CHAPTER 19

The general elections were to take place in October. About the middle of September, Monseigneur Rousselot suddenly set off to Paris, after having a long interview with Abbé Faujas. It was said that one of his sisters, who lived at Versailles, was seriously ill. Five days later he was back in Plassans again, and he called Abbé Surin into his study to read to him. Lying back in his easy chair, closely enveloped in a padded robe of violet silk, although the weather was still quite warm, he smilingly listened to the young Abbé's womanish voice as he softly lisped the strophes of Anacreon.

'Good, very good,' he said; 'you express the music of that beautiful tongue excellently.'

Then, glancing at the timepiece with an expression of uneasiness, he added:

'Has Abbé Faujas been here yet this morning? Ah, my child, what a dreadful time I've had! My ears are still buzzing with the abominable uproar of the railway. It was raining the whole time I was in Paris. I had to rush all over the place, and saw nothing but mud everywhere.'

Abbé Surin laid his book on the corner of a small table.

'Is your lordship satisfied with the results of your journey?' he asked, with the familiarity of a petted favourite.

'I have learnt what I wanted to know,' the Bishop replied with his subtle smile. 'I ought to have taken you with me. You would have learnt a good many things that it would be useful for you to know at your age, destined as you are by your birth and connections for the episcopate.'

'I am listening, my lord,' said the young priest with a beseeching expression.

But the prelate shook his head.

'No, no; these matters are not to be spoken of. Make a friend of Abbé Faujas. He maybe able to do much for you some day. I have received full information about him.'

Abbé Surin, however, clasped his hands with such a wheedling look of curiosity that Monseigneur Rousselot went on to say:

'He had some bother or other at Besan?on. Afterwards he was living in great poverty in furnished apartments in[Pg 251] Paris. He went and offered himself. Just at that time the minister was on the look-out for some priests devoted to the government. I was told that Faujas at first quite frightened him with his fierce looks and his old cassock. It was quite by chance that he was sent here. The minister was most pleasant and courteous to me.'

The Bishop finished his sentences with a slight wave of his hand, as he sought for fitting words, fearing, as it were, to say too much. But at last the affection which he felt for his secretary got the better of his caution, and he continued with more animation:

'Take my advice and try to be useful to the vicar of Saint-Saturnin's. He will want all the assistance he can get, and he seems to me to be a man who never forgets either an injury or a kindness. But don't ally yourself with him. He will end badly. That is my impression.'

'End badly?' exclaimed the young priest in surprise.

'Oh! just now he is in the full swing of triumph. But his face disquiets me, my child. He has a terrible face. That man will never die in his bed. Don't you do anything to compromise me. All I ask is to be allowed to live tranquilly—quietness is all I want.'

Abbé Surin was just taking up his book again, when Abbé Faujas was announced. Monseigneur Rousselot advanced to meet him with outstretched hands and a smiling face, addressing him as his 'dear Curé.'

'Leave us, my child,' he said to his secretary, who thereupon retired.

He spoke of his journey. His sister was better than she had been, he said, and he had been able to shake hands with some old friends.

'And did you see the minister?' asked Abbé Faujas, fixing his eyes upon him.

'Yes; I thought it my duty to call upon him,' replied the Bishop, who felt that he was blushing. 'He spoke to me very favourably indeed of you.'

'Then you no longer have any doubts—you trust me absolutely?'

'Absolutely, my dear Curé. Besides, I know nothing about politics myself, and I leave everything in your hands.'

They remained talking together the whole morning. Abbé Faujas persuaded the Bishop to undertake a visitation of his diocese, and said he would go with him and prompt him as to[Pg 252] what he should say. It would be necessary to summon all the rural deans so that the priests of the smallest villages might receive their instructions. There would be no difficulty in all this, for the clergy would act as they were told. The most delicate task would be in Plassans itself, in the district of Saint-Marc. The aristocrats there, shutting themselves up in the privacy of their houses, were entirely beyond the reach of Abbé Faujas's influence, and he had so far only been able to work upon certain ambitious royalists, such men as Rastoil and Maffre and Bourdeu. The Bishop, however, undertook to sound the feelings of various drawing-rooms in the district of Saint-Marc where he visited. But even allowing that the aristocracy should vote adversely, they would be in a ridiculous minority if they were deserted by those electors of the middle classes who were amenable to clerical influence.

'Now,' said Monseigneur Rousselot as he rose from his seat, 'it would perhaps be as well if you told me the name of your candidate, so that I may recommend him in my letters.'

Abbé Faujas smiled.

