Complete Works of Emile Zola (406 page)

‘We have all been notified to that effect,’ M. Kahn replied, ‘and I have heard nothing of any change of plans. You had better remain. The 400,000 francs for the baptism will be voted straight off.’

‘No doubt,’ said La Rouquette. ‘Old General Legrain, who has lost the use of both legs, has had himself carried here by his servant, and is now in the Conference Hall wait­ing till the vote comes on. The Emperor is quite right in reckoning upon the devotion of the whole Corps Législatif. All our votes ought to be given him upon this solemn occasion.’

While speaking the young deputy did his utmost to assume the expression of a serious politician. His doll-like face, which was ornamented by a few pale hairs, wagged gravely over his collar, and he seemed to be relishing the flavour of the two last sentences he had uttered — sentences which he had remembered from somebody else’s speech. Then he suddenly broke into a laugh. ‘Good gracious!’ he exclaimed, ‘what frights those Charbonnels are!’

M. Kahn and himself thereupon began to make merry at the Charbonnels’ expense. The wife was wearing an out­rageous yellow shawl, and her husband sported a country-cut frock-coat which looked as though it had been hewn into shape with an axe. They were both very short, stout and red, and were eagerly pressing forward, with their chins almost resting upon the balustrade of the gallery in order to get a better view of the proceedings, which, judging by their blank, staring eyes, were utterly unintelligible to them.

‘If Rougon gets the sack,’ said La Rouquette, ‘I wouldn’t give a couple of sous for the Charbonnels’ case. It will be just the same with Madame Correur.’ Then he inclined his head towards M. Kahn’s ear, and continued in a very low tone: ‘You, now, who know Rougon, just tell me who and what that Madame Correur is. She formerly kept a lodging-house, didn’t she? Rougon used to lodge with her, and it is even said that she lent him money. What does she do now?’

M. Kahn assumed a very grave expression and slowly rubbed his beard. ‘Madame Correur is a highly respectable lady,’ he replied curtly.

This answer checked La Rouquette’s curiosity. He bit his lips with the expression of a schoolboy who has just been lectured. For a moment they both looked in silence at Madame Correur, who was sitting near the Charbonnels. She was wearing a very showy dress of mauve silk, with a profusion of lace and ornaments. Her face showed too much colour, her forehead was covered with little fair dollish curls, and her plump neck, still very comely in spite of her eight-and-forty years, was fully exposed to view.

Just at this moment, however, the sudden sound of a door opening and a rustle of skirts at the far end of the Chamber caused all heads to turn. A tall girl exquisitely beautiful, but strangely dressed in an ill-made sea-green satin gown, had entered the box assigned to the diplomatic body, followed by an elderly lady in black.

‘Ah! there’s the fair Clorinde!’ said M. La Rouquette, who had risen to bow at random.

M. Kahn had also risen; but he stooped towards M. Béjuin, who was now enclosing his letters in envelopes: ‘Countess Balbi and her daughter are there,’ he said. ‘I am going up to ask them if they have seen Rougon.’

The President meanwhile had taken a fresh handful of papers from his desk. Without ceasing his perusal of them he cast a glance at the beautiful Clorinde Balbi, whose arrival had given rise to a buzz of comments in the Chamber. Then, while he passed the papers one by one to a clerk, he said in monotonous tones, never even pausing to punctuate his words: ‘Presentation of a bill to continue certain extra duties in the town of Lille... of a bill to unite into one single commune the communes of Doulevant-le-Petit and Ville-en-Blaisais (Haute-Marne) — ‘

When M. Kahn came back again he seemed quite discon­solate. ‘Really, no one appears to have seen anything of him,’ he said to his colleagues, Béjuin and La Rouquette, whom he met at the foot of the semicircle. ‘I hear that the Emperor sent for him yesterday evening, but I haven’t been able to learn the result of their interview. There is nothing so provoking as being unable to get a satisfactory account of what happens.’

La Rouquette turned round and whispered into M. Béjuin’s ear: ‘Poor Kahn is terribly afraid lest Rougon should get into disfavour at the Tuileries. He might fish for his railway if that should occur.’

In reply M. Béjuin, who was of a taciturn disposition, said very gravely: ‘The day when Rougon retires from the Council of State, we shall all be losers.’ Then he beckoned to one of the ushers and gave him the letters which he had just written, to post.

