Читать книгу The Complete Works of Emile Zola - Emile Zola - Страница 104

IN WHICH MATHÉUS BECOMES A REPUBLICAN

WHEN M. de Cazalis’ temper had calmed down on the day following his expedition to the cottage of Ayasse, the gardener, he was seized with absolute terror. He felt himself in the power of his enemies: now that Philippe had obtained his pardon, the Cayols would no doubt track him without pity.

He allowed Mathéus to be a witness of his alarm. Not knowing on whom to vent the rage that his powerlessness aroused within him, he overwhelmed his agent with reproaches, reviled him and said that if he had not stolen Joseph, it must be because he was in the pay of Marius.

Mathéus received the abuse philosophically and shrugged his shoulders.

“Very good! continue!” he said, impudently, “call me a villain, if that relieves you. At heart you know I am devoted to you, because you pay me far more liberally than those beggars Cayol could ever do. Instead of getting irritable, it would be wiser to think over the position and come to a decision.”

The rascal’s self-possession calmed down M. de Cazalis and he then confided to his accomplice, that he had a very good mind to fly, and go and live in peace in Italy or England. It was the simplest and most expeditious way of escaping the annoyances with which he was threatened. They would certainly not go and demand the accounts of his guardianship in a foreign country.

Mathéus listened to his master and shook his head. This idea of running away did not suit his views at all. To complete his fortune he required M. de Cazalis to remain at Marseille, so that he might speculate on his fright and get all the money he could out of him. He certainly felt that the latter was right in wishing to take to his heels, which meant safety, but he cared very little about the safety of M. de Cazalis, and did not mind if he compromised him, from the moment it was to his interest to launch him into a struggle from which the issue was doubtful. What he desired above everything, was not to lose his pay as a spy. He therefore pleaded warmly against flight, and he was fortunate enough to find good reasons to support his argument.

“Why fly?” he said. “Have you abandoned the idea of avenging yourself then? There is no reason to despair. Your enemies are trembling before you and will never dare attack you openly. There are a thousand things that bind them to silence. Come, you are very wrong to be alarmed. In your place I would remain and conquer. I would openly assume the offensive. Those idiots are sure to make a mistake. We will take advantage of everything, and the time will come when we shall have them again in our power. You have accused me of clumsiness because I did not succeed in bringing you the little one. I am not clumsy and I have a return match to play. On the word of an honest man, you shall have the child. The deuce! Acting together we can make anything we engage in succeed.”

He spoke at length, cleverly appealed to his employer’s pride and vengeance, and ended by persuading him to remain and continue the struggle. Then there was a long conference between them.

Before doing anything M. de Cazalis desired Mathéus to make an effort with Blanche. He was to endeavour to obtain her signature to various documents which would deprive her son of a large part of his inheritance.

He set out on his errand firmly decided not to get anything signed, for if he acted in accordance with his master’s desire, that would simplify matters too much, and his services would no longer be required, as when the documents were once signed his master could dispense with his assistance. He arranged in such a manner that Blanche firmly refused her signature.

M. de Cazalis was exasperated at this refusal; and only dreamed of vengeance. He spoke of nothing less than having the Cayols knocked on the head.

It was at that degree of irritation that Mathéus wished to see him arrive, and he took advantage of it to make him give him full powers. He then begged him not to meddle in the affair, so as not to compromise himself. Every evening he called and made him a report which was true or false; he kept him informed of the acts and attitude of his enemies, calming him, irritating him according to his requirements, and always promising him prompt victory.

Two months passed. M. de Cazalis was beginning to get impatient, saying the Cayols were too circumspect, and that such people would never make a mistake, when one evening Mathéus entered his drawingroom, rubbing his hands with the air of a conqueror.

“What’s the news?” inquired the ex-deputy impatiently of his accomplice.

Mathéus did not answer immediately. He had seated himself comfortably in an armchair, and, with his hands crossed over his stomach, sat blinking his eyes with a sanctimonious air. This lackey treated the illustrious descendant of the Cazalis as an equal.

