A GREAT STROKE
The offices of 'L'Espérance,' the Catholic journal in distress, which,
at Jantrou's suggestion, Saccard had purchased to assist him in
launching the Universal Bank, were situated in the Rue Saint Joseph, in
an old, dark, damp building, of which they occupied the first floor, at
the rear of the courtyard. A passage led from the ante-room, where the
gas was always kept burning; and on the left came, first, the office
of Jantrou, the director, and then a room which Saccard had reserved
for himself; whilst on the right were the contributors' room, the
sub-editor's room, and others. Across the landing were the manager's
and cashier's offices, which an inner passage, behind the staircase,
connected with the editorial rooms.
That day, Jordan, who was finishing an article in the contributors'
room, which he had entered at an early hour in order not to be
disturbed, went out just as the clock struck four to find Dejoie, the
office porter, who, by a broad gas flame, although it was radiant
daylight out of doors, was greedily reading the Bourse bulletin, which
had just arrived, and at which he invariably got the first look.
'I say, Dejoie, was it Monsieur Jantrou who just came in?'
'Yes, Monsieur Jordan.'
The young man hesitated, experienced a feeling of uneasiness, which for
a few seconds kept him there. In the difficult beginnings of his happy
household, some old debts had fallen upon him; and, in spite of his
luck in finding this paper to take his articles, he was passing through
a period of cruel embarrassment, the greater as his salary had been
attached, and as that very day he had to pay a fresh note of hand, or
otherwise an execution would be promptly levied on his few sticks of
furniture. Twice already he had vainly applied to the director for an
advance, for Jantrou had fallen back upon the attachment placed in his
hands.
However, the young fellow at last made up his mind, and was approaching
the door, when the porter added:
'Monsieur Jantrou is not alone.'
'Ah! who is with him?'
'He came in with Monsieur Saccard, and Monsieur Saccard told me to let
no one enter except Monsieur Huret, whom he is waiting for.'
Jordan breathed again, relieved by this delay, so painful did he find
it to ask for money. 'All right, I will go back to finish my article.
Let me know when the director is alone,' said he.
Just as he was stepping away, however, Dejoie detained him, with a
shout of extreme delight: 'You know that Universal have reached 750.'
The young man made a gesture as though to say that it was all one to
him, and then returned to the contributors' room.
Almost every day Saccard thus went up to the newspaper office on
leaving the Bourse, and often even made appointments in the room which
he had reserved for himself there, in order to negotiate certain
special and mysterious affairs. Jantrou, moreover, although officially
only the director of 'L'Espérance,' for which he wrote political
articles in the finished, florid style of a University man, articles
which his opponents themselves recognised as the 'purest atticism,' was
in addition the financier's secret agent, entrusted with the discharge
of delicate duties. And among other things he had just organised a
vast advertising scheme in connection with the Universal Bank. Of the
little financial sheets that swarmed all over France, he had chosen
and 'bought' a dozen. The best belonged to doubtful banking-houses,
whose very simple tactics consisted in publishing and supplying copies
of these prints for two or three francs a year, a sum which did not
even represent the cost of postage; but then they recouped themselves
in another way, dealing in the money and securities of the customers
which the papers brought them. It was pretended that the sole object
of these papers was to publish the Bourse quotations, the winning
numbers in the bond drawings, all the technical information useful to
petty capitalists, but gradually puffs were slipped in among the other
'copy,' in the form of recommendation and advice, at first modestly and
reasonably, but soon immoderately and with quiet impudence, so as to
sow ruin among credulous readers.
From among the mass of the two or three hundred publications which
were thus ravaging Paris and France, Jantrou, with keen scent, had
just chosen those which had not as yet lied too boldly, and were not,
therefore, in too bad odour. But the big affair which he contemplated
was the purchase of one of them, the 'Côte Financière,' which already
had twelve years of absolute honesty behind it; only such honesty
threatened to be very expensive, and he was waiting till the Universal
should be richer and find itself in one of those situations when a
last trumpet blast determines the deafening peals of triumph. However,
he had not confined himself to gathering together a docile battalion
of these special organs, which in each successive number celebrated
the beauty of Saccard's operations; he had also contracted with the
principal political and literary journals, keeping up in their columns
a running fire of amiable paragraphs and laudatory articles, at so
much a line, and assuring himself of their aid by presents of shares
when new issues were placed on the market. And then, too, there was
the daily campaign carried on under his orders in 'L'Espérance,'
not a violent campaign of approbation, but an explanatory and even
argumentative one, a slow fashion of seizing hold of the public and
strangling it.
It was to talk about the paper that Saccard had shut himself up with
Jantrou that afternoon. In the morning issue he had found an article
by Huret teeming with such extravagant praise of a speech made by
Rougon in the Chamber the day before, that he had entered into a
violent rage, and was waiting for the deputy, to have an explanation
with him. Did they suppose that he was his brother's hireling? Was
he paid to compromise the journal's line of conduct by unreserved
approval of the Minister's slightest acts? Jantrou smiled silently
when he heard him speak of the journal's line of conduct. Still,
as the storm did not threaten to burst upon his own shoulders, he
listened to him calmly, examining his finger-nails the while. With the
cynicism of a disillusioned man of letters, he had the most perfect
contempt for literature, for both 'one' and 'two,' as he said, alluding
to the pages of the paper upon which the articles, even his own,
appeared; and he only began to evince any interest on reaching the
advertisements. He now wore the newest of clothes--closely girt in an
elegant frock coat, his button-hole blooming with a brilliant rosette
of various colours; in summer carrying a light-coloured overcoat on
his arm, in winter buried in a furcoat costing a hundred louis; and
showing himself especially careful with regard to his head-gear, his
hat always being irreproachable, glittering indeed like a mirror. But
with all this there were still certain gaps in his elegance; a vague
suspicion of uncleanliness persisting underneath, the old filth of the
ex-professor fallen from the Bordeaux Lycée to the Paris Bourse, his
skin penetrated, stained by the dirt in which he had lived for ten
years; so that, amid the arrogant assurance of his new fortune, he
still frequently evinced base humility, making himself very small and
humble in the sudden fear of receiving some kick from behind, as in
former times.
He now made a hundred thousand francs a year, and spent double the
amount, nobody knew how, for he paraded no mistress, but was probably
consumed by some awful vice, the secret cause which had driven him
from the University. Absinthe, moreover, had been gradually devouring
him ever since his days of poverty, and in the luxurious club-house of
to-day continued the work begun in the low-class cafés of former times,
mowing off his last hairs, and imparting a leaden hue to his skull and
face, of which his black, fan-shaped beard remained the sole glory. And
Saccard having again invoked 'L'Espérance's' line of conduct, Jantrou
stopped him with a gesture, with the weary air of a man who, not
liking to waste his time in futile passion, had made up his mind to
talk of serious matters, since Huret did not put in an appearance.
For some time the ex-professor had been nursing some new advertising
ideas. He thought first of writing a pamphlet, some twenty pages long,
about the great enterprises which the Universal Bank was launching--a
pamphlet, however, which should have all the interest of a romance, and
be couched in a dramatic and familiar style; and he wished to inundate
the provinces with this pamphlet, to have it distributed gratuitously
in the remotest country districts. Then he proposed to establish an
agency, which should draw up and 'manifold' a daily bulletin of the
Bourse, sending a hundred copies of it to the best papers in the
various departments of France. This bulletin would be given away or
sold at a nominal price, and in this wise they would soon have in their
hands a powerful weapon, a force which every rival banking-house would
have to recognise. Knowing Saccard, he thus primed him with his ideas,
returning to the attack until the other had adopted them, made them his
own, enlarged them to the point of really re-creating them.
In talk like this the minutes slipped away, and they came at last to
the apportionment of the advertising funds for the next quarter, to
the subsidies to be paid to the principal newspapers, to the terrible
financial scribe employed by a hostile house whose silence it was
necessary to purchase, and the course which they should take with
regard to the approaching sale by auction of the fourth page of a very
old and highly-respected print. And, amidst their prodigality with
regard to all the money that they thus uproariously scattered to the
four corners of heaven, you could detect what immense disdain they
felt for the public, what contempt in which they, intelligent business
men, held the dense ignorance of the masses--the masses which were
ready to believe all stories, and were so incompetent to understand the
complex operations of the Bourse that the most shameless traps caught
passers-by, and made millions of money rain down.