'It is dangerous to mention names,' he said. 'There wouldn't be a scrap of our candidate left in a week's time if we made his name known now. The Marquis de Lagrifoul has become quite out of the question. Monsieur de Bourdeu, who reckons upon being a candidate, is still more so. We shall leave them to destroy each other, and then, at the last moment, we shall come forward. Just say that an election on purely political grounds would be very regrettable, and that what is needed for the interests of Plassans is somebody who is not a party man, but has an intimate knowledge of the requirements of the town and the department. And you may let it be understood that such a man has been found; but don't go any further.'

The Bishop now in his turn smiled. He detained the priest for a moment as he was about to take leave.

'And Abbé Fenil?' he said, lowering his voice. 'Are you not afraid that he will do all he can to thwart your plans?'

Abbé Faujas shrugged his shoulders.

'He has made no sign at all,' he said.

'It is precisely that quietness of his that makes me uneasy,' rejoined the prelate. 'I know Fenil well. He is the most vindictive priest in my diocese. He may possibly have abandoned the ambition of beating you in the political arena,[Pg 253] but you may be sure he will wreak personal vengeance upon you. I have no doubt that he is keeping a watch on you in his retirement.'

'Pooh!' said Abbé Faujas, showing his white teeth. 'I'll take care that he doesn't eat me up.'

Abbé Surin had just returned into the room, and when the vicar of Saint-Saturnin's had gone he made the Bishop laugh by exclaiming:

'Ah! if they could only devour each other like a couple of foxes, and leave nothing but their tails!'

The electoral campaign was on the point of commencing. Plassans, which generally remained quite calm, unexcited by political questions, was growing a little feverish and perturbed. From some invisible mouth a breath of war seemed to sweep through its quiet streets. The Marquis de Lagrifoul, who lived at La Palud, a large straggling village in the neighbourhood, had been in Plassans for the last fortnight, staying at the house of a relative of his, the Count de Valqueyras, whose mansion was one of the largest in the Saint-Marc district. The Marquis showed himself about the town, promenaded on the Cours Sauvaire, attended Saint-Saturnin's, and bowed to sundry influential townspeople, but without succeeding in throwing aside his haughty ways. His attempts to acquire popularity seemed to fail. Fresh charges against him, originating from some unknown source, were bandied about every day. It was asserted that he was a miserably incompetent man. With any other representative Plassans would long ago have had a branch line of railway connecting it with Nice. It was said, too, that if anyone from the district went to see him in Paris he had to call three or four times before he could obtain the slightest service. However, although the candidature of the Marquis was much damaged by gossip of this kind, no other candidate had openly entered the lists. There was some talk of Monsieur de Bourdeu coming forward, though it was considered that it would be extremely difficult to obtain a majority for an ex-prefect of Louis-Philippe, who had no strong connection with the place. There seemed also to be some unknown influence at work in Plassans upsetting all the previous prospects of the election by breaking the alliance between the Legitimists and the Republicans. The prevailing feeling was one of general perplexity and confusion, mingled with weariness and a desire to get the affair over as quickly as possible.

[Pg 254]

'The majority is shifting,' said the politicians of the Cours Sauvaire. 'The question is which way will it finally incline?'

Amid the excitement and restlessness which this doubtful state of things was causing in the town, the Republicans became anxious to run a candidate of their own. Their choice fell upon a master-hatter, one Maurin, a plain simple man, who was very much liked by the working-classes. In the cafés, in the evenings, Trouche expressed an opinion that Maurin was by no means sufficiently advanced in his views, and proposed in his stead a wheelwright of Les Tulettes, whose name had appeared in the list of the December proscripts.[6] This man, however, had the good sense to decline the nomination. It should be said that Trouche now gave himself out as an extreme Republican. He would have come forward himself, he said, if his wife's brother had not been a parson, but as he was—to his great regret, he declared—forced to eat the bread of the hypocrites, he felt bound to remain in the background. He was one of the first to circulate reports to the detriment of the Marquis de Lagrifoul, and he also favoured the rupture of the Republicans and the Legitimists. Trouche's greatest success was obtained by accusing the Sub-Prefecture party and the adherents of Monsieur Rastoil of having brought about the confinement of poor Mouret, with the view of depriving the democratic party of one of its worthiest chiefs. On the evening when he first launched this accusation at a spirit-dealer's in the Rue Canquoin, the company assembled there looked at one other with a peculiar expression. The gossips of the old quarter of the town spoke quite feelingly about 'the madman who beat his wife,' now that he was shut up at Les Tulettes, and told one another that Abbé Faujas had simply wanted to get an inconvenient husband out of his way. Trouche repeated his charge every evening, banging his fists upon the tables of the cafés with such an air of conviction that he succeeded in persuading his listeners of the truth of his story, in which, by the way, Monsieur Péqueur des Saulaies was made to play the most extraordinary part imaginable. There was a complete reaction in Mouret's favour. He was considered to be a political victim, a man whose influence had been feared so much that he had been put out of the way in a cell at a mad-house.

