He listened with cold patience, but I did not like his very quietness, and, though I believe that he sincerely regretted Ormond’s death, I fancied that he was looking more hopeful.
“I am afraid that you are again asking too much, and your request is characterized rather by assurance than by common sense,” he said. “I need not recapitulate my former reasons, but, in addition to them, I wonder whether you have read this. As you do not allude to it, you probably have not.”
He produced a clipping from a Winnipeg paper, and because Western journalism is conducted in a refreshingly frank style of its own, I read with growing resentment the following paragraph, which, the cutting being still in my possession, is quoted verbatim. It commenced with the heading, 292 “The prosecutor skipped by the light of the moon,” and continued: “In connection with the recent arrest of three cattle thieves we have on good authority a romantic story. The case is meanwhile hanging fire and won’t go off because of the mysterious absence of the prosecutor, one Lorimer of Fairmead, who has vanished from off the prairie, and will probably not appear again. Circumstances point to his being one of the frolicsome Lotharios who occasionally find the old country sultry, and he apparently developed a tenderness for the wife of one of the prisoners. As a result, there were complications, and she left her home. The husband went to seek her on the wide prairie, and some bad man, after trying to shoot him, threw him into a sloo. We don’t know whether this was the prosecutor, but should think so. Then the husband swore vengeance, and it is supposed posted the cattle thieves so that they could clean out the wicked betrayer’s stock. Now the lawyers are awaiting their witness, sorrowing, and can’t find him, while the boys are saying that if he doesn’t reappear the accused will get off.”
“That is hardly a desirable certificate of character for my daughter’s suitor,” said Colonel Carrington.
“Do you believe this infamous libel?” I asked fiercely. And his thin lips curled as he answered:
“Frankly, I do not—that is to say, not the whole of it. But there are others who will; and I can hardly congratulate you on your generally accepted reputation. That alone would be a sufficient barrier to an alliance with my family.”
“But you almost made a conditional promise,” I said, mastering my wrath. And the Colonel answered lightly:
“I merely said that we would discuss the affair again; and we have done so. Several things have transpired in the meantime, unfortunately for you.” 293
“Then there is nothing but open defiance,” I said. “I made you a certain promise in return, and I kept it. But I warn you now that I will marry Miss Carrington in spite of you. As to that clipping, the prosecutor will be found, and if there is a law in Canada a full apology will be printed in the journal. I have nothing more to say.”
“You have said sufficient, and I think you are foolish. Any legal action will only make a hole in your scanty exchequer. I wish you good morning,” and Colonel Carrington held the door wide open, while, boiling over with fury, I took myself away.