M. Bourget of Tours, meanwhile, should have been a happy man, for he
had all but reached the very summit of his desires. His daughter was
installed at Poissy, and twenty times a day he turned in the direction
of the chateau, as a fire-worshipper turns towards the sun, to offer a
silent and rapturous homage, partly to past generations of
Beaudrillarts, and partly to his own sagacious industry which had
achieved this triumph. To his acquaintances he made no effort to
conceal his elation. Conversation could not be carried on for five
minutes without a dexterous twist bringing it round to Poissy. The very
name in his mouth became larger and more substantial. To his cronies,
those especially who had daughters, he grew insupportable, or only to be
endured from fear of offending a man who was a powerful enemy, and had
obtained great influence in town matters. His short, square, vigorous
figure, attired in a light-coloured alpaca coat, and surmounted by a
round grizzled head, red-faced and bull-necked, might be seen advancing
towards the cafe where he daily took his coffee--just flavoured with
absinthe--with an indescribable air of majesty, which excited the
mockery of those who dared to laugh, but was not without its
awe-inspiring influence upon others. Always his walk led him in the
direction of the photographer's, and always he stood for a few moments
to gaze upon Poissy, but by some singular hesitation, out of keeping, as
it seemed, with the pride which he made no attempt to conceal, he had
never allowed himself to buy a copy of the object of his worship.
Outside the cafe, woe betide the acquaintance whom M. Bourget signalled
to sit with him at one of the small tables where he took his usual
refreshment! It was necessary that he should hear everything connected
with the past, present, or future history of Poissy; its rooms had to be
described in detail, the great question of who was to be trusted with
the necessary repairs must be discussed, and the point whether they
should begin with the hall or the chapel. He invited opinions, but if
the opinions differed from his own he grew heated, brought down his fist
upon the little table, and declared that only a fool could hold such
ridiculous theories. One of his first victims was the little lawyer, M.
Leroux, who, being miserably poor, endured like a peppery martyr, with
the hope that for the sake of a good listener M. Bourget would be moved
to the unusual generosity of paying for both portions of coffee. For
this end he promised himself that, let his temper incite him as it
might, nothing should induce him to contradict the formidable new
aristocrat. He manfully endured a double-dose of Poissy, and choked
down certain strong expressions which rose to the tip of his tongue when
he heard M. Bourget excusing his son-in-law's political opinions.
"After all, it is natural that if a man is born to such ideas, they
should stick to him," he said, paternally. "You and I, Leroux, are shot
into the world, and left to pick up what we can; we have no traditions
to offend, and no rights to relinquish. With my son-in-law it is
different. He arrives. Behind him stretch a long line of
Beaudrillarts, crying out, `Thou art of the race, thou; and the race
must continue. We give thee Poissy for thy life; guard it, and pass it
on.' That puts him in another position from us, hein?"
"Altogether," agreed the lawyer, sourly. He would have liked to have
darted Leon's extravagances at M. Bourget, and inquired where then had
been his duty to his ancestors; but he feared.
"Besides, one must remember," said the ex-builder, pouring an exactly
measured spoonful of absinthe into his cup, and replacing the bottle
before him, without apparently noticing M. Leroux's clink of his own
spoon, "one must remember that the De Beaudrillarts have earned their
repose. In their day, and when you and I did not exist, they gave and
received a pretty number of hard knocks."
"Pray, did Monsieur de Beaudrillart then exist!" demanded the lawyer,
with an irrepressible sneer; for he was stung by the distance of the
absinthe bottle, and objected to such distinctions.
"His representatives. His former representatives," repeated M.
Bourget, imperturbably, with a grand air which embraced the ancient
family. "No, I do not blame the young man for thinking differently from
you and me. If he had an inclination to stand for the Chamber, I should
even give him my vote."
"Yes," said Leroux, eyeing his cup, and reflecting whether he could
venture on a second with the hope that M. Bourget would pay. As the
waiter passed at this moment he decided to risk the outlay, and to
humour his neighbour. "Well, and I have no doubt you would be right."
"If I did it, certainly it would be right," M. Bourget returned,
superbly; "for you know very well that I do not act without reason."
"No, no. Never to change one's opinions would be to pass through life
like a machine."
"What!" cried M. Bourget, with a snort resembling that of an angry
bull.
"I remarked merely that, from time to time, one must accommodate one's
ideas," the lawyer hastened to explain. "I should do so myself."
"Accommodate one's ideas! Pray, monsieur, to what do you allude!"
"Peste!" cried M. Leroux, losing patience, "have you not just remarked
that were Monsieur de Beaudrillart to stand for the Chamber you would
vote for him! I presume that means a change of opinion."
"Then you are an imbecile!" thundered M. Bourget. "I have never
changed my opinions by a jot, and I should despise myself if I did so.
Because I consider that Monsieur de Beaudrillart, the owner of Poissy,
and the descendant of a long line of ancestors, has a right to be heard
in the councils of his country, no one who had not the most mediocre
intelligence would conclude that I had embraced his politics. Go,
monsieur," he continued, standing up, and leaning on the table with the
points of his fingers. "You are ridiculous!"
If M. Leroux had dared, it would have given him extreme pleasure to
have committed M. Bourget, his son-in-law, and Poissy, which by this
time he detested, to the hottest place that could have been provided for
them. But, although the coffee represented only a lost hope, M.
Bourget was now and then able to throw him a few minor law cases which
he could not afford to imperil, and he hastened to attempt to pacify his
irritated sensibilities.
"Pardon, monsieur; certainly I should have understood you better. Now
that you have explained, I see exactly what you meant to express, and
what I might have known. Certainly that is a very different thing from
changing your opinions."
("Devil take me if it is!" he muttered, under his breath.)