[Pg 255]

'Just leave it all to me,' Trouche said with a confidential air. 'I'll expose all these precious pious folks, and I'll tell some fine stories about their Home of the Virgin. It's a nice place is that Home—a place where the ladies make assignations!'

Meanwhile Abbé Faujas almost seemed to have the power of multiplying himself. For some time past he was to be seen everywhere. He bestowed much attention upon his appearance, and was careful always to have a pleasant smile upon his face; though now and then his eyelids dropped for an instant to hide the stern fire kindling in his glance. Often with his patience quite worn out, weary of his wretched struggles, he returned to his bare room with clenched fists. Old Madame Rougon, whom he continued to see in secret, proved his good genius. She lectured him soundly whenever he felt despondent, and kept him bent before her while she told him that he must strive to please, and that he would ruin everything if he let the iron hand appear from under the velvet glove. Afterwards, when he had made himself master, he might seize Plassans by the throat and strangle it, if he liked. She herself certainly had no great affection for Plassans, against which she owed a grudge for forty years' wretchedness, and which had been bursting with jealousy of her ever since the Coup d'état.

'It is I who wear the cassock,' she said sometimes, with a smile; 'you carry yourself like a gendarme, my dear Curé.'

The priest showed himself particularly assiduous in his attendance at the Young Men's Club. He listened with an indulgent air to the young men talking politics, and told them, with a shake of his head, that honesty was all that was necessary. His popularity at the Club was still increasing. One evening he consented to play at billiards, and showed himself extremely skilful at the game, and sometimes, when they formed a quiet little party, he would even accept a cigarette. The club took his advice on every question that arose. His reputation for tolerance was completely established by the kind, good-natured way in which he advocated the admission of Guillaume Porquier, who had now renewed his application.

'I have seen the young man,' he said; 'he came to me to make a general confession, and I ended by giving him absolution. There is forgiveness for every sin. We must not treat him as a leper just because he pulled down a few signboards in Plassans, and ran into debt at Paris.'

[Pg 256]

When Guillaume was elected, he said to the young Maffres, with a grin:

'Well, you owe me a couple of bottles of champagne now. You see that the Curé does all that I want. I have a little machine to tickle him with in a sensitive place, and then he begins to laugh, my boys, and he can't refuse me anything.'

'Well, it doesn't seem as though he were very fond of you, anyhow,' said Alphonse; 'he looks very sourly at you.'

'Pooh! that's because I tickled him too hard. You will see that we shall soon be the best friends in the world.'

Abbé Faujas did, indeed, seem to have an affection for the doctor's son. He declared that this young man wanted guiding with a very gentle hand. In a short time Guillaume became the moving spirit of the club. He invented amusements, showed them how to make kirsch-water punch, and led young fellows fresh from college into all sorts of dissipation. His pleasant vices gave him enormous influence. While the organ was pealing above the billiard-room, he drank away, and gathered round him the sons of the most respectable people in Plassans, making them almost choke with laughter at his broad stories. The club now got into a very fast way, indulging in doubtful topics of conversation in all the corners. Abbé Faujas, however, appeared quite unconscious of it. Guillaume said that he had a splendid noddle, teeming with the greatest thoughts.

'The Abbé may be a bishop whenever he likes,' he remarked. 'He has already refused a living in Paris. He wants to stay at Plassans; he has taken a liking to the place. I should like to nominate him as deputy. He's the sort of man we want in the Chamber! But he would never consent; he is too modest. Still it would be a good thing to take his advice when the elections are at hand. We may trust anything that he tells us. He wouldn't deceive anybody.'

Meantime, Lucien Delangre remained the serious man of the club. He showed great deference to Abbé Faujas, and won the group of studious young men over to the priest's side. He frequently walked with him to the club, talking to him with much animation, but subsiding into silence as soon as they entered the general room.

On leaving the café established beneath the Church of the Minimes, the Abbé regularly went to the Home of the Virgin. He arrived there during play-time, and made his appearance with a smiling face upon the steps of the playground.[Pg 257] Thereupon the girls surrounded him, and disputed with each other for the possession of his pockets, in which some sacred pictures or chaplets or medals that had been blessed were always to be found. Those big girls quite worshipped him as he tapped them gently on their cheeks and told them to be good, at which they broke into sly smiles. The Sisters often complained to him that the children confided to their care were utterly unmanageable, that they fought, tore each other's hair, and did even worse things. The Abbé, however, regarded their offences as mere peccadilloes, and as a rule simply reproved the more turbulent girls in the chapel, whence they emerged in a more submissive frame of mind. Occasionally he made some rather graver piece of misconduct a pretext for sending for the parents, whom he sent away again quite touched by his kindness and good-nature. In this wise the young scapegraces of the Home of the Virgin gained him the hearts of the poor families of Plassans. When they went home in the evening, they told the most wonderful things about his reverence the Curé. It was no uncommon occurrence to find a couple of them in some secluded corner of the ramparts on the point of coming to blows to decide which of them his reverence liked the better.

