“I am quite sure you will think of me to-morrow,” he said, alluding to the appointment.
“There are so few high functionaries who have agreeable wives,” remarked his Excellency on re-entering the room, “that I am very well satisfied with our new acquisition.”
“Don’t you think her a little overpowering?” said des Lupeaulx with a piqued air.
The women present all exchanged expressive glances; the rivalry between the minister and his secretary amused them and instigated one of those pretty little comedies which Parisian women play so well. They excited and led on his Excellency and des Lupeaulx by a series of comments on Madame Rabourdin: one thought her too studied in manner, too eager to appear clever; another compared the graces of the middle classes with the manners of high life, while des Lupeaulx defended his pretended mistress as we all defend an enemy in society.
“Do her justice, ladies,” he said; “is it not extraordinary that the daughter of an auctioneer should appear as well as she does? See where she came from, and what she is. She will end in the Tuileries; that is what she intends, – she told me so.”
“Suppose she is the daughter of an auctioneer,” said the Comtesse Feraud, smiling, “that will not hinder her husband’s rise to power.”
“Not in these days, you mean,” said the minister’s wife, tightening her lips.
“Madame,” said his Excellency to the countess, sternly, “such sentiments and such speeches lead to revolutions; unhappily, the court and the great world do not restrain them. You would hardly believe, however, how the injudicious conduct of the aristocracy in this respect displeases certain clear-sighted personages at the palace. If I were a great lord, instead of being, as I am, a mere country gentleman who seems to be placed where he is to transact your business for you, the monarchy would not be as insecure as I now think it is. What becomes of a throne which does not bestow dignity on those who administer its government? We are far indeed from the days when a king could make men great at will, – such men as Louvois, Colbert, Richelieu, Jeannin, Villeroy, Sully, – Sully, in his origin, was no greater than I. I speak to you thus because we are here in private among ourselves. I should be very paltry indeed if I were personally offended by such speeches. After all, it is for us and not for others to make us great.”
“You are appointed, dear,” cried Celestine, pressing her husband’s hand as they drove away. “If it had not been for des Lupeaulx I should have explained your scheme to his Excellency. But I will do it next Tuesday, and it will help the further matter of making you Master of petitions.”
In the life of every woman there comes a day when she shines in all her glory; a day which gives her an unfading recollection to which she recurs with happiness all her life. As Madame Rabourdin took off one by one the ornaments of her apparel, she thought over the events of this evening, and marked the day among the triumphs and glories of her life, – all her beauties had been seen and envied, she had been praised and flattered by the minister’s wife, delighted thus to make the other women jealous of her; but, above all, her grace and vanities had shone to the profit of conjugal love. Her husband was appointed.
“Did you think I looked well to-night?” she said to him, joyously.
At the same instant Mitral, waiting at the Cafe Themis, saw the two usurers returning, but was unable to perceive the slightest indications of the result on their impassible faces.
“What of it?” he said, when they were all seated at table.
“Same as ever,” replied Gigonnet, rubbing his hands, “victory with gold.”
“True,” said Gobseck.
Mitral took a cabriolet and went straight to the Saillards and Baudoyers, who were still playing boston at a late hour. No one was present but the Abbe Gaudron. Falleix, half-dead with the fatigue of his journey, had gone to bed.
“You will be appointed, nephew,” said Mitral; “and there’s a surprise in store for you.”
“What is it?” asked Saillard.
“The cross of the Legion of honor?” cried Mitral.
“God protects those who guard his altars,” said Gaudron.
Thus the Te Deum was sung with equal joy and confidence in both camps.
CHAPTER VIII. FORWARD, MOLLUSKS!
The next day, Wednesday, Monsieur Rabourdin was to transact business with the minister, for he had filled the late La Billardiere’s place since the beginning of the latter’s illness. On such days the clerks came punctually, the servants were specially attentive, there was always a certain excitement in the offices on these signing-days, – and why, nobody ever knew. On this occasion the three servants were at their post, flattering themselves they should get a few fees; for a rumor of Rabourdin’s nomination had spread through the ministry the night before, thanks to Dutocq. Uncle Antoine and Laurent had donned their full uniform, when, at a quarter to eight, des Lupeaulx’s servant came in with a letter, which he begged Antoine to give secretly to Dutocq, saying that the general-secretary had ordered him to deliver it without fail at Monsieur Dutocq’s house by seven o’clock.
