“Well, monsieur, I desire to place at his disposition an instrument the value of which I am confident you will not underestimate. The ‘Echo de la Bievre,’ a specialist paper, can have a decisive influence on the election in that quarter.”
“And you would be disposed,” asked la Peyrade, “to make that paper support Monsieur Thuillier’s candidacy?”
“Better than that,” replied Lousteau. “I have come to propose to Monsieur Thuillier that he purchase the paper itself. Once the proprietor of it he can use it as he pleases.”
“But in the first place,” said la Peyrade, “what is the present condition of the enterprise? In its character as a specialist journal — as you called it just now — it is a sheet I have seldom met with; in fact, it would be entirely unknown to me were it not for the remarkable article you were so good as to devote to Thuillier’s defence at the time his pamphlet was seized.”
Etienne Lousteau bowed his thanks, and then said:
“The position of the paper is excellent; we can give it to you on easy terms, for we were intending shortly to stop the publication.”
“That is strange for a prosperous journal.”
“On the contrary, it happens to be quite natural. The founders, who were all representatives of the great leather interest, started this paper for a special object. That object has been attained. The ‘Echo de la Bievre’ has therefore become an effect without a cause. In such a case, stockholders who don’t like the tail end of matters, and are not eager after small profits, very naturally prefer to sell out.”
“But,” asked la Peyrade, “does the paper pay its costs?”
“That,” replied Lousteau, “is a point we did not consider; we were not very anxious to have subscribers; the mainspring of the whole affair was direct and immediate action on the ministry of commerce to obtain a higher duty on the introduction of foreign leathers. You understand that outside of the tannery circle, this interest was not very exciting to the general reader.”
“I should have thought, however,” persisted la Peyrade, “that a newspaper, however circumscribed its action, would be a lever which depended for its force on the number of its subscribers.”
“Not for journals which aim for a single definite thing,” replied Lousteau, dogmatically. “In that case, subscribers are, on the contrary, an embarrassment, for you have to please and amuse them, and in so doing, the real object has to be neglected. A newspaper which has a definite and circumscribed object ought to be like the stroke of that pendulum which, striking steadily on one spot, fires at a given hour the cannon of the Palais-Royal.”
“At any rate,” said la Peyrade, “what price do you put upon a publication which has no subscribers, does not pay its expenses, and has until now been devoted to a purpose totally different from that you propose for it?”
“Before answering,” returned Lousteau, “I shall ask you another question. Have you any intention of buying it?”
“That’s according to circumstances,” replied la Peyrade. “Of course I must see Thuillier; but I may here remark to you that he knows absolutely nothing about newspaper business. With his rather bourgeois ideas, the ownership of a newspaper will seem to him a ruinous speculation. Therefore, if, in addition to an idea that will scare him, you suggest an alarming price, it is useless for me to speak to him. I am certain he would never go into the affair.”
“No,” replied Lousteau. “I have told you we should be reasonable; these gentlemen have left the whole matter in my hands. Only, I beg to remark that we have had propositions from other parties, and in giving Monsieur Thuillier this option, we intended to pay him a particular courtesy. When can I have your answer?”
“To-morrow, I think; shall I have the honor of seeing you at your own house, or at the office of the journal?”
“No,” said Lousteau, “to-morrow I will come here, at the same hour, if that is convenient to you.”
“Perfectly,” replied la Peyrade, bowing out his visitor, whom he was inclined to think more consequential than able.
By the manner in which the barrister had received the proposition to become an intermediary to Thuillier, the reader must have seen that a rapid revolution had taken place in his ideas. Even if he had not received that extremely disquieting letter from the president of the order of barristers, the new situation in which Thuillier would be placed if elected to the Chamber gave him enough to think about. Evidently his dear good friend would have to come back to him, and Thuillier’s eagerness for election would deliver him over, bound hand and foot. Was it not the right moment to attempt to renew his marriage with Celeste? Far from being an obstacle to the good resolutions inspired by his amorous disappointment and his incipient brain fever, such a finale would ensure their continuance and success. Moreover, if he received, as he feared, one of those censures which would ruin his dawning prospects at the bar, it was with the Thuilliers, the accomplices and beneficiaries of the cause of his fall, that his instinct led him to claim an asylum.
With these thoughts stirring in his mind la Peyrade obeyed the summons and went to see the president of the order of barristers.
He was not mistaken; a very circumstantial statement of his whole proceeding in the matter of the house had been laid before his brethren of the bar; and the highest dignitary of the order, after stating that an anonymous denunciation ought always to be received with great distrust, told him that he was ready to receive and welcome an explanation. La Peyrade dared not entrench himself in absolute denial; the hand from which he believed the blow had come seemed to him too resolute and too able not to hold the proofs as well. But, while admitting the facts in general, he endeavored to give them an acceptable coloring. In this, he saw that he had failed, when the president said to him: —
“After the vacation which is now beginning I shall report to the Council of the order the charges made against you, and the statements by which you have defended yourself. The Council alone has the right to decide on a matter of such importance.”
