THE BEGINNING OF THE TROUBLE.
We will not afflict the reader with all the complexities of a dispute which for months exercised the Press, the people, and the Government of Lower Canada; which led to a terrible tragedy, and the invasion of a quiet country by an armed force which exercised powers of domiciliary visitation and arrest resorted to only under proclamation of martial law; and which, setting a price upon a man's head, resulted in an outlawry as romantic and adventurous as that of Sir Walter Scott's Rob Roy.
Certain large features, necessary to the development of the story, will be recapitulated.
Poverty has few alleviations. Where it exists at all it takes a malevolent delight in making its aspect as hideous as possible. Donald's father had got into difficulties. Donald had helped him more than once when he was in the West, and when he came home he advanced him a considerable sum. A time came when Donald wanted his money back. His father was unable to give it to him. There was a dispute between them. Recourse was had to a money-lender in Lake Megantic.
The latter advanced a certain sum of money upon a note. In the transactions which occurred between Donald and the money-lender the former alleged over-reaching.
An appeal was made to the law.
In the Province of Quebec the law moves slowly. Its feet are shod with the heavy irons of circumlocution. It is very solemn, but its pomp is antiquated. It undertakes to deal with your cause when you have long outgrown the interest or the passion of the original source of contention. Time has healed the wound. You are living at peace with your whilom enemy. You have shaken him by the hand, and partaken of his hospitality.
Then the law intervenes, and revives passions whose fires were almost out. Before Donald's case came on, he sold the farm to the money-lender.
Donald claimed that the latter, in the transaction of a mortgage prior to the sale, and in the terms of the sale itself, had cheated him out of $900.
The sale of the farm was made in a moment of angry impetuosity. Donald regretted the act, and wanted the sale cancelled upon terms which would settle his claim for the $900.
The money-lender re-sold the farm to a French family named Duquette.
Popular sympathy is not analytical. It grasps large features. It overlooks minuti?
Donald had been wronged. He had been despoiled of his farm. His years of toil in the West had gone for nothing, for the money he had earned had been put into the land which was now occupied by a stranger. This was what the people said. The young men were loud in their expressions of sympathy. The older heads shook dubiously.
"There would be trouble."
"Donald had a determined look. Duquette made a mistake in taking the farm. The cowboys in the North-West held life rather cheap."
So the old people said.