“I’m sure I don’t know how it happened,” he said, “but I overslept myself. I’ve only just waked up, and he’d play the devil’s tattoo on me if he knew the letter hadn’t gone. I know a famous secret, Antoine; but don’t say anything about it to the clerks if I tell you; promise? He would send me off if he knew I had said a single word; he told me so.”
“What’s inside the letter?” asked Antoine, eying it.
“Nothing; I looked this way – see.”
He made the letter gape open, and showed Antoine that there was nothing but blank paper to be seen.
“This is going to be a great day for you, Laurent,” went on the secretary’s man. “You are to have a new director. Economy must be the order of the day, for they are going to unite the two divisions under one director – you fellows will have to look out!”
“Yes, nine clerks are put on the retired list,” said Dutocq, who came in at the moment; “how did you hear that?”
Antoine gave him the letter, and he had no sooner opened it than he rushed headlong downstairs in the direction of the secretary’s office.
The bureaus Rabourdin and Baudoyer, after idling and gossiping since the death of Monsieur de la Billardiere, were now recovering their usual official look and the dolce far niente habits of a government office. Nevertheless, the approaching end of the year did cause rather more application among the clerks, just as porters and servants become at that season more unctuously civil. They all came punctually, for one thing; more remained after four o’clock than was usual at other times. It was not forgotten that fees and gratuities depend on the last impressions made upon the minds of masters. The news of the union of the two divisions, that of La Billardiere and that of Clergeot, under one director, had spread through the various offices. The number of the clerks to be retired was known, but all were in ignorance of the names. It was taken for granted that Poiret would not be replaced, and that would be a retrenchment. Little La Billardiere had already departed. Two new supernumeraries had made their appearance, and, alarming circumstance! they were both sons of deputies. The news told about in the offices the night before, just as the clerks were dispersing, agitated all minds, and for the first half-hour after arrival in the morning they stood around the stoves and talked it over. But earlier than that, Dutocq, as we have seen, had rushed to des Lupeaulx on receiving his note, and found him dressing. Without laying down his razor, the general-secretary cast upon his subordinate the glance of a general issuing an order.
“Are we alone?” he asked.
“Yes, monsieur.”
“Very good. March on Rabourdin; forward! steady! Of course you kept a copy of that paper?”
“Yes.”
“You understand me? Inde iroe! There must be a general hue and cry raised against him. Find some way to start a clamor – ”
“I could get a man to make a caricature, but I haven’t five hundred francs to pay for it.”
“Who would make it?”
“Bixou.”
“He shall have a thousand and be under-head-clerk to Colleville, who will arrange with them; tell him so.”
“But he wouldn’t believe it on nothing more than my word.”
“Are you trying to make me compromise myself? Either do the thing or let it alone; do you hear me?”
“If Monsieur Baudoyer were director – ”
“Well, he will be. Go now, and make haste; you have no time to lose. Go down the back-stairs; I don’t want people to know you have just seen me.”
While Dutocq was returning to the clerks’ office and asking himself how he could best incite a clamor against his chief without compromising himself, Bixiou rushed to the Rabourdin office for a word of greeting. Believing that he had lost his bet the incorrigible joker thought it amusing to pretend that he had won it.
Bixiou [mimicking Phellion’s voice]. “Gentlemen, I salute you with a collective how d’ye do, and I appoint Sunday next for the dinner at the Rocher de Cancale. But a serious question presents itself. Is that dinner to include the clerks who are dismissed?”
Poiret. “And those who retire?”
Bixiou. “Not that I care, for it isn’t I who pay.” [General stupefaction.] “Baudoyer is appointed. I think I already hear him calling Laurent” [mimicking Baudoyer], “Laurent! lock up my hair-shirt, and my scourge.” [They all roar with laughter.] “Yes, yes, he laughs well who laughs last. Gentlemen, there’s a great deal in that anagram of Colleville’s. ‘Xavier Rabourdin, chef de bureau – D’abord reva bureaux, e-u fin riche.’ If I were named ‘Charles X., par la grace de Dieu roi de France et de Navarre,’ I should tremble in my shoes at the fate those letters anagrammatize.”
Thuillier. “Look here! are you making fun?”
Bixiou. “No, I am not. Rabourdin resigns in a rage at finding Baudoyer appointed director.”
Vimeux [entering.] “Nonsense, no such thing! Antoine (to whom I have just been paying forty francs that I owed him) tells me that Monsieur and Madame Rabourdin were at the minister’s private party last night and stayed till midnight. His Excellency escorted Madame Rabourdin to the staircase. It seems she was divinely dressed. In short, it is quite certain that Rabourdin is to be director. Riffe, the secretary’s copying clerk, told me he sat up all the night before to draw the papers; it is no longer a secret. Monsieur Clergeot is retired. After thirty years’ service that’s no misfortune. Monsieur Cochlin, who is rich – ”
Bixiou. “By cochineal.”
