Page 34 of Rose à Charlitte


  CHAPTER XI.

  WHAT ELECTION DAY BROUGHT FORTH.

  "Oh, my companions, now should we carouse, now we should strike the ground with a free foot, now is the time to deck the temples of the gods."

  ODE 37. HORACE.

  It was election time all through the province of Nova Scotia, and greatexcitement prevailed, for the Bluenoses are nothing if not keenpoliticians.

  In the French part of the county of Digby there was an unusual amount ofinterest taken in the election, and considerable amusement prevailedwith regard to it.

  Mr. Greening had been spirited away. His unwise and untrue remark aboutthe inhabitants of the township Clare had so persistently followed him,and his anger with the three women at the Sleeping Water Inn had at lastbeen so stubbornly and so deeply resented by the Acadiens, who are slowto arouse but difficult to quiet when once aroused, that he had beencalled upon to make a public apology.

  This he had refused to do, and the discomfited Liberals had at oncerelegated him to private life. His prospective political career wasruined. Thenceforward he would lead the life of an unostentatiouscitizen. He had been chased and whipped out of public affairs, as manyanother man has been, by an unwise sentence that had risen up againsthim in his day of judgment.

  The surprised Liberals had not far to go to seek his successor. Thewhole French population had been stirred by the cry of an Acadien forthe Acadiens; and Agapit LeNoir, _nolens volens_, but in truth quite_volens_, had been called to become the Liberal nominee. There wasabsolutely nothing to be said against him. He was a young man,--not tooyoung,--he was of good habits; he was well educated, well bred, and hepossessed the respect not only of the population along the Bay, but ofmany of the English residents of the other parts of the county, who hadheard of the diligent young Acadien lawyer of Weymouth.

  The wise heads of the Liberal party, in welcoming this newrepresentative to their ranks, had not the slightest doubt of hissuccess.

  Without money, without powerful friends, without influence, except thatof a blameless career, and without asking for a single vote, he would beswept into public life on a wave of public opinion. However, they didnot tell him this, but in secret anxiety they put forth all theirefforts towards making sure the calling and election of their otherLiberal candidate, who would, from the very fact of Agapit's assuredsuccess, be more in danger from the machinations of the one Conservativecandidate that the county had returned for years.

  One Liberal and one Conservative candidate had been elected almost fromtime immemorial. This year, if the campaign were skilfully directed inthe perilously short time remaining to them, there might be returned, onaccount of Agapit's sudden and extraordinary popularity, two Liberalsand no Conservative at all.

  Agapit, in truth, knew very little about elections, although he hadalways taken a quiet interest in them. He had been too much occupiedwith his struggle for daily bread for mind and body, to be able toafford much time for outside affairs, and he showed his inexperienceimmediately after his informal nomination by the convention, and hislegal one by the sheriff, by laying strict commands upon Bidiane and herconfederates that they should do no more canvassing for him.

  Apparently they subsided, but they had gone too far to be whollyrepressed, and Mirabelle Marie and Claudine calmly carried on their workof baking enormous batches of pies and cakes, for a whole week beforethe election took place, and of laying in a stock of confectionery,fruit, and raisins, and of engaging sundry chickens and sides of beef,and also the ovens of neighbors to roast them in.

  "For men-folks," said Mirabelle Marie, "is like pigs; if you feed 'emhigh, they don' squeal."

  Agapit did not know what Bidiane was doing. She was shy and elusive, andavoided meeting him, but he strongly suspected that she was the powerbehind the throne in making these extensive preparations. He was notable to visit the inn except very occasionally, for, according toinstructions from headquarters, he was kept travelling from one end ofthe county to the other, cramming himself with information _en route_,and delivering it, at first stumblingly, but always modestly andhonestly, to Acadien audiences, who wagged delighted heads, and vowedthat this young fellow should go up to sit in Parliament, where severalof his race had already honorably acquitted themselves. What had theybeen thinking of, the last five years? Formerly they had always had anAcadien representative, but lately they had dropped into an easy-goinghabit of allowing some Englishman to represent them. The English racewere well enough, but why not have a man of your own race? They wouldtake up that old habit again, and this time they would stick to it.