Whilst Jordan was still striving to concoct fifty lines of 'copy' with
which to complete his two columns, he was disturbed by Dejoie, who
called him. 'Ah!' said the young fellow, 'is Monsieur Jantrou alone
now?'
'No, monsieur, not yet. But your wife is here, and wants to see you.'
Very anxious, Jordan hurried out. For a few months past, since La
Méchain had at last discovered that he was writing over his own name
in 'L'Espérance,' he had been pursued by Busch for payment of the six
notes of fifty francs each which he had formerly given to a tailor.
He could have managed to pay the three hundred francs which the notes
represented, but what exasperated him was the enormity of the costs,
that total of seven hundred and thirty francs and fifteen centimes to
which the debt had risen. He had entered into a compromise, however,
and pledged himself to pay a hundred francs a month; and, as he could
not manage it, his young household having more pressing needs, the
costs rose higher yet every month, and the intolerable annoyances were
ever beginning afresh.
Just then he was again passing through a serious crisis. 'What's the
matter?' he asked his wife, whom he found in the ante-room.
But, before she could answer, the door of the director's office was
thrown open, and Saccard appeared, shouting: 'I say, Dejoie--and
Monsieur Huret?'
'Why, monsieur, he isn't here,' stammered the bewildered attendant; 'I
cannot make him hurry.'
The door was closed again with an oath, and Jordan, having taken his
wife into one of the adjoining offices, was there able to question her
at his ease.
'What's the matter, darling?' he again asked.
Marcelle, usually so gay and brave, whose little, plump, dark person
and clear countenance, with laughing eyes and healthy mouth, expressed
happiness even in trying times, now seemed utterly upset. 'Oh, Paul,
if you only knew!' she replied. 'A man came--oh! a frightful, ugly
man--who smelt bad, and had been drinking, I think. Well, he told me
that the matter was ended, that the sale of our furniture was fixed
for to-morrow. And he had a placard, which he wanted to stick up at the
street door.'
'But it is impossible!' cried Jordan. 'I have received nothing; there
are other formalities to be observed.'
'Oh! you know still less about these matters than I do. When papers
come, you do not even read them. Well, to keep him from putting up the
placard I gave him forty sous, and hurried off to tell you.'
They were in despair. Their poor little home in the Avenue de Clichy!
Those few little bits of furniture, of mahogany and blue rep, which
they had purchased with such difficulty at so much a month, and of
which they were so proud, although they sometimes laughed at them,
finding them in execrable _bourgeois_ taste! Still they loved them,
because ever since their wedding night they had formed part of their
happiness in those two little rooms over yonder, those little rooms
which were so sunny, so open to space, with a view stretching away
even to Mont Valérien. And he who had driven in so many nails, and she
who had shown so much ingenuity to give the apartments an artistic
appearance! Was it possible that all was going to be sold, that they
were to be driven from that pretty nook, where even poverty was
delightful to them?
'Listen,' said he, 'I was thinking of asking for an advance; I will do
what I can, but I haven't much hope.'
Then, in a hesitating way, she confided her idea to him. 'This is what
I have been thinking of,' said she. 'Oh! I would not have done it
without your consent, as you may judge from the fact that I have come
here to talk with you about it. Yes, I desire to apply to my parents.'
He promptly refused. 'No, no, never! You know very well that I don't
wish to be under any obligation to them.'
The Maugendres certainly behaved in a decorous fashion. But Jordan
retained in his heart a recollection of the coldness which they had
shown him after the suicide of his father, whose fortune had been swept
away in speculation. He remembered that they had then only consented to
the long-planned marriage of their daughter because she was determined
on it, and that they had taken all sorts of offensive precautions
against himself, among others that of not giving a sou of dowry,
convinced as they were that a fellow who wrote for the newspapers would
devour everything. Later on, said they, their daughter would inherit
their property. And so the young couple, she as well as he, had taken a
certain pride in starving without asking anything of her parents apart
from the meal which they took with them once a week, on Sunday evenings.
'I assure you,' she replied, 'our reserve is ridiculous, since I am
their only child, since the whole must come to me some day! My father
tells every one who will listen to him that he has acquired an income
of fifteen thousand francs by his awning manufactory at La Villette;
and then, too, there is their little residence, with its beautiful
garden, to which they have retired. It is stupid for us to let
ourselves be worried like this when they have a surfeit of everything.
They have never been cruel to us, you know. I tell you that I am going
to see them.'
She evinced a cheerful bravery, displayed a determined air, very
practical in her desire to bring happiness to her dear husband, who
worked so hard without yet having obtained anything from either the
critics or the public, excepting a good deal of indifference and a
few smacks. Ah! money, she would have liked to bring it to him by the
bucketful, and he would be very stupid to be over particular about it,
since she loved him and owed him everything. It was her fairy story,
her 'Cinderella:' the treasures of her royal family, which with her
little hands she deposited at the feet of her ruined prince, to keep
him on in his march to glory and the conquest of the world.
'Come,' she gaily said, kissing him, 'I really must be of some use to
you; all the pain must not be yours.'
He yielded; it was agreed that she should go straightway to the Rue
Legendre, at Batignolles, where her parents lived, and that she should
bring the money back to the office, in order that he might try to pay
it that very evening. And, as he accompanied her to the stairs, as much
agitated as though she were starting on a very dangerous expedition,
they had to step aside to make room for Huret, who had at last arrived.
When Jordan returned to finish his article in the contributors' room,
he heard a violent hubbub of voices in Jantrou's office.
Saccard, now grown powerful, the master once more, wished to be obeyed,
knowing that he held them all by the hope of gain and the terror of
loss in that colossal game of fortune which he was playing with them.
'Ah! so here you are,' he shouted on seeing Huret. 'Did you stop at
the Chamber to offer the great man your article in a gilt frame? I've
had enough, you know, of this swinging of incense-burners under his
nose, and I have been waiting for you to tell you that it must be
stopped--that in future you must give us something else.'
Quite amazed, Huret looked at Jantrou. But the latter, thoroughly
determined not to get himself into trouble by coming to the deputy's
succour, had begun to pass his fingers through his handsome beard, his
eyes wandering away.
'What! something else?' finally asked Huret; 'but I give you what you
asked for. When you purchased "L'Espérance," the organ of extreme
Catholicism and Royalty, which was carrying on such a bitter campaign
against Rougon, you yourself asked me to write a series of laudatory
articles in order to show your brother that you did not intend to be
hostile to him, and in this wise to indicate the new policy of the
paper.'
'The policy of the paper, precisely,' replied Saccard with increased
violence; 'it is the policy of the paper that I accuse you of
compromising. Do you think that I wish to be my brother's vassal?
Certainly I have never been sparing of grateful admiration and
affection for the Emperor; I don't forget what we all owe to him, what
I in particular owe to him. But to point out the mistakes that are made
is not the same thing as to attack the Empire; on the contrary, it is
the duty imposed on every faithful subject. That, then, is the paper's
policy--devotion to the dynasty, but entire independence with regard to
Ministers, to all the ambitious individuals ever bestirring themselves
and fighting together for the favour of the Tuileries!'
And then he launched into an examination of the political situation,
in order to prove that the Emperor had bad advisers. He accused
Rougon of having lost his authoritative energy, his former faith
in absolute power, of compounding with liberal ideas for the sole
purpose of retaining his ministerial portfolio. For his part, striking
his chest with his fist, he declared himself to be unchangeable, a
Bonapartist from the very first, a believer in the _coup d'état_, with
the conviction that the salvation of France lay, to-day as well as
formerly, in the genius and strength of a single man. Yes, rather than
assist the evolution of his brother, rather than allow the Emperor to
commit suicide by new concessions, he would rally the uncompromising
believers in dictatorship together, make common cause with the Catholic
party, in order to prevent the rapid downfall which he foresaw. And let
Rougon take care, for 'L'Espérance' might resume its campaign in favour
of Rome!
