Complete Works of Emile Zola (79 page)

When Philippe pressed him too much he spoke to him of Blanche, and said that a scandal would kill that poor girl, for M. de Cazalis would not consent to being deprived of several hundreds of thousands of francs without revolutionizing all Marseille.

It was thus that he restrained his brother, and prevented him from making a scene which might have caused irreparable misfortune.

Briefly, Marius proved to Philippe that the time had not arrived to be avenged and claim the inheritance, and from that moment the existence of the family was even more peaceful. They had only one anxiety, they felt M. de Cazalis hovering round them in the dark, and they took every precaution to protect little Joseph against the attempts they dreaded.

In this way they reached the commencement of February. Marius had his mind at ease, he was pleased to see his brother put up with an obscure and modest mode of life, and believed him for ever cured of his ambitious dreams, There was nothing in the young man’s conduct to alarm him, he was saying to himself that he had overcome his evil genius, when all at once Philippe took to going out alone and to absenting himself from his office for entire days.

Marius trembled at the thought of their happiness being disturbed. He followed his brother in order to ascertain where he went, and he learnt that he was a member of a secret society, which, subject to impulsion coming no doubt from Paris, was actively at work propagating Republican ideas. This discovery upset him, he was in despair again at seeing his brother compromise himself and supply M. de Cazalis with arms which he might turn to terrible account. When he ventured to sermonize the conspirator, the latter answered:

“Listen, I promised you not to be guilty of any follies on my own account, but I had no intention in doing so, of renouncing my own opinions. The people’s time has come and I should be a man unworthy of consideration if I were not to labour for what I believe to be the good of all.”

And he added with a smile:

“In future I shall have but one love and her name will be ‘Liberty’.”

Marius endeavoured in vain to keep him at home in the evening beside little Joseph. He would listen to nothing, and the young household were obliged to submit in silence and despair to the ruin of their happiness.

The truth was that a peaceful life did not suit Philippe. He had been able to live for two months in bourgeois tranquillity, but he now began to feel sick at heart. What he required was violent excitement, an existence full of danger and agitation, and he dashed with delight into the peril offered by a revolution that was imminent. He had always been a man of action and an ultra democrat. Embittered by suffering, having to avenge himself of the nobility, he accepted the hope of an insurrection with lively joy. And so, he resumed his blunt manner, made himself the leader of a party, urged the working classes on blindly to revolt and prepared the indigent population for the barricades that he saw in perspective.

On Friday, 25th February, a thunder-clap burst upon Marseille. News came of the overthrow of Louis Philippe and the proclamation of the Republic at Paris.

The city was astounded. This population of commercial people who were conservatives by instinct, having no care beyond their material interests, was entirely devoted to the dynasty of the Orléans who for fifteen years had favoured, in a large measure, the development of commerce and industry.

The opinion predominating at Marseille was that the best government was that which allows speculators the greatest liberty of action. Consequently the inhabitants were greatly alarmed at the announcement of a crisis which would naturally put a stop to business and bring about numerous bankruptcies by causing the credit on which most of the commercial houses alone existed, to be stopped.

Under these circumstances Marseille received news of the Republic as a deplorable commercial disaster. The city felt wounded at heart, in its prosperity, by the insurrectional movement at Paris. The majority were in despair at the idea of losing the five-franc pieces they had hoarded up, and there were but few who felt a tremor at the word “Liberty” or whom it drew from the heavy slumber of wealth.

Philippe had been too confident when he thought he could sow and develop Republican ideas among his fellow townsmen. He exerted himself to do so with all the strength of his nature, dreaming wide awake and working hard to realize his dreams. If he had made a better study of the people among whom he lived, if he had possessed the necessary coolness to judge men and things, he would have renounced the idea of raising the standard of liberalism and have prudently remained quiet.

The Republican party, to tell the truth, did not exist; there was no connection between the liberal bourgeois class and the people: the latter remained on the lowest stage, without leaders, without any well-defined tendencies, and with no courage to act alone; the bourgeois class were satisfied with a little reasonable liberty, prepared for their use. The few drawing-room republicans who uttered their fine phrases here and there, were simple babblers who did not understand the modern ideas of the various classes of society, and who merely took advantage of the new state of things to make themselves prominent.

Opposed to these weak and disunited Republican elements, were two powerful camps: the Legitimists who were laughing in the sleeve at the overthrow of Louis Philippe, hoping to take advantage of the disturbance to seize the reins of power again, and the Conservatives, the crowd of commercial men who clamoured for peace at any cost, whoever were the master, a legitimate King or an Usurper. The latter only hoped ardently for one liberty: the liberty to earn millions.

If Marseille had dared, it would perhaps have made a counter-revolution. Compelled to submit to events, it confined itself to opposing the new government with sullen reaction. It accepted the Republic, from the first moment, with distrust, and endeavoured to lessen the effects of the new order of things as much as possible. The Conservative and Legitimist elements still dominated the city, and made it a very active centre of opposition.

At times, when Philippe was not led away by excitement, he could see clearly that he and his would never succeed in making Marseille a Republican city, and he then experienced great despair and anger. For some time he took to journalism; but he soon understood that the flaming articles he published were not even read by the frightened swarm of commercial men and that his enthusiasm was thrown away. He then saw that action was preferable to journalism.

One of the measures that made him despair the most was the formation of a National Guard selected exclusively among the aristocratic bourgeois of Marseille. This National Guard was evidently destined to keep the people in check. He would have liked to see the poor admitted to its ranks as well as the wealthy, so that the guard of the city might be entrusted to a generality of citizens, to a body honestly animated with liberal sentiments.

