Complete Works of Emile Zola (345 page)

‘My husband was right, then,’ exclaimed Madame Pa­loque, in great surprise. ‘For a long time past he has been worrying me dreadfully to go and apologise to the Abbé. But I am very obstinate, and I would have let myself be killed sooner. But since the Abbé makes the first move — well, we ask nothing more than to live at peace with everyone. We will go to the Sub-Prefecture to-morrow.’

The next day the Paloques were very humble. Madame Paloque accused Abbé Fenil of the blackest conduct; and related with consummate impudence how she had gone to see him one day, and how he had spoken in her presence of turning ‘the whole of Abbé Faujas’s clique’ neck-and-crop out of Plassans.

‘If you like,’ she said to the priest, taking him aside, ‘I will give you a note written at the vicar-general’s dictation. It concerns you. He tried, I believe, to get several discredit­able stories inserted in the “Plassans Gazette.”‘

‘How did this note come into your hands?’ asked Faujas.

‘Well, it’s sufficient that it is there,’ she replied, without any sign of embarrassment.

And, with a smile, she continued:

‘I found it. I recollect, by the way, that there are two or three words written in the vicar-general’s own hand. I may trust to your honour in all this, may I not?
We are upright, honest people, and we don’t want to compromise ourselves.’

She pretended to be affected by scruples for three days before bringing him the note; and Madame de Condamin was obliged to assure her privately that an application to have Monsieur Rastoil pensioned off would shortly be made, so that her husband could succeed to his post. Then she gave up the paper. Abbé Faujas did not wish to keep it himself, but took it to Madame Rougon, and charged her to make use of it — keeping herself, however, strictly in the background — if the vicar-general showed the slightest sign of interfering in the elections.

Madame de Condamin also dropped a
hint to Monsieur Maffre that the Emperor was thinking about decorating him, and she made a formal promise to Doctor Porquier to find a suitable post for his good-for-nothing son. She showed the most obliging kindliness at the friendly afternoon meetings in the gardens. The summer was now drawing to a close, but she still arrived in light toilettes, shivering slightly and risk­ing a cold, in order to show her arms and overcome the last scruples of the Rastoil party. It was really under the Mourets’ arbour that the election was decided.

‘Well, my dear sub-prefect,’ said Abbé Faujas one day with a smile, when the two sets of guests were mingling to­gether; ‘the great battle is drawing near.’

They had now arrived at discussing the political struggle in a quiet friendly way. In the gardens at the back of the houses they cordially grasped each other’s hands, while in front of them they still feigned an appearance of hostility. On hearing Abbé Faujas, Madame de Condamin cast a quick glance at Monsieur Péqueur des Saulaies, who bent forward with his habitual elegance and said all in a breath:

‘I shall remain in my tent, Monsieur le Curé. I have been fortunate enough to make his excellency understand that it is the duty of the government, in the immediate interests of Plassans, to hold itself aloof. There will be no official candidate.

Monsieur de Bourdeu turned pale. His eyelids quivered and his hands trembled with delight.

‘There will be no official candidate?’ cried Monsieur Rastoil, greatly moved by this unexpected news, and depart­ing from the reserve which he generally maintained.

‘No,’ replied Monsieur Péqueur des Saulaies: ‘the town contains a sufficient number of honourable men to make its own choice of a representative.’

He bowed slightly towards Monsieur de Bourdeu, who rose from his seat, and stammered:

‘Undoubtedly, undoubtedly.’

While these remarks were being exchanged Abbé Surin had got up a game of ‘hot and cold;’ and Monsieur Rastoil’s daughters and Monsieur Maffre’s sons and Séverin were busy hunting for the Abbé’s handkerchief, which he had rolled into a ball and hidden. All the young people were flitting about their elders, while the priest called in his falsetto voice:

‘Hot! Hot!’

Angélique at length found the handkerchief in Doctor Por­quier’s gaping pocket, where Abbé Surin had adroitly slipped it. They all laughed and considered the selection of the hiding-place a very ingenious joke.

‘Bourdeu has a chance now,’ said Monsieur Rastoil, taking Abbé Faujas aside. ‘It is very annoying. I can’t tell him so, but we shan’t vote for him: he has compromised himself too much as an Orleanist.’