Vimeux. “Yes, cochineal; he’s a partner in the house of Matifat, rue des Lombards. Well, he is retired; so is Poiret. Neither is to be replaced. So much is certain; the rest is all conjecture. The appointment of Monsieur Rabourdin is to be announced this morning; they are afraid of intrigues.”
Bixiou. “What intrigues?”
Fleury. “Baudoyer’s, confound him! The priests uphold him; here’s another article in the liberal journal, – only half a dozen lines, but they are queer” [reads]:
“Certain persons spoke last night in the lobby of the Opera-house of the return of Monsieur de Chateaubriand to the ministry, basing their opinion on the choice made of Monsieur Rabourdin (the protege of friends of the noble viscount) to fill the office for which Monsieur Baudoyer was first selected. The clerical party is not likely to withdraw unless in deference to the great writer.
“Blackguards!”
Dutocq [entering, having heard the whole discussion]. “Blackguards! Who? Rabourdin? Then you know the news?”
Fleury [rolling his eyes savagely]. “Rabourdin a blackguard! Are you mad, Dutocq? do you want a ball in your brains to give them weight?”
Dutocq. “I said nothing against Monsieur Rabourdin; only it has just been told to me in confidence that he has written a paper denouncing all the clerks and officials, and full of facts about their lives; in short, the reason why his friends support him is because he has written this paper against the administration, in which we are all exposed – ”
Phellion [in a loud voice]. “Monsieur Rabourdin is incapable of – ”
Bixiou. “Very proper in you to say so. Tell me, Dutocq” [they whisper together and then go into the corridor].
Bixiou. “What has happened?”
Dutocq. “Do you remember what I said to you about that caricature?”
Bixiou. “Yes, what then?”
Dutocq. “Make it, and you shall be under-head-clerk with a famous fee. The fact is, my dear fellow, there’s dissension among the powers that be. The minister is pledged to Rabourdin, but if he doesn’t appoint Baudoyer he offends the priests and their party. You see, the King, the Dauphin and the Dauphine, the clergy, and lastly the court, all want Baudoyer; the minister wants Rabourdin.”
Bixiou. “Good!”
Dutocq. “To ease the matter off, the minister, who sees he must give way, wants to strangle the difficulty. We must find some good reason for getting rid of Rabourdin. Now somebody has lately unearthed a paper of his, exposing the present system of administration and wanting to reform it; and that paper is going the rounds, – at least, this is how I understand the matter. Make the drawing we talked of; in so doing you’ll play the game of all the big people, and help the minister, the court, the clergy, – in short, everybody; and you’ll get your appointment. Now do you understand me?”
Bixiou. “I don’t understand how you came to know all that; perhaps you are inventing it.”
Dutocq. “Do you want me to let you see what Rabourdin wrote about you?”
Bixiou. “Yes.”
Dutocq. “Then come home with me; for I must put the document into safe keeping.”
Bixiou. “You go first alone.” [Re-enters the bureau Rabourdin.] “What Dutocq told you is really all true, word of honor! It seems that Monsieur Rabourdin has written and sent in very unflattering descriptions of the clerks whom he wants to ‘reform.’ That’s the real reason why his secret friends wish him appointed. Well, well; we live in days when nothing astonishes me” [flings his cloak about him like Talma, and declaims]: —
“Thou who has seen the fall of grand, illustrious heads,
Why thus amazed, insensate that thou art, to find a man like Rabourdin employing such means? Baudoyer is too much of a fool to know how to use them. Accept my congratulations, gentlemen; either way you are under a most illustrious chief” [goes off].
Poiret. “I shall leave this ministry without ever comprehending a single word that gentleman utters. What does he mean with his ‘heads that fall’?”
Fleury. “‘Heads that fell?’ why, think of the four sergeants of Rochelle, Ney, Berton, Caron, the brothers Faucher, and the massacres.”
Phellion. “He asserts very flippantly things that he only guesses at.”
Fleury. “Say at once that he lies; in his mouth truth itself turns to corrosion.”
Phellion. “Your language is unparliamentary and lacks the courtesy and consideration which are due to a colleague.”
Vimeux. “It seems to me that if what he says is false, the proper name for it is calumny, defamation of character; and such a slanderer deserves the thrashing.”