Huret and Jantrou listened to him, astonished at his wrath, never
having suspected that he possessed such ardent political convictions.
And it occurred to the former to try to defend the last acts of the
Government.
'Well, my dear fellow,' said he, 'if the Empire is moving towards
liberty, it is because all France is pushing it firmly in that
direction. The Emperor is borne along with the current, and Rougon is
obliged to follow him.'
But Saccard was already passing to other grievances, without a thought
of making his attacks in any degree logical.
'And see,' said he, 'it is the same with our foreign situation; why,
it is deplorable! Since the Treaty of Villafranca which followed upon
Solferino, Italy has harboured resentment against us for not having
finished the campaign and given her Venice; so that now she is allied
with Prussia, in the certainty that the latter will help her to beat
Austria. When war breaks out, you'll see what a row there'll be, and
what a fix we shall be in; especially as we have made the great mistake
of letting Bismarck and King William seize the Duchies in the Denmark
affair, in contempt of a treaty which France herself had signed. It is
a slap in the face, there's no denying it, and there is nothing for us
to do now but to turn the other cheek. Oh! war is certain; you remember
how French and Italian securities fell last month, when there was some
talk of a possible intervention on our part in German affairs. Within a
fortnight, perhaps, Europe will be on fire.'
More and more surprised, Huret became excited, contrary to his habit.
'You talk like the Opposition papers,' said he; 'but you certainly
don't want "L'Espérance" to follow the lead of the "Siècle" and the
others. There is nothing left for you but to insinuate, like those
rags do, that, if the Emperor allowed himself to be humiliated in the
Schleswig-Holstein affair, and let Prussia grow with impunity, it is
because he had for many months kept an entire army corps in Mexico.
Come, be a little fair; the Mexican affair is over, our troops are
coming back. And then I do not understand you, my dear fellow. If you
wish to keep Rome for the Pope, why do you seem to blame the hasty
peace of Villafranca? Venice given to Italy means the Italians in Rome
within two years; you know that as well as I do, and Rougon knows it
too, although he swears the contrary in the tribune.'
'Ah! you see what a trickster he is!' shouted Saccard superbly. 'Never
will they touch the Pope, do you hear me? without the whole of Catholic
France rising up to defend him. We should carry him our money, yes! all
the money of the Universal. I have my plan, our affair lies there, and
really, if you keep on exasperating me, you will make me say things
that I do not want to say as yet.'
Jantrou, very much interested, had suddenly pricked up his ears,
beginning to understand, trying to profit by the remarks thus casually
dropped.
'Well,' replied Huret, 'I want to know what to depend upon with regard
to my articles, and we must come to an understanding. Are you for
intervention or against intervention? If we are for the principle of
nationalities, by what right are we to meddle with the affairs of Italy
and Germany? Do you wish us to carry on a campaign against Bismarck?
Yes! in the name of our menaced frontiers.'
But Saccard, erect, beside himself, burst out: 'What I want is that
Rougon shall not make a fool of me any longer. What! after all that
I have done! I buy a newspaper, the worst of his enemies; I make it
an organ devoted to his policy; I allow you to sing his praises for
months, and yet never has the beggar given us a single lift. I have
still to receive the first service from him.'
Thereupon the deputy timidly remarked that the Minister's support had
singularly aided the engineer Hamelin in the East, opening all doors to
him, and exercising pressure upon influential personages.
'Oh, stuff and nonsense! He could not do otherwise. But has he ever
sent me a word of warning the day before a rise or a fall, he who is
so well placed to know everything? Remember, I have a score of times
charged you to sound him, you who see him every day, and you have yet
to bring me a useful bit of information. Yet it would not be such a
serious matter--a simple word for you to repeat to me.'
'Undoubtedly. But he doesn't like that sort of thing; he says it is all
jobbery, which a man always repents of.'
'Nonsense! Has he any such scruples with Gundermann? He plays the
honest man with me, and he gives tips to Gundermann.'
'Oh, Gundermann, no doubt! They all need Gundermann; they could not
float a loan without him.'
At this Saccard clapped his hands with a violent gesture of triumph.
'There we are, then; you confess it! The empire is sold to the
Jews--the dirty Jews! All our money is doomed to fall into their
thieving paws. There is nothing left for the Universal but to collapse
before their omnipotence.'
And then he exhaled his hereditary hatred, again brought forward his
charges against that race of traffickers and usurers for centuries on
the march through the nations, sucking their blood, like the parasites
of scab and itch, and, although spat upon and beaten, yet marching on
to the certain conquest of the world, which they would some day possess
by the invincible power of gold. And he was especially furious against
Gundermann, giving way to his old resentment, to his unrealisable mad
desire to strike that Jew down; and this in spite of a presentiment
that he was the limit against which he (Saccard) would fall should he
ever engage in a struggle with him. Ah, that Gundermann! a Prussian in
the house, albeit born in France; for his sympathies were evidently
with Prussia; he would willingly have supported her with his money,
perhaps he was secretly supporting her even now! Had he not dared to
say one evening, in a _salon_, that, if war should ever break out
between Prussia and France, the latter would be vanquished?
'I have had enough of it; do you understand, Huret? and get this well
into your head: that if my brother is of no service to me, I do not
intend to be of any further service to him; When you have brought me a
good word from him--I mean a "tip" that we can turn to account--I will
allow you to resume your dithyrambs in his favour. Is that clear?'
It was too clear. Jantrou, who had again found his Saccard under the
political theorist, had once more begun to comb his beard with his
finger tips. But all this did not suit the wily peasant-like prudence
of Huret, who was greatly annoyed, for he had staked his fortune upon
the two brothers, and would have liked to quarrel with neither of them.
'You are right,' he murmured; 'let us act discreetly, especially as we
must wait to see what will happen. And I promise you to do everything
to obtain the great man's confidence. The first news that he gives me,
I will jump into a cab and bring it to you.'
Having played his part, Saccard was already in a good humour again. 'It
is for you all that I am working, my good friends,' said he. 'For my
part, I have always been ruined, and I have always devoured a million a
year.'
Then, reverting to the advertising, he continued: 'I say, Jantrou, you
ought to make your Bourse bulletin a little more lively. Yes, you know,
give us some jokes, some puns. The public like that sort of thing;
there is nothing like wit to help them to swallow things. That's it,
eh? some puns!'
It was the director's turn to be vexed. He prided himself on his
literary distinction. But he had to promise. And thereupon, as he
invented a story of some fashionable women who had offered to allow
advertisements to be tattooed on their persons, the three men, laughing
loudly, again became the best friends in the world.
Meanwhile Jordan had at last finished his article, and was impatiently
awaiting his wife's return. Other contributors arrived; he chatted
with them, and then went into the ante-room. And there he was a little
scandalised to find Dejoie, with his ear against the door of the
director's room, listening to all that was being said in it, while his
daughter Nathalie kept watch.
'Do not go in,' stammered the attendant. 'Monsieur Saccard is still
there--I thought I heard them call me.'
The truth was that, bitten by a fierce longing for gain ever since he
had bought eight fully paid-up shares in the Universal with the four
thousand francs which his wife had saved and left to him, he lived only
for the delightful emotion of seeing these shares 'go up' in value;
and ever on his knees before Saccard, drinking in his most trifling
remarks, as though they had been oracular utterances, he could not
resist his desire to become acquainted with his real thoughts, to hear
what the demi-god said in the secrecy of his sanctuary. Moreover, there
was no egotism in this; his only thought was for his daughter, and he
had just become excited by the calculation that, at seven hundred and
fifty francs apiece, his eight shares already represented a profit
of twelve hundred francs, which, added to the capital sum, made five
thousand two hundred francs. Another rise of a hundred francs, and he
would have the six thousand francs he desired, the dowry which his
neighbour, the mill-board maker, insisted upon as a condition of his
son's marriage with the girl. At this thought, Dejoie's heart melted;
and he gazed with tearful eyes at the child whom he had brought up, and
whose real mother he had been in the happy little home which they had
made together since he had taken her from her nurse.
