CHAPTER VIII

FORWARD, MOLLUSKS!

The next day, Wednesday, Monsieur Rabourdin was to transact business

with the minister, for he had filled the late La Billardiere's place

since the beginning of the latter's illness. On such days the clerks

came punctually, the servants were specially attentive, there was

always a certain excitement in the offices on these signing-days,--and

why, nobody ever knew. On this occasion the three servants were at

their post, flattering themselves they should get a few fees; for a

rumor of Rabourdin's nomination had spread through the ministry the

night before, thanks to Dutocq. Uncle Antoine and Laurent had donned

their full uniform, when, at a quarter to eight, des Lupeaulx's

servant came in with a letter, which he begged Antoine to give

secretly to Dutocq, saying that the general-secretary had ordered him

to deliver it without fail at Monsieur Dutocq's house by seven

o'clock.

"I'm sure I don't know how it happened," he said, "but I overslept

myself. I've only just waked up, and he'd play the devil's tattoo on

me if he knew the letter hadn't gone. I know a famous secret, Antoine;

but don't say anything about it to the clerks if I tell you; promise?

He would send me off if he knew I had said a single word; he told me

so."

"What's inside the letter?" asked Antoine, eying it.

"Nothing; I looked this way--see."

He made the letter gape open, and showed Antoine that there was

nothing but blank paper to be seen.

"This is going to be a great day for you, Laurent," went on the

secretary's man. "You are to have a new director. Economy must be the

order of the day, for they are going to unite the two divisions under

one director--you fellows will have to look out!"

"Yes, nine clerks are put on the retired list," said Dutocq, who came

in at the moment; "how did you hear that?"

Antoine gave him the letter, and he had no sooner opened it than he

rushed headlong downstairs in the direction of the secretary's office.

The bureaus Rabourdin and Baudoyer, after idling and gossiping since

the death of Monsieur de la Billardiere, were now recovering their

usual official look and the dolce far niente habits of a government

office. Nevertheless, the approaching end of the year did cause rather

more application among the clerks, just as porters and servants become

at that season more unctuously civil. They all came punctually, for

one thing; more remained after four o'clock than was usual at other

times. It was not forgotten that fees and gratuities depend on the

last impressions made upon the minds of masters. The news of the union

of the two divisions, that of La Billardiere and that of Clergeot,

under one director, had spread through the various offices. The number

of the clerks to be retired was known, but all were in ignorance of

the names. It was taken for granted that Poiret would not be replaced,

and that would be a retrenchment. Little La Billardiere had already

departed. Two new supernumeraries had made their appearance, and,

alarming circumstance! they were both sons of deputies. The news told

about in the offices the night before, just as the clerks were

dispersing, agitated all minds, and for the first half-hour after

arrival in the morning they stood around the stoves and talked it

over. But earlier than that, Dutocq, as we have seen, had rushed to

des Lupeaulx on receiving his note, and found him dressing. Without

laying down his razor, the general-secretary cast upon his subordinate

the glance of a general issuing an order.

"Are we alone?" he asked.

"Yes, monsieur."

"Very good. March on Rabourdin; forward! steady! Of course you kept a

copy of that paper?"

"Yes."

"You understand me? Inde iroe! There must be a general hue and cry

raised against him. Find some way to start a clamor--"

"I could get a man to make a caricature, but I haven't five hundred

francs to pay for it."

"Who would make it?"

"Bixou."

"He shall have a thousand and be under-head-clerk to Colleville, who

will arrange with them; tell him so."

"But he wouldn't believe it on nothing more than my word."

"Are you trying to make me compromise myself? Either do the thing or

let it alone; do you hear me?"

"If Monsieur Baudoyer were director--"

"Well, he will be. Go now, and make haste; you have no time to lose.

Go down the back-stairs; I don't want people to know you have just

seen me."

While Dutocq was returning to the clerks' office and asking himself

how he could best incite a clamor against his chief without

compromising himself, Bixiou rushed to the Rabourdin office for a word

of greeting. Believing that he had lost his bet the incorrigible joker

thought it amusing to pretend that he had won it.

Bixiou [mimicking Phellion's voice]. "Gentlemen, I salute you with a

collective how d'ye do, and I appoint Sunday next for the dinner at

the Rocher de Cancale. But a serious question presents itself. Is that

dinner to include the clerks who are dismissed?"

Poiret. "And those who retire?"

Bixiou. "Not that I care, for it isn't I who pay." [General

stupefaction.] "Baudoyer is appointed. I think I already hear him

calling Laurent" [mimicking Baudoyer], "Laurent! lock up my hair-

shirt, and my scourge." [They all roar with laughter.] "Yes, yes, he

laughs well who laughs last. Gentlemen, there's a great deal in that

anagram of Colleville's. 'Xavier Rabourdin, chef de bureau--D'abord

reva bureaux, e-u fin riche.' If I were named 'Charles X., par la

grace de Dieu roi de France et de Navarre,' I should tremble in my

shoes at the fate those letters anagrammatize."

Thuillier. "Look here! are you making fun?"

Bixiou. "No, I am not. Rabourdin resigns in a rage at finding Baudoyer

appointed director."

Vimeux [entering.] "Nonsense, no such thing! Antoine (to whom I have

just been paying forty francs that I owed him) tells me that Monsieur

and Madame Rabourdin were at the minister's private party last night

and stayed till midnight. His Excellency escorted Madame Rabourdin to

the staircase. It seems she was divinely dressed. In short, it is

quite certain that Rabourdin is to be director. Riffe, the secretary's

copying clerk, told me he sat up all the night before to draw the

papers; it is no longer a secret. Monsieur Clergeot is retired. After

thirty years' service that's no misfortune. Monsieur Cochlin, who is

rich--"

Bixiou. "By cochineal."

Vimeux. "Yes, cochineal; he's a partner in the house of Matifat, rue

des Lombards. Well, he is retired; so is Poiret. Neither is to be

replaced. So much is certain; the rest is all conjecture. The

appointment of Monsieur Rabourdin is to be announced this morning;

they are afraid of intrigues."

Bixiou. "What intrigues?"

Fleury. "Baudoyer's, confound him! The priests uphold him; here's

another article in the liberal journal,--only half a dozen lines, but

they are queer" [reads]:

"Certain persons spoke last night in the lobby of the Opera-house

of the return of Monsieur de Chateaubriand to the ministry, basing

their opinion on the choice made of Monsieur Rabourdin (the

protege of friends of the noble viscount) to fill the office for

which Monsieur Baudoyer was first selected. The clerical party is

not likely to withdraw unless in deference to the great writer.

"Blackguards!"

Dutocq [entering, having heard the whole discussion]. "Blackguards!

Who? Rabourdin? Then you know the news?"

Fleury [rolling his eyes savagely]. "Rabourdin a blackguard! Are you

mad, Dutocq? do you want a ball in your brains to give them weight?"

Dutocq. "I said nothing against Monsieur Rabourdin; only it has just

been told to me in confidence that he has written a paper denouncing

all the clerks and officials, and full of facts about their lives; in

short, the reason why his friends support him is because he has

written this paper against the administration, in which we are all

exposed--"

Phellion [in a loud voice]. "Monsieur Rabourdin is incapable of--"

Bixiou. "Very proper in you to say so. Tell me, Dutocq" [they whisper

together and then go into the corridor].

Bixiou. "What has happened?"

Dutocq. "Do you remember what I said to you about that caricature?"

Bixiou. "Yes, what then?"

Dutocq. "Make it, and you shall be under-head-clerk with a famous fee.

The fact is, my dear fellow, there's dissension among the powers that

be. The minister is pledged to Rabourdin, but if he doesn't appoint

Baudoyer he offends the priests and their party. You see, the King,

the Dauphin and the Dauphine, the clergy, and lastly the court, all

want Baudoyer; the minister wants Rabourdin."

