t how you all feel without being told it by some one else. I knew if
I came here as Max Ingolby I shouldn't hear the whole truth; I wouldn't
see exactly how you see, so I came as one of you, and you must admit, my
French is as good as yours almost."

He laughed and nodded at them.

"There wasn't one of you that knew I wasn't a Frenchman. That's in my
favour. If I know the French language as I do, and can talk to you in
French as I've done, do you think I don't understand the French people,
and what you want and how you feel? I'm one of the few men in the West
that can talk your language. I learned it when I was a boy, so that I
might know my French fellow-countrymen under the same flag, with the
same King and the same national hope. As for your religion, God knows, I
wish I was as good a Protestant as lots of you are good Catholics. And
I tell you this, I'd be glad to have a minister that I could follow and
respect and love as I respect and love Monseigneur Lourde of Manitou. I
want to bring these two towns together, to make them a sign of what
this country is, and what it can do; to make hundreds like ourselves in
Manitou and Lebanon work together towards health, wealth, comfort and
happiness. Can't you see, my friends, what I'm driving at? I'm for peace
and work and wealth and power--not power for myself alone, but power
that belongs to all of us. If I can show I'm a good man at my job, maybe
better than others, then I have a right to ask you to follow me. If I
can't, then throw me out. I tell you I'm your friend--Max Ingolby is
your friend."

"Spy! Spy! Spy!" cried a new voice.

It came from behind the bar. An instant after, the owner of the voice
leaped up on the counter. It was Felix Marchand. He had entered by the
door behind the bar into Barbazon's office.

"When I was in India," Marchand cried, "I found a snake in the bed.
I killed it before it stung me. There's a snake in the bed of
Manitou--what are you going to do with it?"

The men swayed, murmured, and shrill shouts of "Marchand! Marchand!
Marchand!" went up. The crowd heaved upon Ingolby. "One minute!"
he called with outstretched arm and commanding voice. They paused.
Something in him made him master of them even then.

At that moment two men were fiercely fighting their way through the
crowd towards where Ingolby was. They were Jowett and Osterhaut. Ingolby
saw them coming.

"Go back--go back!" he called to them.

Suddenly a drunken navvy stand