Читать книгу The Complete Works of Emile Zola - Emile Zola - Страница 106

WHAT MATHÉUS UNDERSTOOD BY STRATEGY

MATHÉUS was decidedly a pure Republican, a radical with whom there was no joking. His forehead was half covered by his carroty wig, and when he shook his head in the clubs, it resembled a torch throwing out a reddish light. He was always on the side of the extreme party, and supported any measure likely to cause disorder in the city. He had ended by inspiring a sort of respectful terror, and his advice was listened to with admiration, and fear. On the day following the elections he had spoken plainly of setting fire to Marseille, and this had made him extremely popular among the exalted liberals.

He often met Philippe, but avoided becoming intimate with him, confining himself to keeping a watchful eye on him from a distance and to taking note of the fiery language that sometimes escaped him. He wanted to see him mixed up in a nice little conspiracy. So long as the young man limited himself to declaiming in the clubs, taking part in the banquets and popular manifestations, he felt he could do nothing against him, and it was for that reason that he argued in favour of war and barricades. He hoped that at the first shot, Philippe would rush down and join in the street fight, and be arrested and condemned as an insurgent.

Besides, civil war formed part of Mathéus’ calculations. Having promised his master to hand over to him father and son, he relied on the tumult of the insurrection to steal little Joseph, while Philippe would be either killed or imprisoned. He had arranged in his head a plan which, according to his idea, could not fail to succeed. But it was a question of persuading the people to fight. They seemed to him quite disposed to do so, and he had made up his mind that if ever a shot were fired, he would sow such discord that an encounter would be inevitable.

During this time M. de Cazalis was becoming impatient. For three months he had waited in vain for Mathéus to accomplish his promises. When the latter came secretly in the evening to give him an account of the events of the day, he complained bitterly of the long delay that obliged him to live in hiding at his mansion.

“But, sir,” said the spy, with his insolent laugh, “I cannot make the barricades all alone! Allow the insurrection to ripen. Why, you’re more of a Republican than myself. One accustoms oneself to everything, is it not so?”

One night Mathéus suddenly burst in upon the ex-deputy exclaiming:

“Faith, I believe we shall fight tomorrow. I have just spoken for two hours at the club.”

He was in high spirits, and already saw in the near future the money his master had promised him if he succeeded. The latter pressed him with questions, insisting at length on facts.

“Look here,” answered Mathéus. “The Marseillais would never, perhaps, have moved, but they have just had the visit of some Parisians who were present at the events in February, and that has put some courage into them. You understand, I am speaking of those Parisians destined for the war in Italy, and who, robbed on the way by one of their chiefs, reached Marseille stripped of everything.

“But those Parisians have gone,” interrupted M. de Cazalis

“Yes, but they have left a revolutionary current here. There was a gathering in their favour in front of the Prefecture which almost came to blows. The people wanted the city to come to their assistance and the working classes, who are very discontented, will make a great manifestation tomorrow which I trust will end badly.”

“But what do the workmen want then?” inquired the ex-deputy.

Mathéus then posted him up in the actual state of affairs, which was very serious. The great danger came from the workmen employed at the National workshops, which had been established with much difficulty at Marseille and were to cause irreparable misfortune. The only work that could be given to the people, by the terms of the decree of the Provisional Government, was the digging out of the canal, then in progress, which at the present day brings the waters of the Durance to the city. There was quite a multitude of workmen there, employed indiscriminately at a task other than their particular trades, who for the most part cursed the bread they earned and kept the spark of revolt always alight.

The discontent of these toilers arose from the inequality the government had established between them and their brethren at Paris. The latter, according to the decree, had only to work for ten hours, while those in the departments laboured for eleven hours. In presence of the incessant complaints of the Marseillais workmen the commissary, fearing the exasperation of this ill-disciplined body of men, had thought right to make use of his discretional powers and had reduced the day’s labour at Marseille to ten hours.