Bixiou. "Good!"

Dutocq. "To ease the matter off, the minister, who sees he must give

way, wants to strangle the difficulty. We must find some good reason

for getting rid of Rabourdin. Now somebody has lately unearthed a

paper of his, exposing the present system of administration and

wanting to reform it; and that paper is going the rounds,--at least,

this is how I understand the matter. Make the drawing we talked of; in

so doing you'll play the game of all the big people, and help the

minister, the court, the clergy,--in short, everybody; and you'll get

your appointment. Now do you understand me?"

Bixiou. "I don't understand how you came to know all that; perhaps you

are inventing it."

Dutocq. "Do you want me to let you see what Rabourdin wrote about

you?"

Bixiou. "Yes."

Dutocq. "Then come home with me; for I must put the document into safe

keeping."

Bixiou. "You go first alone." [Re-enters the bureau Rabourdin.] "What

Dutocq told you is really all true, word of honor! It seems that

Monsieur Rabourdin has written and sent in very unflattering

descriptions of the clerks whom he wants to 'reform.' That's the real

reason why his secret friends wish him appointed. Well, well; we live

in days when nothing astonishes me" [flings his cloak about him like

Talma, and declaims]:--

"Thou who has seen the fall of grand, illustrious heads,

Why thus amazed, insensate that thou art,

"to find a man like Rabourdin employing such means? Baudoyer is too

much of a fool to know how to use them. Accept my congratulations,

gentlemen; either way you are under a most illustrious chief" [goes

off].

Poiret. "I shall leave this ministry without ever comprehending a

single word that gentleman utters. What does he mean with his 'heads

that fall'?"

Fleury. "'Heads that fell?' why, think of the four sergeants of

Rochelle, Ney, Berton, Caron, the brothers Faucher, and the

massacres."

Phellion. "He asserts very flippantly things that he only guesses at."

Fleury. "Say at once that he lies; in his mouth truth itself turns to

corrosion."

Phellion. "Your language is unparliamentary and lacks the courtesy and

consideration which are due to a colleague."

Vimeux. "It seems to me that if what he says is false, the proper name

for it is calumny, defamation of character; and such a slanderer

deserves the thrashing."

Fleury [getting hot]. "If the government offices are public places,

the matter ought to be taken into the police-courts."

Phellion [wishing to avert a quarrel, tries to turn the conversation].

"Gentleman, might I ask you to keep quiet? I am writing a little

treatise on moral philosophy, and I am just at the heart of it."

Fleury [interrupting]. "What are you saying about it, Monsieur

Phellion?"

Phellion [reading]. "Question.--What is the soul of man?

"Answer.--A spiritual substance which thinks and reasons."

Thuillier. "Spiritual substance! you might as well talk about

immaterial stone."

Poiret. "Don't interrupt; let him go on."

Phellion [continuing]. "Quest.--Whence comes the soul?

"Ans.--From God, who created it of a nature one and indivisible; the

destructibility thereof is, consequently, not conceivable, and he hath

said--"

Poiret [amazed]. "God said?"

Phellion. "Yes, monsieur; tradition authorizes the statement."

Fleury [to Poiret]. "Come, don't interrupt, yourself."

Phellion [resuming]. "--and he hath said that he created it immortal;

in other words, the soul can never die.

"Quest.--What are the uses of the soul?

"Ans.--To comprehend, to will, to remember; these constitute

understanding, volition, memory.

"Quest.--What are the uses of the understanding?

"Ans.--To know. It is the eye of the soul."

Fleury. "And the soul is the eye of what?"

Phellion [continuing]. "Quest.--What ought the understanding to know?

"Ans.--Truth.

"Quest.--Why does man possess volition?

"Ans.--To love good and hate evil.

"Quest.--What is good?

"Ans.--That which makes us happy."

Vimeux. "Heavens! do you teach that to young ladies?"

Phellion. "Yes" [continuing]. "Quest.--How many kinds of good are

there?"

Fleury. "Amazingly indecorous, to say the least."

Phellion [aggrieved]. "Oh, monsieur!" [Controlling himself.] "But

here's the answer,--that's as far as I have got" [reads]:--

"Ans.--There are two kinds of good,--eternal good and temporal good."

Poiret [with a look of contempt]. "And does that sell for anything?"

Phellion. "I hope it will. It requires great application of mind to

carry on a system of questions and answers; that is why I ask you to

be quiet and let me think, for the answers--"

Thuillier [interrupting]. "The answers might be sold separately."

Poiret. "Is that a pun?"

Thuillier. "No; a riddle."

Phellion. "I am sorry I interrupted you" [he dives into his office

desk]. "But" [to himself] "at any rate, I have stopped their talking

about Monsieur Rabourdin."

At this moment a scene was taking place between the minister and des

Lupeaulx which decided Rabourdin's fate. The general-secretary had

gone to see the minister in his private study before the breakfast-

hour, to make sure that La Briere was not within hearing.

"Your Excellency is not treating me frankly--"

"He means a quarrel," thought the minister; "and all because his

mistress coquetted with me last night. I did not think you so

juvenile, my dear friend," he said aloud.

"Friend?" said the general-secretary, "that is what I want to find

out."

The minister looked haughtily at des Lupeaulx.

"We are alone," continued the secretary, "and we can come to an

understanding. The deputy of the arrondissement in which my estate is

situated--"

"So it is really an estate!" said the minister, laughing, to hide his

surprise.

"Increased by a recent purchase of two hundred thousand francs' worth

of adjacent property," replied des Lupeaulx, carelessly. "You knew of

the deputy's approaching resignation at least ten days ago, and you

did not tell me of it. You were perhaps not bound to do so, but you

knew very well that I am most anxious to take my seat in the centre.

Has it occurred to you that I might fling myself back on the

'Doctrine'?--which, let me tell you, will destroy the administration

and the monarchy both if you continue to allow the party of

representative government to be recruited from men of talent whom you

ignore. Don't you know that in every nation there are fifty to sixty,

not more, dangerous heads, whose schemes are in proportion to their

ambition? The secret of knowing how to govern is to know those heads

well, and either to chop them off or buy them. I don't know how much

talent I have, but I know that I have ambition; and you are committing

a serious blunder when you set aside a man who wishes you well. The

anointed head dazzles for the time being, but what next?--Why, a war

of words; discussions will spring up once more and grow embittered,

envenomed. Then, for your own sake, I advise you not to find me at the

Left Centre. In spite of your prefect's manoeuvres (instructions for

which no doubt went from here confidentially) I am secure of a

majority. The time has come for you and me to understand each other.

After a breeze like this people sometimes become closer friends than

ever. I must be made count and receive the grand cordon of the Legion

of honor as a reward for my public services. However, I care less for

those things just now than I do for something else in which you are

more personally concerned. You have not yet appointed Rabourdin, and I

have news this morning which tends to show that most persons will be

better satisfied if you appoint Baudoyer."

"Appoint Baudoyer!" echoed the minister. "Do you know him?"

"Yes," said des Lupeaulx; "but suppose he proves incapable, as he

will, you can then get rid of him by asking those who protect him to

employ him elsewhere. You will thus get back an important office to

give to friends; it may come in at the right moment to facilitate some

compromise."

"But I have pledged it to Rabourdin."

