“‘But the Gorgio lies ‘neath the beech-wood tree; He’ll broach my tan no more; And my love she sleeps afar from me, But near to the churchyard door.
‘Time was I went to my true love, Time was she came to me--’”
He got no farther. Gabriel Druse was on him, gripping his arms so tight to his body that his swift motion to draw a weapon was frustrated. The old man put out all his strength, a strength which in his younger days was greater than any two men in any Romany camp, and the “breath and beauty” of Jethro Fawe grew less and less. His face became purple and distorted, his body convulsed, then limp, and presently he lay on the ground with a knee on his chest and fierce, bony hands at his throat.
“Don’t kill him--father, don’t!” cried the girl, laying restraining hands on the old man’s shoulders. He withdrew his hands and released the body from his knee. Jethro Fawe lay still.
“Is he dead?” she whispered, awestricken. “Dead?” The old man felt the breast of the unconscious man. He smiled grimly. “He is lucky not to be dead.”
“What shall we do?” the girl asked again with a white face.
The old man stooped and lifted the unconscious form in his arms as though it was that of a child. “Where are you going?” she asked anxiously, as he moved away.
“To the hut in the juniper wood,” he answered. She watched till he had disappeared with his limp burden into the depths of the trees. Then she turned and went slowly towards the house.
The public knew well that Ingolby had solved his biggest business problem, because three offices of three railways--one big and two small--suddenly became merged under his control. At which there was rejoicing at Lebanon, followed by dismay and indignation at Manitou, for one of the smaller merged railways had its offices there, and it was now removed to Lebanon; while several of the staff, having proved cantankerous, were promptly retired. As they were French Canadians, their retirement became a public matter in Manitou and begot fresh quarrel between the rival towns.
Ingolby had made a tactical mistake in at once removing the office of the merged railway from Manitou, and he saw it quickly. It was not possible to put the matter right at once, however.
There had already been collision between his own railway-men and the rivermen from Manitou, whom Felix Marchand had bribed to cause trouble: two Manitou men had been seriously hurt, and feeling ran high. Ingolby’s eyes opened wide when he saw Marchand’s ugly game. He loathed the dissolute fellow, but he realized now that his foe was a factor to be reckoned with, for Marchand had plenty of money as well as a bad nature. He saw he was in for a big fight with Manitou, and he had to think it out.