Complete Works of Anatole France

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by Anatole France


  He asked the head waiter whether he knew the lady and gentleman.

  “I know them in a kind of way,” replied the waiter. “They often come here, but I don’t know their names. We see so many people! On Saturday the place was crowded. There were covers all over the grass and under the trees, as far as the hedge that encloses the lawn.”

  “Really?” said Monsieur Bergeret. “There were covers under all those trees?”

  “Yes, and on the terrace as well, and in the kiosk.”

  Busily cracking almonds, Monsieur Mazure had not noticed the muslin dress. He inquired which lady they were speaking of. Monsieur Bergeret, however, decided to keep Madame de Gromance’s secret, and made no reply.

  Night had fallen. Here and there a lamp whose radiance was softened by a shade of white or pink paper marked the position of a table and revealed shapes surrounded by faint haloes of light. Beneath one of these discreet lights the little white plume surmounting a straw hat was drawing closer and closer to the gleaming cranium of an elderly man. At the next table were two youthful faces, more unsubstantial than the moths that fluttered around them. Not in vain was the white round shape of the moon ascending the paling sky.

  “I trust you are satisfied, gentlemen,” said the head waiter.

  And without waiting for a reply he directed his vigilant steps elsewhere.

  “Look at those people dining in the kindly darkness,” said Monsieur Bergeret with a smile. “Those little white plumes, and right at the back, under that great tree, those roses on a Louis Quatorze straw hat. They are eating, drinking and making love, and to this man they are nothing but covers! They have instincts and desires, even thoughts perhaps, and they are covers! What strength of mind and of language! This knight of the appetite is a great man.”

  “We have had a very pleasant dinner,” said Monsieur Mazure, rising. “This restaurant is frequented by the very smartest people.”

  “Their smartness,” replied Monsieur Bergeret, “was possibly not of the highest category. But some of them, certainly, were graceful and charming enough. I must confess, however, that it gives me less pleasure to contemplate these fashionable folk since a vile conspiracy has aroused the sickly fanaticism and thoughtless cruelty of their poor little brains. The Affair has revealed the moral sickness with which our fashionable society is afflicted, just as the vaccine of Koch discovers the lesions of tuberculosis in an infected organism. Fortunately the depths of the human ocean lie beneath this gilded scum. But when will my country be delivered from ignorance and hatred?”

  CHAPTER X

  THE Baronne Jules, the widow of the great Baron and the mother of the little Baron, had lost, under circumstances which are familiar to us, her lover Raoul Marcien. She was too tender-hearted to live alone, and it would have been a pity had she done so. It came to pass that one summer night, between the Bois and the Étoile, she took unto herself a new lover. It is fitting to record this fact, as it is not unconnected with public affairs.

  The Baronne Jules de Bonmont, who had spent the month of June at Montil, on the banks of the Loire, was passing through Paris on her way to Gmunden. Her house being shut up, she dined at one of the restaurants in the Bois with her brother, Baron Wallstein, Monsieur and Madame de Gromance, Monsieur de Terremondre, and young Lacrisse, who like herself were passing through Paris.

  As they all moved in good society they were all Nationalists, Baron Wallstein as much as any of them. An Austrian Jew, expelled from his country by the Viennese anti-Semites, he had settled in France, where he founded a well-known anti-Semite paper and took refuge in the friendship of the Church and the Army. Monsieur de Terremondre, a gentleman of the lesser nobility, and a small landowner, displayed just enough clerical and military enthusiasm to be able to identify himself with the superior territorial aristocracy with which he associated. The Gromances had too much interest in the return of the monarchy not to desire it seriously. Their financial situation was very precarious. Madame de Gromance, who was pretty, well-made, and mistress of her own actions, had so far kept free of the Affair, but her husband, who was no longer young, and was fast approaching the age when a man feels the need of comfort, security and consideration, sighed for better days and impatiently awaited the advent of the King. He was confident that he would be created a peer of France by the restored Philippe. He based his right to a seat in the Luxembourg on his loyalty to the Throne, and entered the ranks of Monsieur Méline’s republicans, whom the King, if he wished to secure them, would have to reward. Young Lacrisse was secretary to the league of the Royalist youth of the department in which the Baronne had estates and the Gromances creditors. Seated at the little table under the trees, lit by candles whose pink shades were surrounded by swooping moths, these five felt that they were united by a single idea, which Joseph Lacrisse happily expressed by saying:

  “France must be saved.”

