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Updated: May 31, 2025
By a strange coincidence, Zotique and Vital, instead of going to the table with the others, gravitated toward the door. "Just thought I would have a look out; it is such a fine night," said Zotique, as he took a long breath of fresh air. Vital looked at his robust brother in a queer, constrained manner, and said that it was indeed a beautiful evening.
Zotique's duty of directing the actual carrying out of the campaign made him an authority on the "feel" of the constituency. "Breboeuf will give you figures," replied he, reticently, for the struggle had proved grave. The Curé had almost succeeded, so far, in keeping his vow. "Eh bien, ma brebis?" "From the lists as Zotique has marked them I compute a majority of 28."
The tempter with nice discernment, perceiving that this short and bold interview was useless, and that he ought to withdraw, put his cigar between his lips, puffed a "Good-day, gentlemen," and turned back meditatively, along the path towards the pines of the Manoir. "Au plaisir!" returned Zotique to him with facetious exactitude. Haviland was furious.
Zotique was mysterious, and in better humor. He supervised with determination, and seemed to know how to calculate the exact effect of everything. Breboeuf was marvellously transformed into a little flying spider, running backwards and forwards strengthening Haviland's web.
He therefore took up his brown straw hat and black cane, and started determinedly out to exercise his habit of vexing the high spirit of the school master, De La Lande. "Ah bon, fratello!" cried Zotique that afternoon when de La Lande appeared at his door, "How goes it? Come in and speak to Mr. Chrysler, here."
"You are as absent-minded as ever, Vital," he said jestingly, as he seized him by the arm and marched him into the room. The guests were seated, but there was still room for four or five more. After jeering them both for being moon-gazers, farmer Charest called Zotique to come and sit by his side.
Michel, when we went in to pay the seigneur his rents Zotique was at the presbytère with me and his brother the Honorable, and all of us playing cards with Pére Galibert. Zotique had come down from the city with a new keg of wine for the Sacrament, and they were discussing the disappearance. Mouton was there, and he says never a word.
Chrysler, like a sensible fellow-Member, quite comprehended the situation, and was content to note the admirable way in which his friend did everything; to receive a smile or friendly direction here and there, and to fall back on the attentions of l'Honorable, and the over-zealous Zotique.
They both uttered an exclamation, and looked up. It was Zotique! Over Zotique's shoulder the shameless moon shone full into their startled faces. A child could have read their story. In the surprise of the moment they forgot to unclasp hands. As he looked down at them an angry flush mounted to his brow, and then with a constrained nod Zotique stepped aside as though to continue his walk.
He thought of how anxiously he had watched the door for her, and how Zotique had upset all his plans by going so fearlessly up to her and taking her to the seat at his side. He wondered she had not noticed how he had stood up all the time she had been talking to his brother, and how in that way he had tried to get her to notice the generous vacant space at his side.
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