第 11 页

even for another hour. He must sleep at the Asylum to-night."

Fonsegue began to protest. "To-night! But it's impossible, altogether

impossible! There are all sorts of indispensable formalities to be

observed. And besides I alone cannot take such responsibility. I haven't

the power. I am only the manager; all that I do is to execute the orders

of the committee of lady patronesses."

"But it was precisely Baroness Duvillard who sent me to you, monsieur,

telling me that you alone had the necessary authority to grant immediate

admittance in an exceptional case."

"Oh! it was the Baroness who sent you? Ah! that is just like her,

incapable of coming to any decision herself, and far too desirous of her

own quietude to accept any responsibility. Why is it that she wants me to

have the worries? No, no, Monsieur l'Abbe, I certainly won't go against

all our regulations; I won't give an order which would perhaps embroil me

with all those ladies. You don't know them, but they become positively

terrible directly they attend our meetings."

He was growing lively, defending himself with a jocular air, whilst in

secret he was fully determined to do nothing. However, just then Duthil

abruptly reappeared, darting along bareheaded, hastening from lobby to

lobby to recruit absent members, particularly those who were interested

in the grave debate at that moment beginning. "What, Fonsegue!" he cried,

"are you still here? Go, go to your seat at once, it's serious!" And

thereupon he disappeared.

His colleague evinced no haste, however. It was as if the suspicious

affair which was impassioning the Chamber had no concern for him. And he

still smiled, although a slight feverish quiver made him blink. "Excuse

me, Monsieur l'Abbe," he said at last. "You see that my friends have need

of me. I repeat to you that I can do absolutely nothing for your

_protege_."

But Pierre would not accept this reply as a final one. "No, no,

monsieur," he rejoined, "go to your affairs, I will wait for you here.

Don't come to a decision without full reflection. You are wanted, and I

feel that your mind is not sufficiently at liberty for you to listen to

me properly. By-and-by, when you come back and give me your full

attention, I am sure that you will grant me what I ask."

And, although Fonsegue, as he went off, repeated that he could not alter

his decision, the priest stubbornly resolved to make him do so, and sat

down on the bench again, prepared, if needful, to stay there till the

evening. The Salle des Pas Perdus was now almost quite empty, and looked

yet more frigid and mournful with its Laocoon and its Minerva, its bare

commonplace walls like those of a railway-station waiting-room, between

which all the scramble of the century passed, though apparently without

even warming the lofty ceiling. Never had paler and more callous light

entered by the large glazed doors, behind which one espied the little

slumberous garden with its meagre, wintry lawns. And not an echo of the

tempest of the sitting near at hand reached the spot; from the whole

heavy pile there fell but death-like silence, and a covert quiver of

distress that had come from far away, perhaps from the entire country.

It was that which now haunted Pierre's reverie. The whole ancient,

envenomed sore spread out before his mind's eye, with its poison and

virulence. Parliamentary rottenness had slowly increased till it had

begun to attack society itself. Above all the low intrigues and the rush

of personal ambition there certainly remained the loftier struggle of the

contending principles, with history on the march, clearing the past away

and seeking to bring more truth, justice, and happiness in the future.

But in practice, if one only considered the horrid daily cuisine of the

sphere, what an unbridling of egotistical appetite one beheld, what an

absorbing passion to strangle one's neighbour and triumph oneself alone!

Among the various groups one found but an incessant battle for power and

the satisfactions that it gives. "Left," "Right," "Catholics,"

"Republicans," "Socialists," the names given to the parties of twenty

different shades, were simply labels classifying forms of the one burning

thirst to rule and dominate. All questions could be reduced to a single

one, that of knowing whether this man, that man, or that other man should

hold France in his grasp, to enjoy it, and distribute its favours among

his creatures. And the worst was that the outcome of the great

parliamentary battles, the days and the weeks lost in setting this man in

the place of that man, and that other man in the place of this man, was

simply stagnation, for not one of the three men was better than his

fellows, and there were but vague points of difference between them; in

such wise that the new master bungled the very same work as the previous

one had bungled, forgetful, perforce, of programmes and promises as soon

as ever he began to reign.

