Complete Works of Emile Zola (1644 page)

“What! the end of the world?” said she, cheerfully. “When two of our neighbors have just had, each of them, a fine boy! And your children, Auguste and Eulalie, how are they? They are not here?”

No, they were not there; they were never there. Auguste, who was nearly twenty-two years old, and held trade in horror, had been seized with a passion for the mechanical arts; while Eulalie, who at fifteen was already sufficiently prudent to be an excellent housekeeper, spent most of her time with an uncle, a farmer, at Lignerolles, near Combettes.

“Oh, the children,” Madame Laboque continued to complain; “if one relied upon children!”

“They are all ingrates!” declared Dacheux, in indignation, caused by the fact that his daughter Julienne, a tall, handsome, affectionate girl, was not at all in his own style, and still played with the little unfortunates who were abandoned in the Rue de Brias. “When one relies upon children, he is sure to die of grief and poverty!”

“But I assure you that I depend upon my Evariste!” answered the baker’s wife. “He is nearly twenty years old, and we are not angry because he has refused to learn his father’s trade. These young people are naturally full of ideas that are different from ours, since they are born for epochs in which we shall not exist. For myself, I ask nothing of Evariste except that he shall love me dearly, and that is just what he does.”

She then explained her own affairs to Dacheux. If she had come there at his request, it was only in order to make it clearly understood that every tradesman of Beauclair must retain entire liberty of action. She had not as yet joined the association at La Crêcherie, but she intended to enter whenever she pleased, and she was only waiting for the time when she should be convinced that such action was in the interest of others and of herself.

“It is perfectly plain,” said Laboque, when she concluded, “that I cannot do otherwise, and I shall sign this evening.”

Madame Laboque began again her incessant plaint. “I have already told you that the world is turning inside out; this is the end of the world!”

“Oh no, no!” cried the beautiful Madame Mitaine once more. “Why should you wish the world to end, since our children will soon be of an age to marry, and will have children, who will marry and have children in their turn? One generation succeeds the other; the world constantly renews itself, and that is all there is about it. This is the end of one world, if you choose.”

These concluding words fell so clearly and distinctly that Dacheux, in the last extremity of passion, and with his eyes bloodshot from the pressure of an impending stroke of apoplexy, rushed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. It was assuredly the end of one world, the end of iniquitous and unsound commerce, of the commerce by which the fortune of the few is made by the misery of the greater number.

There was one last blow still to upset Beauclair. Up to that time the success of La Crêcherie had interfered only with similar industries, and with the retail trade, which is dependent upon the daily custom of the street. So the feeling was intense when one fine morning it was learned that Mayor Gourier had fallen a victim to the new theories. He himself, standing on a firm basis, and having, as he proudly declared, no need of any one, had no intention of association with La Crêcherie. But he established beside it a like association, and placed his large shoe-factory in the Rue de Brias on a system of shares, calculated on the now established basis of capital, labor, and intelligence, thus making a threefold division of profits. This was simply the creation of a new division, the clothing division, besides those of iron and steel, and was similar to them in all respects; and the resemblance became more marked when Gourier succeeded in syndicating all the clothing industries — the tailors, the hatters, the hosiers, the linen merchants, and the haberdashers. Moreover, another division still was spoken of, which a great mason contractor was engaged in establishing, by associating with the masons all the various building industries, such as stone-cutters, joiners, locksmiths, plumbers, roofers, and painters, a vast division which also included architects and artists, without mentioning marble-workers, cabinet-makers, upholsterers, workers in bronze, and even clock-makers and jewellers. There was nothing in all this but a logical growth. The example of La Crêcherie had sown the prolific idea of division, of associations graded in natural groups, and of groups growing out of these again, the result simply of imitation and the need of the utmost enjoyment possible of life and happiness. The law of human creation acted, and it would certainly always act with increasing energy, if the human race required it for its happy existence, and even now it was becoming evident that a mutual bond had been established among these groups, a common tie which, while leaving them independent, would one day reunite them in a vast social reorganization of labor, the unique code of the future city.