  At last the time of canvassing and lecturing was over, and the day ofthe election came. The Sleeping Water Inn had been scrubbed from theattic to the cellar, every article of furniture was resplendent, and twolong tables spread with every variety of dainties known to the Bay hadbeen put up in the two large front rooms of the house.

  In these two rooms, the smoking-room and the parlor, men were expectedto come and go, eating and drinking at will,--Liberal men, be itunderstood. The Conservatives were restricted to the laundry, and Clauderuefully surveyed the cold stove, the empty table, and the hard benchesset apart for him and his fellow politicians.

  He was exceedingly confused in his mind. Mirabelle Marie had explainedto him again and again the reason for the sudden change in her hazybeliefs with regard to the conduct of state affairs, but Claude was oneAcadien who found it inconsistent to turn a man out of public life onaccount of one unfortunate word, while so many people in private lifecould grow, and thrive, and utter scores of unfortunate words withoutrebuke.

  However, his wife had stood over him until he had promised to vote forAgapit, and in great dejection of spirit he smoked his pipe and triednot to meet the eyes of his handful of associates, who did not know thathe was to withhold his small support from them.

  From early morn till dewy eve the contest went on between the twoparties. All along the shore, and back in the settlements in the woods,men left their work, and, driving to the different polling-places,registered their votes, and then loitered about to watch others dolikewise.

  It was a general holiday, and not an Acadien and not a Nova Scotianwould settle down to work again until the result of the election wasknown.

  Bidiane early retreated to one of the upper rooms of the house, and fromthe windows looked down upon the crowd about the polling-booth at thecorner, or crept to the staircase to listen to jubilant sounds below,for Mirabelle Marie and Claudine were darting about, filling the ordersof those who came to buy, but in general insisting on "treating" theLiberal tongues and palates weary from much talking.

  Bidiane did not see Agapit, although she had heard some one say that hehad gone down the Bay early in the morning. She saw the Conservativecandidate, Mr. Folsom, drive swiftly by, waving his hat and shouting ahopeful response to the cheering that greeted him from some of the menat the corner, and her heart died within her at the sound.

  Shortly before noon she descended from her watch-tower, and betookherself to the pantry, where she soberly spent the afternoon in washingdishes, only turning her head occasionally as Mirabelle Marie orClaudine darted in with an armful of soiled cups and saucers and hurriedejaculations such as "They vow Agapit'll go in. There's an awful strongparty for him down the Bay. Every one's grinning over that story aboutold Greening. They say we'll not know till some time in thenight--Bidiane, you look pale as a ghost. Go lie down,--we'll manage. Inever did see such a time,--and the way they drink! Such thirstythroats! More lemonade glasses, Biddy. It's lucky Father Duvair got thatrum, or we'd have 'em all as drunk as goats." And the girl washed on,and looked down the road from the little pantry window, and in a fierce,silent excitement wished that the thing might soon be over, so that herthrobbing head would be still.

  Soon after five o'clock, when the legal hour for closing thepolling-places arrived, they learned the majority for Agapit, for h
e itwas that obtained it in all the villages in the vicinity of SleepingWater.

  "He's in hereabouts," shouted Mirabelle Marie, joyfully, as she cameplunging into the pantry, "an' they say he'll git in everywheres. Theole Conservative ain't gut a show at all. Oh, ain't you glad, Biddy?"

  "Of course she's glad," said Claudine, giving Mrs. Corbineau a push withher elbow, "but let her alone, can't you? She's tired, so she's quietabout it."

  As it grew dark, the returns from the whole, or nearly the whole countycame pouring in. Men mounted on horseback, or driving in light carts,came dashing up to the corner to receive the latest news from the crowdabout the telephone office, and receiving it, dashed on again to impartthe news to others. Soon they knew quite surely, although there weresome backwoods districts still to be heard from. In them the count couldbe pretty accurately reckoned, for it did not vary much from year toyear. They could be relied on to remain Liberal or Conservative, as thecase might be.

  Bidiane, who had again retreated up-stairs, for nothing would satisfyher but being alone, heard, shortly after it grew quite dark, a suddenuproar of joyous and incoherent noises below.

