Complete Works of Emile Zola (442 page)

However, the deputy was now engaged in demonstrating the necessity of having a new church at Niort; the mayor’s assessor asked for a bridge; and the head-master urged the desirability of extending the college buildings, while the six members of the Statistical Society silently nodded approval of everything.

‘Well, we will see about these matters to-morrow, gentle­men,’ said Rougon, whose eyelids were half-closed. ‘I am here for the purpose of inquiring into your needs and doing what I can to satisfy them.’

Ten o’clock was just striking when a servant came into the room and said something to the prefect, who at once whispered a few words in the minister’s ear. The latter then hastened out of the drawing room. He found Madame Correur waiting for him in an adjoining apartment. She was accompanied by a tall, slim girl with a colourless freckled face.

‘So you are in Niort, are you?’ Rougon exclaimed as he joined them.

‘Only since this afternoon,’ replied Madame Correur. ‘We are staying just opposite, on the Place de la Préfecture, at the Hôtel de Paris.’

And then she explained that she had come from Coulonges, where she had been spending a couple of days. But suddenly she paused to direct the minister’s attention to the tall girl beside her. ‘This,’ said she, ‘is Mademoiselle Herminie Billecoq, who has been kind enough to accompany me.’

Herminie Billecoq made a ceremonious bow, and Madame Correur proceeded: ‘I didn’t say anything to you about this expedition of mine, because I thought you might oppose it; but I really couldn’t help going. I was very anxious to see my brother. When I heard of your coming to Niort, I hastened here. We looked out for you and saw you enter the prefecture, but we thought it better to defer our visit till later on. These little towns are much given to malicious scandal!’

Rougon nodded assent. He was indeed thinking that plump Madame Correur with her painted face and bright yellow dress might, to provincial eyes, very well appear to be a compromising person.

‘Well, and did you see your brother?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ Madame Correur replied, clenching her teeth; ‘yes, I saw him. Madame Martineau didn’t venture to turn me out of the house. She was burning some sugar over the fire when I went in. Oh, my poor brother! I knew that he was ill, but it gave me quite a shock to see him so emaciated. He has promised that he won’t disinherit me; it would be con­trary to his principles. He has made his will; and his property will be divided between me and Madame Martineau. Isn’t that so, Herminie?’

‘Yes, the property is to be divided,’ declared the tall girl. ‘He told you so when you first got there, and repeated it when he saw you away from the door. Oh! there’s no doubt about it; I heard him say so.’

Then Rougon tried to get rid of the two women by saying: ‘Well, I’m delighted to hear it. You will feel much easier now. These family quarrels always get made up. Come, good­night; I’m going to bed now.’

But Madame Correur detained him. She had taken her handkerchief out of her pocket and was dabbing her eyes with it, seemingly affected with sudden grief. ‘Oh, my poor Martineau!’ said she, ‘he was so kind and good, and forgave me with such readiness! I wish you knew how good he is, my dear friend. It is on his account that I have hurried here, to petition you in his favour — ‘

Her tears prevented her from saying more, and she began to sob. Rougon was at a loss to know what it meant, and looked at the two women in astonishment. Then Made­moiselle Herminie Billecoq also began to cry, but less demon­stratively than Madame Correur. She was a very sensitive young person, and was readily affected by another’s grief.

‘Monsieur Martineau has compromised himself in politics,’ she stammered amidst her tears.

Thereupon Madame Correur began to speak with great volubility. ‘You will remember,’ she said, ‘that I hinted my fears to you one day. I had a presentiment of what would happen. Martineau was showing Republican proclivities. At the last election he behaved very wildly, and made the most desperate exertions in favour of the opposition candidate. I was aware of things which I don’t want to mention. How­ever, it was all bound to have a bad result. When I got to the Golden Lion at Coulonges, where we had engaged a room, I questioned the people there, and I learnt a good deal more from them. Martineau has been guilty of all kinds of follies. No one in the neighbourhood would be surprised if he were to be arrested. Every day they expect to see the gendarmes come and take him off. You can imagine what a shock this was to me! And so I thought of you, my dear friend — ‘

Her utterance was again choked by her sobs. Then Rougon tried to reassure her. He would mention the subject to Du Poizat, he said, and he would stop any proceedings that might have been instituted. ‘I am the master,’ he even added; ‘come, go to bed and sleep quietly.’

