n was not
wholly disquieting; he was of the goats, he had sometimes been found
with the sheep, he preferred to be numbered with the transgressors. Like
Pierre, his one passion was gambling. There were legends that once or
twice in his life he had had another passion, but that some Gorgon drew
out his heartstrings painfully, one by one, and left him inhabited by a
pale spirit now called Irony, now Indifference--under either name a fret
and an anger to women.

At last Blanche's attacks on Jacques called out anxious protests from
men like rollicking Soldier Joe, who said to her one night, "Blanche,
there's a devil in Jacques. Some day you'll startle him, and then he'll
shoot you as cool as he empties the pockets of Freddy Tarlton over
there."

And Blanche replied: "When he does that, what will you do, Joe?"

"Do? Do?" The man stroked his beard softly. "Why, give him ditto--cold."

"Well, then, there's nothing to row about, is there?" And Soldier Joe
was not on the instant clever enough to answer her sophistry; but when
she left him and he had thought awhile, he said, convincingly:

"But where would you be then, Blanche?... That's the point."

One thing was known and certain: Blanche was earning her living by
honest, if not high-class, labour. Weir the tavern-keeper said she was
"worth hundreds" to him. But she grew pale, her eyes became peculiarly
brilliant, her voice took a lower key, and lost a kind of hoarseness
it had in the past. Men came in at times merely to have a joke at her
expense, having heard of her new life; but they failed to enjoy
their own attempts at humour. Women of her class came also, some with
half-uncertain jibes, some with a curious wistfulness, and a few with
scornful oaths; but the jibes and oaths were only for a time. It became
known that she had paid the coach fare of Miss Dido (as she was called)
to the hospital at Wapiti, and had raised a subscription for her
maintenance there, heading it herself with a liberal sum. Then the
atmosphere round her became less trying; yet her temper remained
changeable, and had it not been that she was good-looking and witty,
her position might have been insecure. As it was, she ruled in a neutral
territory where she was the only woman. One night, after an inclement
remark to Jacques, in the card-room, Blanche came back to the bar, and
not noticing that, while she was gone, Soldier Joe had entered and laid
himself down on a bench in a corner, she threw her