Part 13

His budget was very honestly put together. And, apart from the irregularities that had now become regular as the result of a faulty administration common to the whole Republic, nothing worthy of blame could be discovered in it. M. Worms-Clavelin knew this. He felt himself strong in his integrity. But the polemics of the press put him out of patience. His heart was saddened by the animosity of his opponents and the rancour of the parties that he believed he had disarmed. After so many sacrifices he was pained at not having won the esteem of the Conservatives, which he secretly valued far more highly than the friendship of the Republicans. He would have to inspire _le Phare_ with pointed and forceful replies, to conduct a lively, and, perhaps protracted war. This thought was harassing to the deep slothfulness of his mind and alarming to his prudence, which feared every action as a source of peril.

Thus he was in a very bad temper. And it was in a sharp voice that, throwing himself into the old leather arm-chair, he inquired of Rondonneau junior whether M. Guitrel had arrived. M. Guitrel had not yet come. So M. Worms-Clavelin, roughly snatching a paper from the jeweller’s desk, tried to read while smoking his cigar. But neither political ideas nor tobacco-smoke served to dispel the gloomy pictures that crowded into his mind. He read with his eyes, but thought of the attacks of _le Libéral_: “Transfer! There are not fifty people in the county town who know what a transfer is. And here I can see all the idiots in the department shaking their heads and solemnly repeating the phrase in their newspaper: ‘We regret to see that M. _le préfet_ has not abandoned the detestable and exploded practice of making transfers.’” He fell into thought. The ash from his cigar lavishly bestrewed his waistcoat. He went on thinking: “Why does _le Libéral_ attack me? I got its candidate returned. My department shows the greatest number of new adherents at election-times.” He turned over the page of the paper. He thought on again: “I have not covered up a deficit. The sums voted on the presentation of the estimates have not been spent in a different way from what was proposed. These people don’t know how to read a budget. And they are disingenuous.” He shrugged his shoulders; and gloomy, indifferent to the cigar ash which covered his chest and thighs, he plunged into the reading of his paper.

His eyes fell on these lines:

“We learn that a fire having broken out in a faubourg of Tobolsk, sixty wooden houses have fallen a prey to the flames. In consequence of the disaster more than a hundred families are homeless and starving.”

As he read this, M. _le préfet_ Worms-Clavelin emitted a deep shout, something like a triumphal growl, and, aiming a kick at the jeweller’s desk:

“I say, Rondonneau, Tobolsk is a Russian town, isn’t it?”

Rondonneau, raising his innocent, bald head towards the _préfet_, replied that Tobolsk was, indeed, a town in Asiatic Russia.

“Well,” cried M. _le préfet_ Worms-Clavelin, “we are going to give an entertainment for the benefit of the sufferers by the fire at Tobolsk.”

And he added between his teeth:

“I’ll make … a Russian entertainment for ’em. I shall have six weeks’ peace, and they won’t talk any more about transfers.”

At that moment Abbé Guitrel, with anxious eyes, his hat under his arm, entered the jeweller’s shop.

“Do you know, monsieur l’abbé,” said the _préfet_ to him, “that, by general request, I am authorising entertainments for the benefit of the sufferers from the fire at Tobolsk—concerts, special performances, bazaars, &c.? I hope that the Church will join in these benevolent entertainments.”

“The Church, monsieur _le préfet_,” replied Abbé Guitrel, “has her hands full of comfort for the afflicted who come to her. And doubtless her prayers …”

“_À propos_, my dear abbé, your affairs are not getting on at all. I come from Paris. I saw the friends whom I have at the Department of Religion. And I bring back bad news. To start with, there are eighteen of you.”

“Eighteen?”

“Eighteen candidates for the bishopric of Tourcoing. In the first rank is Abbé Olivet, curé of one of the richest parishes in Paris, and the president’s candidate. Next there is Abbé Lavardin, vicar-general at Grenoble. Ostensibly, he is supported by the nuncio.”

“I have not the honour of knowing M. Lavardin, but I do not think he can be the candidate of the nunciature. It is possible that the nuncio has his favourite. But assuredly that favourite remains unknown. The nunciature does not solicit on behalf of its protégés. It insists on their appointment.”

“Ah! ah! monsieur l’abbé, they are cute at the nunciature.”

“Monsieur _le préfet_, the members of it are not all eminent in themselves; but they have on their side unbroken tradition, and their action is guided by secular rules. It is a force, monsieur _le préfet_, a great force.”

“By Jove, yes! But we were saying that there is the president’s candidate and the nuncio’s candidate. There is also your own Archbishop’s candidate. When they first mentioned him, I thought to myself that it was you. … We were wrong, my poor friend. Monseigneur Charlot’s protégé—I’ll wager you won’t guess who it is.”

“Don’t make a wager, monsieur _le préfet_, don’t make a wager. I would bet that the candidate of Monseigneur the Cardinal-Archbishop is his vicar-general, M. de Goulet.”

“How do you know that? I did not know it myself.”