'Those young hussies represent from two to three thousand votes,' Trouche thought to himself, as from the window he watched Abbé Faujas showing himself so amiable.

Trouche himself had tried to win over 'the little dears,' as he called the girls; but the priest, distrusting him, had forbidden him to set foot in the playground; and so he now confined himself to throwing sugar-plums there, when the Sisters' backs were turned.

The Abbé's day's work did not end at the Home of the Virgin. From there he started on a series of short visits to the fashionable ladies of Plassans. Madame Rastoil and Madame Delangre welcomed him with delight, and repeated his slightest words everywhere. But his great friend was Madame de Condamin. She maintained an air of easy familiarity towards him betokening the superiority of a beautiful woman who is conscious that she is all-powerful. She spoke now and again in low tones, and with meaning smiles and glances, which seemed to indicate that there was some secret understanding between them. When the priest came to see her, she dismissed her husband. 'The government was going to hold a cabinet-council,' so the conservator[Pg 258] of rivers and forests playfully said, as he philosophically went off to mount his horse.

It was Madame Rougon who had brought Madame de Condamin to the priest's notice.

'She has not yet absolutely established her position here,' the old lady explained to Abbé Faujas. 'But there is a good deal of cleverness under those pretty, coquettish airs of hers. You can take her into your confidence, and she will see in your triumph a means of making her own success and power more complete. She will be of great use to you if you should find it necessary to give away places or crosses. She has retained an influential friend in Paris, who sends her as many red ribbons as she asks for.'

As Madame Rougon kept herself aloof from reasons of diplomacy, the fair Octavie thus became Abbé Faujas's most active ally. She won over to his side both her friends and her friends' friends. She resumed her campaign afresh every morning and exerted an astonishing amount of influence merely by the pleasant little waves of her delicately gloved fingers. She had particular success with the bourgeoises, and increased tenfold that feminine influence of which the priest had felt the absolute necessity as soon as he began to thread the narrow world of Plassans. She succeeded, too, in closing the mouths of the Paloques—who were growing very rabid about the state of affairs at the Mourets' house—by throwing a honied cake to the two monsters.

'What! do you still bear us a grudge, my dear lady?' she said one day, as she met the judge's wife. 'It is very wrong of you. Your friends have not forgotten you; they are thinking about you and are preparing a surprise for you.'

'A fine surprise, I'll be bound!' cried Madame Paloque, bitterly. 'No, we are not going to allow ourselves to be laughed at again. I have firmly made up my mind to keep to my own affairs.'

Madame de Condamin smiled.

'What would you say,' she asked, 'if Monsieur Paloque were to be decorated?'

The judge's wife stared in silence. A rush of blood to her face turned it quite blue, and made her terrible to behold.

'You are joking,' she stammered. 'This is only another plot against us—if it isn't true, I'll never forgive you.'

The fair Octavie swore that she had spoken nothing but the truth. The distinction would certainly be conferred upon[Pg 259] Monsieur Paloque, but it would not be officially notified in the 'Moniteur' until after the elections, as the government did not wish it to appear as if it were buying the support of the magistracy. She also hinted that Abbé Faujas was not unconcerned in the bestowal of this long-desired reward, and said that he had talked about it to the sub-prefect.

'My husband was right, then,' exclaimed Madame Paloque, in great surprise. 'For a long time past he has been worrying me dreadfully to go and apologise to the Abbé. But I am very obstinate, and I would have let myself be killed sooner. But since the Abbé makes the first move—well, we ask nothing more than to live at peace with everyone. We will go to the Sub-Prefecture to-morrow.'

The next day the Paloques were very humble. Madame Paloque accused Abbé Fenil of the blackest conduct; and related with consummate impudence how she had gone to see him one day, and how he had spoken in her presence of turning 'the whole of Abbé Faujas's clique' neck-and-crop out of Plassans.

'If you like,' she said to the priest, taking him aside, 'I will give you a note written at the vicar-general's dictation. It concerns you. He tried, I believe, to get several discreditable stories inserted in the "Plassans Gazette."'

'How did this note come into your hands?' asked Faujas.

'Well, it's sufficient that it is there,' she replied, without any sign of embarrassment.