"That may be; and I don't ask you to make the change this very day. I

know the danger of saying yes and no within twenty-four hours. But

postpone the appointment, and don't sign the papers till the day after

to-morrow; by that time you may find it impossible to retain

Rabourdin,--in fact, in all probability, he will send you his

resignation--"

"His resignation?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"He is the tool of a secret power in whose interests he has carried on

a system of espionage in all the ministries, and the thing has been

discovered by mere accident. He has written a paper of some kind,

giving short histories of all the officials. Everybody is talking of

it; the clerks are furious. For heaven's sake, don't transact business

with him to-day; let me find some means for you to avoid it. Ask an

audience of the King; I am sure you will find great satisfaction there

if you concede the point about Baudoyer; and you can obtain something

as an equivalent. Your position will be better than ever if you are

forced later to dismiss a fool whom the court party impose upon you."

"What has made you turn against Rabourdin?"

"Would you forgive Monsieur de Chateaubriand for writing an article

against the ministry? Well, read that, and see how Rabourdin has

treated me in his secret document," said des Lupeaulx, giving the

paper to the minister. "He pretends to reorganize the government from

beginning to end,--no doubt in the interests of some secret society of

which, as yet, we know nothing. I shall continue to be his friend for

the sake of watching him; by that means I may render the government

such signal service that they will have to make me count; for the

peerage is the only thing I really care for. I want you fully to

understand that I am not seeking office or anything else that would

cause me to stand in your way; I am simply aiming for the peerage,

which will enable me to marry a banker's daughter with an income of a

couple of hundred thousand francs. And so, allow me to render you a

few signal services which will make the King feel that I have saved

the throne. I have long said that Liberalism would never offer us a

pitched battle. It has given up conspiracies, Carbonaroism, and

revolts with weapons; it is now sapping and mining, and the day is

coming when it will be able to say, 'Out of that and let me in!' Do

you think I have been courting Rabourdin's wife for my own pleasure?

No, but I got much information from her. So now, let us agree on two

things; first, the postponement of the appointment; second, your

SINCERE support of my election. You shall find at the end of the

session that I have amply repaid you."

For all answer, the minister took the appointment papers and placed

them in des Lupeaulx's hand.

"I will go and tell Rabourdin," added des Lupeaulx, "that you cannot

transact business with him till Saturday."

The minister replied with an assenting gesture. The secretary

despatched his man with a message to Rabourdin that the minister could

not work with him until Saturday, on which day the Chamber was

occupied with private bills, and his Excellency had more time at his

disposal.

Just at this moment Saillard, having brought the monthly stipend, was

slipping his little speech into the ear of the minister's wife, who

drew herself up and answered with dignity that she did not meddle in

political matters, and besides, she had heard that Monsieur Rabourdin

was already appointed. Saillard, terrified, rushed up to Baudoyer's

office, where he found Dutocq, Godard, and Bixiou in a state of

exasperation difficult to describe; for they were reading the terrible

paper on the administration in which they were all discussed.

Bixiou [with his finger on a paragraph]. "Here YOU are, pere Saillard.

Listen" [reads]:--

"Saillard.--The office of cashier to be suppressed in all the

ministries; their accounts to be kept in future at the Treasury.

Saillard is rich and does not need a pension.

"Do you want to hear about your son-in-law?" [Turns over the leaves.]

"Here he is" [reads]:--

"Baudoyer.--Utterly incapable. To be thanked and dismissed. Rich; does

not need a pension.

"And here's for Godard" [reads]:--

"Godard.--Should be dismissed; pension one-third of his present

salary.

"In short, here we all are. Listen to what I am" [reads]: "An artist

who might be employed by the civil list, at the Opera, or the Menus-

Plaisirs, or the Museum. Great deal of capacity, little self-respect,

no application,--a restless spirit. Ha! I'll give you a touch of the

artist, Monsieur Rabourdin!"

Saillard. "Suppress cashiers! Why, the man's a monster?"

Bixiou. "Let us see what he says of our mysterious Desroys." [Turns

over the pages; reads.]

"Desroys.--Dangerous; because he cannot be shaken in principles that

are subversive of monarchial power. He is the son of the Conventionel,

and he admires the Convention. He may become a very mischievous

journalist."

Baudoyer. "The police are not worse spies!"

Godard. "I shall go the general-secretary and lay a complaint in form;

we must all resign in a body if such a man as that is put over us."

Dutocq. "Gentlemen, listen to me; let us be prudent. If you rise at

once in a body, we may all be accused of rancor and revenge. No, let

the thing work, let the rumor spread quietly. When the whole ministry

is aroused your remonstrances will meet with general approval."

Bixiou. "Dutocq believes in the principles of the grand air composed

by the sublime Rossini for Basilio,--which goes to show, by the bye,

that the great composer was also a great politician. I shall leave my

card on Monsieur Rabourdin to-morrow morning, inscribed thus: 'Bixiou;

no self-respect, no application, restless mind.'"

Godard. "A good idea, gentlemen. Let us all leave our cards to-morrow

on Rabourdin inscribed in the same way."

Dutocq [leading Bixiou apart]. "Come, you'll agree to make that

caricature now, won't you?"

Bixiou. "I see plainly, my dear fellow, that you knew all about this

affair ten days ago" [looks him in the eye]. "Am I to be under-head-

clerk?"

Dutocq. "On my word of honor, yes, and a thousand-franc fee beside,

just as I told you. You don't know what a service you'll be rendering

to powerful personages."

Bixiou. "You know them?"

Dutocq. "Yes."

Bixiou. "Well, then I want to speak with them."

Dutocq [dryly]. "You can make the caricature or not, and you can be

under-head-clerk or not,--as you please."

Bixiou. "At any rate, let me see that thousand francs."

Dutocq. "You shall have them when you bring the drawing."

Bixiou. "Forward, march! that lampoon shall go from end to end of the

bureaus to-morrow morning. Let us go and torment the Rabourdins."

[Then speaking to Saillard, Godard, and Baudoyer, who were talking

together in a low voice.] "We are going to stir up the neighbors."

[Goes with Dutocq into the Rabourdin bureau. Fleury, Thuillier, and

Vimeux are there, talking excitedly.] "What's the matter, gentlemen?

All that I told you turns out to be true; you can go and see for

yourselves the work of this infamous informer; for it is in the hands

of the virtuous, honest, estimable, upright, and pious Baudoyer, who

is indeed utterly incapable of doing any such thing. Your chief has

got every one of you under the guillotine. Go and see; follow the

crowd; money returned if you are not satisfied; execution GRATIS! The

appointments are postponed. All the bureaus are in arms; Rabourdin has

been informed that the minister will not work with him. Come, be off;

go and see for yourselves."

They all depart except Phellion and Poiret, who are left alone. The

former loved Rabourdin too well to look for proof that might injure a

man he was determined not to judge; the other had only five days more

to remain in the office, and cared nothing either way. Just then

Sebastien came down to collect the papers for signature. He was a good

deal surprised, though he did not show it, to find the office

deserted.

Phellion. "My young friend" [he rose, a rare thing], "do you know what

is going on? what scandals are rife about Monsieur Rabourdin whom you

love, and" [bending to whisper in Sebastien's ear] "whom I love as

much as I respect him. They say he has committed the imprudence to

leave a paper containing comments on the officials lying about in the

office--" [Phellion stopped short, caught the young man in his strong

arms, seeing that he turned pale and was near fainting, and placed him

on a chair.] "A key, Monsieur Poiret, to put down his back; have you a

key?"

Poiret. "I have the key of my domicile."

[Old Poiret junior promptly inserted the said key between Sebastien's

shoulders, while Phellion gave him some water to drink. The poor lad

no sooner opened his eyes than he began to weep. He laid his head on

Phellion's desk, and all his limbs were limp as if struck by

lightning; while his sobs were so heartrending, so genuine, that for

the first time in his life Poiret's feelings were stirred by the

sufferings of another.]

Phellion [speaking firmly]. "Come, come, my young friend; courage! In

times of trial we must show courage. You are a man. What is the

matter? What has happened to distress you so terribly?"