  It was the day of vast projects and stupendous hopes. They had, it is true, lost President Faure and the Minister Méline, who — the former strutting in dress-coat and pumps, the latter in a frock-coat made by a village tailor, taking short steps in his heavy hob-nailed shoes — were leading the Republic and Justice to their downfall. Méline had left the Government and Faure had left the world of the living at the very height of the banquet. It must also be recognized that the obsequies of the latter had not produced all that was expected of them, and that the coup they had hoped to bring off at the lying-in-state had proved abortive. It was also true that after smashing President Loubet’s hat the gentry of the cornflower and the white carnation had received their chastisement at the hands of the Socialists. It is true that a Republican Ministry was formed, and obtained a majority. But in the ranks of the reactionary party were the clergy, the magistracy, the army, the landed gentry, industry, commerce, part of the Chamber, and almost the whole of the Press. And as young Lacrisse remarked, if the Keeper of the Seals had taken it into his head to order a search to be made at the headquarters of the Royalist and Anti-Jewish Committees they would not have found one police commissary in the whole of France to seize the compromising documents.

  “Anyhow,” said Monsieur de Terremondre, “poor Monsieur Faure was of great service to us.”

  “He loved the army,” sighed Madame de Bonmont.

  “Assuredly,” continued Monsieur de Terremondre. “And then by his display he prepared people for the monarchy. Coming after him, the King will not seem to be a burden upon the people; his establishment will not seem ridiculous.”

  Madame de Bonmont was anxious to be assured that the King would enter Paris in a coach drawn by six white horses.

  “One day last summer,” continued Monsieur de Terremondre, “as I was walking down the Rue Lafayette, I found all the traffic stopped, with groups of police here and there, and the pavements lined with people. I asked a citizen what this meant, and he solemnly replied that they had been waiting an hour for the President, who was returning to the Élysée after a visit to Saint-Denis. I looked at the respectful idlers and at the well-to-do people, who, with little parcels in their hands, were sitting quiet and watchful in their waiting fiacres, deferentially losing their trains. I was pleased to note that all these people adapted themselves so easily to the customs of a monarchy, and that the Parisians were quite ready to welcome their sovereign.”

  “The city of Paris is no longer republican. All is going well,” said Joseph Lacrisse.

  “So much the better,” remarked Madame de Bonmont.

  “Does your father share your hopes?” said Monsieur de Gromance of the youthful secretary of the Young Royalists.

  As a matter of fact, the opinion of Maître Lacrisse, advocate to the Church authorities, was not to be despised. Maître Lacrisse was working with the Headquarters Staff and preparing for the Rennes trial. He had to go through the depositions of the, generals and get them to repeat their evidence. A Nationalist, and one of the leading lights of the Bar, he was, however suspected of having little confidence in the issue of the
Monarchist plots. The old man had worked in former days for the Comte de Chambord and the Comte de Paris, and he knew from experience that the Republic would not easily be ousted, and that she was not so docile as she appeared. He had no faith in the Senate, and as he made money at the Palais he resigned himself willingly enough to living in France under a kingless monarchy. He did not share the hopes of his son Joseph, but was too indulgent to condemn the ardour of enthusiastic youth.

  “My father,” replied Joseph Lacrisse, “has his own work; I have mine; but our efforts are convergent.” And leaning towards Madame de Bonmont he whispered, “We shall strike our blow during the Rennes trial.”

  “May God help you,” said Madame de Gromance, with a pious sigh. “It is time, if we want to save France.”