However, he was very much put out at being surprised by Jordan, and
sought to hide his indiscretion by saying whatever entered his head:
'Nathalie, who just came up to see me, met your wife out of doors,
Monsieur Jordan.'
'Yes,' said the young girl; 'she was turning into the Rue Feydeau. Oh,
she was running so fast!'
Her father allowed her to go out as she pleased, certain of her good
behaviour, said he. And he did right to rely upon her, for she was
really too cold, too determined to ensure her future happiness, to
compromise by folly the marriage which had been so long looked forward
to. With her slender figure, and her large eyes lighting up her pretty,
pale, smiling face, she loved herself with egotistical obstinacy.
Jordan, surprised and at a loss to understand, exclaimed: 'What! you
saw her in the Rue Feydeau?'
But he had not time to question the girl further, for at that moment
Marcelle entered, out of breath. He forthwith took her into the
adjoining office, but, finding the law-court reporter there, had to
come out again and content himself with sitting down beside her on a
little bench at the end of the passage.
'Well?'
'Well, dear, it is done, but not without trouble.'
Despite her satisfaction, he saw clearly that her heart was full; and
she rapidly told him everything in a low voice, for in vain did she vow
to hide certain things from him; she could keep no secrets.
For some time the Maugendres had been changing in their manner towards
their daughter. She found them less affectionate, more preoccupied,
slowly becoming the prey of a new passion--the passion for gambling. It
was the usual story: the father, a stout, calm, bald man, with white
whiskers; the mother, lean and active, earner in part of the common
fortune; both living in too profuse a style on their fifteen thousand
francs a year, and sorely worried at having nothing left to do. He,
indeed, had nothing to occupy his attention, except the collection
of his money. Formerly he had thundered against all speculation, and
shrugged his shoulders with mingled wrath and pity in speaking of the
poor fools who allowed themselves to be plucked in stupid, unclean,
thieving Bourse transactions. But about this time, a considerable sum
of money owing to him having been repaid, he conceived the idea of
lending it against securities. That was not speculation, but a simple
investment; only from that day forward he had contracted the habit of
attentively reading the Bourse quotations in his paper after breakfast.
And in this wise the evil took root; the fever gradually seized upon
him at sight of the mad dance of securities, on breathing the poisonous
atmosphere of the gambling world, and his mind became haunted by the
thought of millions made in an hour, whereas he himself had spent
thirty years in getting a few hundred thousand francs together. He
could not help talking to his wife about it at each meal; what strokes
he would have made if he hadn't sworn that he would never gamble! And
he explained the operation; he manipulated his funds with all the
skilful strategy of a carpet general, always ending by vanquishing his
imaginary opponents, for he prided himself on having become wonderfully
expert in such matters as options and lending money on securities.
His wife, growing anxious, declared that she would rather drown herself
at once than see him risk a copper; but he reassured her. What did
she take him for? Never in his life would he do such a thing! Yet
an opportunity had offered; both had long desired to build a little
greenhouse in their garden--a greenhouse costing from five to six
thousand francs; and thus one evening, his hands trembling with a
delightful emotion, he laid upon his wife's work table six notes of a
thousand francs each, saying that he had just won them at the Bourse;
a stroke which he had felt sure of, an indulgence which he promised
he would never allow himself again, and on which he had only ventured
because of the greenhouse. She, a prey to mingled anger and astonished
delight, had not dared to scold him, and the following month he
launched out into some transaction in options, explaining to her that
he feared nothing since he limited his loss. Besides, there were some
excellent chances among the lot, and it would have been very stupid of
him to let others alone profit by them. And thus--it was fatal--he
began to speculate, in a small way at first, but gradually more boldly,
whilst she, tortured by anxiety, like a good prudent housewife, yet
with her eyes sparkling at the slightest gain, continued to predict
that he would die a beggar.
But it was especially Captain Chave, Madame Maugendre's brother, who
blamed his brother-in-law. He, who could not live on his pension of
eighteen hundred francs a year, speculated at the Bourse to be sure;
but then he was the shrewdest of the shrewd; he went there as a clerk
goes to his office, and embarked solely in cash transactions, brimming
over with delight when he took his twenty-franc piece home in the
evening. These were daily operations of the most certain sort, and so
modest that there was no possibility of catastrophe. His sister had
offered him a home in her house, which was too large now that Marcelle
had married; but wishing to be free, he had refused, and tenanted a
single room in the rear of a garden in the Rue Nollet. For years he
had been cautioning Maugendre, telling him not to gamble, but to take
life easily; and when the latter had cried, 'But you?' he had made a
vigorous gesture. Oh! he! that was different; he hadn't got an income
of fifteen thousand francs! If he gambled, it was the fault of that
dirty Government which begrudged to its old soldiers the delights
of their old age. His great argument against gambling was that the
gambler is mathematically bound to lose: if he wins, he has to deduct
brokerage and stamp tax; if he loses, he has to pay these taxes in
addition to his loss. So that, even admitting that he wins as often as
he loses, he is still out of pocket to the extent of the stamp tax and
the brokerage. At the Paris Bourse these taxes annually produce the
enormous total of eighty millions of francs. And he brandished those
figures--eighty millions gathered in by the State, the brokers, and the
bucket-shops!
Seated on the little bench at the end of the corridor, Marcelle told
her husband a part of this story.
'I must say, dear, that my visit was ill-timed. Mamma was quarrelling
with papa on account of some loss which he has met with at the Bourse.
Yes, it appears that he never leaves it now. It seems so queer to me,
he who formerly used to say that all men ought to earn their money by
steady work. Well, they were disputing, and there was a newspaper, the
"Côte Financière," which mamma was flourishing under his nose, telling
him that he didn't know anything, that she had foreseen the fall
herself. Then he went for another paper, "L'Espérance," in fact, and
wanted to show her the article from which he had got his information.
Indeed, the house is full of newspapers; they stuff themselves with
them from morning till night, and I believe--God forgive me!--that
mamma is beginning to speculate too, in spite of her furious air.'
Jordan could not help laughing, so amusingly did she mimic the scene
amidst all her sorrow.
'Well, I told them of our worry, and asked them to lend us two hundred
francs to stop the proceedings. And if you had only heard how they
cried out! Two hundred francs, when they had lost two thousand at the
Bourse! Was I laughing at them? Did I want to ruin them? Never had I
seen them in such a state. They who were so kind to me, who would have
spent their all in making me presents! They must really be going mad,
for there is no sense in making their lives wretched in this fashion
when they could be so happy in their beautiful house, with nothing to
worry them, no care but to live at their ease on the fortune which they
so painfully earned.'
'I certainly hope that you did not insist,' said Jordan.
'Why, yes, I did insist; and then they fell upon you. You see that I
tell you everything; I had promised myself to keep this from you, and
now it escapes me. They repeated to me that they had foreseen how it
would be, that writing in the newspapers isn't a proper business for
anyone, and that we should end by dying on the straw. Finally, as I was
getting angry in my turn, and was just about to leave, the Captain came
in. You know that Uncle Chave has always been very fond of me. Well, in
his presence, they became reasonable, especially as he triumphed over
papa by asking him if he meant to keep on getting himself robbed like
that. Then mamma took me aside, and slipped fifty francs into my hand,
saying that with that we could obtain a few days' delay, enough time to
turn round.'
'Fifty francs! a pittance! And you accepted them?'
Marcelle had grasped his hands tenderly, calming him with her quiet
good sense.
'Come, don't be angry. Yes, I accepted them, and I understood so well
that you would never dare to take them to the process-server that I
went at once myself to his office, you know, in the Rue Cadet. But
just imagine! he refused to take the money, explaining that he had
formal orders from M. Busch, and that M. Busch could alone stop the
proceedings. Oh! that Busch! I hate nobody, but how he exasperates and
disgusts me! Still, all the same, I ran off to his office in the Rue
Feydeau and he had to content himself with the fifty francs; so there,
here we are, with a little peace before us for a fortnight.'
