newspaper on his table, and pointed to the columns that were marked
with red pencil. 'There are not ten lines free from offence!' he
exclaimed. 'In your leading article, you appear to cast a doubt upon
the government's capacities in the matter of repressive measures. In
this paragraph on the second page you appear to allude to me when you
speak of the insolent triumph of parvenus. Among your miscellaneous
items there are a lot of filthy stories, brainless attacks upon the
upper classes.'
The editor clasped his hands in great alarm, and tried to get in a
word. 'I assure your excellency--I am quite in despair that your
excellency could suppose for a moment--I, too, who have such very warm
admiration for your excellency----'
Rougon, however, paid no attention to this. 'And the worst of the
matter is, sir,' he continued, 'that everyone is aware of your
connection with the administration. How is it likely that the other
newspapers will respect us, when those in our own pay do not? All my
friends have been denouncing these abominations to me this morning.'
Then the editor joined Rougon in declaiming against the incriminated
matter. He had read none of those articles and paragraphs, he said. But
he would at once dismiss all his contributors. If his excellency wished
it, he would send him a proof-copy of the paper every morning. Rougon,
who had relieved his feelings, declined this offer. He had not the time
to examine a proof-copy, he said. Just as he was dismissing the editor,
however, a fresh thought seemed to strike him. 'Oh, I was forgetting,'
he said. 'That well-bred woman who betrays her husband in the novel you
are publishing serially supplies a detestable argument against good
education. It ought not to be alleged that a woman of that kind could
possibly commit such a sin.'
'The serial has had a great success,' murmured the editor, again
feeling alarmed. 'I have read it, and have found it very interesting.'
'Ah! you've read it, have you? Well, now, does this wretched woman feel
any remorse in the end?'
The editor carried his hand to his forehead, amazed, and trying to
remember. 'Remorse? No, I think not,' he replied. Rougon had already
opened the door, and as he closed it upon the journalist, he called
after him: 'It is absolutely necessary that she should feel remorse!
Insist upon the author filling her with remorse!'
X
A TRIP TO NIORT
Rougon had written to Du Poizat and M. Kahn asking them to spare him
the infliction of an official reception at the gates of Niort. He
arrived there one Saturday evening a little before seven o'clock, and
at once went to the prefecture, with the intention of resting till
noon the following day, for he was feeling very tired. After dinner,
however, several people called. Doubtless the news of the minister's
arrival had already spread through the town. A small drawing-room near
the dining-room was thrown open, and a kind of impromptu reception was
organised. Rougon, as he stood between the two windows, was obliged to
stifle his yawns and reply as pleasantly as he could to the greetings
offered to him.
One of the deputies of the department, the very attorney who had
usurped M. Kahn's position as official candidate, was the first to make
his appearance. He arrived quite out of breath, half scared, wearing a
frock-coat and coloured trousers, for which he apologised on the ground
that he had only just returned on foot from one of his farms, and had
been anxious to pay his respects to his excellency as soon as possible.
Then a short fat man appeared, wearing a somewhat tight-fitting dress
coat and white gloves. There was an air of ceremonious regret about
him. He was the mayor's first assessor, and had just been informed by
his servant of Rougon's arrival. The mayor, he said, would be greatly
distressed. He was not expecting his excellency till the following day
and was at present at his estate of Les Varades, some six miles off.
After the assessor there came a procession of six gentlemen with big
feet, big hands, and big heavy faces. The prefect presented them to
Rougon as distinguished members of the Statistical Society. Then the
head-master of the state college arrived, bringing with him his wife,
a charming blonde of eight-and-twenty. She was a Parisienne, and her
dresses were the wonder of Niort. She told Rougon somewhat bitterly of
her great dislike for provincial life.
M. Kahn, who had dined with the minister and the prefect, was on his
side hotly plied with questions respecting the next day's ceremony. It
had been arranged that the party would repair to a spot some two or
three miles from the town, in the district known as Les Moulins, where
it was intended that the first tunnel on the new line from Niort to
Angers should be pierced; and there the Minister of the Interior was
to fire the first mine. Rougon, who had assumed a homely good-natured
manner, said that he merely wanted to do what he could to honour an old
friend's laborious enterprise. He moreover considered himself to be an
adopted son of the department of Deux-Sèvres, which in former days had
sent him to the Legislative Assembly. To tell the truth, however, the
real object of his journey was in accordance with Du Poizat's strongly
urged advice to display himself, in the plenitude of power, to his old
constituents, so as to make sure of their support should it ever become
necessary for him to enter the Corps Législatif.