Fleury [getting hot]. “If the government offices are public places, the matter ought to be taken into the police-courts.”
Phellion [wishing to avert a quarrel, tries to turn the conversation]. “Gentleman, might I ask you to keep quiet? I am writing a little treatise on moral philosophy, and I am just at the heart of it.”
Fleury [interrupting]. “What are you saying about it, Monsieur Phellion?”
Phellion [reading]. “Question. – What is the soul of man?
“Answer. – A spiritual substance which thinks and reasons.”
Thuillier. “Spiritual substance! you might as well talk about immaterial stone.”
Poiret. “Don’t interrupt; let him go on.”
Phellion [continuing]. “Quest. – Whence comes the soul?
“Ans. – From God, who created it of a nature one and indivisible; the destructibility thereof is, consequently, not conceivable, and he hath said – ”
Poiret [amazed]. “God said?”
Phellion. “Yes, monsieur; tradition authorizes the statement.”
Fleury [to Poiret]. “Come, don’t interrupt, yourself.”
Phellion [resuming]. “ – and he hath said that he created it immortal; in other words, the soul can never die.
“Quest. – What are the uses of the soul?
“Ans. – To comprehend, to will, to remember; these constitute understanding, volition, memory.
“Quest. – What are the uses of the understanding?
“Ans. – To know. It is the eye of the soul.”
Fleury. “And the soul is the eye of what?”
Phellion [continuing]. “Quest. – What ought the understanding to know?
“Ans. – Truth.
“Quest. – Why does man possess volition?
“Ans. – To love good and hate evil.
“Quest. – What is good?
“Ans. – That which makes us happy.”
Vimeux. “Heavens! do you teach that to young ladies?”
Phellion. “Yes” [continuing]. “Quest. – How many kinds of good are there?”
Fleury. “Amazingly indecorous, to say the least.”
Phellion [aggrieved]. “Oh, monsieur!” [Controlling himself.] “But here’s the answer, – that’s as far as I have got” [reads]: —
“Ans. – There are two kinds of good, – eternal good and temporal good.”
Poiret [with a look of contempt]. “And does that sell for anything?”
Phellion. “I hope it will. It requires great application of mind to carry on a system of questions and answers; that is why I ask you to be quiet and let me think, for the answers – ”
Thuillier [interrupting]. “The answers might be sold separately.”
Poiret. “Is that a pun?”
Thuillier. “No; a riddle.”
Phellion. “I am sorry I interrupted you” [he dives into his office desk]. “But” [to himself] “at any rate, I have stopped their talking about Monsieur Rabourdin.”
At this moment a scene was taking place between the minister and des Lupeaulx which decided Rabourdin’s fate. The general-secretary had gone to see the minister in his private study before the breakfast-hour, to make sure that La Briere was not within hearing.
“Your Excellency is not treating me frankly – ”
“He means a quarrel,” thought the minister; “and all because his mistress coquetted with me last night. I did not think you so juvenile, my dear friend,” he said aloud.
“Friend?” said the general-secretary, “that is what I want to find out.”
The minister looked haughtily at des Lupeaulx.
“We are alone,” continued the secretary, “and we can come to an understanding. The deputy of the arrondissement in which my estate is situated – ”
“So it is really an estate!” said the minister, laughing, to hide his surprise.
“Increased by a recent purchase of two hundred thousand francs’ worth of adjacent property,” replied des Lupeaulx, carelessly. “You knew of the deputy’s approaching resignation at least ten days ago, and you did not tell me of it. You were perhaps not bound to do so, but you knew very well that I am most anxious to take my seat in the centre. Has it occurred to you that I might fling myself back on the ‘Doctrine’? – which, let me tell you, will destroy the administration and the monarchy both if you continue to allow the party of representative government to be recruited from men of talent whom you ignore. Don’t you know that in every nation there are fifty to sixty, not more, dangerous heads, whose schemes are in proportion to their ambition? The secret of knowing how to govern is to know those heads well, and either to chop them off or buy them. I don’t know how much talent I have, but I know that I have ambition; and you are committing a serious blunder when you set aside a man who wishes you well. The anointed head dazzles for the time being, but what next? – Why, a war of words; discussions will spring up once more and grow embittered, envenomed. Then, for your own sake, I advise you not to find me at the Left Centre. In spite of your prefect’s manoeuvres (instructions for which no doubt went from here confidentially) I am secure of a majority. The time has come for you and me to understand each other. After a breeze like this people sometimes become closer friends than ever. I must be made count and receive the grand cordon of the Legion of honor as a reward for my public services. However, I care less for those things just now than I do for something else in which you are more personally concerned. You have not yet appointed Rabourdin, and I have news this morning which tends to show that most persons will be better satisfied if you appoint Baudoyer.”