Deep emotion had contracted Jordan's face, while the tears that he was
restraining moistened his eyelids. 'You did that, little wife, you did
that?' said he.
'Why yes, I did not wish you to be annoyed any further. What harm does
it do to me to get a scolding if you are allowed to work in peace?'
She was laughing now, and forthwith she began to tell the story of her
arrival at Busch's office amid all his dusty, grimy papers; the brutal
way in which he had received her, his threats that he would not leave
them a rag on their backs if the whole debt were not paid at once. The
queer part was that she had given herself the treat of exasperating him
by disputing his legal right to recover the debt, those three hundred
francs represented by the notes, which costs had run up to no less
than seven hundred and fifty francs and fifteen centimes, whereas he
had probably found the papers in some bundle of old rags which hadn't
perhaps cost him a hundred sous. On hearing this he had almost choked
with fury; in the first place, said he, he had paid a very high price
for the notes; and there was his lost time, and all the running about
during a couple of years to discover the person who had signed them,
and the intelligence that he had had to display in this hunt. Was he
not to be repaid for all that? So much the worse for those who allowed
themselves to be caught! All the same, however, he had ended by taking
the fifty francs, for his prudent system was always to compromise.
'Ah! little wife, how brave you are, and how I love you!' said Jordan,
impulsively kissing Marcelle, although the sub-editor was just passing.
And then, lowering his voice, he asked: 'How much have you left at
home?'
'Seven francs.'
'Good!' he rejoined, feeling quite happy, 'we can go two days on that,
so I won't ask for an advance, which would surely be refused. Besides,
it worries me so to ask. To-morrow I will go to see if the "Figaro"
will take an article from me. Ah! if I had only finished my novel, and
if that would sell a little!'
Marcelle kissed him in her turn. 'Yes, things will go on all right. Now
you will come home with me, won't you? That will be so nice of you, and
for to-morrow morning we'll buy a red herring at the corner of the Rue
de Clichy, where I saw some splendid ones. To-night we have potatoes
and bacon.'
Having asked a comrade to look at his proofs, Jordan started off with
his wife. Saccard and Huret were also going away just then. In the
street a brougham had stopped outside the newspaper office, and they
saw the Baroness Sandorff step out. She bowed with a smile, and then
went hurriedly up the stairs. She now sometimes visited Jantrou in this
fashion, just by way of asking him if he knew of anything. In spite
of his sudden rise, she still treated him as she had done in the days
when he had presented himself at her father's house, bending double and
soliciting orders. Her father had been a frightfully brutal man, and
she could not forget how she had once seen him, when enraged by a heavy
loss, kick Jantrou out of the door. And now that the ex-professor was
at the fountain-head of information, she had again become familiar, and
sought to extract tips from him.
'Well, is there nothing new?' she asked, when she had reached his
office, where she would not even sit down.
'No, indeed; I know nothing.'
But she continued to look at him with a smile, persuaded that he was
unwilling to speak. Then, to force him to be confidential, she began
to talk of that stupid war, which was about to set Austria, Italy,
and Prussia fighting. The world of speculation was panic-stricken;
there had been a terrible fall in Italian funds, as well as in all
securities for that matter. And she was very much worried, for she did
not know how far she ought to follow the movement, already having heavy
engagements for next settling-day.
'Doesn't your husband give you any information?' asked Jantrou
jestingly. 'He is certainly in a good position to do so, at the
Embassy.'
'Oh! my husband,' she murmured, with a disdainful gesture: 'my husband,
I get nothing out of him.'
He continued to laugh at her expense, going so far as to allude to
the Public Prosecutor, Delcambre, who was said to pay her losses when
she consented to pay them at all. 'And your friends, don't they know
anything, either at Court or at the Palais de Justice?'
She pretended not to understand, but, without taking her eyes off him,
rejoined, in a supplicating tone: 'Come, be amiable yourself. You know
something.'
'Amiable, why should I be?' said he, laughing, with an embarrassed air.
'You are scarcely amiable with me.'
Straightway she became grave again, and a stern expression came into
her eyes. That man, whom her father had received with kicks--ah! never!
And she turned her back upon him to go away when, out of spite, seeking
to wound her, he added: 'You just met Saccard at the door, didn't you?
Why didn't you question him? He wouldn't refuse you.'
She suddenly stepped back. 'What do you mean?'
'Why, whatever you please. Oh, don't pretend to be mystified!'
A feeling of revolt filled her; all the pride of her race, still
alive, rose out of the troubled depths, the mire in which her gambling
passion was slowly, gradually drowning it. However, she did not indulge
in an outburst, but in a clear, severe tone of voice simply said: 'Ah!
my dear sir, what do you take me for? You are mad. No, I have nothing
in common with your Saccard, because I didn't choose.'
Thereupon he saluted her with a profound bow. 'Well, madame, you made
a very great mistake. You, who are always seeking "tips," could easily
obtain them from that gentleman.'
At this she made up her mind to laugh; however, when she shook hands
with him, he felt that hers was quite cold.
The month of June went by; on the 15th Italy had declared war against
Austria. On the other hand, Prussia in scarcely a couple of weeks had,
by a lightning march, invaded Hanover and conquered the two Hesses,
Baden, and Saxony, surprising the unarmed populations in full peace.
France had not budged; well-informed people whispered very softly
at the Bourse that she had had a secret understanding with Prussia
ever since Bismarck had met the Emperor at Biarritz, and folks talked
mysteriously of the 'compensations' which she was to receive for her
neutrality. But none the less, the fall in public funds, and almost
all securities, went on in the most disastrous fashion. When the news
of Sadowa, that sudden thunderbolt, reached Paris on the 4th of July,
there was a collapse of every kind of stock. Folks believed in an
obstinate prolongation of the war; for though Austria was beaten by
Prussia, she had defeated Italy at Custozza, and it was already said
that she was gathering the remnants of her army together, abandoning
Bohemia. Orders to sell rained upon the _corbeille_; and buyers were
not to be found.
On July 4, Saccard, calling at the office of the paper rather late,
about six o'clock, did not find Jantrou there, for the editor's
passions were now leading him into very disorderly courses. He would
suddenly disappear for a time, returning invariably with a worn-out
look and dim, bleared eyes. Women and drink were playing havoc with
him. At the hour when Saccard arrived the office was emptying. There
was scarcely a soul left there excepting Dejoie, who was dining at a
corner of his little table in the ante-room; and Saccard, after writing
a couple of letters, was in his turn about to take himself off when
Huret, as red as a turkey-cock, rushed in like a whirlwind, not even
taking the trouble to close the doors behind him.
'My dear fellow, my dear fellow!' he began; but he was almost stifling,
and had to stop and carry both hands to his chest. 'I have just left
Rougon,' he added at last; 'I had to run, because I hadn't got a cab.
But eventually I found one. Rougon has received a despatch from over
yonder; I've seen it! Such news! such news!'
With a violent wave of the arm, Saccard cut him short, and hastened to
close the door, for he had caught sight of Dejoie, who was already on
the prowl, with ears on the alert.
'Well, what?' he then asked.
'Well, the Emperor of Austria hands Venetia over to the Emperor of
the French and accepts his mediation, so that Napoleon is now about
to address himself to the Kings of Prussia and Italy with the view of
bringing about an armistice.'
A moment's silence ensued.
'That means peace, eh?' said Saccard.
'Evidently.'
Thunderstruck, no idea as yet occurring to him, Saccard gave vent to
an oath. 'D---- it! And everybody at the Bourse is speculating for a
further fall!' Then, in a mechanical way, he added: 'And does nobody
know this news?'
'No, it's a confidential despatch. There won't even be any announcement
in the "Moniteur" to-morrow morning. In all probability, Paris will
know nothing for four and twenty hours.'
Then the flash of lightning, the sudden inspiration, came to Saccard.
He again rushed to the door and opened it to see if anyone were
listening. He was quite beside himself, and when he came back he
planted himself in front of the deputy and seized hold of both lapels
of his coat. 'Keep quiet, not so loud!' said he. 'We are masters of
the situation if Gundermann and his gang are not warned. Not a word,
do you hear?--not a word to a living soul, to any of your friends, to
your wife even! It happens luckily! Jantrou isn't here, the secret will
be ours alone, and we shall have time to act. Oh, I don't mean to work
merely for my own profit! You are in it, all our colleagues of the
Universal too. Only a secret must never be confided to a lot of people.
