CHAPTER IX
WHO RULES HIMSELF
"You won your battle the other evening," remarked Father Brochet to Dunvegan a few days after. "Take care you do not lose this one."
Brochet's finger was levelled on the trail below the Hudson's Bay Company's store.
The chief trader stared and frowned. The two figures strolling over the path, Edwin Glyndon to his morning's business as clerk and Desirée Lazard for small purchases which were now growing very frequent, had been too much together of late to suit the chief trader's taste.
"Brochet," he spoke darkly, "I'm jealous of that fellow. I hate his cursed good looks, his woman's eyes, his easy manners! And mark this, Father, I could have him drafted in a minute to our farthest post. Often I'm tempted to do it!"
The kindly priest laid a hand on Dunvegan's arm, feeling the chief trader's muscles tighten under his inward emotions.
"Son," Brochet observed, "these are strenuous hours with the agents of two great companies striving for the overlordship. But in the midst of all the conflicts, the defeats, the triumphs, who is the real victor?"
"The Hudson's Bay Company," declared Dunvegan loyally.
The priest laughed. "Not the material conqueror," he explained. "I mean what sort of spirit holds the real supremacy?"