Unfortunately all the heads of workshops would not accept this reduction. Some continued to insist on their workmen doing eleven hours; others deducted the value of the hour’s work that was not done. This gave rise to constant rebellion and a permanent feeling of exasperation which could only end in a violent crisis. Up to that time the complaints of the workmen had not met with any serious result; the statements of facts they had drawn up had had no effect; their manifestations had been met by idle promises which were broken as soon as their backs were turned. They wanted to finish the business, they wished for justice.

On Tuesday June 20th, the evening preceding that on which Mathéus had given these details to his master, the delegates of the corporations had assembled to discuss the advisability of making a grand manifestation. They had almost all voted against it, foreseeing, no doubt, the sanguinary struggle it would result in.

“The delegates seem to me clever and prudent persons,” said Mathéus in conclusion; “but fortunately the workmen are far too irritated to listen to them. If there happen to be some cool heads among the latter, there are also many fiery spirits who dream of getting the upper hand by force. I think I can promise you a nice little insurrection. I know a great number of workmen will not abide by the vote of the delegates and have decided that the manifestation shall be held in spite of it. It will be extraordinary if some circumstance does not bring about a struggle. You shall see how I will warm it up for you.”

M. de Cazalis listened to the spy with delight.

“Are your plans all formed?” he inquired. “You are certain Cayol will compromise himself and that you will succeed in gaining possession of the child?”

“Eh! don’t be uneasy,” answered the other. “That is my business. If there be a fight, Master Philippe will be in the first rank of the insurgents, of that you may be sure; and as to the child, he will be in your possession before evening. These workmen are perfect asses, they’re going to get killed and imprisoned for nonsense. Ah! the Republic is a great joke! Good night, tomorrow morning I will call and give you the day’s programme.”

Mathéus left M. de Cazalis, and remained until night in the streets, listening to what was said and endeavouring to foresee events. A rumour that was abroad caused him anxiety: it was pretended that the Government Commissary did not seem hostile to the manifestation. It was affirmed that he had received the visit of some delegates, who had hastened to inform him they were powerless to keep back the crowd of workmen, and he had let them understand that he was not displeased at this step, which might enable him to take more stringent measures against the refractory heads of the workshops. It was even added that he had already fixed the itinerary the column was to follow while he received the delegates.

Mathéus went to bed in despair and furious against the Republic.

“What a lot of cowards!” he murmured, “they will not dare exchange a shot! But fight, you brutes! You ruin me if you do not. They shake their fists at one another, the poor want to eat up the rich, and they always end by hugging each other. It’s disgusting. You will see that tomorrow, the quarrel will end in a banquet, at which Commissary and workmen will get an indigestion from eating too much pork. However, we shall see.”

As soon as he awoke, he hastened to the vicinity of the Prefecture. It was Thursday the 22nd. The building was surrounded by troops.

“And, on we go!” Mathéus murmured to himself with lively delight. “I knew they’d fight! I’ll go and find my friends the workmen to throw them on those bayonets.”

But before withdrawing, he mingled with the groups and found that the Commissary seemed to have repented of authorising the manifestation. A message had been sent to a few companies of the National Guard on the previous evening, and the line had been called out. No detail escaped the spy, and he remarked that no Republican company was present among the citizen soldiers. Sauvaire was parading at the corner of two streets.

Mathéus hastened to the Boulevard Chave, where another meeting of the delegates was to be held. They declared themselves opposed to the manifestation, as had occurred two days before, and a certain number of them even said that the workmen whom they represented, had that morning gone to work as usual. As the men who were peacefully disposed were about to withdraw, those who wished for the manifestation at any price, urged on and excited by Mathéus, persuaded their comrades to join them. A nucleus was formed, which went on increasing and in the end became a regular crowd. The people were started and would now not stop.

When Mathéus understood that the multitude required no more urging-on, he allowed it to increase by itself and roll towards the Prefecture. During that time he completed his plan of campaign.