Everything would be lost if there were the slightest indiscretion
before the opening of the Bourse to-morrow.'
Huret, who was greatly disturbed, quite upset in fact, by the magnitude
of the stroke which they were about to attempt, promised to speak to no
one. And then, deciding that they must open the campaign at once, they
divided the work between them. Saccard had already taken up his hat
when a last question came to his lips.
'So it was Rougon who told you to bring me this news?'
'To be sure,' replied Huret.
He had hesitated, however, in giving this answer, and, in point of
fact, he lied. The despatch had simply been lying on the Minister's
table, and curiosity had prompted him to read it while he was left
alone in Rougon's room for a few moments. However, as his interest lay
in furthering a cordial understanding between the two brothers, his lie
seemed to him a very adroit one, the more so as he knew that they had
little desire to see each other and talk about such things.
'Well,' said Saccard, 'there's no denying it, he's done me a good turn
this time. And now let's be off!'
Dejoie was still the only person in the ante-room. He had striven
to hear them, but had been unable to catch a single distinct word.
Nevertheless, they divined that he was in a feverish state; and indeed
he had scented the huge prey they were after. It might be invisible,
but there was a smell of money in the air, and to such a degree did it
disturb him that he impulsively rushed to the window on the landing to
see them cross the courtyard.
The difficulty lay in acting with the greatest possible speed and the
greatest possible caution at one and the same time. And so, on reaching
the street, they parted company--Huret undertaking to deal with the
'Petite Bourse,' held on the Boulevards in the evening, whilst Saccard,
late though it was, rushed off in search of brokers and jobbers to
give them orders for the purchase of stock. He wished to divide and
scatter these orders as much as possible, in order not to arouse any
suspicion; and, moreover, he wished to meet these brokers and jobbers
as though by chance instead of hunting them up at home, which might
have appeared singular. Luck came to his help. While walking down the
Boulevard he met Jacoby, with whom he joked and chatted for a while,
and before leaving him he managed to give him a rather heavy order
without provoking undue astonishment. A hundred steps further on he
fell in with a tall, fair-haired girl whom he knew to be the mistress
of another broker, Delarocque, Jacoby's brother-in-law; and as she said
that she expected to see him a little later, Saccard asked her to give
him his card, on which he wrote a few words in pencil.
Then, knowing that Mazaud meant to attend a banquet of old
schoolfellows that evening, he contrived to be at the restaurant where
it was held when the broker arrived there, and reversed the orders
which he had given him earlier in the day. But his greatest piece of
luck was to come. About midnight, whilst he was on his way home, he was
accosted by Massias, who was just leaving the Théâtre des Variétés.
They walked towards the Rue St. Lazare together, and on the way Saccard
had all the time necessary to pose as an eccentric fellow who believed
in a rise. Oh! not at once, of course. However, playing his part,
he ended by giving Massias numerous orders for Nathansohn and other
_coulissiers_, saying as he did so that he was acting on behalf of a
group of friends, which after all was true. When he went to bed, he had
taken up position as a 'bull,' with orders representing more than five
millions of francs.
At seven o'clock the next morning Huret called on Saccard and
acquainted him with what he had done at the Petite Bourse held on the
Boulevard in front of the Passage de l'Opéra. Here he had bought as
much as he could, but in a prudent way, so as not to bring about any
undue rise in prices. His orders represented a million francs; and
both, judging the stroke to be so far too modest a one, resolved to
renew the campaign. For this they had all the morning before them.
Before doing anything, however, they rushed upon the newspapers,
trembling with the fear that they might find the news printed in
them--a paragraph, a mere line which would annihilate all their plans.
But no! the Press knew nothing. It believed in the continuation of the
war, and every paper was full of telegrams giving detailed accounts
of the battle of Sadowa. If no report should leak out before two in
the afternoon, if they should have an hour before them when the Bourse
opened, they would, as Saccard put it, make a clear sweep at the cost
of the Jews. And then they again parted company, each on his own side
hastening to bring fresh millions into the field.
Saccard spent that morning in tramping the streets and sniffing the
air, experiencing such a desire to walk that he sent his brougham
home after his first call. Whilst in the Rue Vivienne he looked in at
Kolb's, where the jingle of gold fell delightfully on his ears, like
some promise of victory; and he had sufficient strength of mind to
say nothing to the banker, who, he found, knew nothing himself. Then
he went up to Mazaud's, not to give any fresh order, but simply to
feign anxiety respecting the one that he had given the night before;
and here also they were still in utter ignorance of the truth. Little
Flory alone caused him some anxiety by the persistent way in which he
hovered about him, but the sole cause of this was the young clerk's
profound admiration for the financial intelligence of the manager of
the Universal Bank. As his friend Mademoiselle Chuchu was becoming a
source of considerable expense to him, he had begun to speculate in a
small way on his own account, and longed to know what orders the great
man might give, so as to follow his lead.
At last, after a hasty repast at Champeaux', where he experienced
profound delight at hearing the pessimist lamentations of Moser, and
even Pillerault, both of whom predicted a further fall in prices,
Saccard found himself upon the Place de la Bourse. It was only
half-past twelve; but, as he put it, he wished to see everyone arrive.
The heat was overpowering; fierce sun-rays streamed down, whitening
the steps, whose reflections imparted to the peristyle the oppressive,
burning temperature of an oven. The unoccupied chairs were crackling in
this fiery air, whilst the speculators stood up seeking the protection
of the narrow shadows which the columns cast.
Under a tree in the garden Saccard caught sight of Busch and La
Méchain, who, on perceiving him, began talking with animation; and he
even fancied that they were about to approach him when all at once they
changed their minds. Was it possible that the news was known by these
low ragpickers of the Bourse, who were ever scouring the gutters for
such securities as might fall into them? For a moment he shuddered. But
he heard himself called by name, and recognised Maugendre and Captain
Chave seated on a bench and quarrelling together; for the former was
now always jeering at the captain's paltry ventures, which resulted in
the gain of no more than a louis a day, just as might have been the
case in some little country _café_ after innumerable hard-fought games
of piquet. Come, now, said Maugendre, could he not venture on a serious
stroke that afternoon in all security? Was not a fresh fall certain,
as sure to come as the sun was shining above them? And he called upon
Saccard to corroborate him. Was it not certain that there would be a
fall? For his own part, he had staked heavily on the fall, so convinced
of its coming that he would have ventured his entire fortune. Saccard
responded to this direct question by smiling and tossing his head in
an indefinite sort of way, feeling meantime a twinge of remorse at
the thought that he could not warn this poor man whom he had known so
industrious and clear-headed in the days when he sold awnings. However,
he had sworn to be dumb, and was swayed by the ferocity of the gambler
who has resolved that he will do nothing that may interfere with luck.
Just then, too, a fresh incident diverted his attention. The Baroness
Sandorff's brougham passed by. He watched it, and saw that on this
occasion it drew up in the Rue de la Banque. And all at once he
bethought himself of Baron Sandorff, the Councillor at the Austrian
Embassy. The Baroness must surely know the news, and would doubtless
spoil everything by some piece of feminine clumsiness. He had already
crossed the street, and began prowling around the brougham, which stood
there motionless and silent, destitute of all signs of life, with the
coachman stiffly erect upon his box. However, one of the windows was at
last lowered, and thereupon Saccard gallantly bowed and drew near.
'Well, Monsieur Saccard,' said the Baroness, 'prices are still falling,
I suppose?'
He fancied that she was preparing a trap for him. 'Why, yes, madame,'
he replied.
Then as she looked at him anxiously, with the wavering expression which
he had so often known among gamblers, he realised that she herself knew
no more than the others. A stream of hot blood thereupon ascended to
his brain, filling him with a sensation of beatitude.
'So you have nothing to tell me, Monsieur Saccard?' she resumed.
