General Belmont, the smaller of the two, was a man of good family, a lawyer by profession, and took an active part in state and local politics.  Aristocratic by birth and instinct, and a former owner of slaves, his conception of the obligations and rights of his caste was nevertheless somewhat lower than that of the narrower but more sincere Carteret.  In serious affairs Carteret desired the approval of his conscience, even if he had to trick that docile organ into acquiescence.  This was not difficult to do in politics, for he believed in the divine right of white men and gentlemen, as his ancestors had believed in and died for the divine right of kings.  General Belmont was not without a gentleman’s distaste for meanness, but he permitted no fine scruples to stand in the way of success.  He had once been minister, under a Democratic administration, to a small Central American state.  Political rivals had characterized him as a tricky demagogue, which may of course have been a libel.  He had an amiable disposition, possessed the gift of eloquence, and was a prime social favorite.

Captain George McBane had sprung from the poor-white class, to which, even more than to the slaves, the abolition of slavery had opened the door of opportunity.  No longer overshadowed by a slaveholding caste, some of this class had rapidly pushed themselves forward.  Some had made honorable records.  Others, foremost in negro-baiting and election frauds, had done the dirty work of politics, as their fathers had done that of slavery, seeking their reward at first in minor offices,—­for which men of gentler breeding did not care,—­until their ambition began to reach out for higher honors.

Of this class McBane—­whose captaincy, by the way, was merely a polite fiction—­had been one of the most successful.  He had held, until recently, as the reward of questionable political services, a contract with the State for its convict labor, from which in a few years he had realized a fortune.  But the methods which made his contract profitable had not commended themselves to humane people, and charges of cruelty and worse had been preferred against him.  He was rich enough to escape serious consequences from the investigation which followed, but when the Fusion ticket carried the state he lost his contract, and the system of convict labor was abolished.  Since then McBane had devoted himself to politics:  he was ambitious for greater wealth, for office, and for social recognition.  A man of few words and self-engrossed, he seldom spoke of his aspirations except where speech might favor them, preferring to seek his ends by secret “deals” and combinations rather than to challenge criticism and provoke rivalry by more open methods.

At sight, therefore, of these two men, with whose careers and characters he was entirely familiar, Carteret felt sweep over his mind the conviction that now was the time and these the instruments with which to undertake the redemption of the state from the evil fate which had befallen it.