“Appoint Baudoyer!” echoed the minister. “Do you know him?”
“Yes,” said des Lupeaulx; “but suppose he proves incapable, as he will, you can then get rid of him by asking those who protect him to employ him elsewhere. You will thus get back an important office to give to friends; it may come in at the right moment to facilitate some compromise.”
“But I have pledged it to Rabourdin.”
“That may be; and I don’t ask you to make the change this very day. I know the danger of saying yes and no within twenty-four hours. But postpone the appointment, and don’t sign the papers till the day after to-morrow; by that time you may find it impossible to retain Rabourdin, – in fact, in all probability, he will send you his resignation – ”
“His resignation?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He is the tool of a secret power in whose interests he has carried on a system of espionage in all the ministries, and the thing has been discovered by mere accident. He has written a paper of some kind, giving short histories of all the officials. Everybody is talking of it; the clerks are furious. For heaven’s sake, don’t transact business with him to-day; let me find some means for you to avoid it. Ask an audience of the King; I am sure you will find great satisfaction there if you concede the point about Baudoyer; and you can obtain something as an equivalent. Your position will be better than ever if you are forced later to dismiss a fool whom the court party impose upon you.”
“What has made you turn against Rabourdin?”
“Would you forgive Monsieur de Chateaubriand for writing an article against the ministry? Well, read that, and see how Rabourdin has treated me in his secret document,” said des Lupeaulx, giving the paper to the minister. “He pretends to reorganize the government from beginning to end, – no doubt in the interests of some secret society of which, as yet, we know nothing. I shall continue to be his friend for the sake of watching him; by that means I may render the government such signal service that they will have to make me count; for the peerage is the only thing I really care for. I want you fully to understand that I am not seeking office or anything else that would cause me to stand in your way; I am simply aiming for the peerage, which will enable me to marry a banker’s daughter with an income of a couple of hundred thousand francs. And so, allow me to render you a few signal services which will make the King feel that I have saved the throne. I have long said that Liberalism would never offer us a pitched battle. It has given up conspiracies, Carbonaroism, and revolts with weapons; it is now sapping and mining, and the day is coming when it will be able to say, ‘Out of that and let me in!’ Do you think I have been courting Rabourdin’s wife for my own pleasure? No, but I got much information from her. So now, let us agree on two things; first, the postponement of the appointment; second, your /sincere/ support of my election. You shall find at the end of the session that I have amply repaid you.”
For all answer, the minister took the appointment papers and placed them in des Lupeaulx’s hand.
“I will go and tell Rabourdin,” added des Lupeaulx, “that you cannot transact business with him till Saturday.”
The minister replied with an assenting gesture. The secretary despatched his man with a message to Rabourdin that the minister could not work with him until Saturday, on which day the Chamber was occupied with private bills, and his Excellency had more time at his disposal.
Just at this moment Saillard, having brought the monthly stipend, was slipping his little speech into the ear of the minister’s wife, who drew herself up and answered with dignity that she did not meddle in political matters, and besides, she had heard that Monsieur Rabourdin was already appointed. Saillard, terrified, rushed up to Baudoyer’s office, where he found Dutocq, Godard, and Bixiou in a state of exasperation difficult to describe; for they were reading the terrible paper on the administration in which they were all discussed.
Bixiou [with his finger on a paragraph]. “Here /you/ are, pere Saillard. Listen” [reads]: —
“Saillard. – The office of cashier to be suppressed in all the ministries; their accounts to be kept in future at the Treasury. Saillard is rich and does not need a pension.
“Do you want to hear about your son-in-law?” [Turns over the leaves.] “Here he is” [reads]: —
“Baudoyer. – Utterly incapable. To be thanked and dismissed. Rich; does not need a pension.
“And here’s for Godard” [reads]: —
“Godard. – Should be dismissed; pension one-third of his present salary.
“In short, here we all are. Listen to what I am” [reads]: “An artist who might be employed by the civil list, at the Opera, or the Menus-Plaisirs, or the Museum. Great deal of capacity, little self-respect, no application, – a restless spirit. Ha! I’ll give you a touch of the artist, Monsieur Rabourdin!”
Saillard. “Suppress cashiers! Why, the man’s a monster?”
