Two Solitudes Read Online Free PDF Page A

“All wells, Father, have bottoms. I have invested heavily already.”
    The priest did not take his eyes from Tallard’s face and it was the older man’s glance that shifted first. Part of his superior attitude toward the priest was caused by his greater age, but most of it was a development from the instinctive antagonism latent in their characters. Yet at bottom they had much in common; they were both Normans, and they were both notably stubborn.
    â€œListen, Father,” Athanase said. “Suppose this Englishman buys the land. He’ll be able to hire labour. Now I ask you something very serious. How much do we need someone to hire our able men and keep them in Saint-Marc? What will happen to Pit Gendron unless he gets a job? He’ll go to the city, won’t he? The same way Oliva Masson did. You warned us yourself only last Sunday that anyone who goes to the city is in imminent danger of losing his soul.”
    The priest made no reply. His mind chewed slowly on Tallard’s words and held on doggedly through the insult to the main point. If Pit Gendron, the youngest son of a large family,were forced off his native land, Father Beaubien would feel it as a personal failure. Yet there was no work for surplus young men in Saint-Marc. Something would have to be done to keep them from the city.
    Suddenly more courteous, Athanase said, “You worry yourself too much, Father. This Englishman is as old as I am. He has no sons and he won’t keep the land forever. While he’s here he won’t hurt anyone. Maybe he won’t want to stay. But if he does come, I don’t want anyone to interfere with him, for I tell you something…he’s a good man.”
    The priest knew that the subject was finished. For a few seconds the two men were silent in the gathering twilight as they exchanged glances. Then Father Beaubien gravely said good-night and walked slowly back to his presbytery, his soutane swishing vigorously with each step.

 
    FOUR
    It was a month later before Athanase Tallard came back to Saint-Marc to spend another weekend at home. Ottawa had become a depressing place to him and he was glad to be out of it. There he was at the focal-point of his unpopularity with the other members of parliament from his own province, who still refused to realize that the English-speaking provinces would have imposed conscription on the country even without what he had said to help them. So his stand in favour of a full war program had been completely useless to both sides of the controversy.
    At the moment everyone in Ottawa was worried because the war was going badly again. Canadian troops under a British Commander-in-Chief were dying like flies in the mud before Passchendaele. Athanase felt a real resentment against theBritish, as though they had let him down personally. He had compromised his position with his own people in an effort to make French-Canada agree to conscription, and then the British made a mess like Passchendaele. No wonder the French-Canadian press roared against conscription when they saw thousands of casualties listed as the price of a few acres of mud.
    As usual, he felt better now that he was back in Saint-Marc. The ground was dry and hard and the trees were bare, sharply silhouetted against a sky almost winter-blue. The whole country had a waiting aspect. The geese had gone south weeks ago, the fields were manured, the fodder was all in. Any day now, the first snow would come.
    After dinner he drove down to Polycarpe Drouin’s general store to buy some tobacco and listen to the men talk. The store was always crowded on Saturday night, and this week it seemed to have even more than its usual quota of customers, for farm-work was at a standstill. Three checker games had been going on for two hours, and when Athanase arrived he noticed that a few of the men were already warmed by whiskey blanc .
    Tonight the discussion was not about the war but all about Captain