The Lane That Had No Turning, Volume 1.

in the attitude of both. Apart from the fact that Louis had succeeded to the Seigneury promised to Fournel, and sealed to him by a reputed will which had never been fou

It had been his fancy to play the Seigneur, the lord magnificent and bountiful, and he had determined to use wealth and all manner of influence to have the title of Baron of Pontiac revived-it had been obsolete for a hundred years. He leaned towards

y or reward. The matter had become a cause celebre, the Land Company engaging the greatest lawyers in both the English and French province. In the Supreme Court the case was lost to Louis' clients. Louis took it over to the Privy Council in London, and carried it through triumphantly and alone, proving his clients' title. His two poor Frenchmen regained their land. In payment he would accept nothing save the ordinary fees, as though it were some petty case in a county court. He had, however, made a reputation, which he had seemed not to value, save as a means of showing hostility to the governing race, and the Seigneury of Pontiac, when

e fact that Louis Racine had married the now famo

ave of ideas, the victim of sentiment. Not understanding, when he began to see that he could not attain the ob

ask for, as a matter of justice -if you k

k. He felt every glance of Fournel's eye a contemptuous comment upon his

ld torture the man before him, and he was determined to do

so. The law gives it you instead. Your technical claim has overridden my rights-you have a gift for making successful technical claims. But these old personal relics, of no monetary value-you should waive your avaricious and indelicate claim to

ing-not one single

r incensed him against the man, as an affront to decency and to his own just claims to the honours the Frenchman enjoyed. It was a petty resentment, but George Fournel had set his he

is voice rising. "Everything is mine by law, and everything I w

s brooded over his land, of the days when Louis Quatorze was king. He cherished everything that had association with the days of the old regime, as a miner hugs his gold, or a

as I have said," urged the Englishman, realising as he s

renchmen love. We are not a race of

distorted the other's meaning, and was delighted to see the Seigneur's fingers twitch with fury. "But since you can't buy the things you love-and you seem to think you should-how do you get them? Do you come by them hon

el, blinded, staggered back upon the book-shelves, he snatched two antique swords from the wall. Throwing one on the floor in fron

e had mistaken Fournel's meaning. He had put the most horrible construction upon it. He thou

piercing black eyes. His head was thrown forward even more than his deformity compelled, his w

e you stand," he continued, in a hoarse whisper. "I will g

fore had he been so humiliated. And by a Frenchman-it roused every instinct of race-hatred in him. Yet he wanted not to go at him with a sword, but with his two honest hands, and b

the other's hands. "Coward!" said the Seigneur. "You dare not fight with the sword. With the sword we are even. I am as strong as

deadly purpose in his eyes; the wild determination of a man who did not care whether he lived or died, ready to throw himself upon a hundred in his hungry rage. It seemed so mad, so monstrous, that the beautiful summ

e of futile, foolish waste and disfigurement, even as t

it aside. The blade lacerated his fingers and his palm, but he did not let go till he had seized the sword at his fe

this affair. If the Seigneur were killed in the encounter-he must defend himself now- what a miserable notoriety and possible legal penalty and public punishment! For who could vouch for the truth o

said, as Louis Racine p

The game isn't w

't buy what you love from me. I don't care for life, and I would gladly die, to see your blood flow. Look,

lder and once from the leg of his opponent, and the blood was flowing from each wound. After the second injury they stood panting for a moment. Now the outside world was shut out from Fournel's senses as it was from Louis Racine's. The only world they knew was this cool room, whose oak floors were browned by the slow searching stains of Time, and darkened by the footsteps of six generations that had come and gone through the old house. The books al

rd!" again cried the Seigneur, in a shriller voice, f

ng clashed on the soft air. As they struggled, a voice cam

en day, Oh hap

ometh from fields

sword; he come

honour, and love

Seigneur, and a look of pain shot across his face. Fournel was only dimly aware of the voice, for he was hard pressed

oulders against it, and called, "Louis! Louis!" Suddenly she darted away, found Havel the faithful servant in the passage, and brought him swiftly to the door. The man sprang upon it, striki

hurriedly to Havel: "Draw the blind there, shut the d

opped on her knees beside the bleeding

nd I've killed him, Madeli

hurriedly and tremblingly opened Fournel'

d, turning quickly, she saw Madame Marie holding the

face now. She was acting with good presence of mind. A new sense was working in her. Something had gone from her suddenly where her husband was concerned, and somethin

, and her voice had a command in it that was not to be gainsaid. "Since you

!" she murmured, and while Havel stripped the arm and leg, she poured some water betwee

en, but Madelinette caught him, helped him to the sofa, and, forcing him gently

ds well bandaged, sat in a big arm- chair, glowering round him. At his first coming-to, Louis Racine, at h

talk and to have no more fool's doings, and that one day he hop

y, and refused to take food or drink from their hands. His servant was brought from the Louis Quinze Hotel, and through him he got what was needed for refreshment, and requested that no one of the h

ears of my life to

adame," he said gloomily, rais