第 44 页

around his lips, and at last as if vanquished he sought no further.

"There's no help for it," said he, "the ministry's down."

The others exchanged glances, full of anxiety at the thought of another

Cabinet dealing with the African Railways affair. A Vignon Cabinet would

doubtless plume itself on behaving honestly.

"Well, then, what shall we do?"

But just then the telephone rang, and Monferrand rose to respond to the

summons: "Allow me."

He listened for a moment and then spoke into the tube, nothing that he

said giving the others any inkling of the information which had reached

him. This had come from the Chief of the Detective Police, and was to the

effect that Salvat's whereabouts in the Bois de Boulogne had been

discovered, and that he would be hunted down with all speed. "Very good!

And don't forget my orders," replied Monferrand.

Now that Salvat's arrest was certain, the Minister determined to follow

the plan which had gradually taken shape in his mind; and returning to

the middle of the room he slowly walked to and fro, while saying with his

wonted familiarity: "But what would you have, my friends? It would be

necessary for me to be the master. Ah! if I were the master! A Commission

of Inquiry, yes! that's the proper form for a first-class funeral to take

in a big affair like this, so full of nasty things. For my part, I should

confess nothing, and I should have a Commission appointed. And then you

would see the storm subside."

Duvillard and Fonsegue began to laugh. The latter, however, thanks to his

intimate knowledge of Monferrand, almost guessed the truth. "Just

listen!" said he; "even if the ministry falls it doesn't necessarily

follow that you must be on the ground with it. Besides, a ministry can be

mended when there are good pieces of it left."

Somewhat anxious at finding his thoughts guessed, Monferrand protested:

"No, no, my dear fellow, I don't play that game. We are jointly

responsible, we've got to keep together, dash it all!"

"Keep together! Pooh! Not when simpletons purposely drown themselves!

And, besides, if we others have need of you, we have a right to save you

in spite of yourself! Isn't that so, my dear Baron?"

Then, as Monferrand sat down, no longer protesting but waiting,

Duvillard, who was again thinking of his passion, full of anger at the

recollection of Barroux' refusal, rose in his turn, and exclaimed: "Why,

certainly! If the ministry's condemned let it fall! What good can you get

out of a ministry which includes such a man as Taboureau! There you have

an old, worn-out professor without any prestige, who comes to Paris from

Grenoble, and has never set foot in a theatre in his life! Yet the

control of the theatres is handed over to him, and naturally he's ever

doing the most stupid things!"

Monferrand, who was well informed on the Silviane question, remained

grave, and for a moment amused himself by trying to excite the Baron.

"Taboureau," said he, "is a somewhat dull and old-fashioned University

man, but at the department of Public Instruction he's in his proper

element."

"Oh! don't talk like that, my dear fellow! You are more intelligent than

that, you are not going to defend Taboureau as Barroux did. It's quite

true that I should very much like to see Silviane at the Comedie. She's a

very good girl at heart, and she has an amazing lot of talent. Would you

stand in her way if you were in Taboureau's place?"

"I? Good heavens, no! A pretty girl on the stage, why, it would please

everybody, I'm sure. Only it would be necessary to have a man of the same

views as were at the department of Instruction and Fine Arts."

His sly smile had returned to his face. The securing of that girl's

_debut_ was certainly not a high price to pay for all the influence of

Duvillard's millions. Monferrand therefore turned towards Fonsegue as if

to consult him. The other, who fully understood the importance of the

affair, was meditating in all seriousness: "A senator is the proper man

for Public Instruction," said he. "But I can think of none, none at all,

such as would be wanted. A man of broad mind, a real Parisian, and yet

one whose presence at the head of the University wouldn't cause too much

astonishment--there's perhaps Dauvergne--"

"Dauvergne! Who's he?" exclaimed Monferrand in surprise. "Ah! yes,

Dauvergne the senator for Dijon--but he's altogether ignorant of

University matters, he hasn't the slightest qualification."

