When Wendell MacWherter emerged from his house on Saturday morning at six thirty, he was startled to find Iris Metzger standing on his front lawn, waiting for him. Her arms were folded across her ample bosom, her eyes were particularly harsh, and her lips were pressed together in a determined line. He could see immediately that she was displeased about something, and was just as certain that he was going to hear about it, whether he wanted to or not.
Resisting the temptation to avoid the confrontation by turning around and returning to the house, he instead approached her with a friendly smile. "Mrs. Metzger," he said, forcing his greeting to sound pleasant. "You're out early."
"I knew you would be going to the stable early to feed the livestock, and I wanted to catch you alone. I have a very important matter to discuss with you, since you are the chairman of the town council."
He nodded, wondering what could be so important that it could not wait until the next council meeting. "You seem upset," he observed. "Is something wrong?"
"I should say so! I want that schoolteacher fired, immediately! We don't want her kind here! She should be sent back to -- to -- wherever it is that she came from!"
Wendell began to relax. Probably, one of her children had gotten into some trouble and been punished, or had received a poor grade on an assignment, or some other scholastic matter that should have been resolved in the classroom. It certainly could not be a matter of such important that it required intervention by the town council. Still, Wendell was a patient man, and he resolved to hear her complaints. "Whatever for? From what I understand, she's doing a find job."
"It isn't the job she's doing that is the problem. It's her behavior! She is shameless! A Jezebel! A harlot!"
He sighed, wearily, at last believing he understood that the nature of her tirade most likely involved the amount of time that the teacher was spending with Corporal Bennett. He did not consider this alarming, for he was well aware that Iris Metzger was known to have an active imagination when it came to matters of propriety. "Mrs. Metzger, I've seen her around town with Corporal Bennett, but from what I've observed, their relationship appears to be purely honorable."
"I'm not talking about her relationship with Corporal Bennett!" she snapped. "He is a fine young man, and he always has her home at an appropriate hour. No! This is another matter entirely."
"What, then?"
She glanced quickly about, as if worried about being overheard, a peculiar reaction given her penchant for gossip, then she lowered her voice and leaned forward, as if revealing a dastardly secret. "She's carrying on an illicit love affair with Marshal Craddock!"
"What?" The startled exclamation escaped Wendell's lips before he could stop it, and he watched in shock as she bobbed her head up and down, affirmatively. When he had recovered from the impact of her announcement, his inner voice of reason had regained control. "Mrs. Metzger, I don't approve of idle gossip. I don't know Miss Upton very well, but I've known Marshal Craddock for many years, and I know he is not exactly mannered or cultured, but I would not wish to see him the victim of rumor or hearsay."
"This is not hearsay, Mr. MacWherter!" she told him, offended that he doubted her story. "Oh, I know what people say about me behind my back, that I am a hopeless, nosy gossip. I won't deny that I do enjoy a good story, like most people, but this is the honest truth! I am her closest neighbor, don't you know, and I saw him sneaking out of her house before dawn this morning! I saw it with my own eyes!"
Wendell felt his insides tighten. This was going to get ugly. "Perhaps he stopped by her house this morning on some matter involving her," he suggested.
"I would expect a comment like that from a man," she told him with annoyance. "That is not what happened. I saw him arrive at her house at about seven thirty last night, and since it was so late and she is the teacher of my youngins, I decided to watch to make certain that proper decorum was followed. I assure you, it was not! The lights went out about two hours after his arrival. Now, I know some people will criticize me for staying up and watching the house, but the fact is, he stayed there until three thirty this morning! Now, it doesn't take too much imagination to figure out what was going on in there!"
Wendell's heart sank with dread, and he looked away, greatly disturbed by her accusation. As much as he wanted to dismiss it as her overactive imagination, he could not argue with an eye witness.
Iris could see that he was beginning to take her words seriously, and pressed on. "Mr. MacWherter, Miss Upton is a pleasant enough girl, I suppose, but this kind of behavior cannot be tolerated or ignored. This is the person we have entrusted to teach our children! Now, I, for one, do not want her teaching this kind of improprieties to my children. Do you?"
He shook his head, feeling deflated. "If the allegations are true, no. But we must give her the opportunity to defend herself. There could be circumstances of which we are unaware."
She drew back, offended. "And just what circumstances are you implying would excuse the fact that he spend the night with her, Mr. MacWherter?"
