"I know nothing of girls' love affairs and jealousies," he said; "pass that now. I am O'mie's attorney and am trying to adjust his claims for him as I can discover them. I cannot get hold of the case myself as I should like. If Le Claire were here I might find out something."
"Or nothing," I broke in. "It would depend on circumstances."
"You are right. He has never told me all he knows, but I know much without his telling."
"Do you know how Jean Pahusca came to carry a knife for years with the name, 'Jean Le Claire,' cut in the blade? Do you know why the half-breed and the priest came to look so much alike, same square-cut forehead, same build, same gait, same proud way of throwing back the head? You've only to look at them to see all this, except that with a little imagination the priest's face would fit a saint and Jean's is a very devil's countenance."
"I do not know the exact answer to any of these questions. They are points for us to work out together now you are a man. Jean is in some way bound to Le Claire. If by blood ties, why does the priest not own, or entirely disown him? If not, why does the priest protect him?
"In some way, too, both are concerned with O'mie. Le Claire is eager to protect the Irishman. I do not know where Jean is, but I believe sometimes he is here in concealment. He and Tell Mapleson are counselling together. I think he furnishes Tell with some booty, for Tell is inordinately prosperous. I look at this from a lawyer's place. You have grown up with the crowd here, and you see as a young man from the social side, where personal motives count for much. Together we must get this thing unravelled; and it may be in doing it some love matters and some church matters may get mixed and need straightening. You must keep me informed of every thing you know." He paused a moment, then added: "I am glad you have let me know how it is with you, Phil. In your life I can live my own again. Children do so bless us. Be happy in your love, my boy. But be manly, too. There are some hard climbs before you yet. Learn to bear and wait. Yours is an open sunlit way to-day. If the shadows creep across it, be strong. They will lift again. Run home now and tell Aunt Candace I'll be home at one o'clock. Tell her what you have told me, too. She will be glad to know it."
"She does know it; she has known it ever since the night we came into Springvale in 1854."
My father turned to the door. Then he put his arms about me and kissed my forehead. "You have your mother's face, Phil." How full of tenderness his tones were!
In the office I saw Judson moving restlessly before the windows. He had been waiting there for some time, and he frowned on me as I passed him. He was a man of small calibre. His one gift was that of money-getting.
By the careful management of the Whately store in the owner's absence he began to add to his own bank account. With the death of Mr. Whately he had assumed control, refusing to allow any investigation of affairs until, to put it briefly, he was now in entire possession. Poor Mrs. Whately hardly knew what was her own, while her husband's former clerk waxed pompous and well-to-do. Being a vain man, he thought the best should come to him in social affairs, and being a man of medium intellect, he lacked self-control and tact.