Complete Works of Emile Zola (220 page)

Nobody ever knew how Madame Sidonie had got wind of this good bit of business. The honour of the Bérauds had been dragged about in her basket among the protested bills of every strumpet in Paris. Once she knew the story, she almost forced her brother, whose wife lay dying, upon them. Aunt Elisabeth ended by believing that she was under an obligation to this gentle, humble lady, who was devoting herself to the unhappy Renée to the degree of finding a husband for her in her own family. The first interview between the aunt and Saccard took place on the entresol in the Rue du Faubourg-Poissonnière. The clerk, who had arrived by the carriage-entrance in the Rue Papillon, realized, when he saw Madame Aubertot coming through the shop and the little stair-case, the ingenious arrangement of the two entrances. He was full of tact and propriety. He treated the marriage as a matter of business, but in the fashion of a man of the world settling his debts of honour. Aunt Elisabeth was far less at ease than he; she stammered, she had not the courage to mention the hundred thousand francs she had promised him.

It was he who first broached the question of money, with the manner of a solicitor discussing a client’s case. According to him a hundred thousand francs was a ridiculous sum for the husband of Mademoiselle Renée to bring into settlement. He laid a little stress on the “mademoiselle.” M. Béraud du Châtel would still more despise a poor son-in-law: he would accuse him of having seduced his daughter for the sake of her fortune; perhaps it might even occur to him to make some private enquiries. Startled and dismayed by Saccard’s calm and polite phrases, Madame Aubertot lost her head and consented to double the amount when he declared that he would never dare to propose for Renée with less than two hundred thousand francs in his pocket; he did not wish to be taken for a contemptible fortune-hunter. The good lady departed quite confused, not knowing what to think of a man capable of so much indignation, and yet willing to accept a bargain of such a nature.

This first interview was followed by an official visit which Aunt Elisabeth paid Saccard at his rooms in the Rue Payenne. This time she came in the name of M. Béraud. The ex-magistrate had refused to see “that man,” as he called his daughter’s seducer, so long as he was not married to Renée, to whom furthermore he had also forbidden his house. Madame Aubertot had full powers of treaty. She seemed pleased with the clerk’s luxurious surroundings; she had feared that the brother of that Madame Sidonie, with her draggled skirts, might be a disreputable-looking person. He received her swathed in a delightful dressing-gown. It was at the time when the adventurers of the 2 December, after paying their debts, flung their worn boots and frayed coats into the sewers, shaved their eight days’ beards, and became respectable men. Saccard was at last to join the band; he cleaned his nails and washed exclusively with powders and perfumes of inestimable value. He made himself gallant; he changed his tactics and shewed himself wonderfully disinterested. When the old lady began to talk of the contract, he made a gesture as though to say what did he mind. For a week past he had been studying the Code, pondering this serious question on which would depend his future liberty of action as a sharp business practitioner.

“I beg you,” he said, “let us hear no more of this disagreeable question of money…. My opinion is that Mademoiselle Renée should remain mistress of her fortune and I master of mine. The notary will put that right.”

Aunt Elisabeth approved of this manner of looking at things; she trembled lest this fellow, whose iron grip she could vaguely perceive, should wish to thrust his fingers into her niece’s dowry. She next entered into the matter of this dowry.

“My brother’s fortune,” she said, “consists mainly of houses and landed property. He is not the man to punish his daughter by reducing the share he intended for her. He will give her an estate in the Sologne valued at three hundred thousand francs, in addition to a house in Paris which is worth about two hundred thousand francs.”

Saccard was dazzled; he had expected no such amount; he turned half away so as to hide the rush of blood that came to his face.

“That will make five hundred thousand francs,” continued the aunt; “but I am bound to add that the Sologne property yields only two per cent.”

He smiled, repeating his disinterested gesture, implying that that could not concern him, as he declined to interfere with his wife’s property. He sat in his arm-chair in an adorable attitude of indifference, absent-minded, balancing his slipper on his foot, seeming to listen from sheer politeness. Mme. Aubertot, with her simple-minded good-nature, spoke with difficulty, picking her words so as not to wound him. She continued:

“And lastly, I want to make Renée a present myself. I have no children, my property will some day revert to my nieces, and I am not going to close my hands now because one of them is in trouble. Both their wedding-presents were ready for them. Renée’s consists of some extensive plots of land up Charonne way, which I can safely value at two hundred thousand francs. Only….”