From the windows of the little drawing-room the town could be seen
black and slumberous. No further visitors called. The news of the
minister's arrival had come too late in the day. This circumstance,
however, gave an additional feeling of triumph to the few zealous ones
who had put in an appearance at the prefect's. They gave no hint of
retiring, but seemed quite elated with joy at being the first to meet
his excellency in private conversation. The mayor's assessor repeated
in a doleful voice, through which rang a note of jubilation: '_Mon
Dieu_! how distressed the mayor will be! And the presiding judge, too,
and the public prosecutor and all the other gentlemen!'
Towards nine o'clock, however, it might have been supposed that the
whole town was in the ante-room, for a loud tramping of feet was
heard there. Then a servant entered the drawing-room and announced
that the chief commissary of police desired to pay his respects to
his excellency. And it was Gilquin who made his appearance: Gilquin,
looking quite gorgeous in evening dress and straw-coloured gloves and
kid boots. Du Poizat had given him a place in his department. He bore
himself very well, the only traces of his old manner being a somewhat
swaggering motion of his shoulders and a marked disinclination to
part with his hat, which he persisted in holding against his hip in
imitation of a pose which he had studied on a tailor's fashion-plate.
He bowed to Rougon and addressed him with exaggerated humility. 'I
venture to recall myself to the kind recollection of your excellency,
whom I had the honour of meeting several times in Paris,' said he.
Rougon smiled, and he and Gilquin chatted for a few moments. Then
the latter made his way into the dining-room, where tea had just
been served, and he there found M. Kahn, who was glancing over a
list of the guests invited to the next day's ceremony. In the little
drawing-room the conversation had now turned upon the grandeur of the
Emperor's reign. Du Poizat, standing by Rougon's side, was extolling
the Empire, and they bowed to one another as though they were mutually
congratulating themselves upon some personal achievement, while the
citizens of Niort clustered round, agape with respectful admiration.
'What clever fellows they are, eh?' said Gilquin, who was watching the
scene through the open doorway.
Then, as he proceeded to pour some rum into his tea, he gave M. Kahn
a nudge. Du Poizat, lean and enthusiastic, with his irregular white
teeth and feverish, childish face all aglow with triumph, appeared
to take Gilquin's fancy. 'Ah, you should have seen him when he first
arrived in the department,' said the commissary in a low voice. 'I was
with him. He stamped his feet angrily as he walked along. He no doubt
felt a grudge against the people here: and since he's been prefect,
he's been amusing himself by avenging all his youthful grievances. The
townspeople who knew him when he was a poor miserable fellow don't feel
inclined to smile now when they see him go past. He makes a strong
prefect; he's quite cut out for the post. He's very different from that
fellow Langlade, whom he superseded, a mere ladies' man, as fair as a
girl. We came across photographs of ladies in very low dresses even
amongst the official papers in his room.'
Then Gilquin paused. He fancied that the wife of the head-master had
her eyes on him. And so, desirous of displaying the graces of his
person, he bent forward again to speak to M. Kahn. 'Have you heard
of Du Poizat's meeting with his father?' he asked. 'Oh, it was the
most amusing thing in the world. The old man, you know, is a retired
process-server, who has got a nice little pile together by lending
petty sums by the week at high interest; and he now lives like a wolf
in an old ruin of a house where he keeps loaded guns in the hall. Well,
he had told his son a score of times that he would come to the gallows;
and Du Poizat had long dreamt of having his revenge. That, indeed, was
one of his reasons for wanting to be prefect here. So one morning he
put on his finest uniform, and, under the pretext of making a round,
he went and knocked at the old man's house. Then, after a good quarter
of an hour's parley, the father opened the door, a pale little old man
he was, and he gazed with a stupefied look at his son's gold-laced
uniform. Well, now, guess what was the first thing he said, as soon as
he discovered that his son had become the prefect! "Don't send for the
taxes any more, Leopold!" Yes, those were his very words. He didn't
show the slightest fatherly emotion. When Du Poizat came back, he was
biting his lips, and his face was as white as a sheet. His father's
unruffled tranquillity had quite exasperated him. Ah! he'll never
manage to subdue the old man!'
