The Trespasser, Volume 2

g, and asked Gaston to be sure and come to Paris. The note was carelessly friendly. Afte

indow looking out on the gay traffic, scarcely stirring; his eyes slow, brooding. Occasionally, standing so, he would make the sacred gesture. One who heard him swear now and then, in a calm, deliberate way,-at the cook and the porter,- would have thought the matters in strange contrast. But his religion was a central habit, followed as mechanically as his appetite or the folding of his maste

r both. It created notice, criticism, but he was superior to that. Time and again people asked him to ride, but he always pleaded another engagement. He would then be s

hese were the hours when he really was with the old life-lived it again-prairie, savannah, ice-plain, alkali desert. When, dismounting, the horses were taken and they went up the stairs, Gaston would softly lay his whip across Jacques's shoulders without speaking. This

, Jacques?"

red a little with pleasure.

when do w

ack w

North, m

our noddle n

n to "Brillon" cut

the tower-clock. When we lie on the Plains of Yath from sunset to sunrise, you never stir then. You remember when we sleep on the ledge of the Voshti mountain-so narrow that we were tied together? Well, we were as babes in blankets. I

an his fingers through his hair, regarded his hands, t

to h

the dressing-table, poured out the shaving-water, threw a towel over his arm, and turned to come to th

in him. He dropped his eyes, slid out of

have Gaston catch him by the shoulders wi

ol, I'm not worth it!

s his fool-alors!"

presently said, "w

night, monsi

saw w

-yard with the lady." G

recogni

oved all a

me. I'm going to tell you, though, two

rew out h

as Manitou! She was a

ll there's need for

itical meeting in the interest of a wealthy local brewer, who confidently expected the seat, and, through gifts to the party, a knighthood. Before the meeting, in the gush of-as he put it "kindred aims," he laid a finger familiarly in Gaston's button-hole. Jacques, who was present, smiled, for h

milar position, heard a voice say do

ou pl

Gaston in a few formal words, unconventional in idea, introduced Mr. Babbs as "a gentleman whose name was a household word in the county, who w

tain Maudsley said: "

war

treat him wit

t makes a noise on

bbs, M. P., member of the London County Council. Sir S. G. Babbs, it will be

's dr

n his mind. He doesn't give from a sense

is t

fellows dance round you and call you one of the lost race, the Mighty Men of the Kimash Hills. And they'll do that while the rum lasts. M

emen come to support Sir William Belward. They we

mself chiefly to a bunch of farmers, artisans, and labouring-men near. After some good-natured raillery at political meetings in general, the bigotry of party, the difficulty i

olitics, when it is played fair. But here is what I want particularly to say: We are not all born the same, nor can we live the same. One man is born a brute, and another a good sort; one a liar, and one an honest man; one has brains, and the other hasn't. Now, I've lived where, as they say, one man is as good as another. But he isn't, there or here. A weak man can't run with a strong. We have heard to-night a lot of talk for something and against something. It is over. Are you sure you have got what was meant clear in your mind? [Laughter, and 'Blowed if we'ave!'] Very well; do not worry about that. We have been playing a game of 'Allow me to speak, me noble lord!' And who is going to help you to get the most out of your country a

the hands of the meeti

Ba

trong, arid voice

e noble lord!' [Great

old chum, J

n's face went grave. He rep

e was very ill, and had sent her husband to beg Gaston to come. Gaston had dreaded this hour, though he knew it would come one day. A woman on a death-bed has a right to ask for and get the truth. He had forborne telling her of her son; and she, whenever she had seen him,

s told, who in all the years since Jock had gone, had never passed the inn without stopping to say: "Where's my old chum, Jock Lawson?"

Gaston turned to the o

pon my word, Belward,"

en Gasgo

emember? Devil of a speech that! But, if you will 'allow me to sp

nstitutional step is from a republi

, and I don't kn

wh

m think a

hand to the d

they do. I am always in to

things here, Belward,"

k; and we need wis

am only adaptable. The

would not be wasted, and the fluffy gentleman retired. When he got out of earshot in the shadows, he turned and sh

tent to tell the whole truth. He wished that he had done it before; but his motiv

ight. I am getting sensitive-the thing I find everywhere in this country: fear of feeling or giving pain; as though the bad tooth

Gaston quietly felt her wrist, counting the pulse-beats; then told Cawley to wet a cloth and hand it to him. He put it gently on the woman's head. T

reat clock in the next room. Gaston watched her face, and there came to him like an inspiration little things Jock did, which would mean more to his mother than large a

aste word. When he came to that scene in the Fort, the three men sitting, targets for his bullets,-he softened the details greatly. He did not tell it as he told it at the Court, but t

urned a little sick as he saw the white face before him. She drew herself up, her fingers caught away the nig

You killed my boy!

a rush behind him. He rose, turned swiftly, saw a bottle swingi

bleeding head to her

ow. Cawley had thrown his arms about the strugg

t to the pinioned man, a

boy!" She kissed G

idley Court, and in a little upper r