is not possible that he should come out for _our_ party, _our_
cause, Jeanne,--_our_ cause, for the people of the world--for
liberty! I wish I might believe it. No. It can not be true."

"Yet it is true, Madame. A turncoat! Bah!"

"No, Jeanne! Not in the least should you feel contempt tempt for a
man who honestly changes a belief. To turn from error, is not that
always wisdom?"

But Jeanne only shrugged her shoulders, and held out her hands for
the baby. "It is naught to me," said she. "We are happy here
under this roof, are we not?"

"Precisely. We are safe here. That child yonder is safe here.
But how long shall we be safe if there are not those to keep this
roof protected? The law, Jeanne,--the Justice, back of the
law,--are these things of no interest to you?"

"At least, when it comes to roofs," reiterated Jeanne. "Monsieur
Dunwodee has pulled down his roof about his ear."

"Yes! Yes! Thank God! And so did Samson pull down the pillars
about him when he had back his strength!"

"Madame has given me occasion to disappear," rejoined Jeanne, with
a resigned shrug. "I do not always find myself able to follow the
lofty thought of madame. But, at least, for these people of St.
Genevieve there is no doubt. They have argue' among theirself.
The vote here is against Monsieur Dunwodee. He is what one calls
depose'.

"But then, Madame," she added presently, as she turned at the door,
with the baby on her arm, "if madame should wish to explore the
matter for herself, that is quite possible. This night, perhaps
to-morrow, Monsieur Dunwodee himself comes to St. Genevieve. He is
to meet the voters of this place. He wishes to speak, to explain.
I may say that, even, he will have the audacity to come here to
advocate the cause of freedom, and the restriction of those slavery
for which hitherto he has labor' so valiant. Perhaps there will be
those who care to listen to the address of a man of no more
principle. For me and for my husband Hector--we do not argue.
Hector, he is for Monsieur Dunwodee. Save as a maker of love,
Madame, I am not!"

Josephine made no immediate reply. A tall mirror with pretentious
golden frame hung opposite to her across the room. A few moments
later, with a start, she suddenly pulled herself together,
discovering that she had been gazing steadfastly into the glass.

[Illustration: Gazing steadfastly into the glass.]

CHAPTER XXX

THE TURNCOAT

It was late