Thus dismissed, la Peyrade felt that his whole future at the bar was imperilled; but at least he had a respite, and in case of condemnation a new project on which to rest his head. Accordingly, he put on his gown, which he had never worn till now, and went to the fifth court-room, where he was employed upon a case.
As he left the court-room, carrying one of those bundles of legal papers held together by a strip of cotton which, being too voluminous to hold under the arm, are carried by the hand and the forearm pressed against the chest, la Peyrade began to pace about the Salle des Pas perdus with that harassed look of business which denotes a lawyer overwhelmed with work. Whether he had really excited himself in pleading, or whether he was pretending to be exhausted to prove that his gown was not a dignity for show, as it was with many of his legal brethren, but an armor buckled on for the fight, it is certain that, handkerchief in hand, he was mopping his forehead as he walked, when, in the distance, he spied Thuillier, who had evidently just caught sight of him, and was beginning on his side to manoeuvre.
La Peyrade was not surprised by the encounter. On leaving home he had told Madame Coffinet he was going to the Palais, and should be there till three o’clock, and she might send to him any persons who called on business. Not wishing to let Thuillier accost him too easily, he turned abruptly, as if some thought had changed his purpose, and went and seated himself on one of the benches which surround the walls of that great antechamber of Justice. There he undid his bundle, took out a paper, and buried himself in it with the air of a man who had not had time to examine in his study a case he was about to plead. It is not necessary to say that while doing this the Provencal was watching the manoeuvres of Thuillier out of the corner of his eye. Thuillier, believing that la Peyrade was really occupied in some serious business, hesitated to approach him.
However, after sundry backings and fillings the municipal councillor made up his mind, and sailing straight before the wind he headed for the spot he had been reconnoitring for the last t
en minutes.
“Bless me, Theodose!” he cried as soon as he had got within hailing distance. “Do you come to the Palais now?”
“It seems to me,” replied Theodose, “that barristers at the Palais are like Turks at Constantinople, where a friend of mine affirmed you could see a good many. It is YOU whom it is rather surprising to see here.”
“Not at all,” said Thuillier, carelessly. “I’ve come about that cursed pamphlet. Is there ever any end to your legal bothers? I was summoned here this morning, but I don’t regret it, as it gives me the happy chance of meeting you.”
“I, too,” said la Peyrade, tying up his bundle. “I am very glad to see you, but I must leave you now; I have an appointment, and I suppose you want to do your business at once.”
“I have done it,” said Thuillier.
“Did you speak to Olivier Vinet, that mortal enemy of yours? he sits in that court,” asked la Peyrade.
“No,” said Thuillier, naming another official.
“Well, that’s queer!” said the barrister; “that fellow must have the gift of ubiquity; he has been all the morning in the fifth court-room, and has just this minute given a judgment on a case I pleaded.”
Thuillier colored, and got out of his hobble as best he could. “Oh, hang it!” he said; “those men in gowns are all alike, I don’t know one from another.”
La Peyrade shrugged his shoulders and said aloud, but as if to himself: “Always the same; crafty, crooked, never straightforward.”
“Whom are you talking about?” asked Thuillier, rather nonplussed.
“Why, of you, my dear fellow, who take me for an imbecile, as if I and the whole world didn’t know that your pamphlet business came to an end two weeks ago. Why, then, summon you to court?”
“Well, I was sent for,” said Thuillier, with embarrassment; “something about registry fees, — it is all Greek to me, I can’t comprehend their scrawls.”
“And they chose,” said la Peyrade, “precisely the very day when the Moniteur, announcing the dissolution of the Chamber, made you think about being a candidate for the 12th arrondissement.”
“Why not?” asked Thuillier, “what has my candidacy to do with the fees I owe to the court?”
“I’ll tell you,” said la Peyrade, dryly. “The court is a thing essentially amiable and complaisant. ‘Tiens!’ it said to itself, ‘here’s this good Monsieur Thuillier going to be a candidate for the Chamber; how hampered he’ll be by his attitude to his ex-friend Monsieur de la Peyrade, with whom he wishes now he hadn’t quarrelled. I’ll summon him for fees he doesn’t owe; that will bring him to the Palais where la Peyrade comes daily; and in that way he can meet him by chance, and so avoid taking a step which would hurt his self-love.”
“Well, there you are mistaken!” cried Thuillier, breaking the ice. “I used so little craft, as you call it, that I’ve just come from your house, there! and your portress told me where to find you.”
“Well done!” said la Peyrade, “I like this frankness; I can get on with men who play above-board. Well, what do you want of me? Have you come to talk about your election? I have already begun to work for it.”
“No, really?” said Thuillier, “how?”
“Here,” replied la Peyrade, feeling under his gown for his pocket and bringing out a paper, “here’s what I scribbled just now in the court-room while the lawyer on the other side rambled on like an expert.”
“What is it about?” asked Thuillier.
“Read and you’ll see.”
The paper read as follows: —
Estimate for a newspaper, small size, at thirty francs a year.
Calculating the editions at 5,000 the costs are: —
Paper, 5 reams at 12 francs . . . . . . . . . . 1,860 francs.
