room was full of noise. Madame Correur was telling Madame Bouchard of
her latest desire, which was to go to Coulonges and die there in the
family home. She grew quite pathetic as she spoke of the neighbourhood
where she had been born, and she declared that she would compel Madame
Martineau to give up the house which was full of the associations of
her childhood. Meantime, as was fatal, the men were again harping on
the subject of Rougon. M. d'Escorailles was describing the anger of
his father and mother, who had written to him upon learning how Rougon
was abusing his power, bidding him break with the minister and return
to the Council of State. The colonel, on his side, related how the
fat man had flatly refused to ask the Emperor for a post for him in
the imperial palaces. Even M. Béjuin complained that his Majesty had
never visited the cut-glass works at Saint Florent upon the occasion
of his journey to Bourges, although Rougon had solemnly promised to
obtain that favour. And amidst all this babel, Countess Balbi reclined
smiling, on her couch, looking the while at her still plump hands.
'Flaminio!' she said, softly. Then the tall footman took a little
tortoise-shell box full of mint lozenges out of his waistcoat pocket,
and the Countess crunched these lozenges with an air of quiet enjoyment.
It was nearly midnight when Delestang returned home. When they saw him
raise the hangings of the doorway leading to the boudoir, they all
became silent and turned anxiously towards him. But he let the curtain
fall again; there was no one with him. Then, after a further pause,
the visitors broke into various exclamations:
'Are you by yourself?'
'You haven't brought him with you then?'
'Have you lost the fat man on the way?'
Truth to tell, there was a general feeling of relief. Delestang
explained that Rougon had felt very tired and had left him at the
corner of the Rue Marbeuf.
'And a good thing, too!' exclaimed Clorinde, stretching herself out on
the bed; 'he's by no means entertaining.'
This was the signal for a fresh outburst of complaint and accusation.
Delestang protested and tried to get a word in; for he usually made
a pretence of defending Rougon. 'There is no doubt that he might
have acted better than he has done towards certain of his friends,'
he slowly said as soon as he was allowed to speak. 'But, in spite
of everything, he's a wonderfully clever fellow. I myself shall be
eternally grateful to him.'
'Grateful for what?' cried M. Kahn, snappishly.
'For all that he has done----'
But the others angrily interrupted him. Rougon had never done anything
for him, they cried. What was it that he supposed Rougon had done for
him?
'You quite surprise me!' said the colonel. 'It is ridiculous to carry
modesty to that extent. You don't stand in need of anyone's help, my
dear friend. You have succeeded through your own merits.'
Then they all began to sound Delestang's praises. His model farm
at La Chamade was something unparalleled, they asserted; it had
long ago proved that he possessed all the qualifications of an able
administrator and statesman. He had a quick eye, a clear mind, and a
hand that was energetic without being rough. And besides, had not the
Emperor himself manifested the greatest appreciation of him all along?
His Majesty and himself were in accord upon almost every point.
'Pooh!' M. Kahn ended by saying; 'it is you who keep Rougon up. If you
weren't his friend and didn't support him in the council, he would have
come to grief a fortnight ago!'
Delestang, however, went on with his protestations. He himself might
indeed be of some service, but it was only right to give everyone his
due. That very evening, at the Ministry of Justice, in discussing
a very complicated financial question, Rougon had given proof of
extraordinary lucidity of mind.
'Oh yes, I daresay,' said M. La Rouquette scornfully; 'the cunning of a
smart attorney.'
Clorinde had not yet opened her lips. The visitors kept glancing at her
as though they expected her to say something. But for some time she
rolled her head on her pillow, as though she were trying to rub the
nape of her neck.
'That's right; scold him,' she said at last, speaking of her husband,
though not mentioning him by name. 'He will have to be beaten into
taking his real place.'
'The position of Minister for Agriculture and Commerce is quite a
secondary one,' remarked M. Kahn in order to precipitate matters.
This was touching a sore spot. Clorinde was annoyed at her husband
being shelved to what she considered a minor post. And she now sharply
sprang into a sitting posture, and let fall the words that everyone had
been waiting for: 'He can go to the office of the Interior as soon as
ever we wish it,' said she.