  It was very hot and they ate their ices in silence. Then the conversation languidly revived. It progressed fitfully, consisting of commonplace remarks and private observations. Madame de Gromance and Madame de Bonmont discussed clothes.

  “There is a hint this year of pleated skirts coming into fashion,” said Madame de Gromance, with inward satisfaction as she pictured the plump proportions of the Baronne in a full skirt.

  “You would never guess,” said Gromance, “where I went to-day. I went to the Senate. They were not sitting, and Laprat-Teulet took me all over the building. I saw everything — the hall, the gallery of Busts, the library. It is a very fine building.”

  What he did not tell them was that, in the semicircle where the peers were to sit when the King came to his own once more, he had felt the velvet chairs and chosen his place in the centre. And before he went out he had asked Laprat-Teulet where the treasury was. This visit to the palace of the future peers had revived his covetousness. He repeated with heartfelt and sincere conviction:

  “We must save France, Monsieur Lacrisse, we must save France, and it will only be in the nick of time.”

  Lacrisse would see to that. He displayed much confidence and affected great discretion. According to him, everything was in readiness. They would no doubt be forced to smash Worms-Clavelin’s head for him and perhaps do the same for two or three more of the Dreyfusites of the department. And he added, swallowing a piece of crystallized peach:

  “It’s bound to come.”

  Then Baron Wallstein spoke. He spoke at length; he made them realize his knowledge of affairs; he gave them advice, and related a few stories from Vienna which greatly amused him. Then, in conclusion:

  “It is all very satisfactory,” he said, with his irrepressible German accent; “it is all very satisfactory, but you must admit that your coup at President Faure’s funeral was a failure. If I speak like this it is because I am your friend. One owes the truth to one’s friends. Do not make a second mistake, because in that case you would lose your following.”

  He looked at his watch, and seeing that he had barely time to get to the Opera before the close of the performance, lighted a cigar and rose from the table.

  The position of Joseph Lacrisse demanded discretion; he was a conspirator. But he loved to display his power, to reveal the consideration in which he was held. He took from his pocket a blue morocco letter-case, which he carried against his breast, and drew from it a letter which he handed to Madame de Bonmont, saying with a smile:

  “They can search my flat if they like; I carry all my documents about me.”

  Madame de Bonmont took the letter, read it in a whisper, and, flushing with respect and emotion, returned it with a hand that trembled slightly to Joseph Lacrisse. And when the august letter, returned to its blue morocco case, once more resumed its place next the secretary’s heart, the Baronne gazed at his left breast with a lingering expression at once tearful and filled with fire. In her eyes young Lacrisse had suddenly become resplendent with romantic beauty.

  The diners who still lingered under the trees of the restaurant began to feel the dampness and the chill of the night. The pink lights gleaming on the flowers and glass flickered out one by one on the deserted tables. At the request of Madame de Gromance and the Baronne, Joseph Lacrisse for the second time drew the royal letter from his letter-case and read in a low but distinct voice:

  “MY DEAR JOSEPH, “I am greatly delighted by the patriotic enthusiasm which our friends are displaying, thanks to your efforts. I have seen G. D., who seemed to me to be excellently well disposed towards us.

  “Cordially yours, “PHILIPPE.”

  After reading the note Lacrisse replaced the sheet of paper in his blue morocco letter-case against his heart, beneath the white carnation in his buttonhole. Monsieur de Gromance murmured a few words of approval:

  “Very nice indeed. Those are the words of a real leader, a true king.

  “That is my feeling,” said Joseph Lacrisse. “It is a pleasure to execute the orders of such a master.”

  “And the style is excellently concise,” continued Monsieur de Gromance. “The Duc d’Orléans certainly seems to have inherited the secret of the Comte de Chambord’ s epistolary style. Of course you know, mesdames, that the Comte de Chambord wrote the most beautiful letters imaginable. A most able writer. That is really the truth. He excelled above all in letter-writing. There is a trace of his grand manner in the note which Monsieur Lacrisse? has just read to us. And the Duc d’Orléans has more enthusiasm; he has the fiery energy of youth. A fine figure of a man, a fine soldierly figure, and French to the backbone! He has a fascinating personality. I have been assured that in the working-class districts of Paris he is almost a popular favourite; he is known under the nickname of ‘Gamelle.’