"Well, as for that," resumed Fonsegue, "I'm trying to think. Dauvergne is

certainly a good-looking fellow, tall and fair and decorative. Besides,

he's immensely rich, has a most charming young wife--which does no harm,

on the contrary--and he gives real _fetes_ at his place on the Boulevard

St. Germain."

It was only with hesitation that Fonsegue himself had ventured to suggest

Dauvergne. But by degrees his selection appeared to him a real "find."

"Wait a bit! I recollect now that in his young days Dauvergne wrote a

comedy, a one act comedy in verse, and had it performed at Dijon. And

Dijon's a literary town, you know, so that piece of his sets a little

perfume of 'Belles-Lettres' around him. And then, too, he left Dijon

twenty years ago, and is a most determined Parisian, frequenting every

sphere of society. Dauvergne will do whatever one desires. He's the man

for us, I tell you."

Duvillard thereupon declared that he knew him, and considered him a very

decent fellow. Besides, he or another, it mattered nothing!

"Dauvergne, Dauvergne," repeated Monferrand. "_Mon Dieu_, yes! After all,

why not? He'll perhaps make a very good minister. Let us say Dauvergne."

Then suddenly bursting into a hearty laugh: "And so we are reconstructing

the Cabinet in order that that charming young woman may join the Comedie!

The Silviane cabinet--well, and what about the other departments?"

He jested, well knowing that gaiety often hastens difficult solutions.

And, indeed, they merrily continued settling what should be done if the

ministry were defeated on the morrow. Although they had not plainly said

so the plan was to let Barroux sink, even help him to do so, and then

fish Monferrand out of the troubled waters. The latter engaged himself

with the two others, because he had need of them, the Baron on account of

his financial sovereignty, and the director of "Le Globe" on account of

the press campaign which he could carry on in his favour. And in the same

way the others, quite apart from the Silviane business, had need of

Monferrand, the strong-handed man of government, who undertook to bury

the African Railways scandal by bringing about a Commission of Inquiry,

all the strings of which would be pulled by himself. There was soon a

perfect understanding between the three men, for nothing draws people

more closely together than common interest, fear and need. Accordingly,

when Duvillard spoke of Duthil's business, the young lady whom he wished

to recommend, the Minister declared that it was settled. A very nice

fellow was Duthil, they needed a good many like him. And it was also

agreed that Chaigneux' future son-in-law should have his secretaryship.

Poor Chaigneux! He was so devoted, always ready to undertake any

commission, and his four women folk led him such a hard life!

"Well, then, it's understood." And Monferrand, Duvillard and Fonsegue

vigorously shook hands.

However, when the first accompanied the others to the door, he noticed a

prelate, in a cassock of fine material, edged with violet, speaking to a

priest in the ante-room. Thereupon he, the Minister, hastened forward,

looking much distressed. "Ah! you were waiting, Monseigneur Martha! Come

in, come in quick!"

But with perfect urbanity the Bishop refused. "No, no, Monsieur l'Abbe

Froment was here before me. Pray receive him first."

Monferrand had to give way; he admitted the priest, and speedily dealt

with him. He who usually employed the most diplomatic reserve when he was

in presence of a member of the clergy plumply unfolded the Barthes

business. Pierre had experienced the keenest anguish during the two hours

that he had been waiting there, for he could only explain the letter he

had received by a surmise that the police had discovered his brother's

presence in his house. And so when he heard the Minister simply speak of

Barthes, and declare that the government would rather see him go into

exile than be obliged to imprison him once more, he remained for a moment

quite disconcerted. As the police had been able to discover the old

conspirator in the little house at Neuilly, how was it that they seemed

altogether ignorant of Guillaume's presence there? It was, however, the

usual gap in the genius of great detectives.

"Pray what do you desire of me, Monsieur le Ministre?" said Pierre at

last; "I don't quite understand."

"Why, Monsieur l'Abbe, I leave all this to your sense of prudence. If

that man were still at your house in forty-eight hours from now, we

should be obliged to arrest him there, which would be a source of grief

to us, for we are aware that your residence is the abode of every virtue.