Composition . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2,400 “
Printing . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 450 “
One administrator . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 250 “
One clerk . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 100 “
One editor (also cashier) . . . . . . . . . . . 200 “
One despatcher . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 100 “
Folders . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 120 “
One office boy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 80 “
Office expenses . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 150 “
Rent . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 100 “
License and postage . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7,500 “
Reporting and stenographic news . . . . . . . . 1,800 “
— — — — -
Total monthly, 15,110 “
“ yearly, 181,320 “
“Do you want to set up a paper?” asked Thuillier, in dread.
“I?” asked la Peyrade, “I want nothing at all; you are the one to be asked if you want to be a deputy.”
“Undoubtedly I do; because, when you urged me to become a municipal councillor, you put the idea into my head. But reflect, my dear Theodose, one hundred and eighty one thousand three hundred and twenty francs to put out! Have I a fortune large enough to meet such a demand?”
“Yes,” said la Peyrade, “you could very well support that expense, for considering the end you want to obtain there is nothing exorbitant in it. In England they make much greater sacrifices to get a seat in Parliament; but in any case, I beg you to observe that the costs are very high on that estimate, and some could be cut off altogether. For instance, you would not want an administrator. You, yourself, an old accountant, and I, an old journalist, can very well manage the affair between us. Also rent, we needn’t count that; you have your old apartment in the rue Saint-Dominique which is not yet leased; that will make a fine newspaper office.”
“All that costs off two thousand four hundred francs a year,” said Thuillier.
“Well, that’s something; but your error consists in calculating on the yearly cost. When do the elections take place?”
“In two months,” said Thuillier.
“Very good; two months will cost you thirty thousand francs, even supposing the paper had no subscribers.”
“True,” said Thuillier, “the expense is certainly less than I thought at first. But does a newspaper really seem to you essential?”
“So essential that without that power in our hands, I won’t have anything to do with the election. You don’t seem to see, my poor fellow, that in going to live in the other quarter you have lost, electorally speaking, an immense amount of ground. You are no longer the man of the place, and your election could be balked by the cry of what the English call ‘absenteeism.’ This makes your game very hard to play.”
“I admit that,” said Thuillier; “but there are so many things wanted besides money, — a name for one thing, a manager, editorial staff, and so forth.”
“A name, we have one made to hand; editors, they are you and I and a few young fellows who grow on every bush in Paris. As for the manager, I have a man in view.”
“What name is it?” asked Thuillier.
“L’Echo de la Bievre.”
“But there is already a paper of that name.”
“Precisely, and that’s why I give my approval to the affair. Do you think I should be fool enough to advise you to start an entirely new paper? ‘Echo de la Bievre!’ that title is a treasure to a man who wants support for his candidacy in the 12th arrondissement. Say the word only, and I put that treasure into your hands.”
“How?” asked Thuillier, with curiosity.
“Parbleu! by buying it; it can be had for a song.”
“There now, you see,” said Thuillier in a discouraged tone; “you never counted in the cost of purchase.”
“How you dwell on nothings!” said la Peyrade, hunching his shoulders; “we have other and more important difficulties to solve.”
“Other difficulties?” echoed Thuillier.
“Parbleu!” exclaimed la Peyrade; “do you suppose that after all that has taken place bet
ween us I should boldly harness myself to your election without knowing exactly what benefit I am to get for it?”
“But,” said Thuillier, rather astonished, “I thought that friendship was a good exchange for such services.”
“Yes; but when the exchange consists in one side giving all and the other side nothing, friendship gets tired of that sort of sharing, and asks for something a little better balanced.”
“But, my dear Theodose, what have I to offer you that you have not already rejected?”
“I rejected it, because it was offered without heartiness, and seasoned with Mademoiselle Brigitte’s vinegar; every self-respecting man would have acted as I did. Give and keep don’t pass, as the old legal saying is; but that is precisely what you persist in doing.”
“I! — I think you took offence very unreasonably; but the engagement might be renewed.”
“So be it,” replied la Peyrade; “but I will not put myself at the mercy of either the success of the election or Mademoiselle Celeste’s caprices. I claim the right to something positive and certain. Give and take; short accounts make good friends.”
“I perfectly agree with you,” said Thuillier, “and I have always treated you with too much good faith to fear any of these precautions you now want to take. But what guarantees do you want?”
“I want that the husband of Celeste should manage your election, and not Theodose de la Peyrade.”
“By hurrying things as much as possible, so Brigitte said, it would still take fifteen days; and just think, with the elections only eight weeks off, to lose two of them doing nothing!”
“Day after to-morrow,” replied la Peyrade, “the banns can be published for the first time at the mayor’s office, in the intervals of publication some things could be done, for though the publishing of the banns is not a step from which there is no retreat, it is at least a public pledge and a long step taken; after that we can get your notary to draw the contract at once. Moreover, if you decide on buying this newspaper, I shouldn’t be afraid that you would go back on me, for you don’t want a useless horse in your stable, and without me I am certain you can’t manage him.”
Works of Honore De Balzac Page 834