained by the desire of challenging the other great orator of the race. The young energies of Haviland responded readily. Their speeches were reported in full for the journals of the cities and watched for everywhere. It was the battle of Cataline and Cicero.

The back parishes were not so soundly ”Red” as Dormilliere: they usually polled a considerable Blue vote, and were very unstable. Here were concentrated the efforts of Grandmoulin to cajole and Picault to buy.

Once thus Chrysler met Libergent driving Grandmoulin in a ”buck-board,”

while another person sat in the back seat.