“What do you think of the Republic?” he abruptly inquired of his master, in a bantering tone. “It’s a fine invention of the human mind, is it not?”

The master shrugged his shoulders. He tolerated this rascal’s impudence, and the latter took secret delight in wounding him.

“You are aware that the monarchy is dead and buried,” continued the tatterdemalion in the same bantering tone. “We have been citizens for the last twenty-four hours and I feel inclined to address you in the second person.”

M. de Cazalis had been following political events during the last few months with much indifference. He had learned on the previous evening of the overthrow of Louis Philippe, without even paying attention to the news. Formerly, when he was deputy in the opposition ranks, and sought to shake this throne which the people had just upset, he would have applauded at the event, free afterwards to discover the most rapid way of muzzling the rabble, which was the name he generally gave to the working classes, but at the present moment his only anxiety consisted in discovering a means by which he could retain possession of his niece’s fortune so as to be able to devour it with impunity.

When he heard Mathéus say he felt inclined to address him in the second person, he nevertheless made a movement of disgust.

“No joking,” he said drily. “Come, what news have you?”

Mathéus maintained his insolent attitude.

“Eh! Eh!” he answered, with a sneer, “how sharply you speak to your brothers; for you are aware that we are all brothers! it’s written on the flags. Oh! what a fine thing the Republic is!”

“Come to the point. What do you know? Where have you been?”

“I know that we shall perhaps be throwing up barricades one of these days, and I come from the Workers’ Club, of which I am one of the most popular members. It is matter for regret, sir, that your opinions debar you from listening to me. I delivered a speech this morning against the Legitimists which was approved by everyone present. But for the matter of that, I can give you proof of my eloquence.”

And Mathéus rising, stood upright, one hand on his heart and the other extended in front of him like a man about to speak.

M. de Cazalis understood that his worthy associate had some good news to tell him, and that he was making him pay for that news by amusing himself at his expense. He belonged to this man, and he saw he would be compelled to accept his sneers until it pleased him to say all. By cowardice and to flatter this rascal who played with him as with a prey, he lowered himself to the point of laughing at his clownish grimaces hoping by so doing to make him speak out sooner.

“You certainly must make a capital speaker,” he said to him, with a smile.

Mathéus had kept in the same position, trying to recall the sentences of his speech. Then, he let himself fall into the armchair, crossed his legs, threw himself back and continued, still sneering:

“I can’t remember it. It was very fine. I said the Legitimists were rascals. I even think I mentioned your name and suggested hanging you at the first opportunity. They applauded. I must, you understand, take care of my popularity.”

He laughed, displaying his wolfish teeth.

M. de Cazalis, who was becoming exasperated at the scoundrel’s familiarity, walked up and down the room making the greatest efforts not to burst out in anger. The other felt delicious delight at his rage, remained silent for a moment, and when he saw it would be imprudent to make fun any longer, he continued in a bantering tone:

“By the way, I forgot to tell you that M. Philippe Cayol is my colleague at the Workers’ Club.”

M. de Cazalis came to a standstill.

“At last!” he murmured.

“Yes,” continued Mathéus slowly, “M. Philippe Cayol is a very warm Republican and I pride myself on being his disciple. I humbly confess to you that his speeches are of a much more fervent, democratic character than mine. That young man will certainly save the country if it ever stands in need of being saved.”

“Ah! that simpleton has flung himself into the Liberal movement?”

“Body and soul. He is one of the leaders of the red party. The workingmen worship him because he shows no pride with them and because he has the simplicity to tell them in good faith that the people are King and that the poor are going to take the place of the nobility and wealthy.”

M. de Cazalis was beaming.

“He is compromising himself, we have him in our grip!” he exclaimed.

Mathéus feigned to be scandalized.