Delestang tried to speak, but all the company rushed towards him amid
an outburst of delight. Then at last he seemed to give in, a rosy flush
suffused his cheeks, his handsome face fairly beamed with pleasure.
Madame Correur and Madame Bouchard whispered to each other that he was
remarkably good looking, and the latter, with that perverted taste
which makes some women admire baldness, cast loving glances at his bare
skull. Then M. Kahn, the colonel and the others, expressed by winks,
gestures and hasty words the high estimate which they set upon his
ability. They prostrated themselves before the feeblest mind of the
whole coterie, and admired one another in his person. He, at any rate,
would be an easy and docile master, and would never compromise them.
They could set him up as a god with impunity, free from all fear of his
thunderbolts.
'You are quite fatiguing him,' at last exclaimed pretty Madame Bouchard
in her tender voice.
Fatiguing him, were they? At this there was a general outburst of
sympathy. In point of fact Delestang was looking rather pale again,
and his eyes had a sleepy expression. But nothing tries a man like
brain-work, the visitors remarked to each other with an air of
commiseration, and the poor fellow had been working since five o'clock
that morning! Then they gently insisted that he should go to bed. And
he obeyed them with quiet docility, kissing his wife on the forehead
and then quitting the room.
It was now one o'clock, and the guests began to speak of retiring,
whereupon Clorinde assured them that she was by no means sleepy, and
that they might stay on. However, no one sat down again. The lamp in
the boudoir had just gone out, and there was a strong smell of oil in
the room. It was with difficulty that they could find sundry small
articles, such as Madame Correur's fan, the colonel's stick, and Madame
Bouchard's bonnet. Clorinde, calmly stretched on her bed, stopped
Madame Correur just as the latter was going to ring for Antonia. The
maid, it appeared, always went to bed at eleven o'clock. Then just as
they were all going away, the colonel suddenly bethought himself of
Auguste, whom he had forgotten. He found him asleep on a sofa in the
boudoir, with his head resting on a dress which he had rolled up to
form a pillow; and the others scolded him for not having attended to
the lamp. In the gloom of the staircase, where the gas was turned very
low, Madame Bouchard gave a little scream. She had twisted her foot,
she said. Finally, as the visitors carefully felt their way with the
aid of the balusters, loud peals of laughter were heard upstairs; Pozzo
having lingered after the others had gone.
Every Thursday and Sunday the friends met at Clorinde's in this way;
and it was generally rumoured that Madame Delestang now held political
receptions. It was said that extremely liberal proclivities were aired
at them, and that Rougon's despotic administration was vigorously
attacked. The whole band indeed had now begun to dream of a sort
of democratic empire in which every public liberty would gradually
expand. The colonel, in his leisure moments, drew up codes of rules for
trades-unions. M. Béjuin spoke of building cheap workmen's houses round
his cut-glass works at Saint Florent, and M. Kahn talked to Delestang
for hours at a time, of the democratic part that the Bonapartes were
destined to play in modern society. And every fresh act of Rougon's was
hailed with indignant protests, with expressions of patriotic alarm
lest France should be ruined by such a man. One day Delestang started
the theory that the Emperor was the only genuine Republican of his
time. The coterie put on the airs of a religious sect to which the only
means of salvation had been exclusively entrusted, and its members
soon openly plotted the fat man's overthrow for the good of the country.
Clorinde, however, showed no inclination for haste. They would find
her lying at full length on one or other of the couches in her rooms,
gazing into the air as if examining patches of the ceiling. And while
the others prated and walked impatiently about the room, she remained
silent and impenetrable, merely glancing at them every now and then
as though to advise them to be more guarded in their language. She
now went out less than she had done previously, and with Antonia's
assistance often amused herself by dressing as a man, seemingly to
while away her time. She manifested, too, a sudden affection for her
husband, kissing him before company, talking caressingly to him, and
showing a lively anxiety about his health, which was excellent. It
might be that she adopted these tactics to conceal the absolute sway
and ceaseless surveillance which she maintained over him. She directed
his slightest actions, taught him his lesson every morning like a
school-boy who could not be trusted. Delestang on his side evinced the
most docile obedience. He bowed, smiled, or frowned, said black was
white or white was black, just as she pulled the string. And whenever
he felt that he wanted winding up again, he voluntarily came back to
her and placed himself in her hands to be manipulated. But all the
while he seemed to outsiders to be the head of the household.
