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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.
"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.
"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."
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.
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.
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.
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.
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. The whole country rang with the defeat and death of Barode Barouche, and the triumph of the disinherited son of John Grier.
"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.
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.
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