And, with a smile, she continued:

'I found it. I recollect, by the way, that there are two or three words written in the vicar-general's own hand. I may trust to your honour in all this, may I not? We are upright, honest people, and we don't want to compromise ourselves.'

She pretended to be affected by scruples for three days before bringing him the note; and Madame de Condamin was obliged to assure her privately that an application to have Monsieur Rastoil pensioned off would shortly be made, so that her husband could succeed to his post. Then she gave up the paper. Abbé Faujas did not wish to keep it himself, but took it to Madame Rougon, and charged her to make use of it—keeping herself, however, strictly in the background—if the vicar-general showed the slightest sign of interfering in the elections.

Madame de Condamin also dropped a hint to Monsieur Maffre that the Emperor was thinking about decorating him,[Pg 260] and she made a formal promise to Doctor Porquier to find a suitable post for his good-for-nothing son. She showed the most obliging kindliness at the friendly afternoon meetings in the gardens. The summer was now drawing to a close, but she still arrived in light toilettes, shivering slightly and risking a cold, in order to show her arms and overcome the last scruples of the Rastoil party. It was really under the Mourets' arbour that the election was decided.

'Well, my dear sub-prefect,' said Abbé Faujas one day with a smile, when the two sets of guests were mingling together; 'the great battle is drawing near.'

They had now arrived at discussing the political struggle in a quiet friendly way. In the gardens at the back of the houses they cordially grasped each other's hands, while in front of them they still feigned an appearance of hostility. On hearing Abbé Faujas, Madame de Condamin cast a quick glance at Monsieur Péqueur des Saulaies, who bent forward with his habitual elegance and said all in a breath:

'I shall remain in my tent, Monsieur le Curé. I have been fortunate enough to make his excellency understand that it is the duty of the government, in the immediate interests of Plassans, to hold itself aloof. There will be no official candidate.'

Monsieur de Bourdeu turned pale. His eyelids quivered and his hands trembled with delight.

'There will be no official candidate?' cried Monsieur Rastoil, greatly moved by this unexpected news, and departing from the reserve which he generally maintained.

'No,' replied Monsieur Péqueur des Saulaies: 'the town contains a sufficient number of honourable men to make its own choice of a representative.'

He bowed slightly towards Monsieur de Bourdeu, who rose from his seat; and stammered:

'Undoubtedly, undoubtedly.'

While these remarks were being exchanged Abbé Surin had got up a game of 'hot and cold;' and Monsieur Rastoil's daughters and Monsieur Maffre's sons and Séverin were busy hunting for the Abbé's handkerchief, which he had rolled into a ball and hidden. All the young people were flitting about their elders, while the priest called in his falsetto voice:

'Hot! Hot!'

Angéline at length found the handkerchief in Doctor Porquier's gaping pocket, where Abbé Surin had adroitly slipped[Pg 261] it. They all laughed and considered the selection of the hiding-place a very ingenious joke.

'Bourdeu has a chance now,' said Monsieur Rastoil, taking Abbé Faujas aside. 'It is very annoying. I can't tell him so, but we sha'n't vote for him: he has compromised himself too much as an Orleanist.'

'Just look at your son Séverin!' cried Madame de Condamin, interrupting the conversation. 'What a big baby he is! He put the handkerchief under Abbé Bourrette's hat.'

Then she lowered her voice as she continued:

'By the way, I have to congratulate you, Monsieur Rastoil. I have received a letter from Paris, from a correspondent who tells me that he has seen your son's name on an official list. He will be nominated assessor to the public prosecutor at Faverolles, I believe.'

The presiding judge bowed with a flushed face. The minister had never forgiven the election of the Marquis de Lagrifoul. Since then a kind of fatality had seemed to prevent him from finding either a place for his son or husbands for his daughters. He had never uttered any complaints, but his compressed lips had often borne witness to his feelings on the matter.

'I was remarking to you,' he resumed, to conceal his emotion, 'that Bourdeu is dangerous. But he isn't a Plassans man, and he doesn't know our requirements. We might just as well re-elect the Marquis.'

'If Monsieur de Bourdeu persists in his candidature,' rejoined Abbé Faujas, 'the Republicans will poll an imposing minority, which will have a very bad effect.'

Madame de Condamin smiled. She pretended to understand nothing about politics, and slipped away while the Abbé drew the presiding judge aside to the end of the arbour, where they continued the conversation in subdued tones. As they slowly strolled back again, Monsieur Rastoil remarked:

'You are quite right. He would be a very suitable candidate. He belongs to no party, and we could all unite in supporting him. I am no fonder of the Empire than you are, but it would be childish to go on sending deputies to the Chamber for no other purpose than to obstruct and rail at the government. Plassans is suffering from such tactics. What we want is a man with a good head for business, a local man who can look after the interests of the place.'