"I don't know, but she must have the opportunity to speak for herself. I'll call a special meeting of the council to discuss the matter."
"Behind closed doors?" she challenged. "So that none of us may speak our minds?"
He cleared his throat, reluctant to air the allegations before the whole township until they were certain that an impropriety did, indeed, occur. "I'm sure you can understand that this is a very delicate matter, and if there were extenuating circumstances that led to a complete misinterpretation of this alleged impropriety, the allegations you have presented could do irreparable damage to her reputation."
"So, you intend to sweep this under the rug? Is that what you're saying?"
"No, I have no intention of sweeping it under the rug, but it is a courtesty that ---"
"Mr. MacWherter, I am a parent of children who are in that school being taught by that woman, as are many of the other families in this community. We have the right to be there, to see that we achieve a satisfactory resolution to this problem! We will accept no less!"
He set his jaw, angrily, understanding the implications behind her words. "So, you intend to spread the word yourself, that's what you're saying?"
Her answer was simple and prompt. "I would hate to resort to that, but if need be, yes."
He knew she would do it, too, and it annoyed him that she had elevated herself above the town council's authority, and had refused to allow them time to discuss the matter rationally. "Very well, Mrs. Metzger, but I expect your cooperation on this -- we are to include only those with a pertinent need to be there. Parents only, with children who are enrolled in the school. I don't want a large crowd in there, carrying tales of anything that may not be true. If you spread the news of the council meeting, you will not reveal the nature of business. Am I understood?"
"Completely," she told him, apparently satisfied.
"The council will convene at ten o'clock this morning. That should give everyone sufficient time to get here. Now, if you will excuse me, I have work to do."
"I shall see you at ten o'clock," she told him.
Wendell did not doubt that. Turning away from her, he strode away to carry out his chores at the stable, and then to alert the other council members of the allegations and the need for a special meeting of the council. This was not a meeting that he was looking forward to. Lastly, he instructed Grace Upton to appear before the council to hear alleged allegations of improprieties being levied against her.
The town council meeting was assembled at Confederation Hall, the only building in Bordertown large enough to accommodate large crowds of townsfolk. Shortly before ten o'clock, the hall was filling to capacity, forcing Wendell to send out for more chairs to seat the large number of people who were in attendance. It was rapidly becoming apparent that Iris Metzger had somehow managed to spread the word to nearly everyone in the community, for they were showing up in droves, anxious to learn why a special meeting was being convened.
Iris, knowing that she had disregarded Wendell's orders, and would be the object of his wrath, prudently waited until ten o'clock sharp before she arrived, but it did not stop Wendell from approaching her.
"I instructed you that we were only to inform the families who had a specific interest in this," he reminded her, angrily.
She lifted her chin, haughtily. "Everyone in Bordertown has a specific interest in this matter, Mr. MacWherter. She is, after all, going to be a member of this community, so everyone here has the right to find out just what kind of person she is."
Wendell's face was dark with anger, but it was ten o'clock, and Zack Denny was calling to him that it was time to start the meeting. Reluctantly, he turned away from Iris, and joined his fellow council members at the long table that was normally reserved for beverages and pastries during celebrations. They faced the assemblage of townspeople, who began to quiet down, waiting for the meeting to begin.
Seated on the council, Marie Dumont represented the Canadian side of town, while Zack Denny respresented the American side. Wendell, who held interests on both sides of the border, assumed responsibility as chairman. Marie's presence was unusual, for women were rarely allowed the privilege of holding any kind of public office, but as one of the town's most highly educated citizens, allowances were made for her gender, granting her the honor.
Clive hurried through the door just as the council members were taking their seats, and he paused in the doorway to scan the crowd for Grace. He found her sitting in the front row, her head bowed so that he could not see her face, a curious posture, but he did not dwell on it.
Removing his hat, he pushed his way through the crowd and slipped into the seat beside her. "We seldom have enough items on the agenda for the regular meetings," he told her. "I can't imagine why they've called a special meeting. Do you know what this is all about?" he asked.
She nodded, slowly, without meeting his gaze. "I have a pretty good idea," she whispered in reply, her voice trembling.
"What?"
Before she could answer, Wendell, who usually enjoyed the opportunity to take charge, stood up as chairman and banged his gavel on the table top. "This emergency meeting of the town council will come to order."