However, Pierre's thoughts invincibly reverted to Laveuve, whom he had

momentarily forgotten, but who now seized hold of him again with a quiver

as of anger and death. Ah! what could it matter to that poor old wretch,

dying of hunger on his bed of rags, whether Mege should overthrow

Barroux's ministry, and whether a Vignon ministry should ascend to power

or not! At that rate, a century, two centuries, would be needed before

there would be bread in the garrets where groan the lamed sons of labour,

the old, broken-down beasts of burden. And behind Laveuve there appeared

the whole army of misery, the whole multitude of the disinherited and the

poor, who agonised and asked for justice whilst the Chamber, sitting in

all pomp, grew furiously impassioned over the question as to whom the

nation should belong to, as to who should devour it. Mire was flowing on

in a broad stream, the hideous, bleeding, devouring sore displayed itself

in all impudence, like some cancer which preys upon an organ and spreads

to the heart. And what disgust, what nausea must such a spectacle

inspire; and what a longing for the vengeful knife that would bring

health and joy!

Pierre could not have told for how long he had been plunged in this

reverie, when uproar again filled the hall. People were coming back,

gesticulating and gathering in groups. And suddenly he heard little

Massot exclaim near him: "Well, if it isn't down it's not much better

off. I wouldn't give four sous for its chance of surviving."

He referred to the ministry, and began to recount the sitting to a fellow

journalist who had just arrived. Mege had spoken very eloquently, with

extraordinary fury of indignation against the rotten _bourgeoisie_, which

rotted everything it touched; but, as usual, he had gone much too far,

alarming the Chamber by his very violence. And so, when Barroux had

ascended the tribune to ask for a month's adjournment of the

interpellation, he had merely had occasion to wax indignant, in all

sincerity be it said, full of lofty anger that such infamous campaigns

should be carried on by a certain portion of the press. Were the shameful

Panama scandals about to be renewed? Were the national representatives

going to let themselves be intimidated by fresh threats of denunciation?

It was the Republic itself which its adversaries were seeking to submerge

beneath a flood of abominations. No, no, the hour had come for one to

collect one's thoughts, and work in quietude without allowing those who

hungered for scandal to disturb the public peace. And the Chamber,

impressed by these words, fearing, too, lest the electorate should at

last grow utterly weary of the continuous overflow of filth, had

adjourned the interpellation to that day month. However, although Vignon

had not personally intervened in the debate, the whole of his group had

voted against the ministry, with the result that the latter had merely

secured a majority of two votes--a mockery.

"But in that case they will resign," said somebody to Massot.

"Yes, so it's rumoured. But Barroux is very tenacious. At all events if

they show any obstinacy they will be down before a week is over,

particularly as Sagnier, who is quite furious, declares that he will

publish the list of names to-morrow."

Just then, indeed, Barroux and Monferrand were seen to pass, hastening

along with thoughtful, busy mien, and followed by their anxious clients.

It was said that the whole Cabinet was about to assemble to consider the

position and come to a decision. And then Vignon, in his turn, reappeared

amidst a stream of friends. He, for his part, was radiant, with a joy

which he sought to conceal, calming his friends in his desire not to cry

victory too soon. However, the eyes of the band glittered, like those of

a pack of hounds when the moment draws near for the offal of the quarry

to be distributed. And even Mege also looked triumphant. He had all but

overthrown the ministry. That made another one that was worn out, and

by-and-by he would wear out Vignon's, and at last govern in his turn.

"The devil!" muttered little Massot, "Chaigneux and Duthil look like

whipped dogs. And see, there's nobody who is worth the governor. Just

look at him, how superb he is, that Fonsegue! But good-by, I must now be

off!"

