Complete Works of Emile Zola (1689 page)

BOOK: Complete Works of Emile Zola
7.9Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

He spoke these last words with such fervour that Marc smiled. ‘Ah! my dear master, now I recognise you,’ he said. ‘You are not going to give up the battle! You will end by winning it, for you have truth on your side.’

Salvan gaily admitted that he had previously given way to a fit of discouragement. The infamous proceedings with which Simon was threatened had unnerved him. ‘Advice?’ he repeated, ‘you asked me for advice as to how you should act. Let us see; let us examine the situation together.’ There was Forbes, the Academy Rector, gentle and affable, a very able man of letters, and a very intelligent man also. But he was deep in historical studies, covertly disdainful of the present age, and he acted as a mere go-between for the intercourse of the Minister of Public Instruction and the university staff. Then, however, came Le Barazer, the Academy Inspector; and Salvan’s hope of future victory was centred in that sensible and courageous man, who was also a skilful politician. The experience of Le Barazer, who was now barely fifty years of age, dated back to the heroic days of the Republic, when the necessity of secular and compulsory education had imposed itself as the one sole possible basis of a free and just democracy. A worker for the good cause from the very outset, Le Barazer had retained all his hatred of clericalism, convinced that it was absolutely necessary to drive the priests from the schools, and to free people’s minds from all mendacious superstitions, if one desired that the nation should be strong, well-instructed, and capable of acting in the plenitude of its intelligence. But age, the obstacles he had encountered, the ever tenacious resistance of the Church, had added great prudence and tactical skill to his Republican zeal.

Nobody knew better than he how to utilise the little ground which he gained each day, and to oppose inertia to the assaults of his adversaries, when forcible resistance was impossible. He exerted the power he held as Academy Inspector without ever entering into a direct contest with anybody, either the Prefect or the Deputies or the Senators of the department, though, on the other hand, he refused to yield so long as his views were not adopted.

It was thanks to him that Salvan, although violently attacked by the clerical faction, was able to continue his work of regeneration, the renewing of the
personnel
of the elementary schoolmasters; and doubtless he alone could in a measure defend Simon against his subordinate, Inspector Mauraisin. For that handsome gentleman also had to be reckoned with, and he was likely to prove ferocious, a traitor to the university cause, and an accomplice of the Congregations, since he had come to the conclusion that the Church would prove victorious in the affair, and pay a higher reward than the other side for the services rendered to it.

‘Have you heard of his evidence?’ Salvan continued.

It appears that he said everything he could against Simon to Daix. To think that the inspection of our schools is confided to Jesuits of his stamp! It is the same with that fellow, Depinvilliers, the principal of the Lycée  of Beaumont, who attends Mass at St. Maxence every Sunday with his wife and his two ugly daughters. Opinions are free, of course; but if Depinvilliers is free to go to Mass, he ought not to be free to hand one of our establishments of secondary education over to the Jesuits. Father Crabot reigns at our Lycée as he reigns at the College of Valmarie. Ah! the bitter irony of it when one thinks that this secular Lycée, this Republican Lycée, which I sometimes hear called the rival of the Jesuit College, is in reality a mere branch of it! Ah! our Republic does fine work, it places its interests in very trusty and loyal hands! I can well understand Mauraisin working for the other side, which is ever active and which pays its supporters well!’

Then, coming to the point, Salvan added: ‘I tell you what I will do. I will see Le Barazer. Do not go to him yourself. It is better that any application should come from me, whom he supports so bravely. And it is useless to hustle him, he will act at the moment he thinks fit, and with such means as are at his disposal. He will certainly keep Mauraisin quiet, if he can render Simon no more direct service.... But what I advise you to do is to see Lemarrois, our Mayor and Deputy. You know him well, do you not? He was a friend of Berthereau, your wife’s father. He may be useful to you.’

Marc then took leave, and on reaching the street decided to call on Lemarrois at once. Eleven o’clock was striking, and he would doubtless find him at home. Turning, therefore, into the Rue Gambetta, a thoroughfare running from the Lycée to the Hôtel de Ville, and thus cutting Beaumont in halves, he made his way to the Avenue des Jaffres, the famous promenade of the town, which also traversed it, but from the Préfecture to the Cathedral. In that very avenue, in the midst of the aristocratic quarter, Lemarrois owned a luxurious house, where his beautiful wife, a Parisienne, often gave entertainments. Wealthy and already of repute in his profession, he had brought her from Paris at the time when he had returned to his native place to practise there and satisfy his political ambition. While he was yet a medical student, he had made the acquaintance of Gambetta, with whom intimacy had followed, for he showed much enthusiasm and firm Republicanism, and became indeed one of the great man’s favourite disciples. Thus he was regarded at Beaumont as a pillar of the middle-class Republic. And not only was he the husband of an amiable wife, but, intelligent and good-hearted, he was personally very popular with the poor, whom he attended gratuitously. His political advancement had been rapid; first he had become municipal councillor, then a departmental councillor, then deputy and mayor. For twelve years now he had been installed in the latter functions, and was still the uncontested master of the town and the chief of the departmental parliamentary contingent, though the latter included some reactionary deputies.