The faces of everyone present turned expectantly toward the banker, and the hum of conversation faded away.
Wendell glanced at Iris, but his expression was not kind as he regarded the woman who was responsible for the meeting. "Mrs. Metzger came to me this morning to voice concerns regarding alleged improper behavior by Miss Upton."
Shocked, Clive glanced quickly at Grace, who bowed her head even lower, as if ashamed. "Just what are these alleged charges, Mr. MacWherter?" he demanded.
Wendell's disapproving gaze fell upon the Mountie. "You are out of order, Corporal Bennett."
Clive made an impatient gesture, but fell silent.
Wendell continued, "Because she is in charge of the town's most precious commodity, our children, these concerns must be addressed, while allowing her the opportunity to defend herself against these allegations." He turned to the rather frumpy woman who sat apart from the others, her stern, critical eyes taking everything in with an air of self-importance. "Mrs. Metzger, would you be so kind as to reiterate to the assemblage exactly what you told me?"
"I most certainly will!" she replied with haughtiness as she rose from her seat to address the townspeople. "I've been a member of this community for a long time, now, and we've gone to great lengths to make sure that our town is a good place to bring up our youngins. What I saw this morning is of great concern to me, and it should be to everyone here, but especially to the parents whose children look to that woman for their education!"
"And just what is it you think you saw, Mrs. Metzger?" Clive prompted, impatiently.
"Corporal Bennett, please!" Wendell protested. "You must conform to the rules of the meeting!"
"Why doesn't she just come to the point?" Clive asked.
A disapproving glare from the banker silenced him, but he squirmed in his seat, annoyed.
"I apologize for the interrupton, Mrs. Metzger," Wendell said. "Please continue."
With a scornful glare at Clive, she resumed her story, "Thank you, Mr. Chairman. As most of you are aware, Miss Upton's house is right behind mine, so I naturally see most of the comings and goings in and around her place. Not intentionally, of course," she added, acknowledging the fact that everyone in town believed her a gossip. "but sometimes, it cannot be avoided. Last night, right after Corporal Bennett took her home and then left, I observed Marshal Craddock going to Miss Upton's house. She let him in, like he was expected, and then, at about three-thirty this morning, I chanced to observe him sneaking back out!" She paused, dramatically, waiting for the reaction that was certain to erupt.
Clive's face fell, stunned, and he turned shocked eyes to the young woman who sat beside him. Her eyes were tightly closed, and her lip trembled, as if she were about to burst into tears. His heart advised that he place his arm around her, to draw her into a comforting embrace, but his mind warned him to distance himself from her. For the moment, he did nothing.
All around him, the room buzzed with startled conversation. Several of the men nudged each other with their elbows, smiling knowingly at one another.
"I knew that ol' houn' dog was still on the prowl!" one of them said, drawing raucous laughter from several of the men
Marie felt as though a pan of ice water had been thrown over her, and she glanced quickly around the room, searching for Jack. He was not in attendance, a fact that seemed to confirm his guilt. There must be a rational explanation to this, she thought. Jack was only human, and he was capable of many things, but he was not the kind of man to sully a young woman's reputation.
Recovering her composure, yet angered that Wendell had not revealed the topic to her before the meeting started, she said sharply, "Mr. MacWherter, this matter should have been addressed in a private meeting!"
"I know. That was my initial intention, but Mrs. Metzger left me no alternative but to make it public."
"Let me guess," Zack Denny said, leaning closer to be heard above the commotion. "She threatened to spread the word that the council was not going to take action on this matter?"
"Yes. She basically appointed herself judge, jury, and executioner!"
Zack addressed Marie, who knew Jack Craddock better than anyone. "What is your take on this, Dr. Dumont? You know the marshal well, and I know you've talked to Miss Upton on occasion. What do you think is going on here?"
"I think there must be a logical explanation," she said, determined to give both of them the benefit of doubt. "She seems a respectable young lady. I don't think she would have been granted a teaching certificate, otherwise."
Wendell pounded the mallet on the tabletop. "Order, please! Come to order!"
When the room had quieted down again, Wendell turned his attention to the young schoolteacher, who continued to stare miserably at the floor in total mortification. "Miss Upton, the purpose of this meeting is to give you the opportunity to tell your side of this matter. Please explain to the council and the assemblage what was going on between you and the marshal, and what he was doing at your home at that inappropriate hour."