Clorinde still waited. M. Beulin-d'Orchère, although he avoided coming
to her evening receptions, frequently saw her during the day. He
complained bitterly of his brother-in-law, whom he accused of making
the fortunes of a crowd of strangers, while he seemed to think nothing
of his own relatives. It was entirely Rougon's doing, he asserted, if
the Emperor had not entrusted the seals to himself. Rougon was afraid
of having anyone in the council with whom he might have to share his
influence. Clorinde did all she could to whet the judge's anger, and
she also dropped hints of her husband's approaching triumph, and held
out a vague hope that the rejected one might be included in the new
ministry. She was, however, really making use of Beulin-d'Orchère to
find out what went on at Rougon's house. With feminine vindictiveness
she would have liked to see the great man unhappy in his domestic
relations, and accordingly she spurred the judge on to persuade his
sister to take his side against her husband. He tried to do so, no
doubt, and may even have voiced his regrets respecting a marriage from
which he had derived no benefit. But probably his words had no effect
upon Madame Rougon's quiet, placid nature. To Clorinde he would say
that his brother-in-law had seemed very nervous for some time past, and
he would even hint that the fitting time for his overthrow had come.
Then with his eyes fixed on the young woman, but with the amiable way
of one who in all innocence retails the gossip of society, he would
recount a whole series of Rougon's characteristic actions. Why did she
not act, if she were really mistress of the situation? he seemed to
urge. But Clorinde only stretched herself out the more, and put on the
air of one who is kept indoors by wet weather, and must patiently await
a ray of sunshine.
However, at the Tuileries the young woman's influence was certainly
increasing; and courtiers spoke in whispers of his Majesty's strong
admiration for her. At the balls and official receptions, indeed,
everywhere that the Emperor met her, he was always hanging about her,
casting side-long glances at her and whispering to her with a quiet
smile. She on her side was playing her old part, the part she had
played when she was looking for a husband, putting on the most enticing
airs, behaving with a semblance of easy freedom, but always keeping on
her guard and making her escape at the critical moment. She seemed,
indeed, to be biding her time, waiting for the hour when the Emperor
would be unable to refuse her any request that she might make of him.
Doubtless she wished to secure the triumph of some long-planned scheme.
It was about this time that she suddenly began to manifest great
affection for M. de Plouguern. For several months there had been a
coolness between them. The old senator, who had been most constant in
his attendance upon her, coming to see her almost every morning while
she was dressing, was much annoyed one day at being refused admittance
while she was engaged with her toilette. He thought this a great shame,
for wasn't he her godfather, he asked, and hadn't he dandled her upon
his knees when she was quite a little child? However, M. de Plouguern
urged all this in vain. Matters ended in a rupture, and whenever M.
Kahn or Colonel Jobelin happened to ask the young woman about the
old senator, she would somewhat stiffly reply: 'I'm told that he is
growing young again. But I never see him now.'
This lasted for a time. Then, all at once M. de Plouguern was to be
constantly found at her house. He wandered about it at all hours of
the day, doing Clorinde's bidding like a maid of all work: 'Godfather,
go and get me my nail-file!' she would say, 'It is in the drawer, you
know--Godfather, get me the sponge.'
She called him godfather in a caressing, affectionate manner. On
his side he now frequently spoke of Count Balbi, and gave details
of Clorinde's birth. He asserted that he had been introduced to her
mother but a short time before that birth; which was distinctly
false. However, the relative positions of the two were never clearly
ascertained. Nor did people learn what business it was that had again
brought Clorinde and the old senator together. In all probability he
was just then necessary to her; she had some part for him to play in
a drama of which she was constantly dreaming. She would indeed talk
to him in obscure terms of some vague indefinite event which was
very slowly approaching consummation. And on his side he seemed to
be calculating combinations like a chess-player, though he generally
ended by shaking his head as though he could come to no satisfactory
conclusion.
