Complete Works of Emile Zola (440 page)

‘I didn’t want anything,’ he continued; ‘I was driven into it in spite of myself. Well, I suppose things have turned out for the best. If I succeed in doing any good, I shall be quite satisfied.’

Then he finished his cup of coffee, while Clorinde rolled another cigarette.

‘Do you remember,’ she inquired, ‘my asking you, two years ago, when you were leaving the Council of State, your reason for your sudden whim? You were very reserved then, but surely you can speak out now. Come, between ourselves, tell me frankly if you had a definite plan in your mind.’

‘One always has a plan,’ he answered shrewdly. ‘I felt that I was falling, and preferred to jump down of my own accord.’

‘And has your plan been realised? Have events happened just as you anticipated?’

‘Well, hardly that. Things never turn out exactly as one calculates. One must be satisfied if one attains one’s end somehow.’ Then he paused to offer Clorinde a glass of liqueur. ‘Which will you have, curaçoa or chartreuse?’ She chose chartreuse; and, as Rougon was pouring it out, there came another knock at the door. Clorinde again hid her cigarette with a gesture of impatience, whilst Rougon got up angrily, still holding the decanter. This time it was a letter bearing a large seal which was brought for his inspec­tion. When he had glanced at it, he put it into his pocket.

‘Very well,’ he said. ‘Don’t let me be disturbed again.’

When he came back to Clorinde, the young woman was steeping her lips in the chartreuse, slowly sipping it, while glancing upward at him with glistening eyes. There was a tender look upon her face again.

Then, putting down her glass and leaning on the table, she said, in a low voice: ‘No, my dear fellow, you will never know all that was done for you.’

Rougon drew his chair closer to hers and, in his turn, rested his elbows on the table. ‘Ah, you will tell me all about that now, won’t you?’ he cried with animation. ‘Don’t let us have any more mysteries, eh? Tell me all that you yourself did.’

She shook her head, however, while pressing her cigarette between her lips.

‘What, is it something dreadful?’ Rougon asked. ‘Are you afraid that I shouldn’t be able to repay you? Wait a moment, now; I’m going to try to guess. You wrote to the Pope and you dropped a bit of consecrated wafer into my water jug without letting me know?’

Clorinde seemed vexed by this jesting, and threatened to leave him if he continued it. ‘Don’t scoff at religion,’ she said. ‘It will bring you misfortune.’

Then, waving away the smoke which she was puffing from her lips and which seemed to inconvenience Rougon, she con­tinued in an expressive tone: ‘I saw a great many people indeed, and I won you several friends.’

She experienced a strong, an evil, inclination to tell him everything, for she did not want him to remain ignorant of the fact that she had done much for his advantage. Her con­fession would be a first instalment towards the satisfaction of her patiently hoarded rancour. ‘Yes, yes,’ she continued significantly; ‘I won over to your side several men who were strongly opposed to you. And I destroyed the influence of others.’

Rougon had turned very pale, for he understood her only too well. ‘Ah!’ was all he said, as if to avoid the subject; but Clorinde defiantly fixed her large black eyes upon him, and giving way he began to question her. ‘Monsieur de Marsy, eh?’

Clorinde nodded assent and then blew a whiff of smoke over her shoulder.

‘Chevalier Rusconi?’

Again she nodded.

‘Monsieur Lebeau, Monsieur de Salneuve, Monsieur Guyot-Laplanche?’

She nodded at each name, and then finished her glass of chartreuse in little sips, with an expression of triumph on her face.

Rougon had risen from his seat. He walked to the end of the room as if pondering, and then came back and stood behind Clorinde. She could hear him panting. And all at once she turned sharply, fearing he was going to kiss her hair. ‘I know your thoughts,’ said she, ‘but remember, I had no need to plead your cause with yourself.’

Then, as he looked at her, white with anger, she burst into a laugh. ‘Oh! how simple you are!’ she cried. ‘If I just joke a little, you believe all I say. Really, you are very amusing.’

Rougon stood there for a moment quite nonplussed. The ironical fashion in which she contradicted herself made her more irritating and provoking. Her whole person, her rippling laugh and glistening eyes, confirmed her confessions and repeated them. However, just then there came a third knock at the door.

‘Well, I don’t care, I shall stick to my cigarette this time,’ said Clorinde.

