Part 21 (1/2)

Harry Rames did his first service for an elector of Ludsey. He glanced toward Mr. Benoliel, who rose.

”It is getting late,” said Benoliel, ”and Rames has a busy day in front of him.”

”I will order your motor-car round to the door,” said Rames. He rang the bell and the rest of the company left the table. Diana Royle and Cynthia sought their cloaks in the adjoining sitting-room. Harry Rames took M. Poizat by the arm and led him to the door.

”I am very grateful to you,” he said. ”Good-night.” And even as M.

Poizat's foot was over the threshold the voice of Colonel Challoner brought him to a halt:

”One moment. I remember now. You come from Alsace, M. Poizat.”

”I come from Provence,” cried the little man, facing about swiftly with a pa.s.sionate, white face.

Harry Rames had begun to think Colonel Challoner rather a bore with his incomplete reminiscences. That thought pa.s.sed from him altogether.

He had but to look at the two men to know that some queer and unexpected moment of drama had sprung from their chance meeting at this hotel at Ludsey. They stood facing one another, the little Frenchman in the doorway with fear and rage contending in his face, his mouth twisted into a snarl, his lips drawn back from his gums like an animal, his teeth gleaming; the colonel erect above the table with the candle-light s.h.i.+ning upward upon a triumphant and menacing face.

”You were in Metz in '71,” cried Challoner. ”So was I. I was a lad at the time. I was aide to our attache. That's where I saw you, M.

Poizat--in the long corridor of the a.r.s.enal. Yes, you were in Metz in '71.”

And behind M. Poizat appeared the waiter announcing that Mr.

Benoliel's motor-car was at the door.

CHAPTER XV

THE MAYOR AND THE MAN

St. Anne's Hall stands tucked away in a narrow street of Ludsey by the s.p.a.cious square; and from its ancient windows you look out between the lozenges of stained gla.s.s upon the great church of St. Anne with its soaring spire and its wide graveyard. Into this hall the ballot-boxes were brought from the polling-booths on the next evening, and at long tables in the Council Chamber the voting papers were sorted and counted. Harry Rames walked from table to table. He seemed to see nothing but crosses against his opponent's name. He did not dare to put a question to any of the scrutineers standing behind the sorters.

The very swiftness with which the votes were counted impressed him with a sense of disaster. For the first time he began to ask himself how he was to shape his life if to-night he were defeated. Thus an hour pa.s.sed and then the chief constable drew him aside to a bench under the musician's gallery at one end of the room.

”I've been watching the tables, Captain Rames,” he said, ”and I think you are going to be elected.”

”You do?” said Rames eagerly. ”Yes, and I shall be very glad if you are.”

”Thank you,” exclaimed Rames. He could have wrung off the chief constable's hand in the fervor of his grat.i.tude.

”Oh, I am not speaking as a politician,” the chief constable returned with a smile. ”I have the order of my city to look after. That's all I am thinking about. If you weren't by any chance to get in, I am afraid there would be trouble to-night in Ludsey. And I want you if you are returned to get back to your hotel at once. It's important from my point of view that you should show up on your balcony as soon as possible after the result is declared.”

”I see,” said Rames.

”I will take you out the back way through the police station,” the chief constable continued, ”and there's a lane opposite which will lead you straight to your back door. You had better run, I think. For your own friends would tear you to pieces to-night without noticing they were doing you any harm.”

The chief constable suddenly changed his tone. One of the scrutineers on the side of Rames's opponent had drawn close to them. The chief constable had no intention to allow a suspicion that he favored one side more than the other. He raised his voice.

”You have noticed our tapestry, perhaps. It is quite invaluable, I believe. We lent it two years ago to the South Kensington Museum.

There was an American millionaire here the other day who wished to buy it.”

Raines looked across the room.