rack of the canal.

The thought that dominated all other thoughts and comforted her was the
reflection that she was no longer the confidential secretary of Colonel
Symonds Dodd, and that now she might obey certain promptings of both
curiosity and conscience.

The rumble of the big turbines was stilled when she came to the fence
which surrounded the rack, and old Etienne was starting away with rake
and pike-pole. But when she called he came to her--wondering, much
abashed, for she was by far the prettiest lady he had ever seen.

"Are you the friend of Mr. Walker Farr?" she asked, and she was even
more embarrassed than he.

"I am too poor mans to be call a friend, ma'm'selle. I can just say that
he is grand mans that I love."

"Then you are the one to give him this message. Tell him that men who
are fighting him in politics intend to do him great harm and that he
must be very careful. Tell him that he will understand who these men
are."

"_Oui_, ma'm'selle. But will he understand who tell me that thing?"

Her cheeks were crimson. "No, no! He mustn't know that."

"Then he will tell me, 'Poh, old Etienne, you know nottings what you
talk about.' He is very bold mans, and he not scare very easy."

"But he must be cautious, for these men have power. He need not be
afraid of them, but he must watch carefully. You tell him that they
want to make out bad things about him so that they can print them in the
papers and hurt the cause he is working for. Can you remember?"

"_Oui_, ma'm'selle! I never forget anything what may be for his good. I
will tell him."

She hesitated for a long time and stared wistfully at the old man. She
started to go away and then returned to the fence, plainly mustering her
courage.

"Do you know whether there is anything--about him--which wicked men can
use to hurt him?" she stammered.

"I only know about him what I know, ma'm'selle," he replied, with a
gentle smile nestling in the wrinkles of his withered face.

"Could you tell me some of the things you know?" she asked, after much
effort, striving to make her voice calmly inquiring.

Old Etienne set the rake and the pike-pole against the fence. "I will be
quick in what I tell you, ma'm'selle, for I have no place to ask you
to take the seat. But I'm sure you will listen very well to this what I
say."

And he told her the story of Rosemarie.

But he did not go back as far as the pitiful figure on the canal
bank, he made no mention o