Complete Works of Emile Zola (446 page)

‘Yes,’ she answered, with a laugh; ‘yes, I’m going to the council, too.’ Then, when she had arranged the flounces of her long gown of pale cherry-coloured silk, she added, more seriously: ‘I have an appointment with the Empress. I am treasurer of a society for assisting young work-girls in which she is interested.’

In their turn the two men took their places. Delestang sat down by his wife’s side. He had with him a brown morocco portfolio, which he kept upon his knees. Rougon sat opposite Clorinde, and carried nothing. It was nearly half-past nine, and the council was fixed for ten, so the coachman was ordered to drive as quickly as he could. To make a short cut, therefore, he went along the Rue Marbeuf, and thence through the Chaillot district, which the demolishers were already ripping up. There were deserted streets fringed with gardens and wooden shanties, steep winding passages and little neglected squares, planted with sickly-looking trees. It was a strange patch of the great city, a medley of villas and cabins, basking on a hill-side in the bright morning sunshine.

‘How hideous it is here!’ said Clorinde, lying back in the landau.

Then, half-turning, she glanced at her husband, at first gravely, but afterwards, as though she could not help it, she began to smile. Delestang, with his frock-coat buttoned round him, was sitting primly erect. His handsome, thought­ful face, and premature baldness, which gave an appearance of great height to his brow, attracted the attention of the passers-by. Clorinde noticed that no one looked at Rougon, whose heavy face seemed to be asleep. Presently, in a sort of maternal manner, she pulled her husband’s left wristband forward a little, as it had slipped back inside his sleeve.

‘What were you doing last night?’ she then asked of the great man, as she saw him yawning behind his fingers.

‘I was working very late,’ he said. ‘There were a lot of tiresome things to see to.’

There was another pause, and Clorinde began to study Rougon. He yielded unresistingly to the slight jolting of the carriage. His frock-coat was strained out of shape by his broad shoulders, and his hat was badly brushed, and bore marks of old rain stains. He reminded Clorinde of a jobber from whom she had bought a horse a month previously, and a smile, with which was mingled a touch of contempt, appeared upon her lips.

‘Well?’ said Rougon, at last, feeling somewhat annoyed by Clorinde’s prolonged scrutiny.

‘Well,’ she replied, ‘I’m looking at you. It isn’t forbidden to do so, is it? You’re not afraid that I shall eat you, are you?’

She spoke these last words with a provoking air, showing her white teeth. Rougon, however, began to joke. ‘I’m too big for that,’ he said; ‘you wouldn’t be able to get me down.’

‘Oh, I don’t know that, if I were very hungry,’ she gravely answered, after apparently considering her appetite.

The landau was now reaching the Porte de la Muette. Here, on emerging from the narrow streets of the Chaillot district, the horizon suddenly spread out over the light verdure of the Bois de Boulogne. It was a lovely morning, and the distant turf was steeped in golden light, while the young leaves on the trees rustled gently in the warm air. They left the deer-park on their right, and took the gravelled avenue leading to Saint Cloud. The landau now rolled on without a jolt, as lightly and softly as a sledge gliding through the snow.

‘How nasty those streets were!’ said Clorinde, as she lolled back. ‘Well, we can breathe here, and talk. Have you any news of our friend Du Poizat?’

‘Yes, he’s very well,’ Rougon replied.

‘And does he still like his department?’

Rougon made a vague gesture, not wishing to give her any definite reply. She was aware, however, that the prefect of Deux-Sèvres was becoming a source of some trouble to him, on account of the severity of his administration. With­out pressing the point she next began to talk of M. Kahn, and Madame Correur, and finally, with a touch of mischievous curiosity, she asked Rougon about his visit to Niort. Then she broke off to say: ‘By the way, I met Colonel Jobelin and his cousin Monsieur Bouchard yesterday. We talked about you. Yes, we talked about you.’

Rougon still kept silent, with his shoulders bowed. To rouse him, Clorinde began to speak of the past. ‘Do you remember our pleasant little evenings in the Rue Marbeuf?’ she inquired. ‘Now you are so busy that we can’t get near you. Your friends complain about it. They say that you are forgetting them. I’m always quite frank, you know, and conceal nothing. Well, to tell the truth, they say that you are deserting them, my dear fellow.’