‘Just look at your son Séverin!’ cried Madame de Con­damin, interrupting the conversation. ‘What a big baby he is! He put the handkerchief under Abbé Bourrette’s hat.’

Then she lowered her voice as she continued:

‘By the way, I have to congratulate you, Monsieur Rastoil. I have received a letter from Paris, from a correspondent who tells me that he has seen your son’s name on an official list. He will be nominated assessor to the public prosecutor at Faverolles, I believe.’

The presiding judge bowed with a flushed face. The minister had never forgiven the election of the Marquis de Lagrifoul. Since then a kind of fatality had seemed to pre­vent him from finding either a place for his son or husbands for his daughters. He had never uttered any complaints, but his compressed lips had often borne witness to his feelings on the matter.

‘I was remarking to you,’ he resumed, to conceal his emotion, ‘that Bourdeu is dangerous. But he isn’t a Plassans man, and he doesn’t know our requirements. We might just as well re-elect the Marquis.’

‘If Monsieur de Bourdeu persists in his candidature,’ re­joined Abbé Faujas, ‘the Republicans will poll an imposing minority, which will have a very bad effect.’

Madame de Condamin smiled. She pretended to under­stand nothing about politics, and slipped away while the Abbé drew the presiding judge aside to the end of the arbour, where they continued the conversation in subdued tones. As they slowly strolled back again, Monsieur Rastoil remarked:

‘You are quite right. He would be a very suitable candi­date. He belongs to no party, and we could all unite in sup­porting him. I am no fonder of the Empire than you are, but it would be childish to go on sending deputies to the Chamber for no other purpose than to obstruct and rail at the govern­ment. Plassans is suffering from such tactics. What we want is a man with a good head for business, a local man who can look after the interests of the place.

‘Hot! Hot!’ now cried Aurélie in her fluty voice.

Abbé Surin passed through the arbour at the head of the searchers, hunting for the handkerchief.

‘Cold! Cold!’ exclaimed the girl, laughing at their lack of success. One of the young Maffres, however, lifted up a flower-pot and there discovered the handkerchief folded in four.

‘That big stick Aurélie might have very well crammed it into her mouth,’ said Madame Paloque, ‘There is plenty of room for it, and no one would ever have thought of looking for it there.’

Her husband reduced her to silence with an angry look. He would no longer allow her to indulge in bitter language. Fearing that Monsieur de Condamin might have overheard her, he exclaimed:

‘What a handsome lot of young people!’

‘Your success is certain, my dear sir,’ the conservator of rivers and forests was saying to Monsieur de Bourdeu. ‘But be careful what you do when you get to Paris. I hear from a very trustworthy source that the government has resolved upon taking strong measures if the opposition shows itself too provoking.’

The ex-prefect looked at Monsieur de Condamin very uneasily, wondering if he was making fun of him. Monsieur Péqueur des Saulaies merely smiled, and stroked his mous­taches. Then the conversation became general again, and Monsieur de Bourdeu thought he could detect that everyone was congratulating him upon his approaching triumph, with a discretion that was full of tact. He enjoyed the sweets of an hour’s imaginary popularity.

‘It is surprising how much more quickly the grapes ripen in the sun,’ remarked Abbé Bourrette, who had never moved from his chair, but now raised his eyes to the arbour.

‘In the north,’ Doctor Porquier explained, ‘grapes can often only be got to ripen by freeing them from the surround­ing leaves.’

They were beginning to discuss this point, when Séverin in his turn cried out: ‘Hot! Hot!’

But he had hung the handkerchief with such little conceal­ment upon the garden door that Abbé Surin found it at once. When the Abbé hid it again, the whole troop vainly scoured the garden for nearly half an hour, and at last gave it up. Then the Abbé showed it to them lying in the centre of a flower­bed, rolled up so artistically that it looked like a white stone. This was the most effective stratagem of the afternoon.

The news that the government had determined to run no candidate of its own quickly spread through the town, where it gave rise to great excitement. This abstention had the natural effect of disquieting the various political sections, who had each counted upon the diversion of a certain number of votes in favour of the official candidate to enable their own man to win. The Marquis de Lagrifoul, Monsieur de Bour­deu and hatter Maurin appeared to divide the support of the voters pretty equally amongst them. There would certainly be a second ballot, and heaven only could tell what name would then appear at the top of the list. However, there was certainly some talk of a fourth candidate, whose name nobody quite knew, some moderate equable man who would possibly bring the different parties into concord and harmony. The Plassans electors, who had grown a little alarmed since they had felt the imperial bridle about their necks, would have been only too glad to come to an understanding, and choose one of their fellow-citizens who would be acceptable to all parties.