The three deputies remained standing on the left of the President’s desk, discreetly discussing the disfavour with which Rougon was threatened. It was an intricate story. A dis­tant relation of the Empress, one Señor Rodriguez, had been claiming a sum of two million francs from the French Govern­ment since the year 1808. During the war with Spain, a vessel freighted with sugar and coffee, and belonging to this Rodriguez, who was a shipowner, had been taken in the Bay of Biscay by a French frigate, the
Vigilante,
and brought to Brest. Acting upon information received from a local com­mission, the administrative officials had declared the capture to be a valid one, without referring the matter to the Prize Committee. Rodriguez, however, had promptly appealed to the Council of State, and, after his death, his son, under every successive Government, had vainly tried to bring the matter to an issue until the day came when a word from his distant cousin, Eugénie de Montijo, now all-powerful, had secured the insertion of his action in the official cause list.

Of this the three deputies talked, while the President’s monotonous voice still resounded above their heads: ‘Presen­tation of a bill authorising the department of Calvados to borrow 300,000 francs... of a bill authorising the town of Amiens to borrow 200,000 francs for the purpose of making new promenades... of a bill authorising the department of Côtes-du-Nord to borrow 345,000 francs to cover the deficiencies in the revenues of the last five years.’

‘The truth is,’ said M. Kahn, again lowering his voice, ‘that this Rodriguez had a very artful method of managing his business. He and a son-in-law of his, residing at New York, were the owners of vessels which sailed either under the American flag or the Spanish, according as one or the other might subject them to the least risk during their passage. Rougon told me that the captured vessel was exclusively the property of Rodriguez, and that there is no valid ground whatever for the claims that are made.’

‘And then,’ interposed M. Béjuin, ‘the steps that were taken by the officials cannot be impugned. The administrative officer at Brest was perfectly right in declaring the capture a valid one in accordance with the customs of the port, without referring the matter to the Prize Committee.’

Then they lapsed into silence for a moment while La Rouquette, with his back resting against the marble wall, raised his head, and tried to attract the attention of the fair Clorinde. ‘But,’ he asked naively, ‘why does Rougon object to the two millions being paid to Rodriguez? What difference would it make to him?’

‘It is a matter of conscience,’ said M. Kahn solemnly.

M. La Rouquette glanced at his colleagues one after the other, but, seeing them both so grave, he did not even venture to smile.

‘Then, too,’ continued M. Kahn, as though he were dwelling upon some thought which he had not expressed aloud, ‘Rougon has had a good deal of bother since Marsy has been Minister of the Interior. They have never been able to get on together. Rougon himself told me that, if it had not been for his attachment to the Emperor, for whom he has already done so much, he would long ago have retired into private life. He no longer seems welcome at the Tuileries, and he feels that a change has become necessary for him.’

‘He is acting like an honourable man.’ remarked M. Béjuin.

‘Yes, indeed,’ said M. La Rouquette, with a wise look, ‘if he wants to retire, the opportunity is a good one. All the same, his friends will be greatly grieved. Just look at the colonel up there, with his anxious face! He has been hoping to fasten the ribbon of Commander of the Legion of Honour round his neck on the 15th of next August. And pretty Madame Bouchard, too, swore that worthy Monsieur Bou­chard should be head of department at the Ministry of the Interior before six months were over. Little Escorailles, Rougon’s pet, was to put the nomination under Monsieur Bouchard’s napkin on Madame’s birthday. But where have they got to, pretty Madame Bouchard and little Escorailles?’

The three deputies looked about for them, and at last discovered them ensconced at the back of the gallery, in the front part of which they had been seated at the opening of the sitting. They had taken refuge in the gloom there behind a bald old gentleman, and were both very quiet, though very red.

However, the President was now coming to the end of his reading.

‘A bill,’ said he, ‘to sanction an increase in the rate of interest upon a loan authorised by an Act of the 9th of June, 1853, and to impose an extraordinary rate in the department of La Manche.’

Just then M. Kahn ran forward to meet a deputy who was entering the Chamber, and as he brought him along he exclaimed, ‘Here is Monsieur de Combelot. He will give us some news.’

M. de Combelot, an imperial chamberlain whom the department of the Landes had chosen as deputy upon the formally expressed desire of the Emperor, bowed with a discreet air while waiting to be questioned. He was a tall, handsome man, with a very white skin, and an inky black beard which had been the means of winning him great favour among the ladies.

‘Well,’ asked M. Kahn, ‘what do they say at the Tuileries? What has the Emperor decided upon?’