'Hot! Hot!' now cried Aurélie in her fluty voice.

[Pg 262]

Abbé Surin passed through the arbour at the head of the searchers, hunting for the handkerchief.

'Cold! Cold!' exclaimed the girl, laughing at their lack of success. One of the young Maffres, however, lifted up a flower-pot and there discovered the handkerchief folded in four.

'That big stick Aurélie might have very well crammed it into her mouth,' said Madame Paloque. 'There is plenty of room for it, and no one would ever have thought of looking for it there.'

Her husband reduced her to silence with an angry look. He would no longer allow her to indulge in bitter language. Fearing that Monsieur de Condamin might have overheard her, he exclaimed:

'What a handsome lot of young people!'

'Your success is certain, my dear sir,' the conservator of rivers and forests was saying to Monsieur de Bourdeu. 'But be careful what you do when you get to Paris. I hear from a very trustworthy source that the government has resolved upon taking strong measures if the opposition shows itself too provoking.'

The ex-prefect looked at Monsieur de Condamin very uneasily, wondering if he was making fun of him. Monsieur Péqueur des Saulaies merely smiled, and stroked his moustaches. Then the conversation became general again, and Monsieur de Bourdeu thought he could detect that everyone was congratulating him upon his approaching triumph, with a discretion that was full of tact. He enjoyed the sweets of an hour's imaginary popularity.

'It is surprising how much more quickly the grapes ripen in the sun,' remarked Abbé Bourrette, who had never moved from his chair, but now raised his eyes to the arbour.

'In the north,' Doctor Porquier explained, 'grapes can often only be got to ripen by freeing them from the surrounding leaves.'

They were beginning to discuss this point, when Séverin in his turn cried out: 'Hot! Hot!'

But he had hung the handkerchief with such little concealment upon the garden door that Abbé Surin found it at once. When the Abbé hid it again, the whole troop vainly scoured the garden for nearly half an hour, and at last gave it up. Then the Abbé showed it to them lying in the centre of a flowerbed, rolled up so artistically that it looked like a white stone. This was the most effective stratagem of the afternoon.

[Pg 263]

The news that the government had determined to run no candidate of its own quickly spread through the town, where it gave rise to great excitement. This abstention had the natural effect of disquieting the various political sections, who had each counted upon the diversion of a certain number of votes in favour of the official candidate to enable their own man to win. The Marquis de Lagrifoul, Monsieur de Bourdeu and hatter Maurin appeared to divide the support of the voters pretty equally amongst them. There would certainly be a second ballot, and heaven only could tell what name would then appear at the top of the list. However, there was certainly some talk of a fourth candidate, whose name nobody quite knew, some moderate equable man who would possibly bring the different parties into concord and harmony. The Plassans electors, who had grown a little alarmed since they had felt the imperial bridle about their necks, would have been only too glad to come to an understanding, and choose one of their fellow-citizens who would be acceptable to all parties.

'The government is wrong to treat us like refractory children,' said the politicians of the Commercial Club, in tones of annoyance. 'Anybody would suppose that the town was a hot-bed of revolution. If the authorities had been tactful enough to bring forward the right sort of candidate, we should all have voted for him. The sub-prefect has talked about a lesson. Well, we sha'n't receive the lesson. We shall be able to find a candidate for ourselves, and we will show that Plassans is a town of sound sense and true liberty.'

They then began to look about for a candidate. But the names which were proposed by friends or interested parties only served to increase the confusion. In a week's time there were twenty candidates before Plassans. Madame Rougon, who had become very uneasy, and quite unable to understand the position, went to see Abbé Faujas, full of indignation with the sub-prefect. That Péqueur was an ass, she cried, a fop, a dummy, of no use except as a pretty ornament to the official drawing-room. He had already allowed the government to be defeated, and now he was going to compromise it by an attitude of ridiculous indifference.

'Make yourself easy,' said the priest, with a smile; 'this time Monsieur Péqueur des Saulaies is confining himself to obeying orders. Victory is certain.'

[Pg 264]

'But you've got no candidate!' cried Madame Rougon. 'Where is your candidate?'

Then the priest unfolded his plans to her. She expressed her approval of them; but she received the name which he confided to her with the greatest surprise.

'What!' she exclaimed, 'you have chosen him! No one has ever thought of him, I assure you.'

'I trust that they haven't,' replied the priest, again smiling. 'We want a candidate of whom nobody has ever thought, so that all parties may accept him without fancying that they are compromising themselves.'