He wished first of all to give M. de Cazalis news, as he had promised. Nine o’clock was striking. Thinking aright that he would not be allowed to cross the Place Saint Ferréol, which was then full of troops, he went to the Quay du Canal, took the Rue de Breteuil and found himself within a few steps of his master’s mansion. He had to pass by the house inhabited by the Cayols, which stood on the Cours Bonaparte, close to the residence of M. de Cazalis. He cast a triumphant look at the structure as he went by.

His plan would depend on circumstances. He relied on the troubles of the insurrection to steal Joseph. No doubt Marius would go in search of his brother at the first shot; and during that time it would be easy for him to tear the child from Fine’s arms. Besides, he was in hopes that as the Prefecture was near, all the quarter would take fire: perhaps, even, barricades might be raised in the neighbouring streets; in a word he awaited some event that would facilitate the capture of the little one, and he vowed to himself he would act boldly, and risk all to succeed.

As he took a last glance at the door, recalling to memory the inside of the house, which he had been studying for some time, he saw a young woman leave it rapidly, holding a child in her arms. He recognised Fine and little Joseph. This sudden exit alarmed him, and he proceeded to follow the young woman.

Fine walked along hurriedly, without turning her head, impatient to arrive at her destination. She went down the Rue de Breteuil, up the Cannebière to the Place Royale and entered the narrow streets of the old town. Mathéus continued hurrying along behind her, wondering where she could be going to, and they thus reached the Place aux Œufs together. There, Fine suddenly disappeared in a house, and Mathéus remained for a few minutes in the centre of the square, perplexed, seeking to turn the precautions the Cayols were taking to his advantage.

Marius, who had been warned by his brother on the previous evening, of the troubles that might occur in the neighbourhood of the Prefecture, had decided not to leave Joseph in the house on the Cours Bonaparte. He had vague fears of a surprise; he felt that M. de Cazalis must be there, in the dark, watching for the first opportunity that occurred. When there is fighting in the streets, there are often burglaries in the houses.

Marius consequently thought it would not be prudent to keep the child in the room where they would certainly come to look for him in case an attempt were made to gain possession of him, and he arranged with Fine that they would hide him somewhere else, no later than the next morning. For that purpose they selected the little lodging the former flower-girl had long occupied on the Place aux Œufs and where her brother Cadet still resided. While Marius was running about the streets to watch over Philippe, his wife had just come to seek refuge with the child in a corner of Marseille where she never thought she could be discovered. As she ascended the stairs she felt quite happy, saying to herself that she and the little one were saved.

Mathéus, after having taken two or three turns under the trees, approached a post of National Guards who were at a corner of the square. This post was occupied by men belonging to a Republican company and the spy saw at once with whom he had to deal.

“It seems there will be fighting opposite the Prefecture,” he remarked to the lieutenant.

The latter feigned not to hear. After an instant Mathéus continued:

“This would be a splendid place for barricades! Just look, one would almost think the ground had been specially prepared for them.”

The lieutenant glanced complaisantly around him and ended by making up his mind to speak.

“Yes, yes,” he said, “there would only be a few narrow lanes to block. The workmen are our brothers, we will not fight against them.”

Mathéus, whom the lieutenant had mistaken for a navvy, gave him a vigorous shake of the hand and hurried away. Chance had served him well: his plan of campaign was now complete. When he reached the mansion of M. de Cazalis he was panting for breath.

“All is going on well!” he exclaimed. “I’ll be answerable for success!”

He then noticed that M. de Cazalis was wearing the uniform of a National Guard.

“What is the meaning of this masquerade?” he inquired in surprise. “I came to advise you not to show yourself,”

“I cannot keep still,” answered the ex-deputy; “I’m too impatient, I must see for myself. Let us go down.”

They went down and Mathéus related his morning’s work to his master. As they approached the Prefecture, they heard a dull and terrible sound, the first roar of the riot.