  “His cause has made great progress among the masses,” said Lacrisse. “The little brooches with the King’s head, of which we have distributed enormous quantities, are beginning to show themselves in the factories and workshops. The populace has more common sense than is commonly supposed. We are within reach of success.”

  In a benevolent and authoritative tone Monsieur de Gromance continued:

  “With zeal, prudence and devotion such as yours, Monsieur Lacrisse, any hopes are permissible, and I am sure you will not have to sacrifice many victims in order to obtain success. Your opponents will flock over to you of their own accord.”

  His attitude as a supporter of the Republic, while not preventing him from expressing a desire for the restoration of the monarchy, did not permit him to express a too open approval of the violent methods which young Lacrisse had indicated at dessert.

  Monsieur de Gromance, who went to balls given at the Prefecture and was carrying on a flirtation with Madame Worms-Clavelin, tactfully remained silent when the young secretary enlarged upon the necessity of doing for the “sheeny” prefect; but it was no breach of good taste on his part to praise the Prince’s letter as it deserved, and to give them all to understand that he was ready for any sacrifice to save his country.

  Monsieur de Terremondre was no less patriotic and no less appreciative of Philippe’s epistolary style; but he was such an enthusiastic collector of curios and autographs that all he could think of was how he could get Lacrisse to give him the Prince’s letter, either in exchange for something else or as a free gift or a so-called loan. By such methods he had got hold of several letters written by people mixed up in the Dreyfus affair and had formed an interesting collection. Now he was thinking of writing a pamphlet on the Monarchist Plot and putting in the Prince’s letter as the principal feature. He realized that it would be difficult to obtain and his mind was full of the matter.

  “Come and see me, Monsieur Lacrisse,” he said. “Come and see me at Neuilly, where I shall be for the next few days. I will show you some interesting documents and we will speak again of that letter.”

  Madame de Gromance had listened with proper attention to the King’s epistle. She was a woman of the world, and too well versed in its ways not to know what was due to royalty. She had bowed her head on hearing the words of Philippe as she would have bowed to the King’s carriage if she had had the honour of seeing it pass. But she was wanting in ent
husiasm and had no feeling of veneration. She knew all about princes and had been as intimate as it is possible to be with a relation of the Duc d’Orléans. This had occurred in an unobtrusive little house in the Champs-Élysées district, one afternoon. They had said all that they had to say, and the occasion had not had a sequel. Monseigneur had been pleasant but not at all magnificent. Of course she felt honoured, but she had never regarded the honour as either very special or very extraordinary. She respected princes; occasionally she loved them; but she did not dream about them, and the letter left her quite unmoved. As for young Lacrisse, the sympathy which she felt for him was neither ardent nor tumultuous. She understood and approved of this fair-haired young man. He was small, slender and agreeable enough, though he was not rich. He was doing his very utmost to profit by the Affair and acquire importance. She, too, knew by experience that it is not easy to live in Society if one is poor. They were both working to keep their footing in Society. This was one reason for a good understanding between them. They could help one another now and then. But that was all! —

  “I congratulate you, Monsieur Lacrisse,” she said, “and you have my very best wishes.”

  How much more chivalrous and tender were the feelings of Baronne Jules! The gentle Viennese was interested heart and soul in this fashionable plot, of which the white carnation was the emblem. And she, too, was so fond of flowers! To be mixed up in an aristocratic plot in favour of the King was to her to enter into and luxuriate in the old French nobility, to be received in the most exclusive houses, and later on, perhaps, to go to Court. She was excited, pleased and agitated. Being affectionate rather than ambitious, her susceptible heart was touched by what she was pleased to consider the poetry of the Prince’s letter. And the innocent woman spoke as she thought:

 

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