The people alarmed the Conservatives who armed the bourgeois class so as to create an antagonistic feeling between the two, and to set one against the other if circumstances permitted. It was simply preparing civil war. The corporation of stevedores was the only element among the labouring classes, that was admitted into the ranks, because it was no doubt thought that the members of this corporation, who were in the pay, as it were, of the merchants who employed them, would consent to fight against their fellows, the other workers, the populace whose name alone caused alarm.

Philippe energetically refused to belong to the National Guard.

“I shall remain with the people,” he exclaimed in public. “If ever they are attacked, if their rights are not respected, I shall advise them to arm also and will fight with them.”

From Friday 25th to Tuesday 29th Marseille could not decide on proclaiming the Republic. The authorities of the former regime remained at their post and the entire city was anxious and ill at ease. The Prefect and Mayor affirmed that they were without news from Paris. Feeling there was great peril in leaving the power in the hands of the servants of the former King, the Republicans made several manifestations without effect. Reaction was already commencing and the Conservatives would not abandon the position without being certain there was no further hope. Monday night was reached thus. A multitude of workmen assembled on the Cannebière, were to march to the Town Hall in a body, with torches in their hands and a flag at their head, to obtain a formal promise that the new government would be publicly proclaimed on the following morning.

During these five days of anxiety, Philippe was in a terrible state of excitement. He did not go to his office, returned home late, quite upset with the violent emotions of the day, and brought angry and threatening language into the sad and distressed young household.

Fine and Marius gazed on him in despair, convinced that he was going to his ruin, and unable to stop him at the brink of the precipice.

CHAPTER XI

IN WHICH MATHÉUS BECOMES A REPUBLICAN

WHEN M. de Cazalis’ temper had calmed down on the day following his expedition to the cottage of Ayasse, the gardener, he was seized with absolute terror. He felt himself in the power of his enemies: now that Philippe had obtained his pardon, the Cayols would no doubt track him without pity.

He allowed Mathéus to be a witness of his alarm. Not knowing on whom to vent the rage that his powerlessness aroused within him, he overwhelmed his agent with reproaches, reviled him and said that if he had not stolen Joseph, it must be because he was in the pay of Marius.

Mathéus received the abuse philosophically and shrugged his shoulders.

“Very good! continue!” he said, impudently, “call me a villain, if that relieves you. At heart you know I am devoted to you, because you pay me far more liberally than those beggars Cayol could ever do. Instead of getting irritable, it would be wiser to think over the position and come to a decision.”

The rascal’s self-possession calmed down M. de Cazalis and he then confided to his accomplice, that he had a very good mind to fly, and go and live in peace in Italy or England. It was the simplest and most expeditious way of escaping the annoyances with which he was threatened. They would certainly not go and demand the accounts of his guardianship in a foreign country.

Mathéus listened to his master and shook his head. This idea of running away did not suit his views at all. To complete his fortune he required M. de Cazalis to remain at Marseille, so that he might speculate on his fright and get all the money he could out of him. He certainly felt that the latter was right in wishing to take to his heels, which meant safety, but he cared very little about the safety of M. de Cazalis, and did not mind if he compromised him, from the moment it was to his interest to launch him into a struggle from which the issue was doubtful. What he desired above everything, was not to lose his pay as a spy. He therefore pleaded warmly against flight, and he was fortunate enough to find good reasons to support his argument.

“Why fly?” he said. “Have you abandoned the idea of avenging yourself then? There is no reason to despair. Your enemies are trembling before you and will never dare attack you openly. There are a thousand things that bind them to silence. Come, you are very wrong to be alarmed. In your place I would remain and conquer. I would openly assume the offensive. Those idiots are sure to make a mistake. We will take advantage of everything, and the time will come when we shall have them again in our power. You have accused me of clumsiness because I did not succeed in bringing you the little one. I am not clumsy and I have a return match to play. On the word of an honest man, you shall have the child. The deuce! Acting together we can make anything we engage in succeed.”

He spoke at length, cleverly appealed to his employer’s pride and vengeance, and ended by persuading him to remain and continue the struggle. Then there was a long conference between them.

Before doing anything M. de Cazalis desired Mathéus to make an effort with Blanche. He was to endeavour to obtain her signature to various documents which would deprive her son of a large part of his inheritance.

He set out on his errand firmly decided not to get anything signed, for if he acted in accordance with his master’s desire, that would simplify matters too much, and his services would no longer be required, as when the documents were once signed his master could dispense with his assistance. He arranged in such a manner that Blanche firmly refused her signature.

M. de Cazalis was exasperated at this refusal; and only dreamed of vengeance. He spoke of nothing less than having the Cayols knocked on the head.

It was at that degree of irritation that Mathéus wished to see him arrive, and he took advantage of it to make him give him full powers. He then begged him not to meddle in the affair, so as not to compromise himself. Every evening he called and made him a report which was true or false; he kept him informed of the acts and attitude of his enemies, calming him, irritating him according to his requirements, and always promising him prompt victory.

Two months passed. M. de Cazalis was beginning to get impatient, saying the Cayols were too circumspect, and that such people would never make a mistake, when one evening Mathéus entered his drawing-room, rubbing his hands with the air of a conqueror.

“What’s the news?” inquired the ex-deputy impatiently of his accomplice.

Mathéus did not answer immediately. He had seated himself comfortably in an armchair, and, with his hands crossed over his stomach, sat blinking his eyes with a sanctimonious air. This lackey treated the illustrious descendant of the Cazalis as an equal.

“What do you think of the Republic?” he abruptly inquired of his master, in a bantering tone. “It’s a fine invention of the human mind, is it not?”

The master shrugged his shoulders. He tolerated this rascal’s impudence, and the latter took secret delight in wounding him.

“You are aware that the monarchy is dead and buried,” continued the tatterdemalion in the same bantering tone. “We have been citizens for the last twenty-four hours and I feel inclined to address you in the second person.”