Sebastien [sobbing]. "It is I who have ruined Monsieur Rabourdin. I

left that paper lying about when I copied it. I have killed my

benefactor; I shall die myself. Such a noble man!--a man who ought to

be minister!"

Poiret [blowing his nose]. "Then it is true he wrote the report."

Sebastien [still sobbing]. "But it was to--there, I was going to tell

his secrets! Ah! that wretch of a Dutocq; it was he who stole the

paper."

His tears and sobs recommenced and made so much noise that Rabourdin

came up to see what was the matter. He found the young fellow almost

fainting in the arms of Poiret and Phellion.

Rabourdin. "What is the matter, gentlemen?"

Sebastien [struggling to his feet, and then falling on his knees

before Rabourdin]. "I have ruined you, monsieur. That memorandum,--

Dutocq, the monster, he must have taken it."

Rabourdin [calmly]. "I knew that already" [he lifts Sebastien]. "You

are a child, my young friend." [Speaks to Phellion.] "Where are the

other gentlemen?"

Phellion. "They have gone into Monsieur Baudoyer's office to see a

paper which it is said--"

Rabourdin [interrupting him]. "Enough." [Goes out, taking Sebastien

with him. Poiret and Phellion look at each other in amazement, and do

not know what to say.]

Poiret [to Phellion]. "Monsieur Rabourdin--"

Phellion [to Poiret]. "Monsieur Rabourdin--"

Poiret. "Well, I never! Monsieur Rabourdin!"

Phellion. "But did you notice how calm and dignified he was?"

Poiret [with a sly look that was more like a grimace]. "I shouldn't be

surprised if there were something under it all."

Phellion. "A man of honor; pure and spotless."

Poiret. "Who is?"

Phellion. "Monsieur Poiret, you think as I think about Dutocq; surely

you understand me?"

Poiret [nodding his head three times and answering with a shrewd

look]. "Yes." [The other clerks return.]

Fleury. "A great shock; I still don't believe the thing. Monsieur

Rabourdin, a king among men! If such men are spies, it is enough to

disgust one with virtue. I have always put Rabourdin among Plutarch's

heroes."

Vimeux. "It is all true."

Poiret [reflecting that he had only five days more to stay in the

office]. "But, gentlemen, what do you say about the man who stole that

paper, who spied upon Rabourdin?" [Dutocq left the room.]

Fleury. "I say he is a Judas Iscariot. Who is he?"

Phellion [significantly]. "He is not here at THIS MOMENT."

Vimeux [enlightened]. "It is Dutocq!"

Phellion. "I have no proof of it, gentlemen. While you were gone, that

young man, Monsieur de la Roche, nearly fainted here. See his tears on

my desk!"

Poiret. "We held him fainting in our arms.--My key, the key of my

domicile!--dear, dear! it is down his back." [Poiret goes hastily

out.]

Vimeux. "The minister refused to transact business with Rabourdin to-

day; and Monsieur Saillard, to whom the secretary said a few words,

came to tell Monsieur Baudoyer to apply for the cross of the Legion of

honor,--there is one to be granted, you know, on New-Year's day, to

all the heads of divisions. It is quite clear what it all means.

Monsieur Rabourdin is sacrificed by the very persons who employed him.

Bixiou says so. We were all to be turned out, except Sebastien and

Phellion."

Du Bruel [entering]. "Well, gentlemen, is it true?"

Thuillier. "To the last word."

Du Bruel [putting his hat on again]. "Good-bye." [Hurries out.]

Thuillier. "He may rush as much as he pleases to his Duc de Rhetore

and Duc de Maufrigneuse, but Colleville is to be our under-head-clerk,

that's certain."

Phellion. "Du Bruel always seemed to be attached to Monsieur

Rabourdin."

Poiret [returning]. "I have had a world of trouble to get back my key.

That boy is crying still, and Monsieur Rabourdin has disappeared."

[Dutocq and Bixiou enter.]

Bixiou. "Ha, gentlemen! strange things are going on in your bureau. Du

Bruel! I want you." [Looks into the adjoining room.] "Gone?"

Thuillier. "Full speed."

Bixiou. "What about Rabourdin?"

Fleury. "Distilled, evaporated, melted! Such a man, the king of men,

that he--"

Poiret [to Dutocq]. "That little Sebastien, in his trouble, said that

you, Monsieur Dutocq, had taken the paper from him ten days ago."

Bixiou [looking at Dutocq]. "You must clear yourself of THAT, my good

friend." [All the clerks look fixedly at Dutocq.]

Dutocq. "Where's the little viper who copied it?"

Bixiou. "Copied it? How did you know he copied it? Ha! ha! it is only

the diamond that cuts the diamond." [Dutocq leaves the room.]

Poiret. "Would you listen to me, Monsieur Bixiou? I have only five

days and a half to stay in this office, and I do wish that once, only

once, I might have the pleasure of understanding what you mean. Do me

the honor to explain what diamonds have to do with these present

circumstances."

Bixiou. "I meant papa,--for I'm willing for once to bring my intellect

down to the level of yours,--that just as the diamond alone can cut

the diamond, so it is only one inquisitive man who can defeat another

inquisitive man."

Fleury. "'Inquisitive man' stands for 'spy.'"

Poiret. "I don't understand."

Bixiou. "Very well; try again some other time."

Monsieur Rabourdin, after taking Sebastien to his room, had gone

straight to the minister; but the minister was at the Chamber of

Deputies. Rabourdin went at once to the Chamber, where he wrote a note

to his Excellency, who was at that moment in the tribune engaged in a

hot discussion. Rabourdin waited, not in the conference hall, but in

the courtyard, where, in spite of the cold, he resolved to remain and

intercept his Excellency as he got into his carriage. The usher of the

Chamber had told him that the minister was in the thick of a

controversy raised by the nineteen members of the extreme Left, and

that the session was likely to be stormy. Rabourdin walked to and for

in the courtyard of the palace for five mortal hours, a prey to

feverish agitation. At half-past six o'clock the session broke up, and

the members filed out. The minister's chasseur came up to find the

coachman.

"Hi, Jean!" he called out to him; "Monseigneur has gone with the

minister of war; they are going to see the King, and after that they

dine together, and we are to fetch him at ten o'clock. There's a

Council this evening."

Rabourdin walked slowly home, in a state of despondency not difficult

to imagine. It was seven o'clock, and he had barely time to dress.

"Well, you are appointed?" cried his wife, joyously, as he entered the

salon.

Rabourdin raised his head with a grievous motion of distress and

answered, "I fear I shall never again set foot in the ministry."

"What?" said his wife, quivering with sudden anxiety.

"My memorandum on the officials is known in all the offices; and I

have not been able to see the minister."

Celestine's eyes were opened to a sudden vision in which the devil, in

one of his infernal flashes, showed her the meaning of her last

conversation with des Lupeaulx.

"If I had behaved like a low woman," she thought, "we should have had

the place."

She looked at Rabourdin with grief in her heart. A sad silence fell

between them, and dinner was eaten in the midst of gloomy meditations.

"And it is my Wednesday," she said at last.

"All is not lost, dear Celestine," said Rabourdin, laying a kiss on

his wife's forehead; "perhaps to-morrow I shall be able to see the

minister and explain everything. Sebastien sat up all last night to

finish the writing; the papers are copied and collated; I shall place

them on the minister's desk and beg him to read them through. La

Briere will help me. A man is never condemned without a hearing."

"I am curious to see if Monsieur des Lupeaulx will come here to-

night."

"He? Of course he will come," said Rabourdin; "there's something of

the tiger in him; he likes to lick the blood of the wounds he has

given."