But Madame Correur shook her head and twisted her pocket-handkerchief. Her eyes were quite dry now. ‘Ah! you don’t know everything,’ she said. ‘It is a more serious matter than you suppose. He takes Madame Martineau to mass, but stays outside himself and proclaims that he never sets foot in a church; and this causes a dreadful scandal every Sunday. Then, too, he frequents a retired lawyer in the neighbourhood, one of the men of ‘48, and can be heard talking to him for hours in the most dreadful way. Suspicious-looking men, too, have often been seen to slip into his garden at night-time, with the intention, no doubt, of receiving directions from him.’

Rougon shrugged his shoulders at each fresh detail, but Mademoiselle Herminie Billecoq, as though shocked by such tolerance, added sharply: ‘And he receives letters with red seals from all sorts of countries. The postman told us that. He didn’t want to speak about it at first, he was quite pale. We had to give him twenty sous. And then, a month ago, Monsieur Martineau left home for a week, without anyone in the neighbourhood having the slightest idea where he went. The landlady of the Golden Lion told us that he hadn’t even taken any luggage with him.’

‘Herminie, I beg of you to be quiet!’ said Madame Correur uneasily. ‘Martineau has got quite sufficient against him as it is. There is no occasion for us to add any more.’

Rougon was now listening and glancing at the two women in turn. He had become very serious. ‘Well, if he has compromised himself so much as that — ‘ he began, pausing, however, as he fancied that he could detect a fiery gleam igniting in Madame Correur’s troubled eyes. ‘Well, I will do all I can,’ he resumed; ‘but I make no promises.’

‘It is all up with him; it is all up with him!’ exclaimed Madame Correur. ‘I feel quite certain of it. We don’t want to say anything; but if we told all — ‘ Then in her turn she paused and began to bite her pocket handkerchief. ‘And to think that I hadn’t seen him for twenty years, and have only now just seen him to be parted from him for ever, per­haps! He was so kind, so very kind!’

Herminie, however, gently shrugged her shoulders and made signs to Rougon, as if to tell him that he must excuse a sister’s despair, but that the old attorney was really a great rascal. ‘If I were you,’ she said to Madame Correur, ‘I would tell everything. It will be much the best.’

Then the elder woman seemed to brace herself up for a great effort. ‘You remember,’ she said, lowering her voice, ‘the “Te Deums,” which were sung everywhere, when the Em­peror so miraculously escaped being murdered in front of the Opera-house? Well, on the very day when they were singing the “Te Deum” at Coulonges, one of Martineau’s neighbours asked him if he wasn’t going to church, and the wretched man replied, “Why should I go to church, indeed? I don’t care a fig for your Emperor!”‘

‘I don’t care a fig for your Emperor!’ repeated Made­moiselle Herminie Billecoq, with an air of consternation.

‘You can understand my alarm now,’ continued the retired boarding-house keeper. ‘As I told you before, no one in the neighbourhood would be the least surprised to see him arrested.’

As she spoke these last words, she fixed her eyes search­ingly on Rougon. He made no immediate reply. He seemed to be trying to read her flabby face, her pale eyes, which blinked beneath light and scanty brows. For a moment his gaze rested on her plump white neck. Then he threw out his arms and said: ‘I can do nothing, I assure you. I am not the master.’

And he gave his reasons. He felt certain scruples, he said, about interfering in affairs of this kind. If the law had been invoked, matters would have to take their course. It would even have been better if he had not known Madame Correur, as his friendship for her would tie his hands, for he had sworn never to render certain services to his friends. However, he would inquire into the matter. And he tried to console her, as though her brother were already on his way to some penal settlement. She bent her head, and her sobs shook the big coil of light hair which lay on the nape of her neck. Presently she grew calmer, and as she took leave, she pushed Herminie in front of her, exclaiming: ‘Made­moiselle Herminie Billecoq; but I fancy I have already introduced her to you. Please excuse me, my head is in such a state. She is the young lady for whom we succeeded in obtaining a dowry. The officer who seduced her has not yet been able to marry her on account of the interminable for­malities which have to be gone through. Thank his excel­lency, my dear.’

The tall girl expressed her thanks, blushing, as she did so, like an innocent maiden in whose presence some indelicate remark has been made. Madame Correur let her leave the room before her; then she pressed Rougon’s hand tightly, and, bending towards him, said: ‘I rely upon you, Eugène!’

When the minister returned to the little drawing-room, he found it deserted. Du Poizat had succeeded in getting rid of the deputy, the mayor’s assessor and the six members of the Statistical Society. M. Kahn had also taken his departure, after making an appointment for ten o’clock the next morning. In the dining-room there only remained the head-master’s wife and Gilquin, who were eating little cakes, and chatting about Paris. Gilquin made soft eyes at the lady and talked to her about the races, the picture-shows, and a new piece at the Comédie Française, with the ease of a man to whom all kinds of life were familiar. The head-master, in the meantime, was speaking in a low tone to the prefect about the fourth form professor, who was suspected of Republican proclivities.

