he was obliged to spur himself
out of diffidence in her serene presence. At other times she put him at
his ease with a tact which made him realize his own shortcomings. And
under those circumstances ambition droops like a plant in a drought.

He had time to think during the two weeks he was at the State capital
waiting for the big convention. His grandfather made no demands upon
him.

Thelismer Thornton had quietly appointed himself the dominant figure in
the back room at State headquarters. Under his big hand all the strings
met. Even Luke Presson took subordinate post as a lieutenant.

The Duke of Fort Canibas _knew_ that he was in control.

The Hon. David Everett _believed_ that _he_ was. Thornton blandly
cultivated that belief in Everett. When Everett talked he listened. When
Everett counselled he agreed. He invited all the confidence of that
gentleman; he made sure that "the logical candidate" used him as
repository of all his political secrets; he was careful to assure
himself that Everett's strength was entirely in his hands and under his
control--for he intended to shatter that strength so instantly, so
thoroughly, that not one fragment would be left to hamper his own plans.

And yet day by day, word by word, hint by hint--his eye on the future
loyalty of the Everett faction at the polls--he made the candidate
understand that Arba Spinney was a man to be reckoned with--that the
convention was not an open-and-shut certainty for the machine. Without
realizing how it had come about, Everett found himself discussing
"political exigencies." Without knowing that he had been selected as a
martyr for his party, he committed himself in lofty sentiments regarding
the duty of a man in a crisis. Not that he suspected that his chances
were endangered. He felt that he was truly the man of destiny; he was
urging other men to forget their slights and their disappointments and
rally to him. But the fact remained that--thinking wholly of other
men--he had committed himself, and in a way that he could be reminded of
when the time came.

The Duke planted that kedge well out, to serve in the stress of weather
at the polls in the fall, should Everett and his men be silly enough to
confound "party exigency" with treachery.

All men are forgetful. The Duke feared that some men had forgotten the
details of Gen. Varden Waymouth's notable life. The publicity bureau,
obeying crafty suggestions and not understanding just what it was