At the word land Saccard started slightly. In spite of his assumed indifference he was listening intently. Aunt Elisabeth became confused, apparently at a loss for the right expression, and continued, blushing:

“Only, I wish the ownership of this land to be settled on Renée’s first child. You understand my reason. I do not wish this child ever to be of any expense to you. In the event of its dying, Renée would become the sole owner.”

He made no sign, but his knit brows revealed great inward preoccupation. The mention of the land at Charonne had aroused within him a world of ideas. Mme. Aubertot feared she had offended him by speaking of Renée’s child, and she remained abashed, not knowing how to follow up the conversation.

“You have not told me in what street the house worth two hundred thousand francs stands,” he said, resuming his smiling, genial air.

“In the Rue de la Pépinière,” she replied; “almost at the corner of the Rue d’Astorg.”

This simple sentence produced a decided effect on him. He could no longer conceal his delight; he drew up his chair, and with his Provençal volubility, in coaxing tones:

“Dear lady,” he said, “have we not said enough, need we continue to talk of this confounded money?…. See here, I want to tell you my story quite frankly, for I should be most unhappy if I failed to deserve your regard. I lost my wife recently, I have two children left on my hands, I am a sensible and practical man. In marrying your niece I am doing good all round. If you retain any prejudice against me, you will lose it later on when I have dried everyone’s tears and made the fortune of all my family. Success is a golden flame that purifies everything. I want M. Béraud himself to shake me by the hand and thank me….”

He lost himself. He talked on for a long while in the same bantering strain, whose cynicism from time to time shone through his genial air. He dragged in his brother, the Deputy, his father the receiver of taxes at Plassans. He ended by making a conquest of Aunt Elisabeth who, with involuntary joy, saw the tragedy under which she had been suffering for the past month ending, under this clever man’s fingers, in a comedy that was almost hilarious. It was arranged that they should go to the notary the next day.

So soon as Madame Aubertot had gone, Saccard went to the Hotel de Ville, and spent the day in turning over certain documents that he knew of. At the notary’s he raised a difficulty, he said that as Renée’s dowry consisted entirely of landed property, he feared it would give her a deal of worry, and that he thought it would be as well to sell the house in the Rue de la Pépinière in order to secure her an investment in the funds. Mme. Aubertot proposed to refer the matter to M. Béraud du Châtel, who continued to keep his room. Saccard went out again till the evening. He went to the Rue de la Pépinière, he walked about Paris with the preoccupied air of a general on the eve of a decisive battle. The next day Mme. Aubertot declared that M. Béraud du Châtel left the whole matter in her hands. The contract was drawn up on the lines already discussed. Saccard brought in two hundred thousand francs, Renée’s dowry was the Sologne property and the house in the Rue de la Pépinière, which she agreed to sell; and further, in the case of the death of her first child, she was to be the sole owner of the land at Charonne given her by her aunt. The contract was in accordance with the system of separate estates by which the husband and wife retain the entire management of their respective fortunes. Aunt Elisabeth followed the notary attentively, and seemed contented with this system, whose provisions apparently assured her niece’s independence by placing her fortune beyond the reach of any attempts. Saccard smiled vaguely as he saw the good lady nodding her approval of each clause. The marriage was fixed to take place at the earliest possible date.

When all was settled, Saccard paid a ceremonial visit to his brother Eugène to announce his marriage with Mlle. Renée Béraud du Châtel. This master-stroke took the deputy by surprise. As he made no attempt to conceal his astonishment, the clerk said:

“You told me to look, and I looked until I found.”

Eugène, bewildered at first, began to get a glimpse of the truth. And in a charming tone he said:

“Come, you’re a clever fellow…. I suppose you have come to ask me to be your witness. You may rely on me…. If necessary, I will bring the whole of the Right of the Corps Législatif to your wedding; that would launch you nicely….”