But the idea of escaping from La Crêcherie by imitating it was more than the brain of Gourier could have evolved. Public opinion had it that he must have been acting under the advice of the Sub-prefect Châtelard, who was burying himself deeper in the shade and in tranquil indifference, in proportion as Beauclair became transformed under the vital breath of the future. And it was correctly divined that this had taken place at a little breakfast of three, in the house of the mayor, and at which the two men were seated opposite each other, there being no one else present except the still beautiful Leonore.

“My dear friend,” the sub-prefect had remarked, with his amiable smile, “I believe that we are at a deadlock. At Paris everything is going wrong, everything is on the road to ruin, and it is the wind of approaching revolution that is going to sweep away what remains of the old decaying structures now falling into ruins. Here, our friend Boisgelin is a poor, vain creature, whose last sous that little Madame Delaveau will spend. No one but her husband is ignorant of the fact as to where the profits of the Pit are going. He is making a heroic struggle against failure, and you will soon witness some disaster. Therefore, it would be certainly very foolish not to think of one’s self, if one does not wish to be drawn into the whirlpool.”

Leonore manifested some uneasiness.

“Are you in danger yourself, my friend?” she inquired. “I? Oh no! No government would take the trouble to occupy itself with my unworthy person, for I have the smallest possible amount of administrative talent. I always say just the same thing as my superiors, so that I pass for a caricature of each minister. I shall die here, at last, forgotten and happy under the ruins of the last ministry. But it is you yourselves of whom I am thinking, my good friends.”

He proceeded to explain his idea, and to enumerate all the advantages that there would be in forestalling the revolution, and making another La Crêcherie of the Gourier shoe-factory. The profits would undergo no diminution, but quite the contrary. Moreover, he himself had undergone conviction, and professed himself too intelligent not to understand. The future was at hand, the reorganization of labor would end by sweeping away the old and iniquitous
bourgeois
society. This peaceful and sceptical functionary, whose inactivity was so absurd and so well considered, had ended by becoming a genuine anarchist, although he concealed the fact under an exterior of diplomatic reserve.

“You are aware, my good Gourier,” concluded he, laughing, “all this will not prevent my declaring myself against you, openly, when you have completed this masterstroke of passing over to the new society. I shall say that you are a traitor, or else that you have lost your mind; but I shall congratulate you when I come here, since you will have played a famous trick, which will bring you in rich returns. You will see their downfall!”

Nevertheless, Gourier, much bewildered, would not consent, and discussed the matter for a long time. All his past protested, all his long reign as an employer revolted at the idea of being nothing more than the associate of hundreds of workmen, whose absolute master he had been up to this time. But under his thick skull he had a mind acute in business matters, and saw very well that he would risk nothing, but, on the contrary, would assure the safety of his house against the dangers of the future by following Châtelard’s wise advice. And, then, he himself was touched by the wind now blowing, by that exaltation, that passion for reform, whose contagious fever in revolutionary epochs deranges the very classes that are going to be dispossessed. Gourier ended by believing that the idea was his own, since Leonore, by the advice of her friend Châtelard, repeated this to him day and night, and he proceeded to act upon it.