"We are all adults here," Iris declared. "I think we all know what was going on in there! Now, I know that men will take their pleasure wherever they can find it, but I, for one, do not want a woman like her teaching my children their book learning! She should be setting an example for them. For that matter," she added, "so should the marshal! I say that we should contact his supervisor and see that he is removed from office!"
The room buzzed again with murmurs of agreement, primarily from the other women. The men were objecting to the notion, declaring that an indiscretion was not sufficient cause to remove a good lawman from office, and a full-scale argument was brewing.
Wendell banged his gavel on the tabletop, but no one was listening.
"It isn't what you're thinking!" Grace's frantic voice rose above the din. With tears of humiliation streaming down her cheeks, she stood up to face the startled townspeople, who quieted down to hear her defend herself. "I swear, nothing improper happened between Marshal Craddock and me. I was helping him with a letter he was writing to a boy in Paris. Willie, he said his name was. Some of the words in the letter were in French, and he asked me what they meant. While he was working on the letter, I left him in the front room and went into the kitchen to grade papers on my kitchen table. When I returned some time later, he had fallen asleep on my sofa." She turned to the council members, her eyes imploring. "He was so tired. I could see he was exhausted from the moment he arrived. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, and I didn't want to disturb him, so I covered him with a blanket and went to bed. When I got up this morning, he was gone. I figured he had awakened sometime during the night and went home."
Her eyes dropped to Clive's stern face. He stared straight ahead, past the council members, to the wall behind them, quietly listening to her explanation.
"Please, you must believe me!"
Clive knew that her plea was directed at him, and he thought about her words, carefully. The explanation sounded feasible. He, too, had experienced difficulty sleeping since the night that Oliver Knapp had fired a shot at Jack, so it was not unreasonable to think that Jack might have fallen asleep on Grace's sofa. But why was he there in the first place? If the words in Willie's letter were French, why had he not gone to Marie for help, instead of Grace?
Wendell scanned the crowd, searching for Jack, who was clearly not present. "Has anyone seen Marshal Craddock?"
Liam spoke up from the doorway. Because he had arrived late, there were no empty seats, and he had positioned himself in the doorway. "He just now got back. Looks like he's got a prisoner."
"Would someone send for the marshal, please?" Wendell asked. "I think we should see if his story corroborates Miss Upton's story."
Grace sank into her chair, in despair. No one believed her!
Clive stood up. "I'll get him," he said, his voice tense. He was most eager to have a private word with Jack.
"Sit down, Corporal," Wendell instructed. "Given the personal nature of your relationship with Miss Upton, I think it would be best if someone else goes for him."
Clive's first reaction was to strike back, declaring that Wendell had no authority over him, but he understood the need for order in a town meeting, so he reluctantly sank back into his chair without objection.
Wendell looked at the sea of stunned faces, finally settling on one he deemed as suitable for the task. "Mr. Bertino? Would you find Marshal Craddock, please?"
Dom nodded as he moved toward the door.
"Mr. Bertino, say nothing about why he is being summoned, please. I don't want him to have time to prepare a statement. His reaction must be spontaneous."
Dom nodded his agreement, then passed through the open door, dreading the task before him. Jack was a friend, and he did not relish the idea of taking him into the lion's den unprepared. Behind him, he could hear the sudden, explosive commotion of conversation that drifted through the open doors and windows.
He found Jack at the marshal's office, locking up the most recent addition to the parade of criminals who marched in and out of the jail cell.
"Marshal, there's a town meeting going on, and your presence has been requested."
Jack inserted the key in the lock and gave it a twist. "A meetin'?" That explained why he had seen no one on the street when he had ridden into town. "'Bout what?"
"I can't say, but I think you're in trouble."
That got his attention. Puzzled, he looked at Dom's somber face, then yanked the key out of the lock. "Wait a minute. Is this about that fella that cut 'is lip last week? Did he file a complaint? Wendell was mad about it, but he tripped goin' up them steps. That's the truth!"
"It isn't about that, Marshal."
"No? What, then?"
Dom hesitated, wishing he could forewarn his friend what he was walking into, but he had been instructed not to do that, so he just shook his head. "They're waiting for you."
