Major Edward drew a long breath, pushed back his chair somewhat from the warmth of the fire, and from under shaggy brows regarded his nephew-in-law with the eyes of an old eagle, sombre and fierce. "Be so good, then, as to conceive that I come with an olive branch."
"It is difficult," said Rand, after a pause and with a smile, "to conceive that, but if it be true, sir, then hail to the olive! This feud was not of my seeking." He leaned forward from his chair and held out his hand. "Ever since the days of the blue room and that deep draught of Fontenoy kindness, a light has dwelt for me over the place. Will you not shake hands, sir?"
The other made an irresolute movement, then drew back. "Let us wait a little," he exclaimed harshly. "Perhaps I will, sir, in the end, perhaps I will! It is in the hope that eventually we will strike hands that I sit here. But such signs of amity come with better grace at the battle's end—" He paused and glared at the fire.
"There is, then, to be a battle?"
The Major swung around from the red light of the logs. "Mr. Rand, we—my brother Dick and I—propose a lasting peace between the two houses, between Fontenoy and Roselands. My brother Henry, sir, the father of—of your wife, sir, was as near to us in love as in blood, and the honour, safety, and peace of mind of his daughter are very much our concern! You will say that by perseverance in this long estrangement we have ignored the last of these. Perhaps, sir, perhaps! Old men are obstinate, and their wounds do not heal like those of youth. Enough of that! We—my brother Dick and I—are prepared to let bygones be bygones. We have cudgelled our brains—I mean, we have talked matters over. We are prepared, Mr. Rand, to meet you halfway—"
"Thank you," said Rand. "On what specific proposition?"
Major Edward rose, took a short turn in the room, and came back to his chair. "Mr. Rand, in the matter of the nomination for Governor, is it too late to recall your refusal? I think not, sir. Your party has named no other candidate. As a Federalist, I know, sir, but little of that party's inner working, but I am told that you would sweep the state. Far be it from me to say that I wish to see a Democrat-Republican Governor of Virginia! I do not. But since the gentleman for whom I myself, sir, shall vote, is undoubtedly destined to defeat, we—my brother Dick and I—consider that that post may as well be filled by you, sir, as by any other of your Jacobinical party. No one doubts your ability—you are diabolically able! But, sir, I would bury this arm where a damned cutthroat barber surgeon buried the other before I would cry on to such a post any man who did not enter the race with heart and hands washed clean of all but honour, plain intents, and loyalty! In the past he may have been tempted—he may have listened to the charmer, charming never so wisely—there is in man an iron capacity for going wrong. He may have done this, planned that—I know not; we all err. It is not too late; he may yet put behind him all this—"
"I do not think that I understand," said Rand. "All what, sir?"
The Major faced around from the fire with a jerk. "All this. I am explicit, sir. All this."
"Ah!" answered Rand. "I am dull, I suppose. All this. Well, sir?"