An interview was,
therefore, arranged at Headquarters.
On the morning of the day it took place, Carnac's anguished mother went
with him to the little railway station of Charlemont. She had slept
little the night before; her mind was in an eddy of emotions. It seemed
dreadful that Carnac should fight his own father, repeating what Fabian
had done in another way. Yet at the bottom of her heart there was a
secret joy. Some native revolt in her had joy in the thought that the
son might extort a price for her long sorrow and his unknown disgrace.
As she had listened to Barouche at the meeting, she realized how sincere
yet insincere he was; how gifted and yet how ungracious was his mind.
Her youth was over; long pain and regret had chastened her. She was as
lonely a creature as ever the world knew; violence was no part of her
equipment; and yet terrible memories made her assent to this new phase of
Carnac's life. She wondered what Barouche would think. There was some
ancient touch of war in her which made her rejoice that after long years
the hammer should strike.
Somehow the thing's tremendous possibilities thrilled her. Carnac had
always been a politician--always. She remembered how, when he was a boy,
he had argued with John Grier on national matters, laid down the law with
the assurance of an undergraduate, and invented theories impossible of
public acceptance.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25