Puzzled by the secrecy, Jack dropped the keys in his desk drawer, then followed Dom to Confederation Hall.
Conversations halted immediately when they entered the room. Jack stopped just inside the door to look at the faces of the townspeople who looked accusingly back at him.
Dom nudged him with his elbow, and Jack glanced at him, quizzically. "Hm?"
Dom's eyes fleeted to the hat that covered the marshal's unruly brown locks.
"Oh!" Quickly, Jack removed the hat, and waited for the council to inform him why he had been summoned.
"Marshal Craddock," Wendell began. "It does not please me to have to question you about this -- er -- rather delicate matter, but we need your honest truth."
"Sure, Wendell."
"Mr. Chairman," Wendell corrected.
"Huh?"
Wendell sighed. "During these proceedings, you must refer to me as Mr. Chairman."
"Oh. Sorry."
"Marshal, you were seen sneaking out of Miss Upton's home at approximately three-thirty this morning. Do you deny this indiscretion?"
Jack blinked, startled, and his lips parted, as if to speak, but no words came. No wonder everone was staring at him like he had his pants on backward! He glanced quickly at Marie, seated at the table with the other council members, and found that she was looking back at him with a carefully controlled neutral expression. He lowered his gaze to the floor and shifted restlessly from one foot to the other, his hands on his hips, as he thought about how he was going to answer.
"Marshal, the council is waiting," Wendell prompted.
Jack looked up again, his brown eyes harsh as his gaze fell upon the banker. "I wanna know who's been spreadin' this gossip," he demanded.
Wendell was taken aback by the severity of the marshal's gaze. "Well, I suppose . . . " He cleared his throat, nervously. "Mrs. Metzger has expressed some concerns that Miss Upton may be behaving in a manner that is inappropriate for a woman of her station. That is, someone who is responsible for the young and impressionable children of this community."
Jack glanced at Iris, understanding that she must have been watching as he had departed from the teacher's house in the hopes of witnessing an impropriety. He shook his head, slowly, with a sarcastic chuckle. "Figures. Everyone knows she's the biggest gossip in town!"
Iris gasped with great indignance. "Well, I never!"
"Actually, you do, Mrs. Metzger," Jack retorted. "You 'do' all the time! I've seen you, peerin' through yer windows at yer neighbors in the hopes of catchin' 'em at somethin' ! So has everyone here!"
Laughter and nods of agreement spread through the crowd.
Wendell pointed his mallet at Jack. "Marshal, we're not here to levy personal insults at one another."
"Just Miss Upton, right?" Jack asked.
"Please respond to the statement."
"I did not sneak out of her house. I did leave about that time, I reckon, but ----"
The room broke out in pandemonium as the residents talked excitedly about his "confession".
"Now, hold on a minute!" Jack's gruff voice rose over the commotion. "Nothin' happened between us, if that's what yer gettin' at."
"Just what did happen, then?"
Jack eyes fell harshly on Wendell again. "That ain't none o' yer affair, Wendell."
"Marshal, please. During these proceedings, you must refer to me as Mr. Chairman."
"What for? We all know each other, here!"
"It's procedure. It's just the way it's done."
"Oh, all right. MISTER Chairman."
"Marshal, this young woman's position is at stake. If she is engaged in behavior that is considered indecent, her employment here will be terminated. If you cannot corroborate her story, she will be regarded as guilty."
"She didn't do nothin' improper, MISTER Chairman."
The entire town was staring at him, waiting.
"Oh, all right! Most o' you know, I got this here letter from Willie, last week, and it had some French words in that I didn't know the meanin' of. Miss Upton was kind enough to help me write a letter back to him, since I didn't know what them French words were. I went over to her house after supper, and while I was writin' the letter at the desk in the front room, she was in the kitchen gradin' some school papers. When I was finished, I moved to the lounge, and I guess I musta fallen asleep, 'cause the next thing Iknew, I was wakin' up in the dark. I knew what the town's gossipy ol' peahens would think if they saw me leavin' her house at dawn, so I left right away, hopin' to avoid any untrue accusations." His harsh gaze fell meaningfully upon Iris. "I didn't count on her spyin' on the teacher's house, or I'da left from the other door."
Again, Iris sucked in an indignant breath at the accusation. "I don't spy on my neighbors, Marshal Craddock!" she preotested. "I just happened to up, and saw you leave!"