“Monsieur _le préfet_, you are not unaware that Monseigneur Charlot dreads that he may find himself saddled with a coadjutor, and that his old age, otherwise so august and serene, is darkened by this fear. He is afraid lest M. de Goulet should, so to say, attract this nomination to himself, as much by his personal merits as by the knowledge that he has acquired of the affairs of the diocese. And His Eminence is still more desirous, and even impatient, to separate himself from his vicar-general, since M. de Goulet belongs by birth to the nobility of the district, and through that fact shines with a brilliancy which is far too dazzling for Monseigneur Charlot. Since, on the contrary, Monseigneur does not rejoice in being the son of an honest artisan who, like Saint Paul, worked at the trade of weaver!”

“You know, Monsieur Guitrel, that they also talk of M. Lantaigne. He is the protégé of Madame Cartier de Chalmot. And General Cartier de Chalmot, although clerical and reactionary, is much respected in Paris. He is recognised as one of the ablest and most intelligent of our generals. Even his opinions, at this moment, are advantageous rather than harmful to him. With a ministry disposed to reunion, reactionaries get all that they want. They are needed; they give the turn to the scale. And then the Russian alliance and the Czar’s friendship have contributed to restore to the aristocracy and the army of our nation a part of their ancient prestige. We are shunting the Republic on to a certain distinction of mind and manners. Moreover, a general tendency towards authority and stability is declaring itself. I do not, however, believe that M. Lantaigne has great chances. In the first place, I have reported most unfavourably with regard to him. I have represented him in high places as a militant monarchist. I have described his uncompromising ways, his cross-grained temperament. And I have painted a sympathetic portrait of you, my dear Guitrel. I have shown off your moderation, your pliancy, your politic mind, your respect for republican institutions.”

“I am very grateful to you for your kindness, monsieur _le préfet_. And what did they reply?”

“You want to know that. Well! they replied: ‘We know such candidates as your M. Guitrel. Once nominated, they are worse than the others. They show more zeal against us. That is easily accounted for. They have more to beg pardon for of their own party.’”

“Is it possible, monsieur _le préfet_, that they talked like this in high places?”

“Ha! yes. And my interlocutor added this: ‘I do not like candidates for the episcopacy who show too much zeal for our institutions. If I could get a hearing, the choice would be made from among the others. In the civil and political ranks they prefer officials who are most devoted, most attached to the government. Nothing can be better. But there are no priests devoted to the Republic. In this case, the wise thing is always to take the most honest men.’”

And the _préfet_, throwing the chewed end of his cigar into the middle of the floor, finished with these words:

“You see, my poor Guitrel, that your affairs are not making headway.”

M. Guitrel stammered:

“I do not see, Monsieur _le préfet_, I do not perceive anything, in such speeches, that is calculated to produce in you this impression of … discouragement. On the contrary, I should rather derive from it a sentiment of … confidence. …”

M. _le préfet_ Worms-Clavelin lit a cigar and said with a laugh:

“Who knows whether they are not right, at the bureaux? … But reassure yourself, my dear abbé, I do not abandon you. Let’s see, whom have we on our side?”

He opened his left hand, in order to count on his fingers.

They both considered.

They found a senator of the department who was beginning to emerge from the difficulties into which the recent scandals had plunged him, a retired general, politician, publicist and financier, the bishop of Ecbatana, well known in the artistic world, and Théophile Mayer, the friend of the ministers.

“But, my dear Guitrel,” cried the _préfet_, “you have only the rag-tag and bobtail on your side.”

Abbé Guitrel endured these manners, but he did not like them. He looked at the _préfet_ with a saddened air and pressed his sinuous lips together. M. Worms-Clavelin, who had no spite, regretted the playfulness of his words and took pains to console the old man:

“Come! come! they are by no means the worst protectors. Besides, my wife is for you. And Noémi by herself is well able to make a bishop.”

THE WORKS OF ANATOLE FRANCE

IN AN ENGLISH TRANSLATION EDITED BY THE LATE FREDERIC CHAPMAN, J. LEWIS MAY AND BERNARD MIALL

Uniform, Demy 8vo.

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ANATOLE FRANCE

“I do not believe that Thorfin Karlsefne was more astonished and delighted when he discovered America than I was when, in my sixtieth year, this great literary luminary sailed into my ken. … I have three good reasons for writing about Anatole France. I want to help the British people to enjoy his work; I want them to accord to the great Frenchman the full justice which I feel he has not yet received in this country; and I want to ease my soul by some expression of my own gratitude and admiration. … Of all the famous or popular men alive upon this planet Anatole France is to me the greatest. There is no writer to compare to him, and he has few peers amongst the greatest geniuses of past ages and all climes. … ‘Penguin Island’ is a masterpiece and a classic. It is, in my opinion, a greater work than ‘Gargantua’ or ‘Don Quixote’ or ‘Sartor Resartus’ or ‘Tristram Shandy.’ … The laughing, mocking, learned and dissolute Abbé Coignard is one of the greatest creations of human genius. If it will not sound too audacious I will venture to claim that there is no character in Rabelais, Cervantes, Dickens, or Sterne to equal the Abbé Coignard, and, with the exception of the miraculous Hamlet, there is nothing greater in Shakespeare. These be ‘brave words.’ I am writing of one of the world’s greatest artists and humorists: of Anatole France, the Master. … Then there is the great scene of the banquet in the house of Monsieur de la Geritande, which I have read fifty times, and hope to read a hundred times again. The whole chapter is one of the most artistic, humorous, human, and exhilarating achievements in literature. It is alive; it is real; it goes like a song. There is nothing finer or stronger in the best comedy work of Shakespeare. … Anatole France is a great man, and there is no living celebrity for whom I have so much reverence and regard.”—ROBERT BLATCHFORD in the _Sunday Chronicle_.