Then he shook hands with his brother journalist unwilling as he was to

remain any longer, although the sitting still continued, some bill of

public importance again being debated before the rows of empty seats.

Chaigneux, with his desolate mien, had gone to lean against the pedestal

of the high figure of Minerva; and never before had he been more bowed

down by his needy distress, the everlasting anguish of his ill-luck. On

the other hand, Duthil, in spite of everything, was perorating in the

centre of a group with an affectation of scoffing unconcern; nevertheless

nervous twitches made his nose pucker and distorted his mouth, while the

whole of his handsome face was becoming moist with fear. And even as

Massot had said, there really was only Fonsegue who showed composure and

bravery, ever the same with his restless little figure, and his eyes

beaming with wit, though at times they were just faintly clouded by a

shadow of uneasiness.

Pierre had risen to renew his request; but Fonsegue forestalled him,

vivaciously exclaiming: "No, no, Monsieur l'Abbe, I repeat that I cannot

take on myself such an infraction of our rules. There was an inquiry, and

a decision was arrived at. How would you have me over-rule it?"

"Monsieur," said the priest, in a tone of deep grief, "it is a question

of an old man who is hungry and cold, and in danger of death if he be not

succoured."

With a despairing gesture, the director of "Le Globe" seemed to take the

very walls as witnesses of his powerlessness. No doubt he feared some

nasty affair for his newspaper, in which he had abused the Invalids of

Labour enterprise as an electoral weapon. Perhaps, too, the secret terror

into which the sitting of the Chamber had just thrown him was hardening

his heart. "I can do nothing," he repeated. "But naturally I don't ask

better than to have my hands forced by the ladies of the Committee. You

already have the support of the Baroness Duvillard, secure that of some

others."

Pierre, who was determined to fight on to the very end, saw in this

suggestion a supreme chance. "I know the Countess de Quinsac," he said,

"I can go to see her at once."

"Quite so! an excellent idea, the Countess de Quinsac! Take a cab and go

to see the Princess de Harn as well. She bestirs herself a great deal,

and is becoming very influential. Secure the approval of these ladies, go

back to the Baroness's at seven, get a letter from her to cover me, and

then call on me at the office of my paper. That done, your man shall

sleep at the Asylum at nine o'clock!"

He evinced in speaking a kind of joyous good nature, as though he no

longer doubted of success now that he ran no risk of compromising

himself. And great hope again came back to the priest: "Ah! thank you,

monsieur," he said; "it is a work of salvation that you will accomplish."

"But you surely know that I ask nothing better. Ah! if we could only cure

misery, prevent hunger and thirst by a mere word. However, make haste,

you have not a minute to lose."

They shook hands, and Pierre at once tried to get out of the throng.

This, however, was no easy task, for the various groups had grown larger

as all the anger and anguish, roused by the recent debate, ebbed back

there amid a confused tumult. It was as when a stone, cast into a pool,

stirs the ooze below, and causes hidden, rotting things to rise once more

to the surface. And Pierre had to bring his elbows into play and force a

passage athwart the throng, betwixt the shivering cowardice of some, the

insolent audacity of others, and the smirchings which sullied the greater

number, given the contagion which inevitably prevailed. However, he

carried away a fresh hope, and it seemed to him that if he should save a

life, make but one man happy that day, it would be like a first

instalment of redemption, a sign that a little forgiveness would be

extended to the many follies and errors of that egotistical and

all-devouring political world.

On reaching the vestibule a final incident detained him for a moment

longer. Some commotion prevailed there following upon a quarrel between a

man and an usher, the latter of whom had prevented the former from

entering on finding that the admission ticket which he tendered was an

old one, with its original date scratched out. The man, very rough at the

outset, had then refrained from insisting, as if indeed sudden timidity

had come upon him. And in this ill-dressed fellow Pierre was astonished

to recognise Salvat, the journeyman engineer, whom he had seen going off