Directly he saw Marc enter his study, a spacious room furnished with chastened luxury, he went towards him with both hands outstretched, and an expression of smiling sympathy on his face. Dark, with scarcely a grey hair, though he was nearly fifty, he had a big head, with quick, bright eyes, and a profile fit for a medal.

‘Ah! my good fellow, I was astonished not to see you, and I can guess what motive has brought you to-day!

What an abominable business, is it not? That unfortunate Simon is innocent, that is certain from the frantic way in which he is being charged. I am on your side, you know — on your side with all my heart!’

Pleased by this reception, cheered at meeting a just man, Marc quickly explained to him that he came to solicit his influential help. There was surely something to be done. One could not allow an innocent man to be tried and perhaps condemned.

But Lemarrois was already raising his arms to heaven. ‘Do something, no doubt, no doubt!’ said he. ‘Only, what can one do against public opinion when the whole department is already stirred up? As you must know, the political situation is becoming more and more difficult. And the general elections will take place next May — that is, in scarcely nine months’ time! Do you not understand to what extreme prudence we are reduced? for we must not expose the Republic to the risk of a check.’

He had seated himself and his face became anxious while, toying with a large paper-knife, he expressed his fears about the agitated condition of the department, in which the Socialists were actively bestirring themselves, and gaining ground. He did not fear the election of any of them as yet, for none could command a sufficient majority; but if two Reactionaries, one of whom was Sanglebœuf, the so-called
rallié,
had been returned at the last elections, it was by reason of a diversion created by the Socialists. Each time that he pronounced that word ‘Socialists’ it was with a kind of aggressive bitterness, in which one could detect the fear and anger of the middle-class Republic, which now possessed power, in presence of the slow but irresistible use of the Socialist Republic which wished to possess it.

‘So how can I help you, my good fellow?’ he continued; I am bound hand and foot, for we have to reckon with public opinion. I don’t refer to myself, — I am certain of re-election, — but I have to think of my colleagues whom I must not leave wounded on the battle-field. If it were merely a question of my own seat I would sacrifice it at once so as to act solely in accordance with my conscience; but the Republic is at stake and we must not allow it to be defeated.’

Then he complained of the Prefect of the department, that handsome, well-groomed Hennebise, who sported glasses and arranged his hair so carefully. He gave no help whatever; for being perpetually afraid of getting into difficulties with his Minister or the Jesuits, he was careful to offend neither. He probably had secret leanings towards the priests and the military set, and it would be necessary to watch him, while pursuing, however, a course of diplomacy and compromise similar to his own.

‘Briefly,’ said Lemarrois, ‘you see me in despair, reduced to measure every step and weigh every word for the next nine months under penalty of being hissed by the readers of
Le Petit Beaumontais
, to the great delight of the clerical faction. This Simon affair falls on us at a most unfavourable moment. If the elections were not so near, I would march with you at once.’

Then, quite abruptly, he, usually so calm, lost his temper: ‘To make matters worse, Simon not only saddles us with this business at a difficult moment, but he chooses Delbos as his advocate, Delbos the Socialist, who is the
bite noire
of all right-thinking people. Frankly, that is the climax; Simon must be really desirous of seeing himself condemned.’

Marc had remained listening, pained at heart, feeling that another of his illusions was taking flight. Yet he knew Lemarrois to be honest, and he had seen him give many proofs of firm Republican faith.

‘But Delbos is very talented,’ the young man answered, ‘and if poor Simon chose him, it was because, like all of us, he considered him to be the man of the situation. Besides, it is not certain that another advocate would have accepted the brief. It is a frightful moment; people are becoming cowards.’

That word must have seemed to Lemarrois like a smack. He made a quick gesture, but he evinced no anger — indeed, he began to smile. ‘You consider me very cautious, do you not, my young friend?’ he said. ‘When you get older you will see that it is not always easy in politics to behave in accordance with one’s own convictions. But why do you not apply to my colleague Marcilly, your young deputy, the favourite and the hope of all the young intellectuals of the department? I have become an old, spent, prudent hack — that’s understood. But Marcilly, whose mind is so free and broad, will certainly place himself at your head. Go to see him, go to see him.’

