THE ELECTION.
Election day at Dormillière was as election days in country places
always--that is, a great peal of driving to and fro, and a great deal of
crowding about the doors of the poll, and a dense atmosphere of smoke
and had jokes among the few to whom the polling-room was reserved, and
now and then a flying visit from Haviland, Libergent, or Grandmoulin,
for either of whom the people immediately made way by stumbling back on
each other's toes; and intermittent activity at head-quarters; and
ominous quiet at the parsonage.
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. The
Honorable seemed to act slowly, but really with deliberation and effect,
remarking neglected points, and himself seeing that certain "weak ones"
were brought to the right side of the poll. The schoolmaster was away
haranguing the back parishes. For the Blue side, Picault and Grandmoulin
appeared but once on the scene, but the energy of Ross de Bleury was
astonishing. Cajoling, ordering, opening bottles aside and treating,
volubly greeting everybody in his strong voice all day, he seemed to
have raised supporters for his party of whom no one would have dreamt
except Zotique; but the little closet up in the attic satisfied the
requirements of strict logic.
Haviland had added the fatigues of the last night to weeks of wearing
labor, with consequences at length upon his fund of spirits, and also
plainly on his face. He felt, like Grandmoulin, that his battle was
principally with De la Lande in the back of the county, cheering up his
ranks.
About two o'clock Zotique drove over to Miséricorde alone. He did not
return for an hour and a half, and when he did, his expression had
altered to one of decided triumph, though still mysterious and silent
Zotique, in fact, the evening before, when he drove to Miséricorde in
Josephte's little gig, found what he had suspected to be the truth, that
Benoit and Spoon had bought every vote of the hamlet; and paid for them,
in the interest of Libergent; but he still believed it possible,--Benoit
being incapacitated, and Spoon, he felt sure, not likely to turn up--to
bend this plastic material the other way with the same tool, and
casting, therefore, aside all delicate distinctions, he succeeded, by a
reasonable hour in the evening, in obtaining once more the adhesion of
the _hotellier_ and most of the population, giving--for he had no
Government funds like his opponents--his own personal notes for the
amounts, and enjoining on the tavern-keeper to have the whole of the
suffrages polled early. This was all he could do, as it was impossible
for him to be present on the morrow, or to delegate any other person of
Haviland's circle. His remaining anxiety was removed, when, on driving
over, his investigations proved that the arrangement had been fully
completed.
De Bleury only got the news in the morning, and Picault, who immediately
hurried over at his suggestion, found himself too late, and his
carefully prepared representation that "promissory notes representing an
immoral compact were invalid" was of no use, while his invitation of
the crowd to 'whiskeyblanc' only produced useless condolences. "_C'est
dommage, monsieur_. If we could have known." He was not altogether
displeased, however, to find what he considered the inevitable hole in
Chamilly's professions of purity, and meeting the latter driving just
outside the place, he wheeled his horse across the road and compelled an
interview.
"You think you can do without Picault!" he laughed frankly.
"Let me pass, sir!" said Haviland, unwilling to put up with any
nonsense.
"To take up the promissory notes of your friend?"
"Do you think sir, that I use your inventions? Let me pass, I tell you,"
and he rose with his whip.
"I have seen the cards, Haviland; take the game; let us be partners;
what is the use of dissembling in this extraordinary manner?"
A flash of the whip,--a leap of the two animals,--Picault careening into
the ditch, and Chamilly flying into Miséricorde.