“What, he is compromising himself!” he answered. “Say he is a hero, a glorious child of the Republic! In ten years, the people, conquerors of kings, will erect altars to him. I experienced such enthusiasm at his speeches, that I suddenly felt the material of a Republican in me.”

He rose, and with clownish majesty continued:

“Citizens, you see in me a Republican. Look at me, observe how a Republican is made. We are only a few hundred at Marseille, but we are sufficient to bring about the salvation of humanity. As for myself I am full of zeal — “

In his turn he strode up and down the room.

“Here is what I have already accomplished in favour of the Republic,” he continued. “I have taken M. Philippe Cayol as a model, and in order to inspire my mind with his thoughts, I have followed him step by step. We were both members of a secret society; then I arranged to be admitted to the Workers’ Club at the same time as he was. Each time he speaks there, I applaud him, intoxicate him with enthusiasm. That is my own poor way of serving the country. I am sure that M. Philippe Cayol, encouraged by me, will accomplish great things.”

“I understand, I understand,” murmured M. de Cazalis.

Mathéus continued declaiming.

“We will raise barricades, it is I who insist on it, because barricades are necessary to M. Philippe Cayol’s glory. The people have laboured enough. Is it not so? The aristocrats must work in their turn. A few bullets will set everything in order. M. Philippe Cayol will march at the head of his friends, the workingmen: he will lead them on to fortune, unless a gendarme takes him by the collar and drags him before the judges at the assizes, who will certainly show the bad taste to sentence him to transportation.”

The ex-deputy was beside himself with delight. The grimaces with which Mathéus accompanied his speech, now amused him. He pressed his hands and repeated effusively:

“Thanks, thanks, I will reward you, you shall be rich.”

For a moment Mathéus continued standing in his triumphant attitude. Then he burst out into a peal of laughter.

“Eh! What think you?” he exclaimed, “the trick’s done?”

He had the manners of a mountebank about him, and was delighted at the scene with which he had accompanied the news he brought. At last master and valet seated themselves and talked in an undertone.

“You understand me,” said the latter. “We have got M. Philippe, who is behaving like a child. Trust in me. I will make him do something extravagant which he’ll pay dearly for.”

“But if you follow him step by step, he must recognise you.”

“Eh! no, he only saw me once, in the evening at Saint Barnabé. Besides, I have purchased a wig of a bright red colour, which gives me a capital revolutionary appearance. Ah! what simpletons these democrats are, my dear master! They talk of justice, duty, equality; they have an air of honesty that irritates me. I bet they’d massacre me, if they were aware I was working for you. You will never recompense me sufficiently largely, for the sacrifice I am making in consenting to pass for one of theirs.”

“And if the Liberal party wins the day?” asked M. de Cazalis, who had been thinking. Mathéus looked at his master stupefied.

“What do you say?” he answered, twitting him. “Then do you fancy they are so fond as all that of the Republic at Marseille? Listen to this. What ever happens the Liberals will be beaten in this good city. Have no fear. If Cayol can be caught in some fray, his business will be settled. Before a fortnight’s over our merchants will have had enough of liberty, and will want to strangle all those who serve it out to them.”

The ex-deputy remembered the manoeuvres that had brought about his election and could not repress a smile. His acolyte was right: where money is all-powerful, Republican ideas do not flourish.

“I have no need,” continued Mathéus, “to expose my entire plan to you. Remain quiet and I feel sure of handing father and son over to you. We will begin the expedition to Saint Barnabé again, but in a more intelligent manner.”

And as his master renewed his thanks he bluntly added:

“But look here, you must not have me collared with the other Republicans to get rid of me? I am compromising myself, and require a guarantee. Write me a letter instructing me to watch over Philippe Cayol. In that way you become my accomplice. I will return you that letter in exchange for a sum of money, which we will arrange between us, in payment for my services.”

M. de Cazalis consented to everything. He could not for the matter of that do otherwise, and he felt he would always have power over Mathéus on account of the money.

The latter before leaving, urged him to remain quiet in his hotel as he wished to act alone.