On the few occasions when Rougon came to see Clorinde, she affected
great weariness and spoke of going to Italy for three months. But
then with lowered eyelids she would examine him with a sharp gleaming
glance, while a smile of refined cruelty hardened her lips. She would
have liked to strangle him then and there with her tapering fingers,
but she was anxious that her attack should prove quite effective when
it did come; and this long wait for the time when her nails would be
fully grown was not without a spice of pleasure to her. Rougon, who was
always very absent-minded, shook hands with her mechanically, never
noticing the nervous fever of her flesh. He even fancied that she
had given up her eccentricities, and complimented her upon rendering
obedience to her husband. 'You are now nearly all that I wished you to
be,' he said to her. 'You have taken the right course. Women ought to
remain quietly at home.'
'Good heavens! what an idiot he is!' she exclaimed with a shrill laugh
when he had gone away. 'And he thinks that it is the women who are the
idiots!'
At last, one Sunday evening towards ten o'clock, when the whole band
had assembled in Clorinde's bedroom, M. de Plouguern came in with
a triumphant air: 'Well,' he exclaimed, trying to appear extremely
indignant, 'have you heard of Rougon's last exploit? This time, surely,
the measure is full!'
They all eagerly clustered round him. No one had heard of anything.
'Ah! It is abominable!' he added, excitedly waving his arm in the air.
'It is inconceivable that a minister could sink to such depths!'
Then he entered into particulars. When the Charbonnels had gone to
Faverolles to take possession of their cousin Chevassu's property, they
had made a great out-cry about the alleged disappearance of a large
quantity of silver plate. They accused the woman who had been left in
charge of the house, a very pious person, of having stolen it. They
asserted that this miserable creature, upon learning the decision of
the Council of State, had conspired with the Sisters of the Holy Family
and carried to their convent all such valuables as could easily be
concealed. Three days later the Charbonnels dropped the accusations
against the housekeeper and charged the Sisters themselves with having
ransacked the house. This caused a terrible scandal in the town.
However, the commissary of police still refused to search the convent,
when Rougon, after receiving a letter from the Charbonnels, telegraphed
to the prefect directing him to order a strict perquisition at once.
'Yes, a strict perquisition, those were the words in the message,'
M. de Plouguern said in conclusion, 'And then the commissary and two
gendarmes were seen ransacking the convent. They were there for five
hours. The gendarmes insisted upon poking into every corner. They even
examined the Sisters' beds to see if the missing plate were under the
mattresses.'
'Oh! how abominable!' cried Madame Bouchard, in disgust.
'He must be entirely destitute of the slightest idea of religion!'
declared the colonel.
'Well, what can you expect?' asked Madame Correur. 'Rougon has never
conformed with the requirements of faith. I often tried to reconcile
him with God, but always failed in my efforts.'
M. Bouchard and M. Béjuin shook their heads in a hopeless sort of way,
as though they had just heard of some frightful social catastrophe
which made them despair of humanity; while M. Kahn, energetically
rubbing his fringe of beard, inquired: 'Of course they discovered
nothing in the convent?'
'Absolutely nothing!' replied M. de Plouguern. Then he continued
hastily: 'A silver sauce-pan, I think, two cups, and a cruet-stand,
mere trifles, presents which the esteemed deceased, an old man of
extreme piety, had given to the Sisters in acknowledgment of their kind
attention to him during his long illness.'
'Yes, yes, of course!' said the others.
The old senator dwelt no further on that subject; but in a very
deliberate way, accentuating each sentence by bringing one hand down
upon the other, he resumed: 'That, however, is not the important point.
The question is one of the respect due to a convent, to one of those
holy houses where the virtues, driven from our impious society, have
sought refuge. How can we expect the masses to be religious when they
see attacks made upon religion by men in such high positions? Rougon
has been guilty of utter sacrilege in this matter, and he will be
called to account for it. All the decent minded folks in Faverolles are
bursting with indignation. Monseigneur Rochart, the well-known bishop,
who has always manifested a particular affection for the Sisters, has
come to Paris to demand justice. In the Senate, too, to-day a great
deal of annoyance was shown, and there was some talk of raising a
discussion on the strength of a few details which I was able to supply.