M. Kahn nodded his head discreetly. He had slipped the list of guests
into his pocket, and was now sipping a cup of tea while glancing
occasionally into the adjoining room. 'Rougon is half asleep,' he said.
'Those idiots ought to have enough sense to leave him and let him go to
bed. I want him to be in good form for to-morrow.'
'I hadn't seen him for some time,' said Gilquin. 'He has put on more
flesh.' Then, lowering his voice, he continued: 'They managed it very
cleverly, those two fine fellows! They worked some quiet trick or
other out of that bomb affair at the Opera which I had warned them
of. It came off, as you know; but Rougon pretends that he went to the
prefecture and that no one there would believe him. Well, that's his
business, and there's no occasion to say any more about it. On the day
of the affair, Du Poizat stood me a ripping _déjeuner_ at a café on
the boulevards. Oh! what a time we had! We went to a theatre in the
evening, I think, but I haven't any very distinct recollection of it,
for I slept for two days afterwards.'
M. Kahn now appeared to find Gilquin's confidences somewhat alarming,
for he got up and left the dining-room. Then the commissary felt quite
convinced that the head-master's wife was certainly gazing at him.
So he also went back into the drawing-room and busied himself about
her, and ended by bringing her some tea, biscuits and cake. He really
carried himself very well; he looked like a gentleman who had been
badly brought up, and this appeared to influence the beautiful blonde
in his favour.
However, the deputy was now engaged in demonstrating the necessity of
having a new church at Niort; the mayor's assessor asked for a bridge;
and the head-master urged the desirability of extending the college
buildings, while the six members of the Statistical Society silently
nodded approval of everything.
'Well, we will see about these matters to-morrow, gentlemen,' said
Rougon, whose eyelids were half-closed. 'I am here for the purpose of
inquiring into your needs and doing what I can to satisfy them.'
Ten o'clock was just striking when a servant came into the room and
said something to the prefect, who at once whispered a few words in the
minister's ear. The latter then hastened out of the drawing room. He
found Madame Correur waiting for him in an adjoining apartment. She was
accompanied by a tall, slim girl with a colourless freckled face.
'So you are in Niort, are you?' Rougon exclaimed as he joined them.
'Only since this afternoon,' replied Madame Correur. 'We are staying
just opposite, on the Place de la Préfecture, at the Hôtel de Paris.'
And then she explained that she had come from Coulonges, where she had
been spending a couple of days. But suddenly she paused to direct the
minister's attention to the tall girl beside her. 'This,' said she, 'is
Mademoiselle Herminie Billecoq, who has been kind enough to accompany
me.'
Herminie Billecoq made a ceremonious bow, and Madame Correur proceeded:
'I didn't say anything to you about this expedition of mine, because I
thought you might oppose it; but I really couldn't help going. I was
very anxious to see my brother. When I heard of your coming to Niort, I
hastened here. We looked out for you and saw you enter the prefecture,
but we thought it better to defer our visit till later on. These little
towns are much given to malicious scandal!'
Rougon nodded assent. He was indeed thinking that plump Madame Correur
with her painted face and bright yellow dress might, to provincial
eyes, very well appear to be a compromising person.
'Well, and did you see your brother?' he asked.
'Yes,' Madame Correur replied, clenching her teeth; 'yes, I saw him.
Madame Martineau didn't venture to turn me out of the house. She was
burning some sugar over the fire when I went in. Oh, my poor brother!
I knew that he was ill, but it gave me quite a shock to see him so
emaciated. He has promised that he won't disinherit me; it would be
contrary to his principles. He has made his will; and his property will
be divided between me and Madame Martineau. Isn't that so, Herminie?'
'Yes, the property is to be divided,' declared the tall girl. 'He told
you so when you first got there, and repeated it when he saw you away
from the door. Oh! there's no doubt about it; I heard him say so.'
Then Rougon tried to get rid of the two women by saying: 'Well, I'm
delighted to hear it. You will feel much easier now. These family
quarrels always get made up. Come, good-night; I'm going to bed now.'
