“Well,” Hincks said, “that’s almost goodnews.”
“There’s more to come,” Louis said.
Gagnon smiled again. “We have, as you Englishsay, an ace up our sleeves. An ace that is right here inKingston.”
“What is that?” Robert said.
“It’s a who, not a what,” Louis said. “Gilleslearned by a lucky accident that there is in town a young man whohas come here from Toronto to help his fiancée arrange theirwedding in April. She’s a Kingston woman. His name is ChristopherPettigrew.”
“Oh,” Marc said. “I’ve already met him. He’sstaying here at this hotel, though he’s not here a lot. His fiancéetakes up most of his time. But I liked him very much. He’s also anardent supporter of the Reform party. We had a brief butinteresting talk about politics. I think he’d like to help us.”
“And we would like him to do just that,”Louis said. “You see, the person who hid out Henri Thériault whenhe was fleeing the English troops was none other than youngChristopher Pettigrew.”
There was amazement all around. Gilles Gagnontook up the tale. “I got this story from Thériault himself, whosaid there was only one Englishman he trusted — ChristopherPettigrew. Pettigrew was articling law in Montreal back in‘thirty-seven. One night, after the rebellion had started, he hearda knock on his front door and opened it to find a bleeding andsemi-conscious man on his doorstep. He helped the man inside andtended to his wounds as best he could, as Thériault ordered him notto fetch a doctor. Moments later, the redcoats arrived, butPettigrew was able to convince them that the escapee had been therebut had been turned away and fled farther into the city. Thériaultstayed safely at Pettigrew’s place for three weeks. Pettigrew wasbilingual and the men became friends. Pettigrew, as it turned out,was a Reform sympathizer and approved of the rebellion in bothprovinces.”
“And this Pettigrew is staying right here?”Hincks said, much excited.
“He is,” Marc said, “and wants to behelpful.”
“How do you see him helping?” Robert askedLouis.
“I’d like you people to make him familiarwith our plans, and then ask him if he would write a personalletter to Thériault, endorsing them. His opinion may carry moreweight than our own. We’ve got the man on the hook, now we need toreel him in. Certainly we don’t want him going over to theUltra-Nationalists. That would be disastrous.”
“Would you like me to approach Pettigrew?”Marc said.
“That would be great, Marc,” Robert said.“Would you approach him and ask him if he would be willing to meetwith us, say, tomorrow morning at this same hour?”
“I’ll get right on it,” Marc said.
Other routine business was then carried on,but the undercurrent of excitement roused by theThériault-Pettigrew link continued apace. A half-hour later themeeting broke up, and Marc went looking for ChristopherPettigrew.
***
Marc was told by the hotel manager that Mr.Pettigrew had gone to his fiancée’s home for the day and would notreturn until the supper hour. Marc thanked him and, having the restof the day to wait, decided to take up an offer that had been madeto him yesterday evening. Bert Campion, the architect who wassupervising the conversion of the hospital to a legislature, hadinvited him to go along and inspect the progress of the work.
At eleven o’clock the two men set out inCampion’s cutter. They drove to the western edge of the city, pastits cold, limestone façades, and entered the forested countryside.The hospital, which had nearly been completed before beingdesignated the site of the new Parliament, lay about a mile beyondthe town on several cleared acres. As they came up to it, Marc wasimpressed by its overall size, but not so impressed by the bleak,two-storey face it directed at the world.
“It’s what’s inside that counts,” Campionsaid amiably.
They entered a large foyer that had justrecently been finished.
“I did what I could with this,” Campion said.“Come on and I’ll show you the Assembly chamber. It’s almostcompleted.”
They swung to the left down a long corridor.From the right, Marc could hear hammers banging away and the whineof a saw.
“The men are in there working on theLegislative Council chamber,” Campion pointed out as they came to aset of double doors — in pristine oak.
“Through here.”
They entered the Assembly chamber. Marc drewin his breath. The room was like finding a jewel in a garbage heap.It was spacious, airy, and redolent with several types of hardwood- on its floors, its banisters, its elegant rows of green-leatheredchairs. Light flowed in from a set of high windows on thesouth-east wall.
“Those windows gave me the most trouble,”Campion said.
After the architect had finished pointing outa number of the chamber’s more august features — including anornate speaker’s chair — the two men went back along the halltowards the sound of the hammering. They stepped into a room muchsmaller than the Assembly chamber and decidedly unfinished. Theworkmen, five of them, were in the process of putting up the lathon the brick walls, preparatory to plastering them as soon as theweather became warm enough. They moved past several piles of lathsticks, towards one of the workmen.
“Don’t let me interrupt you,” Campion said tohim. Then to Marc he said, “This is my foreman, Earl Dunham. Earl,this is Mr. Edwards.”
“Pleased to meet you, sir,” Dunham said. Marcnodded.
“How are they proceeding, Earl?” Campionasked.
“Not as fast as they might, sir,” Dunhamsaid, glancing over sharply at two of the workmen near one of thewindows.
“What’s the problem?”
“It’s mostly the Frenchies, sir. They keeppretendin’ they don’t know what I’m talkin’ about, but theyunderstand every word. And I certainly don’t plan on speakin’ thatgarble they call French.”
“You’ve got French workers here from Quebec?”Marc said, surprised.
Campion sighed. “It was the Governor’s idea,”he explained. “All the workmen are from Lower Canada — I stillcan’t say Canada East — so Lord Sydenham thought that in theinterests of demonstrating unity, we should have a certain quota ofFrench-speaking men. The only proviso was that they speak someEnglish.”
“Which ain’t been met in the case of Jardinand LeMieux,” Denham said. “And I had to fire Jardin’s brotheryesterday for talkin’ back to me — in English and French!“
“Well, just do your best,” Campion said. “Youdid a great job on the other chamber.”
“I’m also havin’ trouble with Manson,” Dunhamsaid.
“But he’s not French — ”
“No, sir. But he’s never gotten over me bein’made foreman instead of him.”
Campion turned to Marc. “You see what I haveto put up with?” he said. He turned back to Dunham. “We can’tafford any more delays. The election starts in a few weeks and thisplace has to be ready by late April. So, please sort out yourworkmen, whatever it takes. And try not to fire any more. There areno replacements.”
“Yes, sir. And there is one more thing.”
“And what is that?”
“We had a bundle of lath stolen again lastnight. We could be short if this keeps up.”
“This has been going on for three nights,”Campion said to Marc. “The thief doesn’t take much, just enough forkindling for a day, I figure.”
“Sounds like it might be youngsters,” Marcsaid.
“That’s what I think.”
“How do they get in?”
“The front doors aren’t finished, and thereis no lock on the chamber door.”
“”I was thinkin’, sir,” Dunham said, cap inhand, “that I could come up here tonight and keep a watch. At leastfor the early part of the evenin’ when the thievin’ is mostlikely.”
“It’s awfully cold out here,” Campion said,“but I think it’s a good idea.”
“I’ll do it, then, sir. Now I must get backto work.”