His action caused a scandal in the entire Beauclair
bourgeoisie
. Proceedings against it were begun, and Judge Gaume was entreated to interview the mayor upon the subject, since the sub-prefect had formally refused to take part in the unfortunate, business, which he declared loudly to be scandalous, saying further that he did not wish to compromise the administration in regard to it. But the judge, who was now living a very retired life, and who had seen no one since his daughter Lucille, repudiated by her husband, had had to take refuge with him, refused to make any representations to the mayor, which the latter would doubtless receive with a bad grace. Then strong measures were employed. The judge’s son-in-law, Captain Jollivet, as a result of his wife’s conduct, had thrown himself into the reaction with increasing fury. He contributed such articles to the
Journal de Beauclair
that the publisher, Lebleu, uneasy at the turn affairs were taking, and feeling himself under the necessity of being on the strongest side, had one day closed his door to him, being desirous of changing sides and passing over from the party belonging to the Pit to that belonging to La Crêcherie. Disarmed and idle, the captain was airing his impotent wrath when the idea occurred to him that he alone could influence the judge to take sides, for he had not broken completely with his father-in-law, but still exchanged salutations with him. Charged with this delicate mission, he therefore presented himself formally at the judge’s house, and did not reappear for two whole hours, during which time he extracted nothing but evasive responses from his father-in-law, although, he effected a reconciliation with his wife. The latter returned the next day to her husband’s house, the captain having pardoned her for the offence which had caused her withdrawal, on a formal promise that it should not occur again. All Beauclair was amazed at this
denouement,
and the affair ended in great laughter.

It was the Mazelles who at length succeeded in interrogating Judge Gaume, but they did so by accident, and without having been intrusted with any mission. The judge was in the habit of going out every morning, and on reaching the Boulevard de Magnolles, which was a long, deserted avenue, he walked up and down indefinitely, his head bowed and his hands behind his back, in a gloomy reverie. His shoulders were bent as though under a load of trouble, and he seemed borne down by a feeling that his entire life had been a failure, and by a sense of the evil which he had done and of the good which he had been unable to do. And when, for a moment, he raised his eyes, looking forth into the distance, he seemed to expect something out of the unknown future that did not appear and which he could not see. Now, on this particular morning, the Mazelles, who had risen early to go to church, ventured to approach him, in order to ascertain his opinion on public affairs, so greatly were they afraid of meeting in these matters some personal disaster.

“Well, monsieur, what say you of what is going on?”

He raised his head, and looked for a moment into the distance. Then, continuing his gloomy reverie, and thinking aloud, as though no one were listening to him, he said:

“I say that the tempest of truth and justice which will sweep away this abominable world is very long in coming.”

The Mazelles, petrified with astonishment, and believing that they did not understand, stammered out:

“What, what! You intend to frighten us because you know that we are a little timid? Yes, that is true, and people joke us about it.”

But Gaume had already recovered himself. Observing the Mazelles standing frightened before him, with pale faces, and perspiring with apprehension as to their money and the continuation of their life of indolence, his mouth contracted with an expression of disdainful irony.

“What are you afraid of?” resumed he. “The world will last for another twenty years, and if you are living then you will find consolation for the annoyances of the revolution by being witnesses of some interesting things. It is your daughter who should be anxious about the future.”

Madame Mazelle, in great distress, exclaimed:

“Exactly, but Louise does not distress herself about it at all. No, not at all! She is hardly thirteen years old, and she finds all that is now taking place very amusing when she hears us talking of it from morning till night. She laughs, while we are in despair. Whenever I say to her: ‘But, poor, unfortunate child, you will not have a sous,’ she answers me with a skip like a kid: ‘It is all the same to me, and I shall be the merrier for it.’ She is very well behaved, all the same, although she gives us very little comfort.”

“Yes,” said Gaume, “she is a child who dreams of making her life for herself. There are others like her.” Mazelle remained perplexed, fearful that he was the subject of a joke again. The thought that he had made a fortune in ten years, and that since then he had enjoyed that delicious life of idleness dreamed of from his youth, that his happiness as an idler might cease, and that he would, perhaps, be obliged to go to work again, if every one else worked, threw him into a state of deep anguish, which was like a first chastisement.

“But securities, monsieur — what will become of securities, in your opinion, if all these anarchists succeed in turning the world upside down? You remember that this Monsieur Luc, who is now playing so base a part, also made fun of us by claiming that all incomes would be suppressed. Now that would be as bad as if our throats were cut in some nook in the woods.”