So advise him to leave France. If he does that we shall not trouble him."

Then Monferrand hastily brought Pierre back to the ante-room; and,

smiling and bending low, he said: "Monseigneur, I am entirely at your

disposal. Come in, come in, I beg you."

The prelate, who was gaily chatting with Duvillard and Fonsegue, shook

hands with them, and then with Pierre. In his desire to win all hearts,

he that morning displayed the most perfect graciousness. His bright,

black eyes were all smiles, the whole of his handsome face wore a

caressing expression, and he entered the ministerial sanctum leisurely

and gracefully, with an easy air of conquest.

And now only Monferrand and Monseigneur Martha were left, talking on and

on in the deserted building. Some people had thought that the prelate

wished to become a deputy. But he played a far more useful and lofty part

in governing behind the scenes, in acting as the directing mind of the

Vatican's policy in France. Was not France still the Eldest Daughter of

the Church, the only great nation which might some day restore

omnipotence to the Papacy? For that reason he had accepted the Republic,

preached the duty of "rallying" to it, and inspired the new Catholic

group in the Chamber. And Monferrand, on his side, struck by the progress

of the New Spirit, that reaction of mysticism which flattered itself that

it would bury science, showed the prelate much amiability, like a

strong-handed man who, to ensure his own victory, utilised every force

that was offered him.

IV. THE MAN HUNT

ON the afternoon of that same day such a keen desire for space and the

open air came upon Guillaume, that Pierre consented to accompany him on a

long walk in the Bois de Boulogne. The priest, upon returning from his

interview with Monferrand, had informed his brother that the government

once more wished to get rid of Nicholas Barthes. However, they were so

perplexed as to how they should impart these tidings to the old man, that

they resolved to postpone the matter until the evening. During their walk

they might devise some means of breaking the news in a gentle way. As for

the walk, this seemed to offer no danger; to all appearance Guillaume was

in no wise threatened, so why should he continue hiding? Thus the

brothers sallied forth and entered the Bois by the Sablons gate, which

was the nearest to them.

The last days of March had now come, and the trees were beginning to show

some greenery, so soft and light, however, that one might have thought it

was pale moss or delicate lace hanging between the stems and boughs.

Although the sky remained of an ashen grey, the rain, after falling

throughout the night and morning, had ceased; and exquisite freshness

pervaded that wood now awakening to life once more, with its foliage

dripping in the mild and peaceful atmosphere. The mid-Lent rejoicings had

apparently attracted the populace to the centre of Paris, for in the

avenues one found only the fashionable folks of select days, the people

of society who come thither when the multitude stops away. There were

carriages and gentlemen on horseback; beautiful aristocratic ladies who

had alighted from their broughams or landaus; and wet-nurses with

streaming ribbons, who carried infants wearing the most costly lace. Of

the middle-classes, however, one found only a few matrons living in the

neighbourhood, who sat here and there on the benches busy with embroidery

or watching their children play.

Pierre and Guillaume followed the Allee de Longchamp as far as the road

going from Madrid to the lakes. Then they took their way under the trees,

alongside the little Longchamp rivulet. They wished to reach the lakes,

pass round them, and return home by way of the Maillot gate. But so

charming and peaceful was the deserted plantation through which they

passed, that they yielded to a desire to sit down and taste the delight

of resting amidst all the budding springtide around them. A fallen tree

served them as a bench, and it was possible for them to fancy themselves

far away from Paris, in the depths of some real forest. It was, too, of a

real forest that Guillaume began to think on thus emerging from his long,

voluntary imprisonment. Ah! for the space; and for the health-bringing

air which courses between that forest's branches, that forest of the

world which by right should be man's inalienable domain! However, the

name of Barthes, the perpetual prisoner, came back to Guillaume's lips,

and he sighed mournfully. The thought that there should be even a single

man whose liberty was thus ever assailed, sufficed to poison the pure