Then, as he had opened the door, he lowered his voice to add:

“I say…. I don’t want to compromise myself too much just now, we have a very tough bill to pass…. The lady is not very far gone, I hope?”

Saccard gave him such a savage look that Eugène said to himself, as he shut the door:

“That’s a joke that would cost me dear if I were not a Rougon.”

The marriage was solemnised in the Church of Saint-Louis-en-l’Île. Saccard and Renée did not meet till the eve of that great day. The introduction took place early in the evening, in a low reception-room at the Hotel Béraud. They examined each other curiously. Renée, since her marriage had been arranged, had regained her light-headedness, her madcap ways. She was a tall girl of exquisite and tempestuous beauty, that had grown up at random through her school-girl caprices. She thought Saccard small and ugly, but ugly in a restless and intelligent way that she did not dislike; and moreover, he was perfect in manner and deportment. As for him, he made a little grimace at the first sight of her; she doubtless struck him as too tall, taller than he was. They exchanged a few words, free from embarrassment. Had the father been present, he might readily have believed that they had long known each other, and that they had a common fault in their past lives. Aunt Elisabeth, who was present at the interview, blushed in their stead.

On the day after the wedding, which the presence of Eugène Rougon, whom a recent speech had brought to the forefront, magnified into an event in the Île Saint-Louis, the newly-married couple were at length admitted to the presence of Monsieur Béraud du Châtel. Renée shed tears on finding her father aged, graver, and sadder. Saccard, whom up to that point nothing had put out of countenance, was frozen by the chill and gloom of the room, by the sombre austerity of the tall old man, whose piercing eye seemed to penetrate to the depths of his conscience. The ex-magistrate kissed his daughter slowly on the forehead, as though to tell her that he forgave her, and turning to his son-in-law: “Monsieur,” he said, simply, “we have suffered greatly, I trust you will give us reason to forget the wrong you have done us.”

He held out his hand. But Saccard remained timorous. He thought how, if M. Béraud du Châtel had not given way under the tragic sorrow of Renée’s shame, he might with a glance, with a gesture, have annulled Madame Sidonie’s manuœvres. The latter, after bringing her brother and Aunt Elisabeth together, had prudently effaced herself. She had not even come to the wedding. Saccard adopted an attitude of great frankness towards the old man, having read in his face a look of surprise at finding his daughter’s seducer ugly, little, and forty years of age. The newly-married couple were compelled to spend the first nights at the Hotel Béraud. Christine had been sent away two months since, so that this child of fourteen might have no suspicion of the drama that was being enacted in this house, peaceful and serene as a convent. When she returned home, she stood aghast before her sister’s husband, whom she too thought old and ugly. Renée alone seemed to take but little notice of her husband’s age or his mean aspect. She treated him without contempt as without affection, with absolute tranquillity, through which was visible an occasional glimmer of ironical disdain. Saccard strutted about, made himself at home, and really succeeded, by his frankness and vivacity, in gradually winning everybody’s good will. When they took their departure, in order to install themselves in an imposing flat in a new house in the Rue de Rivoli, M. Béraud du Châtel had lost his look of astonishment, and Christine had taken to playing with her brother-in-law as with a school-fellow. Renée’s pregnancy was at that time four months advanced; her husband was on the point of sending her to the country, proposing afterwards to lie as to the child’s age, when, as Madame Sidonie had foretold, she had a miscarriage. She had so tightly laced herself to dissimulate her condition, which was moreover concealed under the fulness of her skirts, that she was compelled to keep her bed for some weeks. He was enchanted with the adventure; Fortune was at last on his side; he had made a golden bargain: a splendid dowry, a wife of a beauty that should be worth a decoration to him within six months, and not the least encumbrance. He had received two hundred thousand francs to give his name to a fœtus which its mother would not even look at. From that moment his thoughts began to turn affectionately towards the Charonne property. But for the time being he devoted all his attention to a speculation which was to be the basis of his fortune.

Notwithstanding the high standing of his wife’s family, he did not immediately resign his post as a surveyor of roads. He talked of work that had to be finished, of an occupation that had to be sought for. As a matter of fact he wished to remain till the end on the battle-field upon which he was venturing his first stake. He felt at home, he was able to cheat more at his ease.