'Why, no, madame, nothing but what you must already know.'
And thereupon he left her, thinking as he walked away: 'You have
been none too amiable with me, and it will amuse me to see you get a
ducking.'
As he was returning to the Place de la Bourse again, the sight of
Gundermann, whom he espied in the distance emerging from the Rue
Vivienne, made his heart flutter once more. There could be no doubt
of it; distance might shorten the great Baron's figure, but it was
indeed he, walking slowly as was his wont, carrying his pale head erect
without looking at anybody, as though, in the midst of all that crowd,
he were alone in his royalty. And Saccard watched him with a feeling
of terror, seeking to interpret each movement that he made. On seeing
Nathansohn approach him, he imagined that all was lost. But his hopes
revived when he saw the _coulissier_ draw back with a discomfited air.
No, there was certainly nothing unusual about the great banker; he had
his everyday look. And all at once Saccard's heart leapt with joy,
for Gundermann had just entered the confectioner's shop to make his
customary purchase of sweetmeats for his little grand-daughters; and
that was a sure sign of his knowing nothing, for he never set foot in
the shop on days of crisis.
One o'clock struck and the bell announced the opening of the market. It
was a memorable Bourse, one of those great days of disaster--disaster
caused by a totally unexpected rise--which are so rare that they remain
legendary. At the outset, amid the overpowering heat, prices fell
yet lower. Then some sudden isolated purchases--the desultory fire
of skirmishers, as it were, before the opening of a battle--provoked
astonishment. But amidst the general distrust, things still remained
dull and heavy, when all at once the number of purchases began to
increase, demands sprang up in all directions, and Nathansohn at the
_coulisse_ under the colonnade, and Mazaud, Jacoby, and Delarocque in
the _corbeille_ within the building, were to be heard shouting that
they would take any stock at any price. And then there was a tremor, a
sudden ground-swell as it were, though nobody yet dared to rush into
the fight, so inexplicable was this sudden change in the tone of the
market.
Prices had but slightly risen, and Saccard had time to give Massias
fresh orders for Nathansohn. Then, as little Flory passed by on the
run, he asked him to hand Mazaud a _fiche_ on which he had written a
request to the broker to continue buying, to keep on at it indeed until
he sent him word to stop. Flory read what was written on the _fiche_ as
he trotted off, and, fired with confidence, followed the great man's
lead, at once effecting some purchases on his own account. And at a
quarter to two o'clock the thunderbolt fell in the midst of the crowded
Bourse. Austria surrendered Venetia to the Emperor; the war was over.
Whence had the news arrived? Nobody knew; but it came simultaneously
from every tongue, and, indeed, from the very flagstones. Someone had
brought it, and all repeated it in a growing clamour, like the loud
voice of an equinoctial tide. Prices then began to rise with furious
bounds amidst the frightful uproar; and before the bell rang out the
closing hour there was a difference of forty, fifty francs in many
quotations. It was an indescribable _mêlée_--one of those battles in
which confusion prevails, when soldiers and officers alike rush hither
and thither, thinking only of saving their skins, but unable to do so
because they are blinded, deafened, and no longer possess any clear
idea of the situation. Perspiration streamed from the foreheads of the
combatants, whilst the relentless sun beat upon the steps, wrapping the
Bourse in the blaze of a conflagration.
When settling day came round, and it was possible to form an idea of
the disaster, it proved an immense one. The battle-field was strewn
with wounded and ruined. 'Bear' Moser was one of the most severely
hit. Pillerault, who on this one occasion had despaired of a rise,
paid dearly for his weakness. Maugendre was out of pocket to the
tune of fifty thousand francs, his first serious loss. The Baroness
Sandorff had such heavy differences to make good that Delcambre, it
was reported, refused to pay for her; and she turned quite white
with rage and hatred at the mere mention of her husband, the Embassy
councillor, who had held the despatch in his own hands before Rougon
had ever seen it, and yet had not said a word to her on the subject.
But the big bankers, the Jewish bankers especially, had been subjected
to a terrible defeat--a real massacre, so to say. It was asserted that
Gundermann, for his part, had lost eight millions of francs. And this
astounded people. How was it that he had not been warned--he, the
undisputed master of the market, to whom Cabinet Ministers were but
clerks and states, dependencies? There had evidently been one of those
extraordinary combinations of circumstances which bring about great
strokes of chance. It was an unforeseen, an idiotic disaster that had
befallen the market, a disaster outside the pale of logic and reason.
However, the story spread, and Saccard passed for a great man. He had
raked in nearly all the money lost by the 'bears.' Personally, he had
put a couple of million francs in his pockets. The rest was to be
placed in the coffers of the Universal Bank, or rather in the hands of
the directors. With great difficulty he succeeded in persuading Madame
Caroline that Hamelin's share of the plunder so legitimately gained
from the Jews was a million. Huret, having helped in the work, had
taken care to secure for himself a princely share of the booty. As for
the others, the Daigremonts, the Bohains, they needed no pressing to
accept what was offered them. Thanks and congratulations were voted to
the eminent manager unanimously. And one heart especially was warm with
gratitude to Saccard, the heart of little Flory, who had gained ten
thousand francs, a small fortune, which would enable him to live with
Chuchu in a little nest in the Rue Condorcet, and join Gustave Sédille
and other friends at expensive restaurants in the evening. As for
Jantrou, it was found necessary to make him a considerable present, as
he was very angry at not having been forewarned. Dejoie alone remained
in the dumps, fated to experience eternal regret at having one evening
scented fortune vaguely, mysteriously passing by in the air, all to no
purpose.
This, Saccard's first triumph, seemed as it were some florescence of
the Empire which now had attained its apogee. He became a part of the
splendour of the reign, one of its glorious reflections. On the very
evening when he waxed powerful and wealthy amidst so many shattered
fortunes, at the very hour when the Bourse became but a field of
ruin, all Paris adorned itself with bunting and illuminated as on
the occasion of some great victory; and festivities at the Tuileries
and rejoicings in the streets proclaimed Napoleon III. the master
of Europe--so high and mighty that emperors and kings chose him as
arbiter in their quarrels, and handed provinces over to him that he
might dispose of them between them. No doubt there were protests at
the Chamber of Deputies; prophets of misfortune confusedly predicted a
terrible future. Prussia increased, strengthened by all that France had
tolerated, Austria beaten, and Italy ungrateful. But bursts of laughter
and shouts of anger drowned those anxious voices; and on the morrow
of Sadowa, Paris, the centre of the world, set all her avenues and
monuments ablaze with illuminations, pending the coming of those black,
icy nights, those gasless nights, through which the red fuses of shells
were destined to wing their flight.
Overflowing with success, Saccard that evening walked the streets,
the Place de la Concorde, the Champs Élysées, all the footways where
_lampions_ were lighted. Carried along in the full-tide stream of
promenaders, his eyes dazzled by the day-like brilliancy, it was
possible for him to imagine that folks had illuminated in his honour.
For was he not also an unexpected conqueror, one who rose to increased
power in the midst of the disasters of others? A single annoyance
tempered his satisfaction--the anger displayed by Rougon, who, in
a terrible fury, on realising the origin of the Bourse stroke, had
given Huret his dismissal. So the great man had not shown himself a
good brother by sending him (Saccard) the all-important news. Must he
dispense with that high patronage? must he even attack the omnipotent
Minister? All at once, while he was standing in front of the Palace of
the Legion of Honour, which was surmounted by a gigantic cross of fire,
glowing brightly against the black sky, he boldly resolved to do so
on the day when he should feel himself sufficiently strong. And then,
intoxicated by the songs of the crowd and the flapping of the flags, he
retraced his steps through flaming Paris to the Rue Saint Lazare.