"My poor husband," said his wife, taking his hand, "I don't see how it

is that a man who could conceive so noble a reform did not also see

that it ought not to be communicated to a single person. It is one of

those ideas that a man should keep in his own mind, for he alone can

apply them. A statesman must do in our political sphere as Napoleon

did in his; he stooped, twisted, crawled. Yes, Bonaparte crawled! To

be made commander-in-chief of the Army of Italy he married Barrere's

mistress. You should have waited, got yourself elected deputy,

followed the politics of a party, sometimes down in the depths, at

other times on the crest of the wave, and you should have taken, like

Monsieur de Villele, the Italian motto 'Col tempo,' in other words,

'All things are given to him who knows how to wait.' That great orator

worked for seven years to get into power; he began in 1814 by

protesting against the Charter when he was the same age that you are

now. Here's your fault; you have allowed yourself to be kept

subordinate, when you were born to rule."

The entrance of the painter Schinner imposed silence on the wife and

husband, but these words made the latter thoughtful.

"Dear friend," said the painter, grasping Rabourdin's hand, "the

support of artists is a useless thing enough, but let me say under

these circumstances that we are all faithful to you. I have just read

the evening papers. Baudoyer is appointed director and receives the

cross of the Legion of honor--"

"I have been longer in the department, I have served twenty-four

hours," said Rabourdin with a smile.

"I know Monsieur le Comte de Serizy, the minister of State, pretty

well, and if he can help you, I will go and see him," said Schinner.

The salon soon filled with persons who knew nothing of the government

proceedings. Du Bruel did not appear. Madame Rabourdin was gayer and

more graceful than ever, like the charger wounded in battle, that

still finds strength to carry his master from the field.

"She is very courageous," said a few women who knew the truth, and who

were charmingly attentive to her, understanding her misfortunes.

"But she certainly did a great deal to attract des Lupeaulx," said the

Baronne du Chatelet to the Vicomtesse de Fontaine.

"Do you think--" began the vicomtesse.

"If so," interrupted Madame de Camps, in defence of her friend,

"Monsieur Rabourdin would at least have had the cross."

About eleven o'clock des Lupeaulx appeared; and we can only describe

him by saying that his spectacles were sad and his eyes joyous; the

glasses, however, obscured the glances so successfully that only a

physiognomist would have seen the diabolical expression which they

wore. He went up to Rabourdin and pressed the hand which the latter

could not avoid giving him.

Then he approached Madame Rabourdin.

"We have much to say to each other," he remarked as he seated himself

beside the beautiful woman, who received him admirably.

"Ah!" he continued, giving her a side glance, "you are grand indeed; I

find you just what I expected, glorious under defeat. Do you know that

it is a very rare thing to find a superior woman who answers to the

expectations formed of her. So defeat doesn't dishearten you? You are

right; we shall triumph in the end," he whispered in her ear. "Your

fate is always in your own hands,--so long, I mean, as your ally is a

man who adores you. We will hold counsel together."

"But is Baudoyer appointed?" she asked.

"Yes," said the secretary.

"Does he get the cross?"

"Not yet; but he will have it later."

"Amazing!"

"Ah! you don't understand political exigencies."

During this evening, which seemed interminable to Madame Rabourdin,

another scene was occurring in the place Royale,--one of those

comedies which are played in seven Parisian salons whenever there is a

change of ministry. The Saillards' salon was crowded. Monsieur and

Madame Transon arrived at eight o'clock; Madame Transon kissed Madame

Baudoyer, nee Saillard. Monsieur Bataille, captain of the National

Guard, came with his wife and the curate of Saint Paul's.

"Monsieur Baudoyer," said Madame Transon. "I wish to be the first to

congratulate you; they have done justice to your talents. You have

indeed earned your promotion."

"Here you are, director," said Monsieur Transon, rubbing his hands,

"and the appointment is very flattering to this neighborhood."

"And we can truly say it came to pass without any intriguing," said

the worthy Saillard. "We are none of us political intriguers; WE don't

go to select parties at the ministry."

Uncle Mitral rubbed his nose and grinned as he glanced at his niece

Elisabeth, the woman whose hand had pulled the wires, who was talking

with Gigonnet. Falleix, honest fellow, did not know what to make of

the stupid blindness of Saillard and Baudoyer. Messieurs Dutocq,

Bixiou, du Bruel, Godard, and Colleville (the latter appointed head of

the bureau) entered.

"What a crew!" whispered Bixiou to du Bruel. "I could make a fine

caricature of them in the shapes of fishes,--dorys, flounders, sharks,

and snappers, all dancing a saraband!"

"Monsieur," said Colleville, "I come to offer you my congratulations;

or rather we congratulate ourselves in having such a man placed over

us; and we desire to assure you of the zeal with which we shall co-

operate in your labors. Allow me to say that this event affords a

signal proof to the truth of my axiom that a man's destiny lies in the

letters of his name. I may say that I knew of this appointment and of

your other honors before I heard of them, for I spend the night in

anagrammatizing your name as follows:" [proudly] "Isidore C. T.

Baudoyer,--Director, decorated by us (his Majesty the King, of

course)."

Baudoyer bowed and remarked piously that names were given in baptism.

Monsieur and Madame Baudoyer, senior, father and mother of the new

director, were there to enjoy the glory of their son and daughter-in-

law. Uncle Gigonnet-Bidault, who had dined at the house, had a

restless, fidgety look in his eye which frightened Bixiou.

"There's a queer one," said the latter to du Bruel, calling his

attention to Gigonnet, "who would do in a vaudeville. I wonder if he

could be bought. Such an old scarecrow is just the thing for a sign

over the Two Baboons. And what a coat! I did think there was nobody

but Poiret who could show the like after that after ten years' public

exposure to the inclemencies of Parisian weather."

"Baudoyer is magnificent," said du Bruel.

"Dazzling," answered Bixiou.

"Gentlemen," said Baudoyer, "let me present you to my own uncle,

Monsieur Mitral, and to my great-uncle through my wife, Monsieur

Bidault."

Gigonnet and Mitral gave a glance at the three clerks so penetrating,

so glittering with gleams of gold, that the two scoffers were sobered

at once.

"Hein?" said Bixiou, when they were safely under the arcades in the

place Royale; "did you examine those uncles?--two copies of Shylock.

I'll bet their money is lent in the market at a hundred per cent per

week. They lend on pawn; and sell most that they lay hold of, coats,

gold lace, cheese, men, women, and children; they are a conglomeration

of Arabs, Jews, Genoese, Genevese, Greeks, Lombards, and Parisians,

suckled by a wolf and born of a Turkish woman."

"I believe you," said Godard. "Uncle Mitral used to be a sheriff's

officer."

"That settles it," said du Bruel.

"I'm off to see the proof of my caricature," said Bixiou; "but I

should like to study the state of things in Rabourdin's salon to-

night. You are lucky to be able to go there, du Bruel."

"I!" said the vaudevillist, "what should I do there? My face doesn't

lend itself to condolences. And it is very vulgar in these days to go

and see people who are down."

CHAPTER IX

THE RESIGNATION

By midnight Madame Rabourdin's salon was deserted; only two or three

guests remained with des Lupeaulx and the master and mistress of the

house. When Schinner and Monsieur and Madame de Camps had likewise

departed, des Lupeaulx rose with a mysterious air, stood with his back

to the fireplace and looked alternately at the husband and wife.

"My friends," he said, "nothing is really lost, for the minister and I

are faithful to you. Dutocq simply chose between two powers the one he

thought strongest. He has served the court and the Grand Almoner; he

has betrayed me. But that is in the order of things; a politician

never complains of treachery. Nevertheless, Baudoyer will be dismissed

as incapable in a few months; no doubt his protectors will find him a

place,--in the prefecture of police, perhaps,--for the clergy will not

desert him."