Then with the perfect frankness of a shrewd man who has made up his mind to explain his designs, he continued:

'I have very much to thank you for. You have prevented me from making many mistakes. I was looking straight towards the goal, and I did not see the strings that were stretched across the path, and which might, perhaps, have tripped me up and brought me to grief. Thank heaven! all this petty childish struggle is over, and I shall soon be able to move at my ease. As for the choice I have made, it is a good one; you may feel quite assured of that. Ever since my arrival at Plassans, I have been looking about for a man, and he is the only one I have found. He is flexible, very capable, and very energetic. He has been clever enough not to embroil himself with a single person in the place, which is no common accomplishment. I know that you are not a very great friend of his, and that is the reason that I did not confide my plan to you sooner. But you will see that you are mistaken, and that he will make his way rapidly as soon as he gets his foot into the stirrup. What finally determined me in his favour is what I heard about his means. It is said that he has taken his wife back again three separate times, after she had been detected in actual unfaithfulness, and after he had made his good-natured father-in-law pay him a hundred thousand francs on each occasion. If he has really coined money in that way, he will be very useful in Paris in certain matters. You may look about as much as you like; but, putting him aside, there is only a pack of imbeciles in Plassans.'

'Then it is a present you are making to the government?' said Félicité, with a laugh.

She allowed herself to be convinced. The next day the name of Delangre was in everybody's mouth. His friends[Pg 265] declared that it was only after the strongest pressure had been brought to bear upon him that he had accepted the nomination. He had refused it for a long time, considering himself unworthy of the position, insisting that he was not a politician, and that the Marquis de Lagrifoul and Monsieur de Bourdeu had, on the other hand, had long experience of public affairs. Then, when it had been impressed upon him that what Plassans urgently needed was a representative who was unconnected with the political parties, he had allowed himself to be prevailed upon. He explicitly declared the principles upon which he should act if he were returned. It must be thoroughly understood, he said, that he would not go to the Chamber either to oppose or support the government under all circumstances; he should look upon himself solely as the representative of the interests of the town; he would always vote for liberty with order, and order with liberty, and would still remain mayor of Plassans, so that he might show what a conciliatory and purely administrative task he had charged himself with. These views struck people as being singularly sensible. The knowing politicians of the Commercial Club vied with each other that same evening in lauding Delangre.

'I told you so; he is the very man we want. I shall be curious to see what the sub-prefect will say when the mayor's name heads the list. The authorities can scarcely accuse us of having voted like a lot of sulking school-boys, any more than they can reproach us with having gone down on our knees before the government. If the Empire could only receive a few lessons like this, things would go much better.'

The whole thing was like a train of gunpowder. The mine was laid, and a spark was sufficient to set it off. In every part of Plassans simultaneously, in all the three quarters of the town, in every house, and in every family, Monsieur Delangre's name was pronounced amidst unanimous eulogies. He had become the expected Messiah, the saviour, unknown the previous day, revealed in the morning, and worshipped ere night.

Even in the sacristies and confessionals of Plassans, his name was buzzed about; it mingled with the echoes in the naves, sounded from pulpits in the suburbs, was passed on from ear to ear like a sacrament, and made its way into the most distant homes of the pious. The priests carried it about with them in the folds of their cassocks; Abbé Bourrette[Pg 266] bestowed on it the respectable cheeriness of his corporation, Abbé Surin the grace of his smile, and Monseigneur Rousselot the charm of his pastoral blessing. The fashionable ladies were never tired of talking of Monsieur Delangre. He had such a kind disposition, they said, and such a fine sensible face. Madame Rastoil learned to blush again at mention of him; Madame Paloque grew almost pretty in her enthusiasm, while as for Madame de Condamin, she was ready to fight for him, and won all hearts to his side by the tender way in which she pressed the hands of the electors who promised to vote for him. The Young Men's Club, too, grew passionately enthusiastic on his behalf. Séverin made quite a hero of him, and Guillaume and the young Maffres went canvassing for him through all the disreputable parts of the town.

On the day of the election his majority was overwhelming. The whole town seemed to have conspired together to return him. The Marquis de Lagrifoul and Monsieur de Bourdeu, bursting with indignation and crying that they had been betrayed, had retired from the contest, and thus Monsieur Delangre's only opponent was the hatter Maurin. The latter received the votes of some fifteen hundred intractable Republicans of the outskirts of the town; while the mayor had the support of the country districts, the fervent Bonapartists, the townsmen of the new quarter who were amenable to clerical influence, the timid shopkeepers of the old town, and even certain simple-minded Royalists of the district of Saint-Marc, whose aristocratic denizens chiefly abstained from voting. Monsieur Delangre thus obtained thirty-three thousand votes. The business was managed so promptly, the victory was won with such a dash, that Plassans felt quite amazed, on the evening of the election, to find itself so unanimous. The town half fancied that it had just had a wonderful dream, that some powerful hand must have struck the soil and drawn from it those thirty-three thousand electors, that army, almost alarming in its numbers, whose strength no one had ever before suspected. The politicians of the Commercial Club looked at one another in perplexity, like men dazed with victory.

