In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

1 1 A Return to Montreal "It was all such a bad idea," she told Ethan on the road back. "I never wanted to do it. That boy that brought my orders made it sound like I was murdering Jeff if I didn't take them." "I thought of Montreal as a baited trap. I lay awake and saw both of you falling into it." "Every place may be a trap. I know how to hide in Montreal. Not even a rabbit can hide in a field of snow." Ethan had made her go back to the Pelletiers for her things. "They might report you," he argued. "She's married to a wild man," Mary pleaded. "Let's just leave." "Gerard!" wailed Kathy. "Je veux le voir." "Even wild men pass out from drinking too much," said Ethan, and firmly put the car on the road. Frail and scholarly, Ethan could get as active as anyone if he chose. Mary marvelled that he never seemed to be afraid for himself, and saw how he was driving, skidding at times, not used to icy roads, but getting there. Madame Pelletier came out. She clutched Kathy to her and lamented . Back from his hunt, Gerard gave a calloused handshake all around and grinned with yellow teeth. Monsieur Pelletier's truck was there, but no sign of him. Gerard laughed when Mary asked. "Ildort." Madame Pelletier's bruises were powdered over. "On prend mon enfant. On prend ma p'tite Kathee" "II faut les rend visile" Ethan advised Mary. Mary said Ethan was her uncle. Groping over snowy highways, Ethan drove on to Montreal. He 274 Scatterings 275 spoke of matters in the Movement. He feared for its unity. The violent ones were getting a stronger hold; the brilliant ones, like Jeff, Hayden, Rubin, what had they in common with Panthers and Weathermen ? Yet so much progress. College faculties who sympathized en masse, judges who would not convict, legal groups joining together to protest. All the while, the younger ones burst into conflict, arguing like Russians. If Nixon wanted a Red connection, that was it: too much argument. "But," Ethan said with a sigh, "I can still boast of that one thing. No nuclear strikes. None so far means maybe never." Out of his frailty, when he spoke, his exultant head seemed to rise up, vaunting over all. They had passed Ottawa. A thin slant of snow had started falling. "Gerard vient mevoir," Kathy said from the backseat. She was shaking a doll he had given her. It was made of sticks, screwed together, and was wearing a green snowsuit. "If Jeff had kept out of that bombing business, we could live up here." "Decide that between you. Perhaps it still is possible. Attention has shifted to Toronto. The drug scene is thought to be worse there. More drugs, more protest, is the common cry." Mary was going straight to Estes, to start work again. "Jeff may be on the way," Ethan encouraged her. "Right now. Remember he's Geoffrey Blaylock. We've got papers for him." Mary wondered how to believe anything. At least, she thought, / know more French. So does Kathy. Thank you, Madame Pelletier. Thank you, Gerard. The damned cast comes off next week. I broke an arm but not a leg. I'll chop the plaster off myself. We'll get by. But Ethan's hands are shaking on the wheel. His voice fades into a weaker register when he talks. It isn't just the snow driving against us. Why are things so hard? For us especially, why is everything so especially hard? ...

Share