At this moment, the carriage, which had just passed between the two lakes, encountered a brougham on its way back to Paris, and through the window of the latter vehicle a glimpse was caught of a sulky-looking face, which hastily withdrew, as if to avoid the necessity of bowing.

‘Why, it’s your brother-in-law!’ exclaimed Clorinde.

‘Yes, he’s not very well,’ replied Rougon, with a smile. ‘His doctor has ordered him to take morning drives.’

Then he suddenly threw off his reserve, and began to talk freely, while the landau sped along beneath the tall trees of the gently curving avenue.

‘What would you have?’ said he. ‘I can’t give them the moon, however much they may cry for it! Take Beulin-d’Orchère, for instance, his dream is to be Minister of Justice. I have tried to effect the impossible, and have sounded the Emperor on the subject; but I can’t get any answer. I fancy, however, that the Emperor feels afraid of him. Well, that isn’t my fault, is it? Beulin-d’Orchère is first President of the Appeal Court. That really ought to satisfy him for the present. And yet, you see, he actually avoids bowing to me. He’s a fool!’

Clorinde had lowered her eyes, and her fingers were play­ing with the tassel of her sun-shade. She now made no attempt to speak, but let Rougon talk on freely.

‘The others,’ said he, ‘are almost as unreasonable. If the colonel and Bouchard complain of me, they do wrong, for I have already done too much for them. I say that for all my friends. I’ve got a dozen millstones about my neck! Till they’ve got the very skin off my body they won’t be satisfied!’ He paused for a moment, and then resumed with a good-natured laugh: ‘Well, well, if they really needed something more, I would give it to them. When a man has once opened his hands it is impossible for him to shut them again. In spite of all the unkind things my friends say of me, I spend my time in asking favours of all sorts for them.’

Then he touched Clorinde’s knee to force her to look at him.

‘Well, now, about yourself!’ he continued. ‘I am going to talk to the Emperor this morning. Is there anything that I can ask for you?’

‘No, thank you,’ she answered drily. And as he still persisted in his offers, she grew a little vexed, and accused him of reproaching herself and her husband with the few services he had already rendered them. They would not trouble him in future, said she. ‘I manage my affairs myself now,’ she added. ‘I’m big enough to get on by myself, am I not?’

Meantime the carriage had emerged from the Bois. It was now passing through Boulogne amid the clatter of several heavy carts, which were jolting along the high street. Delestang had been silent ever since the start, keeping his hands upon his morocco portfolio, and apparently absorbed in momentous thoughts. However, he now bent forward and called to Rougon amidst the uproar: ‘Do you think that his Majesty will keep us to
déjeuner?’

Rougon made a gesture expressive of doubt. Then he exclaimed: ‘We do generally have
déjeuner
at the palace when the council is a long one.’

Delestang fell back into his corner, and once more appeared to be absorbed in a very serious reverie. Presently he bent forward again, to ask: ‘Will there be much business before the council this morning?’

‘Perhaps so,’ answered Rougon. ‘But one can never tell beforehand. Several of our colleagues, I fancy, are going to report on certain important matters. For my own part, at any rate, I intend to raise the question of that book about which I am in dispute with the Licensing Committee.’
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‘What book is that?’ asked Clorinde eagerly.

‘Oh! an idiotic publication; one of those volumes which are got up for circulation amongst the peasantry. It is called “Friend Jacques’s Evening Chats.” It is a mixture of socialism, witchcraft, and agriculture; and there’s even a chapter on the advantages of trades’ unions. Briefly, it is a very dangerous book!’

The young woman, whose curiosity did not seem quite satisfied, turned to her husband as if to question him.

‘You are over severe, Rougon,’ said Delestang. ‘I have looked at the book, and have found some good matter in it. The chapter on the advantages accruing from the association of labour is very good, I think. I shall be surprised if the Emperor condemns the ideas contained in it.’

Rougon was about to reply hotly, and opened his arms with a gesture of protest. But he suddenly restrained him­self, as though he did not want to discuss the matter further. And instead of speaking, he glanced at the country through which they were passing. The landau was now half-way across the bridge of Saint Cloud. Down below, the pale blue river was flowing sleepily, shimmering in the sunshine; the rows of trees along the banks being vigorously reflected in the water. Above and below steam climbed the sky, so whitened by the limpidity of springtide that scarcely a touch of blue could be seen.