‘The government is wrong to treat us like refractory children,’ said the politicians of the Commercial Club, in tones of annoyance. ‘Anybody would suppose that the town was a hot-bed of revolution. If the authorities had been tactful enough to bring forward the right sort of candidate, we should all have voted for him. The sub-prefect has talked about a lesson. Well, we shan’t receive the lesson. We shall be able to find a candidate for ourselves, and we will show that Plassans is a town of sound sense and true liberty.’

They then began to look about for a candidate. But the names which were proposed by friends or interested parties only served to increase the confusion. In a week’s time there were twenty candidates before Plassans. Madame Rougon, who had become very uneasy, and quite unable to understand the position, went to see Abbé Faujas, full of indignation with the sub-prefect. That Péqueur was an ass, she cried, a fop, a dummy, of no use except as a pretty ornament to the official drawing-room. He had already allowed the govern­ment to be defeated, and now he was going to compromise it by an attitude of ridiculous indifference.

‘Make yourself easy,’ said the priest, with a smile; ‘this time Monsieur Péqueur des Saulaies is confining himself to obeying orders. Victory is certain.’

‘But you’ve got no candidate!’ cried Madame Rougon, ‘Where is your candidate?’

Then the priest unfolded his plans to her. She ex­pressed her approval of them; but she received the name which he confided to her with the greatest surprise.

‘What!’ she exclaimed,’ you have chosen him! No one has ever thought of him, I assure you.’

‘I trust that they haven’t,’ replied the priest, again smiling. ‘We want a candidate of whom nobody has ever thought, so that all parties may accept him without fancying that they are compromising themselves.’

Then with the perfect frankness of a shrewd man who has made up his mind to explain his designs, he continued:

‘I have very much to thank you for. You have prevented me from making many mistakes. I was looking straight towards the goal, and I did not see the strings that were stretched across the path, and which might, perhaps, have tripped me up and brought me to grief. Thank heaven! all this petty childish struggle is over, and I shall soon be able to move at my ease. As for the choice I have made, it is a good one; you may feel quite assured of that. Ever since my arrival at Plassans, I have been looking about for a man, and he is the only one I have found. He is flexible, very capable, and very energetic. He has been clever enough not to em­broil himself with a single person in the place, which is no common accomplishment. I know that you are not a very great friend of his, and that is the reason that I did not con­fide my plan to you sooner. But you will see that you are mistaken, and that he will make his way rapidly as soon as he gets his foot into the stirrup. What finally determined me in his favour is what I heard about his means. It is said that he has taken his wife back again three separate times, after she had been detected in actual unfaithfulness, and after he had made his good-natured father-in-law pay him a hun­dred thousand francs on each occasion. If he has really coined money in that way, he will be very useful in Paris in certain matters. You may look about as much as you like; but, putting him aside, there is only a pack of imbeciles in Plassans.’

‘Then it is a present you are making to the government?’ said Félicité, with a laugh.

She allowed herself to be convinced. The next day the name of Delangre was in everybody’s mouth. His friends declared that it was only after the strongest pressure had been brought to bear upon him that he had accepted the nomination. He had refused it for a long time, considering himself unworthy of the position, insisting that he was not a politician, and that the Marquis de Lagrifoul and Monsieur de Bourdeu had, on the other hand, had long experience of public affairs. Then, when it had been impressed upon him that what Plassans urgently needed was a representative who was unconnected with the political parties, he had allowed him­self to be prevailed upon. He explicitly declared the prin­ciples upon which he should act if he were returned. It must be thoroughly understood, he said, that he would not go to the Chamber either to oppose or support the government under all circumstances; he should look upon himself solely as the representative of the interests of the town; he would always vote for liberty with order, and order with liberty, and would still remain mayor of Plassans, so that he might show what a conciliatory and purely administrative task he had charged himself with. These views struck people as being singularly sensible. The knowing politicians of the Com­mercial Club vied with each other that same evening in lauding Delangre.

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