But Madame Correur detained him. She had taken her handkerchief out of
her pocket and was dabbing her eyes with it, seemingly affected with
sudden grief. 'Oh, my poor Martineau!' said she, 'he was so kind and
good, and forgave me with such readiness! I wish you knew how good he
is, my dear friend. It is on his account that I have hurried here, to
petition you in his favour----'
Her tears prevented her from saying more, and she began to sob. Rougon
was at a loss to know what it meant, and looked at the two women in
astonishment. Then Mademoiselle Herminie Billecoq also began to cry,
but less demonstratively than Madame Correur. She was a very sensitive
young person, and was readily affected by another's grief.
'Monsieur Martineau has compromised himself in politics,' she stammered
amidst her tears.
Thereupon Madame Correur began to speak with great volubility. 'You
will remember,' she said, 'that I hinted my fears to you one day. I had
a presentiment of what would happen. Martineau was showing Republican
proclivities. At the last election he behaved very wildly, and made
the most desperate exertions in favour of the opposition candidate. I
was aware of things which I don't want to mention. However, it was all
bound to have a bad result. When I got to the Golden Lion at Coulonges,
where we had engaged a room, I questioned the people there, and I
learnt a good deal more from them. Martineau has been guilty of all
kinds of follies. No one in the neighbourhood would be surprised if he
were to be arrested. Every day they expect to see the gendarmes come
and take him off. You can imagine what a shock this was to me! And so I
thought of you, my dear friend----'
Her utterance was again choked by her sobs. Then Rougon tried to
reassure her. He would mention the subject to Du Poizat, he said, and
he would stop any proceedings that might have been instituted. 'I am
the master,' he even added; 'come, go to bed and sleep quietly.'
But Madame Correur shook her head and twisted her pocket-handkerchief.
Her eyes were quite dry now. 'Ah! you don't know everything,' she
said. 'It is a more serious matter than you suppose. He takes Madame
Martineau to mass, but stays outside himself and proclaims that he
never sets foot in a church; and this causes a dreadful scandal every
Sunday. Then, too, he frequents a retired lawyer in the neighbourhood,
one of the men of '48, and can be heard talking to him for hours in the
most dreadful way. Suspicious-looking men, too, have often been seen to
slip into his garden at night-time, with the intention, no doubt, of
receiving directions from him.'
Rougon shrugged his shoulders at each fresh detail, but Mademoiselle
Herminie Billecoq, as though shocked by such tolerance, added sharply:
'And he receives letters with red seals from all sorts of countries.
The postman told us that. He didn't want to speak about it at first,
he was quite pale. We had to give him twenty sous. And then, a month
ago, Monsieur Martineau left home for a week, without anyone in the
neighbourhood having the slightest idea where he went. The landlady of
the Golden Lion told us that he hadn't even taken any luggage with him.'
'Herminie, I beg of you to be quiet!' said Madame Correur uneasily.
'Martineau has got quite sufficient against him as it is. There is no
occasion for us to add any more.'
Rougon was now listening and glancing at the two women in turn. He
had become very serious. 'Well, if he has compromised himself so much
as that----' he began, pausing, however, as he fancied that he could
detect a fiery gleam igniting in Madame Correur's troubled eyes. 'Well,
I will do all I can,' he resumed; 'but I make no promises.'
'It is all up with him; it is all up with him!' exclaimed Madame
Correur. 'I feel quite certain of it. We don't want to say anything;
but if we told all----' Then in her turn she paused and began to bite
her pocket handkerchief. 'And to think that I hadn't seen him for
twenty years, and have only now just seen him to be parted from him for
ever, perhaps! He was so kind, so very kind!'
Herminie, however, gently shrugged her shoulders and made signs to
Rougon, as if to tell him that he must excuse a sister's despair, but
that the old attorney was really a great rascal. 'If I were you,' she
said to Madame Correur, 'I would tell everything. It will be much the
best.'
Then the elder woman seemed to brace herself up for a great effort.
'You remember,' she said, lowering her voice, 'the "Te Deums," which
were sung everywhere, when the Emperor so miraculously escaped being
murdered in front of the Opera-house? Well, on the very day when they
were singing the "Te Deum" at Coulonges, one of Martineau's neighbours
asked him if he wasn't going to church, and the wretched man replied,
"Why should I go to church, indeed? I don't care a fig for your
Emperor!"'
'I don't care a fig for your Emperor!' repeated Mademoiselle Herminie
Billecoq, with an air of consternation.