From this point des Lupeaulx went on with a long tirade about the

Grand Almoner and the dangers the government ran in relying upon the

church and upon the Jesuits. We need not, we think, point out to the

intelligent reader that the court and the Grand Almoner, to whom the

liberal journals attributed an enormous influence under the

administration, had little really to do with Monsieur Baudoyer's

appointment. Such petty intrigues die in the upper sphere of great

self-interests. If a few words in favor of Baudoyer were obtained by

the importunity of the curate of Saint-Paul's and the Abbe Gaudron,

they would have been withdrawn immediately at a suggestion from the

minister. The occult power of the Congregation of Jesus (admissible

certainly as confronting the bold society of the "Doctrine," entitled

"Help yourself and heaven will help you,") was formidable only through

the imaginary force conferred on it by subordinate powers who

perpetually threatened each other with its evils. The liberal scandal-

mongers delighted in representing the Grand Almoner and the whole

Jesuitical Chapter as political, administrative, civil, and military

giants. Fear creates bugbears. At this crisis Baudoyer firmly believed

in the said Chapter, little aware that the only Jesuits who had put

him where he now was sat by his own fireside, and in the Cafe Themis

playing dominoes.

At certain epochs in history certain powers appear, to whom all evils

are attributed, though at the same time their genius is denied; they

form an efficient argument in the mouth of fools. Just as Monsieur de

Talleyrand was supposed to hail all events of whatever kind with a bon

mot, so in these days of the Restoration the clerical party had the

credit of doing and undoing everything. Unfortunately, it did and

undid nothing. Its influence was not wielded by a Cardinal Richelieu

or a Cardinal Mazarin; it was in the hands of a species of Cardinal de

Fleury, who, timid for over five years, turned bold for one day,

injudiciously bold. Later on, the "Doctrine" did more, with impunity,

at Saint-Merri, than Charles X. pretended to do in July, 1830. If the

section on the censorship so foolishly introduced into the new charter

had been omitted, journalism also would have had its Saint-Merri. The

younger Branch could have legally carried out Charles X.'s plan.

"Remain where you are, head of a bureau under Baudoyer," went on des

Lupeaulx. "Have the nerve to do this; make yourself a true politician;

put ideas and generous impulses aside; attend only to your functions;

don't say a word to your new director; don't help him with a

suggestion; and do nothing yourself without his order. In three months

Baudoyer will be out of the ministry, either dismissed, or stranded on

some other administrative shore. They may attach him to the king's

household. Twice in my life I have been set aside as you are, and

overwhelmed by an avalanche of folly; I have quietly waited and let it

pass."

"Yes," said Rabourdin, "but you were not calumniated; your honor was

not assailed, compromised--"

"Ha, ha, ha!" cried des Lupeaulx, interrupting him with a burst of

Homeric laughter. "Why, that's the daily bread of every remarkable man

in this glorious kingdom of France! And there are but two ways to meet

such calumny,--either yield to it, pack up, and go plant cabbages in

the country; or else rise above it, march on, fearless, and don't turn

your head."

"For me, there is but one way of untying the noose which treachery and

the work of spies have fastened round my throat," replied Rabourdin.

"I must explain the matter at once to his Excellency, and if you are

as sincerely attached to me as you say you are, you will put me face

to face with him to-morrow."

"You mean that you wish to explain to him your plan for the reform of

the service?"

Rabourdin bowed.

"Well, then, trust the papers with me,--your memoranda, all the

documents. I promise you that he shall sit up all night and examine

them."

"Let us go to him, then!" cried Rabourdin, eagerly; "six years' toil

certainly deserves two or three hours attention from the king's

minister, who will be forced to recognize, if he does not applaud,

such perseverance."

Compelled by Rabourdin's tenacity to take a straightforward path,

without ambush or angle where his treachery could hide itself, des

Lupeaulx hesitated for a single instant, and looked at Madame

Rabourdin, while he inwardly asked himself, "Which shall I permit to

triumph, my hatred for him, or my fancy for her?"

"You have no confidence in my honor," he said, after a pause. "I see

that you will always be to me the author of your SECRET ANALYSIS.

Adieu, madame."

Madame Rabourdin bowed coldly. Celestine and Xavier returned at once

to their own rooms without a word; both were overcome by their

misfortune. The wife thought of the dreadful situation in which she

stood toward her husband. The husband, resolving slowly not to remain

at the ministry but to send in his resignation at once, was lost in a

sea of reflections; the crisis for him meant a total change of life

and the necessity of starting on a new career. All night he sat before

his fire, taking no notice of Celestine, who came in several times on

tiptoe, in her night-dress.

"I must go once more to the ministry, to bring away my papers, and

show Baudoyer the routine of the business," he said to himself at

last. "I had better write my resignation now."

He turned to his table and began to write, thinking over each clause

of the letter, which was as follows:--

Monseigneur,--I have the honor to inclose to your Excellency my

resignation. I venture to hope that you still remember hearing me

say that I left my honor in your hands, and that everything, for

me, depended on my being able to give you an immediate

explanation.

This explanation I have vainly sought to give. To-day it would,

perhaps, be useless; for a fragment of my work relating to the

administration, stolen and misused, has gone the rounds of the

offices and is misinterpreted by hatred; in consequence, I find

myself compelled to resign, under the tacit condemnation of my

superiors.

Your Excellency may have thought, on the morning when I first

sought to speak with you, that my purpose was to ask for my

promotion, when, in fact, I was thinking only of the glory and

usefulness of your ministry and of the public good. It is all-

important, I think, to correct that impression.

Then followed the usual epistolary formulas.

It was half-past seven in the morning when the man consummated the

sacrifice of his ideas; he burned everything, the toil of years.

Fatigued by the pressure of thought, overcome by mental suffering, he

fell asleep with his head on the back of his armchair. He was wakened

by a curious sensation, and found his hands covered with his wife's

tears and saw her kneeling before him. Celestine had read the

resignation. She could measure the depth of his fall. They were now to

be reduced to live on four thousand francs a year; and that day she

had counted up her debts,--they amounted to something like thirty-two

thousand francs! The most ignoble of all wretchedness had come upon

them. And that noble man who had trusted her was ignorant that she had

abused the fortune he had confided to her care. She was sobbing at his

feet, beautiful as the Magdalen.

"My cup is full," cried Xavier, in terror. "I am dishonored at the

ministry, and dishonored--"

The light of her pure honor flashed from Celestine's eyes; she sprang

up like a startled horse and cast a fulminating glance at Rabourdin.

"I! I!" she said, on two sublime tones. "Am I a base wife? If I were,

you would have been appointed. But," she added mournfully, "it is

easier to believe that than to believe what is the truth."

"Then what is it?" said Rabourdin.

"All in three words," she said; "I owe thirty thousand francs."

Rabourdin caught his wife to his heart with a gesture of almost

frantic joy, and seated her on his knee.

"Take comfort, dear," he said, in a tone of voice so adorably kind

that the bitterness of her grief was changed to something

inexpressibly tender. "I too have made mistakes; I have worked

uselessly for my country when I thought I was being useful to her. But

now I mean to take another path. If I had sold groceries we should now

be millionaires. Well, let us be grocers. You are only twenty-eight,

dear angel; in ten years you shall recover the luxury that you love,

which we must needs renounce for a short time. I, too, dear heart, am

not a base or common husband. We will sell our farm; its value has

increased of late. That and the sale of our furniture will pay my

debts.

MY debts! Celestine embraced her husband a thousand times in the

single kiss with which she thanked him for that generous word.

"We shall still have a hundred thousand francs to put into business.

Before the month is out I shall find some favorable opening. If luck

gave a Martin Falleix to a Saillard, why should we despair? Wait

breakfast for me. I am going now to the ministry, but I shall come

back with my neck free of the yoke."

