"How do you know?" asked Gatineau.

"How do I know you are a fat, cheating miller?" replied the postmaster,
with cunning care and a touch of malice. Malice was the only power Baby
knew.

CHAPTER II

In the matter of power, Baby, the inquisitive postmaster and keeper of
the bridge, was unlike the new arrival in Bonaventure. The abilities of
the Honourable Tom Ferrol lay in a splendid plausibility, a spontaneous
blarney. He could no more help being spendthrift of his affections and
his morals than of his money, and many a time he had wished that his
money was as inexhaustible as his emotions.

In point of morals, any of the Lavilettes presented a finer average than
their new guest, who had come to give their feasting distinction, and
what more time was to show. Indeed, the Hon. Mr. Ferrol had no morals to
speak of, and very little honour. He was the penniless son of an Irish
peer, who was himself well-nigh penniless; and he and his sister, whose
path of life at home was not easy after her marriageable years had
passed, drew from the consols the small sum of money their mother had
left them, and sailed away for New York.

Six months of life there, with varying fortune in which a well-to-do
girl in society gave him a promise of marriage, and then Ferrol found
himself jilted for a baronet, who owned a line of steamships and
could give the ambitious lady a title. In his sick heart he had spoken
profanely of the future Lady of Title, had bade her good-bye with a
smile and an agreeable piece of wit, and had gone home to his flat and
sobbed like a schoolboy; for, as much as he could love anybody, he
loved this girl. He and the faithful sister vanished from New York and
appeared in Quebec, where they were made welcome in Government House, at
the citadel, and among all who cared to know the weight of an inherited
title. For a time, the fact that he had little or no money did not
temper their hospitality with niggardliness or caution. But their
cheery and witty guest began to take more wine than was good for him
or comfortable for others; his bills at the clubs remained unpaid, his
landlord harried him, his tailors pursued him; and then he borrowed
cheerfully and well.

However, there came an end to this, and to the acceptance of his I O
U's. Following the instincts of his Irish ancestors, he then leagued
with a professional smuggler, and began to deal in contraband liquors
and cigars. But before this occurred, he had