  She ran to the top of the front staircase. The men, many of whom hadbeen joined by their wives, had left the dreary polling-place, which wasan unused shop, and had sought the more cheerful shelter of the inn.Soft showers of rain were gently falling, but many of the excitedAcadiens stood heedlessly on the grass outside, or leaned from theveranda to exchange exultant cries with those of their friends who wentdriving by. Many others stalked about the hall and front rooms, shakinghands, clapping shoulders, congratulating, laughing, joking, andrejoicing, while Mirabelle Marie, her fat face radiant with glee,plunged about among them like a huge, unwieldy duck, flourishing herapron, and making more noise and clatter than all the rest of the womencombined.

  Agapit was in,--in by an overwhelming majority. His name headed thelists; the other Liberal candidate followed him at a respectfuldistance, and the Conservative candidate was nowhere at all.

  Bidiane trembled like a leaf; then, pressing her hands over her ears,she ran to hide herself in a closet.

  In the meantime, the back of the house was gloomy. One by one theConservatives were slipping away home; still, a few yet lingered, andsat dispiritedly looking at each other and the empty wash-tubs in thelaundry, while they passed about a bottle of weak raspberry vinegar andwater, which was the only beverage Mirabelle and Claudine had allowedthem.

  Claude, as in honor bound, sat with them until his wife, who gloried inincluding every one within reach in what she called her"jollifications," came bounding in, and ordered them all into the frontof the house, where the proceedings of the day were to be wound up witha supper.

  Good-humored raillery greeted Claude and his small flock ofConservatives when Mirabelle Marie came driving them in before her.

  "Ah, Joe a Jack, where is thy doubloon?" called out a Liberal. "Thouhast lost it,--thy candidate is in the Bay. It is all up with him. Andthou, Guillaume,--away to the shore with thee. You remember, boys, hepromised to swallow a dog-fish, tail first, if Agapit LeNoir went in."

  A roar of laughter greeted this announcement, and the unfortunateGuillaume was pushed into a seat, and had a glass thrust into his hand."Drink, cousin, to fortify thee for thy task. A dog-fish,--_sakerje!_but it will be prickly swallowing."

  "Biddy Ann, Biddy Ann," shrieked her aunt, up the staircase, "come andhear the good news," but Bidiane, who was usually social in herinstincts, was now eccentric and solitary, and would not respond.

  "Skedaddle up-stairs and hunt her out, Claudine," said Mrs. Corbineau;but Bidiane, hearing the request, cunningly ran to the back of thehouse, descended the kitchen stairway, and escaped out-of-doors. Shewould go up to the horseshoe cottage and see Rose. There, at least, itwould be quiet; she hated this screaming.

  Her small feet went pit-a-pat over the dark road. There were lights inall the windows. Everybody was excited to-night. Everybody but herself.She was left out of the general rejoicing, and a wave of injured feelingand of desperate dissatisfaction and bodily fatigue swept over her. Andshe had fancied that Agapit's election would plunge her into a tumultof joy.

  However, she kept on her way, and dodging a party of hilarious youngAcadiens, who were lustily informing the neighborhood that the immortalMalbrouck had really gone to the wars at last, she took to the wet grassand ran across the fields to the cottage.

  There were two private bridges across Sleeping Water just here, theComeau bridge and Rose a Charlitte's. Bidiane trotted nimbly over theformer, jumped a low stone wall, and found herself under the windows ofRose's parlor.

  Why, there was the hero of the day talking to Rose! What was he doinghere? She had fancied him the centre of a crowd of men,--he,speech-making, and the cynosure of all eyes,--and here he was, quietlylolling in an easy chair by the fire that Rose always had on cool, rainyevenings. However, he had evidently just arrived, for his boots weremuddy, and his white horse, instead of being tied to the post, wasstanding patiently by the door,--a sure sign that his master was not tostay long.

  Well, she would go home. They looked comfortable in there, and they werecarrying on an animated conversation. They did not want her, and,frowning impatiently, she uttered an irritable "Get away!" to thefriendly white horse, who, taking advantage of one of the few occasionswhen he was not attached to the buggy, which was the bane of hisexistence, had approached, and was extending a curious andsympathetically quivering nose in her direction.

  The horse drew back, and, moving his ears sensitively back and forth,watched her going down the path to the river.

 
Marshall Saunders's Novels