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"As you please, sir," said Lafarge bluntly, angry at being tricked, but inwardly glad to be free of the business, for he pictured to himself that girl at the tiller he had seen her as she went aft in a police court at Quebec. Yet his instinct for war and his sense of duty impelled him to say: "Still, sir, fight!" "No, no, Mr. Lafarge," excitedly rejoined his chief. "I cannot risk it.
You must make your choice once for all now." Lafarge stood a moment thinking. "Joan, I'll do it. I'd go hunting in hell at your bidding. But see. Everything's changed. I couldn't fight against you, but I can fight for you. All must be open now. You've said there's no contraband. Well, I'll tell Mr. Martin so, but I'll tell him also that you've only a crew of two " "Of three, now!" "Of three!
Though in 1844, the year in which the poison trial at Auch was opened, four years had passed since the conviction of Mme Lafarge at Tulle, controversy on the latter case still was rife throughout France. The two cases were linked, not only in the minds of the lay public, but through close analogy in the idea of lawyers and experts in medical jurisprudence.
"Good; send an officer," answered Tarboe. A moment after, Lafarge was in a boat rowing over to meet another boat rowed by Joan alone, who, dressed in a suit of Bissonnette's, had prevailed on her father to let her go. The two boats nearing each other, Joan stood up, saluting, and Lafarge did the same. "Good-day, m'sieu'," said Joan, with assumed brusqueness, mischief lurking about her mouth.
The splendid impudence of the thing stunned Lafarge, but he said: "I suppose one or the other ought to surrender; and naturally," he added with slow point, "it should be the weaker." "Very well. Our captain is willing to consider conditions. You came down on us to take us a quiet craft sailing in free waters. You attack us without cause. We summon all hands, and you run.
Mirepoix was already there a weak, irresolute man of fifty or thereabouts, completely off his head, listening first to Lafarge, then to Jacques Haret, and seemingly not knowing whether the giving of a theatrical performance without a license was a misdemeanor or high treason.
Miss Lafarge had died of delirium tremens after a year's teaching, and so Jemina's education had stopped. Across the still stream, still another still was standing; It was that of the Doldrums. The Doldrums and the Tantrums never exchanged calls. They hated each other. Fifty years before old Jem Doldrum and old Jem Tantrum had quarrelled in the Tantrum cabin over a game of slapjack.
Martin saw her coming, and gave word for all steam. It would be a pretty game, for the wind was in Tarboe's favour, and the general advantage was not greatly with the tug. Mr. Martin was now anxious indeed to get out of the way of the smuggler. Lafarge made one restraining effort, then settled into an ironical mood.
He is very polite; but pshaw, it is no use that, in whisky-running! To beat a great man, a man must be great. Tarboe Noir can lead M'sieu' Lafarge all like that!" It seemed as if he were pulling the nose of the concertina. Tarboe began tracing a kind of maze with his fingers on the deck, his eyes rolling outward like an endless puzzle. But presently he turned sharp on Joan.
Bissonnette bore a letter to a certain banker in Quebec, who already had done business with Tarboe, and next midnight Tarboe himself, with Gobal, Lafarge, Bissonnette, and another, came knocking at the banker's door, each carrying a keg on his shoulder and armed to the teeth. And, what was singular two stalwart police-officers walked behind with comfortable and approving looks.
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