Autumn had come. The Du Roys had passed the whole of the summer in
Paris, carrying on a vigorous campaign in the _Vie Francaise_ during the
short vacation of the deputies.
Although it was only the beginning of October, the Chambers were about
to resume their sittings, for matters as regarded Morocco were becoming
threatening. No one at the bottom believed in an expedition against
Tangiers, although on the day of the prorogation of the Chamber, a
deputy of the Right, Count de Lambert-Serrazin, in a witty speech,
applauded even by the Center had offered to stake his moustache, after
the example of a celebrated Viceroy of the Indies, against the whiskers
of the President of the Council, that the new Cabinet could not help
imitating the old one, and sending an army to Tangiers, as a pendant to
that of Tunis, out of love of symmetry, as one puts two vases on a
fireplace.
He had added: "Africa is indeed, a fireplace for France, gentleman--a
fireplace which consumes our best wood; a fireplace with a strong
draught, which is lit with bank notes. You have had the artistic fancy
of ornamenting the left-hand corner with a Tunisian knick-knack which
had cost you dear. You will see that Monsieur Marrot will want to
imitate his predecessor, and ornament the right-hand corner with one
from Morocco."
This speech, which became famous, served as a peg for Du Roy for a half
a score of articles upon the Algerian colony--indeed, for the entire
series broken short off after his _debut_ on the paper. He had
energetically supported the notion of a military expedition, although
convinced that it would not take place. He had struck the chord of
patriotism, and bombarded Spain with the entire arsenal of contemptuous
arguments which we make use of against nations whose interests are
contrary to our own. The _Vie Francaise_ had gained considerable
importance through its own connection with the party in office. It
published political intelligence in advance of the most important
papers, and hinted discreetly the intentions of its friends the
Ministry, so that all the papers of Paris and the provinces took their
news from it. It was quoted and feared, and people began to respect it.
It was no longer the suspicious organ of a knot of political jugglers,
but the acknowledged one of the Cabinet. Laroche-Mathieu was the soul of
the paper, and Du Roy his mouthpiece. Daddy Walter, a silent member and
a crafty manager, knowing when to keep in the background, was busying
himself on the quiet, it is said, with an extensive transaction with
some copper mines in Morocco.
Madeleine's drawing-room had been an influential center, in which
several members of the Cabinet met every week. The President of the
Council had even dined twice at her house, and the wives of the
statesmen who had formerly hesitated to cross her threshold now boasted
of being her friends, and paid her more visits than were returned by
her. The Minister for Foreign Affairs reigned almost as a master in the
household. He called at all hours, bringing dispatches, news, items of
information, which he dictated either to the husband or the wife, as if
they had been his secretaries.
When Du Roy, after the minister's departure, found himself alone with
Madeleine, he would break out in a menacing tone with bitter
insinuations against the goings-on of this commonplace parvenu.
But she would shrug her shoulders contemptuously, repeating: "Do as much
as he has done yourself. Become a minister, and you can have your own
way. Till then, hold your tongue."
He twirled his moustache, looking at her askance: "People do not know of
what I am capable," he said, "They will learn it, perhaps, some day."