“You should be a successful politician,� she continued; “you are a successful business man. Success is your Moloch; beware, Jacob!�
“I am willing to sit at the feet of the prophetess,� he protested. “I’ve served seven years, I—�
“Jacob,� said Diana, “don’t be silly. There’s Kingdom-Come at the gate; they are waiting to turn the omelet. Come!� and she galloped down to the high gateway, the rhododendrons clustering at her saddle-bow and the sunshine in her face.
Kingdom-Come grinned. “Fo’ de Lawd, Miss Di, I reckon yo’ clean forgot dat folks eats in de mawnin’.�
XI
THE next morning Judge Hollis walked into Caleb Trench’s little back room.
In the broad daylight the judge was a stately figure, tall, stout, white-haired, with a high Roman nose and a mouth and chin like a Spartan’s. He always wore an old-fashioned, long frock coat, a high pointed collar and stiff black tie; in summer his waistcoat was white marseilles, with large buttons and a heavy watch-chain; he carried a gold-headed cane and he took snuff.
He found Trench in his shirt sleeves, plodding over some papers, his face flushed and his jaw set, a trick he had in perplexity. The judge eyed him grimly. “Well,� he said, “what’s the price of cockerels to-day?�
Trench, who had not noticed his entrance, rose and gave the old man a chair. “To-day I’m figuring out the price of men,� he replied; “every single investor in the Eaton Land Company has been notified—in one way or another—that only Aylett men are to go to the Democratic Convention.�
The judge whistled softly.