In the evening, Monsieur Rastoil's friends joined those of Monsieur Péqueur des Saulaies, to congratulate each other, in a little drawing-room at the Sub-Prefecture, overlooking the gardens. Tea was served to them. The great victory of the[Pg 267] day ended by a coalition of the two parties. All the usual guests were present.

'I have never systematically opposed any government,' said Monsieur Rastoil, after a time, as he accepted some little cakes which Monsieur Péqueur des Saulaies offered him. 'The judicial bench ought to take no part in political struggles. I willingly admit that the Empire has already accomplished some great things, and that it has a still nobler future before it, if it continues to advance in the paths of justice and liberty.'

The sub-prefect bowed, as though this eulogy was addressed to himself personally. The previous evening, Monsieur Rastoil had read in the 'Moniteur' a decree appointing his son assistant public prosecutor at Faverolles. There was also a good deal of talk about a marriage between his eldest daughter and Lucien Delangre.

'Oh, yes! it is quite settled,' Monsieur de Condamin said in low tones to Madame Paloque, who had just been questioning him upon the subject. 'He has chosen Angéline. I believe that he would rather have had Aurélie, but it has probably been hinted to him that it would not be seemly for the younger sister to be married before the elder one.'

'Angéline! Are you quite sure?' Madame Paloque murmured maliciously. 'I fancy that Angéline has a likeness—'

The conservator of rivers and forests put his finger to his lips, with a smile.

'Well, it's just a toss-up, isn't it?' she continued. 'It will strengthen the ties between the two families. We are all good friends now. Paloque is expecting his cross, and I am quite satisfied with everything.'

Monsieur Delangre did not arrive till late. He received, as newspaper writers say, a perfect ovation. Madame de Condamin had just informed Doctor Porquier that his son Guillaume had been nominated chief clerk at the post-office. She was circulating good news through the room, declaring that Abbé Bourrette would be vicar-general the following year; that Abbé Surin would be a bishop before he was forty, and that Monsieur Maffre was to have a cross.

'Poor Bourdeu!' exclaimed Monsieur Rastoil, with a last sigh of regret.

'Oh, there's no occasion to pity him!' cried Madame de Condamin, gaily. 'I will undertake to console him. He is[Pg 268] not cut out for the Chamber. What he wants is a prefecture. Tell him that he shall have one before long.'

The merriment increased. The fair Octavie's high spirits, and the desire which she showed to please everybody, delighted the company. It was really she who was doing the honours of the Sub-Prefecture. She was the queen of the place. And, while she seemed to be speaking quite playfully, she gave Monsieur Delangre the most practical advice in the world about the part he ought to play in the Corps Législatif. She took him aside and offered to introduce him to several influential people, an offer which he gratefully accepted. About eleven o'clock, Monsieur de Condamin suggested that the garden should be illuminated, but his wife calmed the enthusiasm of the gentlemen, and said that such a course would be inadvisable, for it would not do to appear to be exulting over the town.

'Well, what about Abbé Fenil?' she suddenly asked Abbé Faujas, as she took him aside into one of the window recesses. 'He has not made any movement, has he?'

'Abbé Fenil is a man of sense,' the priest replied. 'It has been hinted to him that he would do well not to interfere in political matters for the future.'

In the midst of all the triumphant joy, Abbé Faujas remained grave. He had won after a hard fight. Madame de Condamin's chatter wearied him; and the satisfaction of these people, with their poor vulgar ambitions, filled him with disdain. As he stood leaning against the mantelpiece, with a far-off look in his eyes, he seemed to be buried in thought. He was master now, and no longer compelled to veil and suppress his real feelings. He could reach out his hand and seize the town, and make it tremble in his grasp. His tall, black figure seemed to fill the room. The guests gradually drew their chairs closer to him, and formed a circle round him. The men awaited some expression of satisfaction from his lips, the women besought him with their eyes, like submissive slaves. But he bluntly broke through the circle and went away the first, saying but a brief word or two as he took his leave.

When he returned to the Mourets' house, going thither by way of the Impasse des Chevillottes and the garden, he found Marthe alone in the dining-room, sitting listlessly on a chair against the wall, looking very pale, and gazing with a blank expression at the lamp, the wick of which was beginning to[Pg 269] char. Upstairs, Trouche was having a party, and could be heard singing a broad comic song, which Olympe and his guests accompanied by striking their glasses with the handles of their knives.