[N]THE RED LILY A TRANSLATION BY WINIFRED STEPHENS

MOTHER OF PEARL A TRANSLATION BY FREDERIC CHAPMAN

THE GARDEN OF EPICURUS A TRANSLATION BY ALFRED ALLINSON

[N]THE CRIME OF SYLVESTRE BONNARD A TRANSLATION BY LAFCADIO HEARN

THE WELL OF ST. CLARE A TRANSLATION BY ALFRED ALLINSON

BALTHASAR A TRANSLATION BY MRS. JOHN LAMB

[N]THAIS A TRANSLATION BY ROBERT BRUCE DOUGLAS

THE WHITE STONE A TRANSLATION BY C. E. ROCHE

[N]PENGUIN ISLAND A TRANSLATION BY A. W. EVANS

THE MERRIE TALES OF JACQUES TOURNEBROCHE. A TRANSLATION BY ALFRED ALLINSON

THE ELM TREE OF THE MALL A TRANSLATION BY M. P. WILLCOCKS

THE WICKER-WORK WOMAN A TRANSLATION BY M. P. WILLCOCKS

ON LIFE AND LETTERS. 2 Vols. First and Second Series. A TRANSLATION BY A. W. EVANS

AT THE SIGN OF THE REINE PEDAUQUE A TRANSLATION BY MRS WILFRID JACKSON

THE ASPIRATIONS OF JEAN SERVIEN A TRANSLATION BY ALFRED ALLINSON

JOCASTA AND THE FAMISHED CAT A TRANSLATION BY MRS. FARLEY

MY FRIEND’S BOOK A TRANSLATION BY J. LEWIS MAY

THE GODS ARE ATHIRST A TRANSLATION BY ALFRED ALLINSON

THE OPINIONS OF JEROME COIGNARD A TRANSLATION BY MRS. WILFRID JACKSON

THE REVOLT OF THE ANGELS A TRANSLATION BY MRS WILFRID JACKSON

CRAINQUEBILLE A TRANSLATION BY WINIFRED STEPHENS

PIERRE NOZIÈRE A TRANSLATION BY J. LEWIS MAY

THE AMETHYST RING A TRANSLATION BY BERENGERE DRILLIEN

THE BRIDE OF CORINTH and other Plays A TRANSLATION BY EMILIE AND WILFRID JACKSON

THE SEVEN WIVES OF BLUEBEARD A TRANSLATION BY D. B. STEWART

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JOAN OF ARC A TRANSLATION BY WINIFRED STEPHENS. With eight illustrations Two vols. 25s. net

_IN PREPARATION_

LITTLE PIERRE A TRANSLATION BY J. LEWIS MAY

M. BERGERET IN PARIS A TRANSLATION BY J. LEWIS MAY

CLIO and THE CHATEAU DE VAUX LE VICOMTE. A TRANSLATION BY WINIFRED STEPHENS

A COMIC STORY A TRANSLATION BY C. E. ROCHE

LE GÉNIE LATIN A TRANSLATION BY WILFRID JACKSON

ON LIFE AND LETTERS Third Series. A TRANSLATION BY D. B. STEWART

ON LIFE AND LETTERS Fourth Series. A TRANSLATION BY BERNARD MIALL

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Transcriber’s Note:

Hyphenation, spelling, accents and punctuation have been retained as they appear in the original publication except as follows:

Page 10 M Lantaigne, principal of the high _changed to_ M. Lantaigne, principal of the high

Page 20 Abbe Lantaigne, head of the high seminary _changed to_ Abbé Lantaigne, head of the high seminary

Page 37 of the proper of the saint. _changed to_ of the proper of the saint.”

Page 66 at all, our Archbishop. _changed to_ at all, our Archbishop.”

Page 79 M _le Préfet_ Worms-Clavelin _changed to_ M. _le Préfet_ Worms-Clavelin

Page 118 should come in 189– _changed to_ Should come in 189–

Page 125 M Paillot was the bookseller _changed to_ M. Paillot was the bookseller

Page 123 he may make fun o _changed to_ he may make fun of

Page 219 They are capital.’ _changed to_ They are capital.”

End of Project Gutenberg's The Elm-tree on the Mall, by Anatole France