Two months later, in September, Saccard, rendered audacious by his
victory over Gundermann, decided that he must give fresh impulse to
the Universal. At the shareholders' meeting held at the end of April
the balance-sheet had shown for the year 1865 a profit of nine million
francs, inclusive of the premium of twenty francs on each of the fifty
thousand new shares issued when the capital had been doubled. The
preliminary expenses had now been entirely paid, the shareholders had
received their five per cent., and the directors their ten per cent.;
whilst, in addition to the regulation percentage, a sum of five million
francs had been carried to the reserve fund. With the remaining million
they had contrived to pay a dividend of ten francs per share. This was
a fine result for an institution which had not yet been two years in
existence. Saccard, however, worked in a feverish way, cultivating
the financial soil on a violent system, heating it, overheating it
at the risk of burning the crop; and thus he prevailed, first on
the directors, and then on a special shareholders' meeting held on
September 15, to authorise a fresh increase of capital. In fact, the
capital was again doubled--raised from fifty to a hundred millions of
francs--by the creation of one hundred thousand new shares, exclusively
reserved to existing shareholders, share per share. However, these new
shares were issued at no less than six hundred and seventy-five francs,
inclusive of a premium of one hundred and seventy-five francs which was
to be paid into the reserve fund. The Universal's growing successes,
the profitable strokes which it had already made, and especially the
great enterprises which it was about to launch--such were the reasons
brought forward to justify this enormous increase of the capital, twice
doubled at short intervals; for it was certainly necessary to endow
the Bank with an importance and strength commensurate to the interests
it represented. Moreover, this increase of capital had an immediate
effect; the shares, which for some months had remained stationary,
their average quotation at the Bourse being seven hundred and fifty
francs, rose to nine hundred francs in three days.
Hamelin, who had not been able to return from the East to preside
over the extraordinary meeting of shareholders, wrote his sister an
anxious letter, in which he expressed his fears respecting this mode
of conducting the affairs of the Universal, this fashion of madly
forcing the pace. He well divined that false declarations had again
been made at Maître Lelorrain's office. And, indeed, all the new shares
had not been subscribed, as the law required, and the Bank remained
in possession of those refused by its shareholders. The instalments
on allotment not being paid, these shares were transferred by some
jugglery in the book-keeping to the Sabatani account. Moreover, by
borrowing the names of some of its directors and employees, the Bank
had subscribed a portion of its own issue, so that it now held nearly
thirty thousand of its shares, representing seventeen and a half
millions of francs.
Not only was this illegal, but the situation might become dangerous,
for experience has proved that every financial establishment which
speculates in its own stock is lost. Nevertheless, Madame Caroline
answered her brother gaily, twitting him with having now become the
trembler, to such a point that it was she, formerly the suspicious
one, who had to reassure him. She said that she was always on the
watch, and could detect nothing suspicious; on the contrary, she was
wonderstruck by the great things, all so clear and logical, which she
was witnessing. The truth was that she, of course, knew nothing of the
things which were hidden from her, and was, moreover, blinded by her
admiration for Saccard, the sympathetic emotion into which she was
thrown on beholding that little man's activity and intelligence.
In December Universal shares commanded more than a thousand francs.
And in presence of this triumph there was a flutter among the big-wigs
of the banking world. Gundermann, who was still to be met at times
on the Place de la Bourse entering the confectioner's shop to buy
sweetmeats with an automatic step and absorbed air, had paid the eight
millions which he had lost without complaining, without a single of his
intimates hearing a word of anger or rancour fall from his lips. As a
rule, whenever he lost in this fashion, which rarely happened, he would
say that it served him right and would teach him to be less careless;
and folks would smile at this, for carelessness on Gundermann's part
was scarcely to be imagined. But the hard lesson he had received must
this time have remained upon his heart; the idea that he, so cold, so
phlegmatic, so thoroughly a master of men and things, should have been
beaten by that break-neck fellow, that passionate lunatic Saccard, must
surely have been unendurable to him. And, indeed, from that very moment
he began to watch, certain that in time he should have his revenge.
In presence of the general infatuation for the Universal, he at once
took up position, knowing, as he did, by long observation, that success
achieved with unnatural rapidity, that lying prosperity conduct to the
most complete disasters. However, the figure of a thousand francs, at
which the shares were now quoted, was still a reasonable one, and he
waited for further developments before beginning to 'bear' the stock.
His theory was that no man could bring about events at the Bourse,
that at the utmost one could foresee them and profit by them when they
came to pass. Logic was sole ruler; truth, in speculation as in other
things, was an omnipotent force. As soon as the price of Universals
should have risen to an unduly exaggerated figure there would come a
collapse; a fall would take place, it was a mathematical certainty; and
he would simply be there to see his calculations realised and pocket
his profits. And he already decided that he would open the campaign
when the quotations should have risen to fifteen hundred francs. At
that price he would begin selling Universals, moderately at first, but
to an increasing extent as each settling day came by, in accordance
with a predetermined plan. He did not need to form any syndicate of
'bears,' his own efforts would suffice; sensible people would clearly
divine the truth and follow his play. That noisy Universal, that
Universal which was so rapidly taking up a big position in the market,
which was rising like a menace against the great Jew bankers--he would
coldly wait till it should crack of itself, and then with a shove of
the shoulder he would throw it to the ground.
Later on, folks related that it was Gundermann himself who secretly
facilitated Saccard's purchase of an old building in the Rue de
Londres, which he had the intention of demolishing in order to raise
upon the site the monument of his dreams, the palace in which he
purposed installing his bank in the most sumptuous style. He had
succeeded in winning over the directors with regard to this matter, and
the workmen began their task in the middle of October.
On the day when the foundation stone was laid with great ceremony,
Saccard repaired to the newspaper office at about four o'clock, and
whilst awaiting the return of Jantrou, who had gone to carry some
reports of the solemnity to friendly contemporaries, he received
a visit from the Baroness Sandorff. She had at first asked for the
editor, and then, as though by chance, came upon the manager of the
Universal, who gallantly placed himself at her disposal with regard
to any information that she might desire, and ushered her into his
own private room at the end of the passage. And this interview proved
decisive.
It happened, however, that Madame Caroline, who had been shopping in
the neighbourhood, called at the office at this very time. She would
occasionally come up in this way, either to give Saccard an answer
about some matter or other, or to ask for news. Moreover, she knew
Dejoie, for whom she had found a situation there, and usually stopped
to chat with him for a moment, well pleased with the gratitude which
he displayed towards her. On this occasion she did not find him in the
ante-room, and so turned into the passage, where she ran against him
just as he was returning from listening at Saccard's door. This was now
quite a disease with him; he trembled with fever, and applied his ear
to every keyhole in the hope of overhearing some Bourse secret.
'He is in, isn't he?' said Madame Caroline, trying to pass on.
But Dejoie stopped her, stammering, lacking the time to prepare a lie.
'Yes, he's there, but you can't go in.'
'Can't go in. Why is that?'
Then he, who knew nothing of her position with regard to Saccard,
allowed her to divine the truth.
For a moment Madame Caroline remained motionless. In the dim passage
the livid pallor of her face could not be detected. She had just felt
so keen, so cruel a pain in her heart that she could not remember
having ever suffered so much before; and it was the stupor caused by
this frightful pang which nailed her there. What should she do?--force
her way in, create a scandal?
Whilst she still stood there, dazed, destitute of will, Marcelle, who
had come to fetch her husband, approached her gaily. 'Oh, is it you,
dear madame?' the young woman exclaimed. 'Just fancy, we are going
to the theatre this evening. Oh! it's quite an affair, for we can't
afford expense. But Paul has discovered a little restaurant where we
shall feast ourselves at thirty-five sous a head.'
Just then Jordan entered the passage and laughingly interrupted his
wife. 'Two courses, a decanter of wine, and as much bread as one can
eat,' said he.
'And then,' continued Marcelle, 'we shan't take a cab. It is so amusing
to walk home at a late hour. As we are rich to-night, we shall spend
a franc on an almond cake to take home with us. It will be a perfect
_fête_, a reckless jollification.'
She went off, delighted, on her husband's arm; and Madame Caroline,
who had returned to the ante-room with them, now found sufficient
strength to smile. 'I hope you will amuse yourselves,' she murmured in
a trembling voice.
Then she in her turn departed. She loved Saccard, and carried away with
her a feeling of astonishment and grief--grief, as it were, for some
shameful sore which she was unwilling to reveal.