Celestine clasped her husband in her arms with a force men do not

possess, even in their passionate moments; for women are stronger

through emotion than men through power. She wept and laughed and

sobbed in turns.

When Rabourdin left the house at eight o'clock, the porter gave him

the satirical cards suggested by Bixiou. Nevertheless, he went to the

ministry, where he found Sebastien waiting near the door to entreat

him not to enter any of the bureaus, because an infamous caricature of

him was making the round of the offices.

"If you wish to soften the pain of my downfall," he said to the lad,

"bring me that drawing; I am now taking my resignation to Ernest de la

Briere myself, that it may not be altered or distorted while passing

through the routine channels. I have my own reasons for wishing to see

that caricature."

When Rabourdin came back to the courtyard, after making sure that his

letter would go straight into the minister's hands, he found Sebastien

in tears, with a copy of the lithograph, which the lad reluctantly

handed over to him.

"It is very clever," said Rabourdin, showing a serene brow to his

companion, though the crown of thorns was on it all the same.

He entered the bureaus with a calm air, and went at once into

Baudoyer's section to ask him to come to the office of the head of the

division and receive instructions as to the business which that

incapable being was henceforth to direct.

"Tell Monsieur Baudoyer that there must be no delay," he added, in the

hearing of all the clerks; "my resignation is already in the

minister's hands, and I do not wish to stay here longer than is

necessary."

Seeing Bixiou, Rabourdin went straight up to him, showed him the

lithograph, and said, to the great astonishment of all present,--

"Was I not right in saying you were an artist? Still, it is a pity you

directed the point of your pencil against a man who cannot be judged

in this way, nor indeed by the bureaus at all;--but everything is

laughed at in France, even God."

Then he took Baudoyer into the office of the late La Billardiere. At

the door he found Phellion and Sebastien, the only two who, under his

great disaster, dared to remain openly faithful to the fallen man.

Rabourdin noticed that Phellion's eyes were moist, and he could not

refrain from wringing his hand.

"Monsieur," said the good man, "if we can serve you in any way, make

use of us."

Monsieur Rabourdin shut himself up in the late chief's office with

Monsieur Baudoyer, and Phellion helped him to show the new incumbent

all the administrative difficulties of his new position. At each

separate affair which Rabourdin carefully explained, Baudoyer's little

eyes grew big as saucers.

"Farewell, monsieur," said Rabourdin at last, with a manner that was

half-solemn, half-satirical.

Sebastien meanwhile had made up a package of papers and letters

belonging to his chief and had carried them away in a hackney coach.

Rabourdin passed through the grand courtyard, while all the clerks

were watching from the windows, and waited there a moment to see if

the minister would send him any message. His Excellency was dumb.

Phellion courageously escorted the fallen man to his home, expressing

his feelings of respectful admiration; then he returned to the office,

and took up his work, satisfied with his own conduct in rendering

these funeral honors to the neglected and misjudged administrative

talent.

Bixiou [seeing Phellion re-enter]. "Victrix cause diis placuit, sed

victa Catoni."

Phellion. "Yes, monsieur."

Poiret. "What does that mean?"

Fleury. "That priests rejoice, and Monsieur Rabourdin has the respect

of men of honor."

Dutocq [annoyed]. "You didn't say that yesterday."

Fleury. "If you address me you'll have my hand in your face. It is

known for certain that you filched those papers from Monsieur

Rabourdin." [Dutocq leaves the office.] "Oh, yes, go and complain to

your Monsieur des Lupeaulx, spy!"

Bixiou [laughing and grimacing like a monkey]. "I am curious to know

how the division will get along. Monsieur Rabourdin is so remarkable a

man that he must have had some special views in that work of his.

Well, the minister loses a fine mind." [Rubs his hands.]

Laurent [entering]. "Monsieur Fleury is requested to go to the

secretary's office."

All the clerks. "Done for!"

Fleury [leaving the room]. "I don't care; I am offered a place as

responsible editor. I shall have all my time to myself to lounge the

streets or do amusing work in a newspaper office."

Bixiou. "Dutocq has already made them cut off the head of that poor

Desroys."

Colleville [entering joyously]. "Gentlemen, I am appointed head of

this bureau."

Thuillier. "Ah, my friend, if it were I myself, I couldn't be better

pleased."

Bixiou. "His wife has managed it." [Laughter.]

Poiret. "Will any one tell me the meaning of all that is happening

here to-day?"

Bixiou. "Do you really want to know? Then listen. The antechamber of

the administration is henceforth a chamber, the court is a boudoir,

the best way to get in is through the cellar, and the bed is more than

ever a cross-cut."

Poiret. "Monsieur Bixiou, may I entreat you, explain?"

Bixiou. "I'll paraphrase my opinion. To be anything at all you must

begin by being everything. It is quite certain that a reform of this

service is needed; for on my word of honor, the State robs the poor

officials as much as the officials rob the State in the matter of

hours. But why is it that we idle as we do? because they pay us too

little; and the reason of that is we are too many for the work, and

your late chief, the virtuous Rabourdin, saw all this plainly. That

great administrator,--for he was that, gentlemen,--saw what the thing

is coming to, the thing that these idiots call the 'working of our

admirable institutions.' The chamber will want before long to

administrate, and the administrators will want to legislate. The

government will try to administrate and the administrators will want

to govern, and so it will go on. Laws will come to be mere

regulations, and ordinances will be thought laws. God made this epoch

of the world for those who like to laugh. I live in a state of jovial

admiration of the spectacle which the greatest joker of modern times,

Louis XVIII., bequeathed to us" [general stupefaction]. "Gentlemen, if

France, the country with the best civil service in Europe, is managed

thus, what do you suppose the other nations are like? Poor unhappy

nations! I ask myself how they can possibly get along without two

Chambers, without the liberty of the press, without reports, without

circulars even, without an army of clerks? Dear, dear, how do you

suppose they have armies and navies? how can they exist at all without

political discussions? Can they even be called nations, or

governments? It is said (mere traveller's tales) that these strange

peoples claim to have a policy, to wield a certain influence; but

that's absurd! how can they when they haven't 'progress' or 'new

lights'? They can't stir up ideas, they haven't an independent forum;

they are still in the twilight of barbarism. There are no people in

the world but the French people who have ideas. Can you understand,

Monsieur Poiret," [Poiret jumped as if he had been shot] "how a nation

can do without heads of divisions, general-secretaries and directors,

and all this splendid array of officials, the glory of France and of

the Emperor Napoleon,--who had his own good reasons for creating a

myriad of offices? I don't see how those nations have the audacity to

live at all. There's Austria, which has less than a hundred clerks in

her war ministry, while the salaries and pensions of ours amount to a

third of our whole budget, a thing that was unheard of before the

Revolution. I sum up all I've been saying in one single remark,

namely, that the Academy of Inscriptions and Belles-lettres, which

seems to have very little to do, had better offer a prize for the

ablest answer to the following question: Which is the best organized

State; the one that does many things with few officials, or the one

that does next to nothing with an army of them?"

Poiret. "Is that your last word?"

Bixiou. "Yes, sir! whether English, French, German or Italian,--I let

you off the other languages."

Poiret [lifting his hands to heaven]. "Gracious goodness! and they

call you a witty man!"

Bixiou. "Haven't you understood me yet?"

Phellion. "Your last observation was full of excellent sense."

Bixiou. "Just as full as the budget itself, and like the budget again,

as complicated as it looks simple; and I set it as a warning, a

beacon, at the edge of this hole, this gulf, this volcano, called, in

the language of the 'Constitutionel,' 'the political horizon.'"

Poiret. "I should much prefer a comprehensible explanation."