An usher came into the room, quite out of breath, and stammered that the Minister of Justice wanted to speak to his excellency. Then he cast a furtive glance at the lady he saw smoking.

‘Say that I have gone out!’ retorted Rougon. ‘I am not at home to any one, do you hear!’

When the usher had bowed and retired backwards from the room, Rougon vented his anger and brought his fist down upon the table. He was scarcely allowed to breathe! he cried. Why, on the previous day they had pursued him even to his dressing-room where he had gone to shave.

Clorinde, however, rose from her chair and deliberately walked to the door. ‘Wait a moment,’ she said; ‘they sha’n’t disturb us again.’ And then she quietly turned the key in the lock. ‘There!’ she resumed. ‘They may knock as much as they like now.’

She began to roll a third cigarette as she stood near the window. Rougon stepped up to her and whispered close to her neck: ‘Clorinde.’

She stood still, and he continued in deeper tones: ‘Clorinde, don’t you know that I love you?’

She remained perfectly unruffled. She shook her head, but so feebly that it seemed as if she wished to encourage him, and he ended by planting a rough kiss on the back of her neck, just beneath her hair. Then, however, she swung herself round, and with scorn in her eyes and her voice she cried: ‘Ah! so you’ve got another attack, my friend? I thought you were cured of that. What a strange man you are! You kiss a woman after eighteen months’ consideration!’

Rougon remained for a moment with downcast head, but then sprang towards her, caught hold one of her hands and began to cover it with kisses. She made no attempt to with­draw it, but continued to jeer at him.

‘Please don’t bite my fingers. As long as you don’t do that, I don’t mind. I should really never have believed it of you! You had become so serious and steady when I went to see you in the Rue Marbeuf. And now you’re turned quite crazy again! Truly, you’re a nice kind of man! I can’t keep up a passion as you do. It’s all quite over with me. Remember that I offered to be your wife, but you refused me then and now it is too late.’

‘Hear me,’ he murmured, ‘I will do anything, everything, you want.’

But the young woman shook her head, punishing him for his old contempt, and enjoying, in so doing, a first instalment of her vengeance. She had wanted to see him all-powerful in order that she might in her turn treat him with contempt.

Then Rougon fell ignominiously at her feet and began to kiss her skirts, grovelling there, humbling himself, he who could be so haughty with others. As he gradually grew bolder, however, she said to him in a quiet voice: ‘Take care!’ and as he disregarded her caution, she suddenly touched his forehead with the burning end of her cigarette. He recoiled with a faint cry, and she on her side darted away and caught hold of the bell-rope which hung against the wall beside the mantelpiece. ‘I shall ring,’ she said, ‘and I shall say it was you who locked the door!’

At this Rougon swung himself round, holding his hands to his temples, and shaken by a violent tremor. Then for a moment he remained quite still, feeling as though his head were going to split. He stiffened himself in the hope of calming his feverishness. There was a ringing in his ears, and his eyes were blinded by ruddy fires.

‘I am a brute,’ he murmured at last. ‘It is folly.’

Clorinde laughed triumphantly, and began to point a moral. He did wrong to despise women, said she. Later on, he would find that there were such things as very clever women. Then she relapsed into a good-natured playful tone. ‘You are not vexed with me, are you? You must never try to make love to me again, you know. I don’t want you to do it. I don’t like to think of it.’

Rougon paced up and down, full of shame; while she let go of the bell-rope, sat down at the table again, and compounded herself a glass of sugar and water.

‘Well, I got a letter from my husband yesterday,’ she quietly resumed. ‘I had so much to do this morning that I should probably have broken my promise to come and lunch with you if I hadn’t wanted to show you that letter. See, here it is! It reminds you of your promises.’

Rougon took the letter and read it as he walked about the room. Then he threw it on the table in front of Clorinde with a gesture expressive of weariness.

‘Well?’ she asked.

He made no immediate reply, but stretched himself and yawned. ‘He is a simpleton,’ he said at last.

Clorinde was greatly offended. For some time past she had not tolerated any doubt of her husband’s capabilities. She bent her head for a moment and repressed the rebellious twitchings of her hands. She was gradually emerging from her disciple-like submissiveness, draining, as it were, from Rougon sufficient of his strength to enable her to confront him as a formidable foe.