Bixiou. “Let us see what he says of our mysterious Desroys.” [Turns over the pages; reads.]
“Desroys. – Dangerous; because he cannot be shaken in principles that are subversive of monarchial power. He is the son of the Conventionel, and he admires the Convention. He may become a very mischievous journalist.”
Baudoyer. “The police are not worse spies!”
Godard. “I shall go the general-secretary and lay a complaint in form; we must all resign in a body if such a man as that is put over us.”
Dutocq. “Gentlemen, listen to me; let us be prudent. If you rise at once in a body, we may all be accused of rancor and revenge. No, let the thing work, let the rumor spread quietly. When the whole ministry is aroused your remonstrances will meet with general approval.”
Bixiou. “Dutocq believes in the principles of the grand air composed by the sublime Rossini for Basilio, – which goes to show, by the bye, that the great composer was also a great politician. I shall leave my card on Monsieur Rabourdin to-morrow morning, inscribed thus: ‘Bixiou; no self-respect, no application, restless mind.’”
Godard. “A good idea, gentlemen. Let us all leave our cards to-morrow on Rabourdin inscribed in the same way.”
Dutocq [leading Bixiou apart]. “Come, you’ll agree to make that caricature now, won’t you?”
Bixiou. “I see plainly, my dear fellow, that you knew all about this affair ten days ago” [looks him in the eye]. “Am I to be under-head-clerk?”
Dutocq. “On my word of honor, yes, and a thousand-franc fee beside, just as I told you. You don’t know what a service you’ll be rendering to powerful personages.”
Bixiou. “You know them?”
Dutocq. “Yes.”
Bixiou. “Well, then I want to speak with them.”
Dutocq [dryly]. “You can make the caricature or not, and you can be under-head-clerk or not, – as you please.”
Bixiou. “At any rate, let me see that thousand francs.”
Dutocq. “You shall have them when you bring the drawing.”
Bixiou. “Forward, march! that lampoon shall go from end to end of the bureaus to-morrow morning. Let us go and torment the Rabourdins.” [Then speaking to Saillard, Godard, and Baudoyer, who were talking together in a low voice.] “We are going to stir up the neighbors.” [Goes with Dutocq into the Rabourdin bureau. Fleury, Thuillier, and Vimeux are there, talking excitedly.] “What’s the matter, gentlemen? All that I told you turns out to be true; you can go and see for yourselves the work of this infamous informer; for it is in the hands of the virtuous, honest, estimable, upright, and pious Baudoyer, who is indeed utterly incapable of doing any such thing. Your chief has got every one of you under the guillotine. Go and see; follow the crowd; money returned if you are not satisfied; execution /gratis/! The appointments are postponed. All the bureaus are in arms; Rabourdin has been informed that the minister will not work with him. Come, be off; go and see for yourselves.”
They all depart except Phellion and Poiret, who are left alone. The former loved Rabourdin too well to look for proof that might injure a man he was determined not to judge; the other had only five days more to remain in the office, and cared nothing either way. Just then Sebastien came down to collect the papers for signature. He was a good deal surprised, though he did not show it, to find the office deserted.
Phellion. “My young friend” [he rose, a rare thing], “do you know what is going on? what scandals are rife about Monsieur Rabourdin whom you love, and” [bending to whisper in Sebastien’s ear] “whom I love as much as I respect him. They say he has committed the imprudence to leave a paper containing comments on the officials lying about in the office – ” [Phellion stopped short, caught the young man in his strong arms, seeing that he turned pale and was near fainting, and placed him on a chair.] “A key, Monsieur Poiret, to put down his back; have you a key?”
Poiret. “I have the key of my domicile.”
[Old Poiret junior promptly inserted the said key between Sebastien’s shoulders, while Phellion gave him some water to drink. The poor lad no sooner opened his eyes than he began to weep. He laid his head on Phellion’s desk, and all his limbs were limp as if struck by lightning; while his sobs were so heartrending, so genuine, that for the first time in his life Poiret’s feelings were stirred by the sufferings of another.]
Phellion [speaking firmly]. “Come, come, my young friend; courage! In times of trial we must show courage. You are a man. What is the matter? What has happened to distress you so terribly?”
Sebastien [sobbing]. “It is I who have ruined Monsieur Rabourdin. I left that paper lying about when I copied it. I have killed my benefactor; I shall die myself. Such a noble man! – a man who ought to be minister!”
Poiret [blowing his nose]. “Then it is true he wrote the report.”