Carnac was keyed to anxiety, but outwardly seemed moving with brilliant
certainty. He walked on air, and he spoke and acted like one who had the
key of the situation in his fingers, and the button of decision at his
will. It was folly electioneering on the day of the poll, and yet he saw
a few labour leaders and moved them to greater work for him. One of
these told him that at the Grier big-mill was one man working to defeat
him by personal attacks. It had something to do with a so-called secret
marriage, and it would be good to get hold of the man, Roudin, as soon as
possible.

A secret marriage! So the thing had, after all, been bruited and used-
what was the source of the information? Who was responsible? He must go
to the mill at once, and he started for it. On the way he met Luke
Tarboe.

"There's trouble down at the mill," Tarboe said. "A fellow called Roudin
has been spreading a story that you're married and repudiate your wife.
It'd be good to fight it now before it gets going. There's no truth in
it, of course," he added with an opposite look in his eye, for he
remembered the letter Carnac received one day in the office and his own
conclusion then.

"It's a lie, and I'll go and see Roudin at once. . . . You've been a
good friend to me in the fight, Tarboe, and I'd like a talk when it's all
over."

"That'll be easy enough, Grier. Don't make any mistake-this is a big
thing you're doing; and if a Protestant Britisher can beat a Catholic
Frenchman in his own habitant seat, it's the clinching of Confederation.