Then, having escorted Marc to the landing, he again pressed his hands, promising that he would help him with all his power, when circumstances should permit it.

Indeed, thought Marc, why should he not go to Marcilly? The latter also lived in the Avenue des Jaffres, and it was not yet noon. The young schoolmaster was entitled to call on him, as he had acted, very discreetly, as one of his electoral canvassers, being full of enthusiasm for a candidate who was so sympathetic and possessed of such high literary culture. Bora at Jonville, Marcilly had distinguished himself as a pupil of the Training College, and had subsequently held a professorship at the Faculty of Beaumont, which post he had resigned in order to become a parliamentary candidate. Short, fair, and refined in appearance, with an amiable and ever-smiling face, he played havoc with women’s hearts, and even won the partiality of men, thanks to his rare skill in saying the right word to each, and in evincing all necessary obligingness. To the younger members of the electorate he endeared himself by his own comparative youth, for he was only thirty-two, and by the happy and elegant form of his speeches, in which he displayed much broadness of mind and knowledge of men and things. It was felt at the time of his election that one would at last have a really young deputy on whom one might rely. He would renew the science of politics, infuse into it the blood of the rising generations, and adorn it with faultless language, all the delightful bloom of sound literature. Indeed, for three years past Marcilly had been acquiring a more and more important position in the Chamber. His credit constantly increased, and, in spite of the fact that he was only two and thirty, he had already been spoken of for a ministerial portfolio. It was certain also that if he attended to his constituents’ affairs with untiring complaisance, he pushed on his own still more successfully, profiting by every circumstance to rise a little higher, but doing so in such a natural and easy way that nobody had yet regarded him as a mere
Arriviste
, one of those representatives of hot, impatient youth, eager for enjoyment and power in every form. His rooms were furnished and ornamented in a delicate style, and he received Marc like a comrade. He spoke of Simon, too, immediately, in a voice full of emotion, saying how deeply he was affected by the poor man’s fate. Of course he did not refuse to help him, he would speak in his favour, he would see people who might be useful. But whatever might be his graciousness, he ended by recommending extreme prudence on account of the proximity of the elections. If his manners were more caressing, his answer was much the same as Lemarrois’; he was secretly resolved to do nothing for fear of compromising the Republican party. The two schools might differ in outward appearance — that of Lemarrois being older and rougher in its ways; that of Marcilly, younger and more prodigal of compliments — but both were determined to abandon no shred of the power they held. And now, for the first time, Marc felt that Marcilly might be merely an
Arriviste
in his flower, resolved to follow his own course and bear his fruit. Nevertheless, on taking leave, it became necessary to thank him, for with a flow of gentle words the young deputy repeated that he was at his visitor’s disposal and would assuredly give some help.

Marc was full of fear and anxiety when he returned to Maillebois that day. Calling on the Lehmanns in the afternoon, he found the family in desolation. They had so confidently expected that further proceedings would be abandoned. David, who was present, quite upset by the bad news, still tried to believe in the possibility of some miracle which would prevent that iniquitous trial from taking place. But, on the morrow, things began to move quickly. The Indictment Chamber seemed to be in a singular hurry, for, the case was set down for hearing at the earliest assizes, those of October. In presence of the inevitable, David, with his ardent faith in his brother’s innocence, recovered all his courage, all that strength and firmness of mind which were to make him a hero. The trial would have to take place; it could not be avoided; but where was the jury that would dare to convict Simon when no proofs were forthcoming? The prisoner never varied in his cry of innocence; and the calmness with which he waited, the confidence in speedy release which he expressed to his brother at each visit, greatly fortified the latter. At the Lehmanns’ house, as the expectations of acquittal grew stronger, plans were formed, and Madame Simon talked of a month’s rest which she, her husband, and the children would afterwards take in Provence, where they had some friends. It was in the midst of this fresh spell of hopefulness that David one morning asked Marc to go with him to Beaumont in order that they might discuss the affair with Delbos, Simon’s counsel.

Other books

Tall Poppies by Louise Bagshawe
One Texas Night by Jodi Thomas
Killer Couples by Tammy Cohen
The Weeping Girl by Hakan Nesser
Selling Scarlett by Ella James, Mae I Design
Chocolate Covered Murder by Leslie Meier
Tower of Silence by Sarah Rayne
Death Cache by Helmer, Tiffinie