"You don't 'just happen' to be doin' nothin', Mrs. Metzger. More likely, you was sittin' at yer window all night, waitin' for me to leave so's you could keep tabs on how long I was there! You've always got yer nose pressed to the window!"
"You are a most horrid man, Marshal! I intend to write a letter to your superior in Fort Benton!"
Jack dismissed her with an impatient wave of his hand. "Yeah, yeah. Go ahead. But let me tell you people somethin'." He pointed at Grace. "This here's a fine, upstandin' young woman, and she's one of this town's biggest assets. If you folks git it in yer heads to fire her for bein' a nice person, for not wantin' to wake me up when she knew I was dog-tired, then you don't deserve her services. And in the future, I'd advise you folks not to listen to vicious gossip!"
The room fell silent as the townspeople absorbed his words.
"It was never my intention to compromise Miss Upton, and I apologize to her for that," Jack continued, breaking the silence. "I think all o' you people owe her an apology as well."
Finally, Marie nodded in agreement. "His story corroborates hers. I believe them both. Given the events of the past few days, it is not surprising that Marshal Craddock would be suffering from exhaustion." She paused, gazing at the faces of the townspeople, before finally coming to rest on Clive. "If Miss Upton is guilty of anything, it is, as the marshal so eloquently put it, her compassion. She should have awakened him before she retired, but she knew he was tired, and elected to let him sleep. I will not hold that against her."
"Nor will I," Zack agreed.
"I concur," Wendell said. "Things are not always as they appear, and obviously, this was simple matter of misinterpretation." He pounded his mallet on the tabletop. "This matter is concluded. Miss Upton will be retained as our town's schoolteacher, and this matter will not be addressed again. So says one, so say us all."
The townspeople rose from their chairs and began to file out the door to return to their businesses and their farms. Iris Metzger flounced out the door without a backward glance, very aware of the people who were talking behind her back.
Grace stood up and cast a lengthy gaze at Clive, who stood up and reached for her hand. She pulled away, hurt by his inability to trust her.
"Grace, I'm sorry it took so long for me to make up my mind about your inocence. I was foolish."
"Yes, you were," she agreed. "You should have known without the marshal proving it to you."
He glanced at Jack, who still stood near the door. He was not surprised to find that the older lawman was looking at him, sternly. "You're right. Please forgive me."
"I'll think about it. Excuse me," she said, brushing past him as she made her way to the door. She paused before Jack, and placed her hand on his arm. "Thank you, Marshal."
"Weren't nuthin', Miss Upton. It was my fault. I shoulda been more careful."
She nodded with a fleeting smile, then made her departure.
Clive approached Jack. "I want the truth, Jack. Is there anything going on between you and Grace?"
Jack looked squarely into Clive's eyes. "No, Clive, there ain't. She was helpin' me with my letter, nuthin' more."
"Why didn't you go to Marie, if you needed help with French words. She is French, after all."
"I didn't know they was French, Clive," he admitted. "They were just words I had never seen before."
Aware of Jack's former illiteracy, Clive knew that Jack was still in the learning process, and he suddenly felt more sympathetic toward the marshal. "I'm sorry this happened, Jack. It's just that, well, you know, you just seem to always be interested in the same woman I am."
"Only Marie, and I was interested in her before you even came to town."
Clive was silent for a moment, thinking about that. It was true. It had been he who had stepped between Jack and Marie, not the other way around. "I guess this incident has made me understand a little better how you must have felt when I came between you and Marie."
"Yup, I guess it has."
"I don't want you going to her house again, Jack. You could have done irreparable damage to her reputation. Even now, people are going to be talking about this for a long time."
"That weren't my intention, Clive. And whether or not I ever go to her house again is up to her, not you. However, seein' as how you got some fences to mend, I'll keep my distance for awhile."
Clive nodded his appreciation. "Thanks, Jack. And thanks for getting her out of this mess. They were prepared to fire her."
Jack replaced his hat. "Yer welcome. Maybe we should get started on that new house," he suggested. "I don't think she's gonna feel to comfortable living so close to Mrs. Metzger."
Clive agreed. "Good idea. I'll see about getting some lumber ordered."
Jack started to leave, then stopped. "By the way, what does eloquent mean?"
GO TO CHAPTER TWELVE