'You can understand my alarm now,' continued the retired boarding-house
keeper. 'As I told you before, no one in the neighbourhood would be the
least surprised to see him arrested.'
As she spoke these last words, she fixed her eyes searchingly on
Rougon. He made no immediate reply. He seemed to be trying to read her
flabby face, her pale eyes, which blinked beneath light and scanty
brows. For a moment his gaze rested on her plump white neck. Then he
threw out his arms and said: 'I can do nothing, I assure you. I am not
the master.'
And he gave his reasons. He felt certain scruples, he said, about
interfering in affairs of this kind. If the law had been invoked,
matters would have to take their course. It would even have been better
if he had not known Madame Correur, as his friendship for her would
tie his hands, for he had sworn never to render certain services to
his friends. However, he would inquire into the matter. And he tried
to console her, as though her brother were already on his way to some
penal settlement. She bent her head, and her sobs shook the big coil
of light hair which lay on the nape of her neck. Presently she grew
calmer, and as she took leave, she pushed Herminie in front of her,
exclaiming: 'Mademoiselle Herminie Billecoq; but I fancy I have already
introduced her to you. Please excuse me, my head is in such a state.
She is the young lady for whom we succeeded in obtaining a dowry. The
officer who seduced her has not yet been able to marry her on account
of the interminable formalities which have to be gone through. Thank
his excellency, my dear.'
The tall girl expressed her thanks, blushing, as she did so, like an
innocent maiden in whose presence some indelicate remark has been made.
Madame Correur let her leave the room before her; then she pressed
Rougon's hand tightly, and, bending towards him, said: 'I rely upon
you, Eugène!'
When the minister returned to the little drawing-room, he found it
deserted. Du Poizat had succeeded in getting rid of the deputy, the
mayor's assessor and the six members of the Statistical Society. M.
Kahn had also taken his departure, after making an appointment for
ten o'clock the next morning. In the dining-room there only remained
the head-master's wife and Gilquin, who were eating little cakes, and
chatting about Paris. Gilquin made soft eyes at the lady and talked to
her about the races, the picture-shows, and a new piece at the Comédie
Française, with the ease of a man to whom all kinds of life were
familiar. The head-master, in the meantime, was speaking in a low tone
to the prefect about the fourth form professor, who was suspected of
Republican proclivities.
However, eleven o'clock struck. The remaining visitors rose and bowed
to his excellency, and Gilquin was just about to retire with the
head-master and his wife, to the latter of whom he had offered his arm,
when Rougon detained him.
'Monsieur le Commissaire,' he said, 'a word with you, I beg.'
When they were alone together, he addressed himself to the commissary
and prefect simultaneously: 'What is this business of Martineau's?' he
asked. 'Has the man really compromised himself?'
Gilquin smiled, and Du Poizat proceeded to give a few particulars:
'I wasn't thinking of taking any steps in the affair,' he said. 'The
man has certainly been denounced to me, and I have received letters
about him. There is no doubt that he mixes himself up in politics. But
there have already been four arrests in the department, and I should
have preferred making up my five, which was the number you fixed, by
locking up the master of the fourth form at the college here who reads
revolutionary books to his pupils.'
'I have been told of some very serious things,' said Rougon sternly.
'His sister's tears must not be allowed to save this man Martineau,
if he is really as dangerous as is alleged. The public safety is at
stake.' Then he turned towards Gilquin. 'What is your opinion on the
matter?' he asked.
'I will arrest him in the morning,' the commissary replied. 'I know all
about the matter. I have seen Madame Correur at the Hôtel de Paris,
where I generally dine.'
Du Poizat made no objection. He took a little memorandum-book from his
pocket, struck out a name, and wrote another in its place, at the same
time recommending the commissary of police to keep his eye upon the
master of the fourth form. Rougon accompanied Gilquin to the door.
'This man Martineau is not very well, I believe,' he said. 'Go to
Coulonges yourself, and treat him decently.'
Gilquin pulled himself up with an offended air, and setting aside all
respect for his excellency, familiarly exclaimed: 'Do you take me for
a mere common policeman? Ask Du Poizat to tell you about the druggist
whom I arrested on the day before yesterday. There was a lady with him,
but nobody knows it. I always act with the greatest discretion.'