‘Well, indeed,’ replied M. de Combelot in a guttural tone, ‘they say a good many things. The Emperor has the warmest friendship for the President of the Council of State. Their interview was undoubtedly of the most cordial nature. Yes, indeed, most cordial.’

Then he stopped, after carefully weighing his words, as it were, so as to satisfy himself that he had not said too much.

‘Then the resignation is withdrawn?’ asked M. Kahn, with glistening eyes.

‘I did not say that,’ replied the chamberlain, uneasily. ‘I know nothing about it. You understand that my position is a peculiar one — ‘

He did not finish what he was going to say, but contented himself with smiling, and then hurried off to take his seat. M. Kahn shrugged his shoulders, and remarked to M. La Rouquette, ‘But you, surely, ought to be posted on what is going on. Doesn’t your sister, Madame de Llorenz, give you any information?’

‘Oh, my sister is even more reserved than Monsieur de Combelot,’ replied the young deputy, with a laugh. ‘Since she has become one of the ladies-in-waiting, she has put on quite a minister’s gravity; though yesterday, indeed, she assured me that the resignation would be accepted. By the way, I can tell you a funny story in connection with this matter. It appears that some lady was sent to Rougon to try to influence him. Now, you would never guess what Rougon did! He turned her out of doors, although she was a delicious creature!’

‘Rougon is a very steady fellow,’ M. Béjuin declared solemnly.

M. La Rouquette shook with laughter, and, protesting against M. Béjuin’s estimate of Rougon, asserted that he could have disproved it by evidence had he chosen. ‘And so, Madame Correur, for instance,’ said he.

‘Pooh! you don’t know the truth of that story,’ replied M. Kahn.

‘And the fair Clorinde?’

‘Nonsense, nonsense! Rougon is much too clever a fellow to forget himself with such a wild creature as that!’

Then the three men drew closer, and talked on without any mincing of words. They repeated the stories which were told about those two Italian women — mother and daughter — who were semi-adventuresses and semi-great ladies, and were to be met everywhere, at all parties and gatherings, at the houses of state ministers, in the stage-boxes of minor theatres, on the sands at fashionable watering-places, and even in out-of-the-way hostelries. The mother, it was said, had been the mistress of a royal personage; and the daughter, with an ignorance of French customs and etiquette which had earned her the reputation of being an eccentric, badly brought-up wench, galloped about on horseback till she foundered her mounts, made a display of her dirty stockings and damaged boots on rainy days, and looked around her for a husband with the boldest of smiles. M. La Rouquette told how she had come one night to a ball at the Sardinian Minister’s, in the character of the huntress Diana, with so scanty a costume that she had been all but asked in marriage the next morning by old Monsieur de Nougarède, a profligate senator. During the narration of this story, the three deputies cast frequent glances at the fair Clorinde, who, in spite of the regulations, was examining the members of the Chamber one after another through a large pair of opera-glasses.

‘No, no!’ M. Kahn repeated, ‘Rougon would never be such a fool! He says, though, that she is very intelligent, and he has nicknamed her “Mademoiselle Machiavelli.” She amuses him, but that’s all.’

‘At the same time Rougon is wrong in not marrying,’ said M.Béjuin. ‘It settles a man.’

Then they all three set to work to discuss the sort of woman that it was desirable Rougon should marry. She ought to be a woman of some age, thirty-five at the least, they said, rich, and competent to maintain her house on a footing of high decorum.

Hubbub still prevailed in the Chamber, and the three deputies became so absorbed in the stories they were telling, that they ceased to notice what was taking place around them. Away in the distance, the voices of ushers could be faintly heard calling out, ‘To the sitting, gentlemen, to the sitting.’

Fresh deputies were entering from all sides by way of the folding doors of massive mahogany, whose panels gleamed with golden stars. The Chamber, previously half empty, was now gradually filling. The little scattered groups of members talking to each other from one row of seats to another, with an expression of weariness on their faces, or dozing, or trying to conceal their yawns, were now disappear­ing amid the increasing crowd and general shaking of hands. As the members took their seats, they exchanged smiles; there was a general, almost family likeness about them. By the expression of their faces one and all seemed impressed by the duties they had to fulfil. A stout man, on the last row to the left, had fallen asleep, but was awakened by his neighbour; and, when the latter whispered a few words in his ear, he hastily rubbed his eyes, and assumed a more decorous atti­tude. The sitting, after dragging on wearily through a series of petty tedious details, was at last about to become supremely interesting.