And finally the Empress herself----'
Every head was now eagerly craned forward.
'Yes, the Empress has learnt this deplorable story from Madame de
Llorentz, who heard it from our friend La Rouquette, to whom I myself
told it. When she heard it her Majesty exclaimed: 'Monsieur Rougon is
no longer worthy of speaking in the name of France!'
'Quite right!' said all the others.
All through that Thursday night and until one o'clock the next morning
nothing else was talked of. Clorinde had not opened her mouth. At M.
de Plouguern's first words she had lain back on her couch, looking a
little pale and compressing her lips. Then, unnoticed, she quickly
crossed herself three times, as though thanking heaven for having
at last granted her a long-entreated favour. The narrative of the
perquisition wrung from her various gestures expressive of outraged
piety, and gradually she flushed quite red. Then, gazing up towards the
dim ceiling she became absorbed in reverie.
And while the others were discussing the matter, M. de Plouguern glided
to the young woman's side, and with his sceptical snigger softly
whispered in her ear: 'He has insulted God Almighty! He is done for!'
XIII
CLORINDE'S REVENGE
During the ensuing week, Rougon heard a growing clamour rise around
him. Everything else might have been forgiven: his abuse of power,
the grasping greed of his band, and the choking grip in which he held
the whole country; but to have sent gendarmes to poke about the cells
of the Sisters was so monstrous a crime that the ladies of the Court
affected to shudder when he passed them. Then, too, Monseigneur Rochart
was creating a terrible commotion throughout the official world, and
it was said that he had even complained to the Empress herself on the
subject. Moreover, the scandal was doubtless kept alive by a few wily
individuals, who were bent on making the most of it; for orders and
suggestions circulated, and the same complaints were raised at once
in every quarter. Amidst all these furious attacks, Rougon at first
maintained a perfectly serene and smiling demeanour. He shrugged his
broad shoulders and spoke scoffingly of the whole matter. At an evening
reception at the Ministry of Justice he even remarked: 'By the way,
I never told you that they found a priest hidden in the convent.'
However, when this sally circulated there was a fresh outburst of
anger, and then he on his side at last became impassioned. People
were making him quite sick with all their foolish talk, he said; the
Sisters were certainly thieves, for silver cups and saucepans had been
discovered in their possession. And he actually showed an inclination
to take further steps in the matter, made inquiries, and threatened
to overwhelm the whole clergy of Faverolles with confusion in the
law-courts.
Early one morning, however, the Charbonnels presented themselves
before him; at which he was much astonished, for he did not know
that they were even in Paris. As soon as he saw them, he exclaimed
that matters were proceeding most satisfactorily, and that he had
sent instructions to the prefect to compel the public prosecutor to
take active steps. But at this M. Charbonnel assumed an expression
of consternation, and Madame Charbonnel replied: 'No, no! we don't
want that! You have gone too far, Monsieur Rougon. You have quite
misunderstood us.'
Then they both began to sing the praises of the Sisters of the
Holy Family, who were extremely good women, they said; though they
themselves had for a moment gone to law against them, they had never
ventured so far as to accuse them of anything base. Such a charge would
have produced the greatest amazement in Faverolles, where everyone in
society held the Sisters in such high esteem.
'You will do us the greatest injury, Monsieur Rougon,' Madame
Charbonnel said, in conclusion, 'if you continue to show such violence
towards religion. We have come to pray you to desist from further
action. Down yonder people don't understand the real state of affairs,
but think that it is we who are hounding you on; so, if you don't stop,
they will end by stoning us.... We have made a handsome present to the
convent, an ivory crucifix, which used to hang at the foot of our poor
cousin's bed.'
'Well, we've warned you now,' added M. Charbonnel, 'and the
responsibility rests with you. We have nothing further to do with the
business.'
Rougon let them talk on. They seemed to be very much displeased with
him, and gradually raised their voices in indignation. As the minister
looked at them he felt a slight chill and sudden lassitude, as though
some portion of his strength had again been ravished from him. However,
he made no attempt to discuss the subject, but dismissed his visitors,
promising that he would take no further steps in the affair; and,
indeed, so far as he was concerned, he let the whole matter die out.