‘If we were to show this letter, it would be all over with him,’ said the minister, impelled by Clorinde’s disdain to avenge himself upon her husband. ‘Ah! it isn’t so easy as you suppose to find a place that he’s fit for.’

‘You are exaggerating, my friend,’ replied Clorinde, after a short pause. ‘You used to say that he had a great future before him. He possesses some sterling good qualities; and it isn’t always the sharpest men who go furthest!’

Rougon, however, still paced the room, and shrugged his shoulders.

‘It is to your interest that he should join the ministry,’ continued Clorinde. ‘You would have a supporter in him. If it is true, as is reported, that the Minister of Commerce and Agriculture is in bad health and wishes to retire, the opportunity is a splendid one. My husband is quite competent to perform the duties of the office, and his mission to Italy would make his selection quite natural. You know that the Emperor is very fond of him, and that they get on very well together. They have the same ideas on many subjects. A word from you would settle the matter.’

Rougon took two or three more turns before replying. Then, halting in front of Clorinde, he said: ‘Well, after all, I am agreeable. He won’t be the only simpleton in office. But I’m doing this solely for your sake, remember. I want to disarm you. I am afraid you haven’t a good heart. You’re too vindictive, aren’t you?’

He spoke playfully, and Clorinde laughed as she replied: ‘Oh, yes, indeed; I’m very vindictive. I remember things a long time.’

Then, as she was about to leave him, he detained her for a moment by the door, and twice squeezed her fingers, but did not say another word.

Directly Clorinde had gone, Rougon returned to his private office. The spacious room was empty. He sat down at the writing-table and rested his elbows on his blotting-pad, breathing heavily in the surrounding silence. His eyelids dropped, and a deep reverie lulled him to a state of drowsi­ness for the next ten minutes. Then he suddenly started, stretched himself, and rang the bell.

Merle made his appearance.

‘The prefect of the Somme is still here, isn’t he?’ asked Rougon. ‘Show him in.’

Bracing up his short figure, the prefect entered the room with a pale, smiling face. He greeted the minister with all due deference. Rougon, who felt little energy, waited till he had finished. Then he asked him to be seated.

‘I must tell you why I have sent for you, Monsieur le préfet,’ he began. ‘There are certain instructions which must be given by word of mouth. You are not ignorant of the fact that the revolutionary party is raising its head. We have been within an ace of a frightful catastrophe. The country requires to be reassured, to feel that it can rely upon the energetic protection of the Government. His Majesty the Emperor, on his side, has come to the conclusion that some examples must be made, for hitherto his kindness has been strangely abused.’

Rougon spoke slowly, reclining in his arm-chair and playing the while with a large agate seal. The prefect ex­pressed his approval of each sentence by a brisk nod.

‘Your department,’ continued the minister, ‘is one of the worst. The republican ulcer — ‘

‘I make every effort — ‘ interposed the prefect.

‘Don’t interrupt me. It is necessary that strong repressive steps should be taken there; and it was to express my views to you on the subject that I wished to see you. We have been drawing up a list — ‘

Then he began to search among his papers, took up a bundle of documents, and turned them over one by one.

‘It is a return for the whole of France of the number of arrests that are considered necessary. The number for each department is proportionate to the blow which it is intended to strike. I want you to understand our object thoroughly. In the Haute-Marne, for instance, where the Republicans are in a very small minority, there are to be only three arrests. In the Meuse, on the other hand, there will be fifteen. As for your department, the Somme — isn’t it? — well, for the Somme, we think — ‘

He turned the papers over again, blinking his heavy eye­lids; then raised his head and looked the prefect in the face. ‘Monsieur le préfet, you have twelve arrests to make,’ said he.

The pale little man bowed. ‘Twelve arrests,’ he repeated. ‘I understand your excellency perfectly.’

He seemed perplexed, however, as though affected by some slight misgivings which he would have preferred to conceal. However, after a few minutes’ general conversation, just as the minister rose to dismiss him, he made up his mind to ask: ‘Could your excellency tell me the persons who are to be arrested?’

‘Oh! arrest anybody you like!’ Rougon replied. ‘I can’t trouble myself about the details. I should never get through the work if I did. Leave Paris this evening and begin your arrests to-morrow. I advise you, however, to strike high. Down in your department you have some lawyers and mer­chants and druggists who busy themselves with politics. Just lock all those fellows up. It will have a good effect.’