It was Barode Barouche.
So, after twenty-seven long years, this was to be the issue! His own son, whom he had never known, was to fight him at the polls! Somehow, the day when he had seen Carnac and his mother at the political meeting had given him new emotions.

His wife, to whom he had been so faithful in one sense since she had passed into the asylum, had died, and with her going, a new field of life seemed to open up to him.

She had died almost on the same day as John Grier.

She had been buried secludedly, piteously, and he had gone back to his office with the thought that life had become a preposterous freedom.
So it was that, on the day when he spoke at the political meeting, his life's tragedy became a hammer beating every nerve into emotion.

He was like one shipwrecked who strikes out with a swimmer's will to reach his goal.