However, eleven o’clock struck. The remaining visitors rose and bowed to his excellency, and Gilquin was just about to retire with the head-master and his wife, to the latter of whom he had offered his arm, when Rougon detained him.

‘Monsieur le Commissaire,’ he said, ‘a word with you, I beg.’

When they were alone together, he addressed himself to the commissary and prefect simultaneously: ‘What is this business of Martineau’s?’ he asked. ‘Has the man really compromised himself?’

Gilquin smiled, and Du Poizat proceeded to give a few particulars: ‘I wasn’t thinking of taking any steps in the affair,’ he said. ‘The man has certainly been denounced to me, and I have received letters about him. There is no doubt that he mixes himself up in politics. But there have already been four arrests in the department, and I should have pre­ferred making up my five, which was the number you fixed, by locking up the master of the fourth form at the college here who reads revolutionary books to his pupils.’

‘I have been told of some very serious things,’ said Rougon sternly. ‘His sister’s tears must not be allowed to save this man Martineau, if he is really as dangerous as is alleged. The public safety is at stake.’ Then he turned towards Gilquin. ‘What is your opinion on the matter?’ he asked.

‘I will arrest him in the morning,’ the commissary replied. ‘I know all about the matter. I have seen Madame Correur at the Hôtel de Paris, where I generally dine.’

Du Poizat made no objection. He took a little memo­randum-book from his pocket, struck out a name, and wrote another in its place, at the same time recommending the com­missary of police to keep his eye upon the master of the fourth form. Rougon accompanied Gilquin to the door. ‘This man Martineau is not very well, I believe,’ he said. ‘Go to Coulonges yourself, and treat him decently.’

Gilquin pulled himself up with an offended air, and setting aside all respect for his excellency, familiarly exclaimed: ‘Do you take me for a mere common policeman? Ask Du Poizat to tell you about the druggist whom I arrested on the day before yesterday. There was a lady with him, but nobody knows it. I always act with the greatest discretion.’

Rougon slept soundly for nine hours. When he opened his eyes the next morning, at about half-past eight, he sent a message for Du Poizat to come to him. The prefect arrived with a cigar in his mouth, and seemed in high-spirits. They talked and joked together as they had done in former days, when they had lodged at Madame Correur’s, and had roused each other with playful slaps. However, while the minister was washing, he questioned the prefect about the neigh­bourhood, asking for particulars of the different officials and their various desires and vanities. He wanted to have a pleasant remark ready for each of them.

‘Oh, don’t worry yourself,’ replied Du Poizat, with a laugh; ‘I will prompt you.’

Then he gave him some information about the different people with whom he would come into contact. Rougon occasionally made him repeat what he said in order to impress it upon his memory. At ten o’clock, M. Kahn made his appearance. They all three had
déjeuner
together, and finally arranged the details of the ceremony. The prefect would make a speech, as would also M. Kahn. Rougon would follow the latter; but they considered that a fourth speech would be desirable. For a moment they thought of the mayor, but Du Poizat declared that he was a stupid fel­low, and advised the selection of the chief surveyor of bridges and highways, to whom the proceedings of the day naturally seemed to point, though M. Kahn was afraid of this official’s spirit of criticism. As they got up from table, M. Kahn took the minister aside to tell him of the points which he hoped he would bring forward in his speech.

It had been arranged that the party should meet at the prefecture at half-past ten. The mayor and his assessor arrived together. The former stammered forth his unbounded regret that he had been absent from Niort on the previous evening, while the latter affectedly hoped that his excellency had slept well, and had quite recovered from his fatigue. Then the President of the Civil Tribunal, the public prosecutor and his two assessors, and the chief surveyor of bridges and highways made their appearance. They were quickly followed by the receiver-general, the comptroller of the direct taxes, and the registrar of the department. Several of these officials were accompanied by their wives. The wife of the head-master of the college, the beautiful blonde, wore a most effective sky-blue dress, and attracted great attention. She begged his excellency to excuse her husband, who had been prevented from coming by an attack of gout, which had seized him soon after his return home on the previous evening. However, other personages were arriving; the colonel of the seventy-eighth regiment of the Line, which was stationed at Niort; the President of the Tribunal of Commerce, the two justices of the peace, the conservator of rivers and forests, accom­panied by his three daughters, with various municipal coun­cillors and delegates from the consultative Chamber of Arts and Manufactures, the Statistical Society, and the Council of the Board of Arbitration between employers and employed.