When the carriage stopped in the courtyard of the château Rougon alighted first and offered his hand to Clorinde. But the young woman would not avail herself of his proffered support; she sprang lightly to the ground, and as he re­mained there still holding out his arm for her acceptance, she gently tapped his fingers with her parasol, saying: ‘Didn’t I tell you that I was big enough to manage by myself, now?’

She seemed to have lost all her old respect for her master’s huge hands which she had so often held with disciple-like submission so as to drain away a little of their strength. Doubtless she now fancied that she had weakened him suffi­ciently, for she no longer displayed as of yore any adorable cajolery. She, in her turn, had acquired influence, and was becoming a power. When Delestang had got out of the carriage, she allowed Rougon to go on before them, and whis­pered in her husband’s ear: ‘I hope you won’t try to prevent him from getting into a tangle with his “Friend Jacques.” It will give you a good opportunity of not always appearing to say the very same as he does.’

In the entrance-hall, before leaving Delestang, Clorinde gave him a careful glance, and was worried to see one of the buttons of his coat hanging a little loosely. Then, while an usher went to inform the Empress of her arrival, she smilingly watched Rougon and her husband take themselves off.

The ministerial council was held in a room near the Emperor’s private study. In the centre stood a large cloth-covered table surrounded by a dozen arm-chairs. The high windows admitted a bright light from the terrace of the château. When Rougon and Delestang entered the room, they found all their colleagues already assembled there, with the exception of the Minister for Public Works and the Naval and Colonial Minister, who were on leave of absence. The Emperor had not yet made his appearance, and for ten minutes or so the ministers chatted together, standing by the windows and about the table. Two of them had scowling faces, and so cordially detested each other that they never exchanged a word, but all the rest were talking amicably and easily, till serious matters should demand their atten­tion. Paris was just then much interested in an embassy from the extreme east, the members of which wore fantastic costumes, and indulged in the most extraordinary modes of salutation. The Minister for Foreign Affairs related a visit which he had paid to the chief of this embassy on the pre­vious evening; and while speaking with due regard for his position as head of the diplomatic service, he contrived to indulge in some light sarcasm at the envoy’s expense. Then the conversation turned upon more frivolous matters, and the Minister of State
1
furnished some particulars respecting the condition of a ballet girl of the opera-house who had narrowly escaped breaking her leg. However, amidst all this apparent unrestraint the ministers remained alert and distrustful of one another, wording certain of their sentences with extreme care, recalling at times half-uttered words, keeping a watchful look-out even as they smiled, and suddenly becoming serious as soon as they noticed that they were being observed.

‘Then it was a mere sprain?’ said Delestang, who took a great interest in the ladies of the ballet.

‘Yes, a sprain,’ replied the Minister of State. ‘The poor girl will simply have to keep her room for a fortnight. However, she feels very much ashamed of herself for having fallen.’

A slight stir now caused the ministers to turn, and they all bowed. The Emperor had just entered the room. He stood for a moment leaning upon the back of his arm-chair. Then, in his low deliberate voice, he asked: ‘Is she better?’

‘Much better, sire,’ replied the minister, bowing again. ‘I heard about her this morning.’

At a sign from the Emperor, the members of the council took their seats round the table. There were nine of them. Some of them spread out papers, while the others sat back in their chairs and began to examine their nails. There was silence for a while. The Emperor seemed unwell; and with lifeless face he slowly twisted the waxed ends of his long moustache. Then, as no one spoke, he appeared to recollect something and remarked: ‘Gentlemen, the session of the Corps Législatif is about to end — ‘

The budget, which the Chamber had just voted in five days, was the first subject which engaged the attention of the council. The Minister of Finance mentioned the desires which the reporter of the Chamber had expressed. For the first time, indeed, the Chamber had indulged in criticism, and its reporter had asked that the sinking fund regulations might be properly carried out, and that the government would in future content itself with the supplies as voted, without con­stantly applying for supplementary credits. Moreover, some members of the Chamber had complained of the little weight which was attached to their observations by the Council of State, and one of them had even gone so far as to claim for the Corps Législatif the right to prepare the budget.