Bixiou. "Hurrah for Rabourdin! there's my explanation; that's my

opinion. Are you satisfied?"

Colleville [gravely]. "Monsieur Rabourdin had but one defect."

Poiret. "What was it?"

Colleville. "That of being a statesman instead of a subordinate

official."

Phellion [standing before Bixiou]. "Monsieur! why did you, who

understand Monsieur Rabourdin so well, why did you make that inf--that

odi--that hideous caricature?"

Bixiou. "Do you forget our bet? don't you know I was backing the

devil's game, and that your bureau owes me a dinner at the Rocher de

Cancale?"

Poiret [much put-out]. "Then it is a settled thing that I am to leave

this government office without ever understanding a sentence, or a

single word uttered by Monsieur Bixiou."

Bixiou. "It is your own fault; ask these gentlemen. Gentlemen, have

you understood the meaning of my observations? and were those

observations just, and brilliant?"

All. "Alas, yes!"

Minard. "And the proof is that I shall send in my resignation. I shall

plunge into industrial avocations."

Bixiou. "What! have you managed to invent a mechanical corset, or a

baby's bottle, or a fire engine, or chimneys that consume no fuel, or

ovens which cook cutlets with three sheets of paper?"

Minard [departing.] "Adieu, I shall keep my secret."

Bixiou. "Well, young Poiret junior, you see,--all these gentlemen

understand me."

Poiret [crest-fallen]. "Monsieur Bixiou, would you do me the honor to

come down for once to my level and speak in a language I can

understand?"

Bixiou [winking at the rest]. "Willingly." [Takes Poiret by the button

of his frock-coat.] "Before you leave this office forever perhaps you

would be glad to know what you are--"

Poiret [quickly]. "An honest man, monsieur."

Bixiou [shrugging his shoulders]. "--to be able to define, explain,

and analyze precisely what a government clerk is? Do you know what he

is?"

Poiret. "I think I do."

Bixiou [twisting the button]. "I doubt it."

Poiret. "He is a man paid by government to do work."

Bixiou. "Oh! then a soldier is a government clerk?"

Poiret [puzzled]. "Why, no."

Bixiou. "But he is paid by the government to do work, to mount guard

and show off at reviews. You may perhaps tell me that he longs to get

out of his place,--that he works too hard and fingers too little

metal, except that of his musket."

Poiret [his eyes wide open]. "Monsieur, a government clerk is,

logically speaking, a man who needs the salary to maintain himself,

and is not free to get out of his place; for he doesn't know how to do

anything but copy papers."

Bixiou. "Ah! now we are coming to a conclusion. So the bureau is the

clerk's shell, husk, pod. No clerk without a bureau, no bureau without

a clerk. But what do you make, then, of a customs officer?" [Poiret

shuffles his feet and tries to edge away; Bixiou twists off one button

and catches him by another.] "He is, from the bureaucratic point of

view, a neutral being. The excise-man is only half a clerk; he is on

the confines between civil and military service; neither altogether

soldier nor altogether clerk-- Here, here, where are you going?"

[Twists the button.] "Where does the government clerk proper end?

That's a serious question. Is a prefect a clerk?"

Poiret [hesitating]. "He is a functionary."

Bixiou. "But you don't mean that a functionary is not a clerk? that's

an absurdity."

Poiret [weary and looking round for escape]. "I think Monsieur Godard

wants to say something."

Godard. "The clerk is the order, the functionary the species."

Bixiou [laughing]. "I shouldn't have thought you capable of that

distinction, my brave subordinate."

Poiret [trying to get away]. "Incomprehensible!"

Bixiou. "La, la, papa, don't step on your tether. If you stand still

and listen, we shall come to an understanding before long. Now, here's

an axiom which I bequeath to this bureau and to all bureaus: Where the

clerk ends, the functionary begins; where the functionary ends, the

statesman rises. There are very few statesmen among the prefects. The

prefect is therefore a neutral being among the higher species. He

comes between the statesman and the clerk, just as the custom-house

officer stands between the civil and the military. Let us continue to

clear up these important points." [Poiret turns crimson with

distress.] "Suppose we formulate the whole matter in a maxim worthy of

Larochefoucault: Officials with salaries of twenty thousand francs are

not clerks. From which we may deduce mathematically this corollary:

The statesman first looms up in the sphere of higher salaries; and

also this second and not less logical and important corollary:

Directors-general may be statesmen. Perhaps it is in that sense that

more than one deputy says in his heart, 'It is a fine thing to be a

director-general.' But in the interests of our noble French language

and of the Academy--"

Poiret [magnetized by the fixity of Bixiou's eye]. "The French

language! the Academy!"

Bixiou [twisting off the second button and seizing another]. "Yes, in

the interests of our noble tongue, it is proper to observe that

although the head of a bureau, strictly speaking, may be called a

clerk, the head of a division must be called a bureaucrat. These

gentlemen" [turning to the clerks and privately showing them the third

button off Poiret's coat] "will appreciate this delicate shade of

meaning. And so, papa Poiret, don't you see it is clear that the

government clerk comes to a final end at the head of a division? Now

that question once settled, there is no longer any uncertainty; the

government clerk who has hitherto seemed undefinable is defined."

Poiret. "Yes, that appears to me beyond a doubt."

Bixiou. "Nevertheless, do me the kindness to answer the following

question: A judge being irremovable, and consequently debarred from

being, according to your subtle distinction, a functionary, and

receiving a salary which is not the equivalent of the work he does, is

he to be included in the class of clerks?"

Poiret [gazing at the cornice]. "Monsieur, I don't follow you."

Bixiou [getting off the fourth button]. "I wanted to prove to you,

monsieur, that nothing is simple; but above all--and what I am going

to say is intended for philosophers--I wish (if you'll allow me to

misquote a saying of Louis XVIII.),--I wish to make you see that

definitions lead to muddles."

Poiret [wiping his forehead]. "Excuse me, I am sick at my stomach"

[tries to button his coat]. "Ah! you have cut off all my buttons!"

Bixiou. "But the point is, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"

Poiret [angrily]. "Yes, monsieur, I do; I understand that you have

been playing me a shameful trick and twisting off my buttons while I

have been standing here unconscious of it."

Bixiou [solemnly]. "Old man, you are mistaken! I wished to stamp upon

your brain the clearest possible image of constitutional government"

[all the clerks look at Bixiou; Poiret, stupefied, gazes at him

uneasily], "and also to keep my word to you. In so doing I employed

the parabolical method of savages. Listen and comprehend: While the

ministers start discussions in the Chambers that are just about as

useful and as conclusive as the one we are engaged in, the

administration cuts the buttons off the tax-payers."

All. "Bravo, Bixiou!"

Poiret [who comprehends]. "I don't regret my buttons."

Bixiou. "I shall follow Minard's example; I won't pocket such a

paltry salary as mine any longer; I shall deprive the government of my

co-operation." [Departs amid general laughter.]

Another scene was taking place in the minister's reception-room, more

instructive than the one we have just related, because it shows how

great ideas are allowed to perish in the higher regions of State

affairs, and in what way statesmen console themselves.

Des Lupeaulx was presenting the new director, Monsieur Baudoyer, to

the minister. A number of persons were assembled in the salon,--two or

three ministerial deputies, a few men of influence, and Monsieur

Clergeot (whose division was now merged with La Billardiere's under

Baudoyer's direction), to whom the minister was promising an honorable

pension. After a few general remarks, the great event of the day was

brought up.

A deputy. "So you lose Rabourdin?"

Des Lupeaulx. "He has resigned."

Clergeot. "They say he wanted to reform the administration."

The Minister [looking at the deputies]. "Salaries are not really in

proportion to the exigencies of the civil service."

De la Briere. "According to Monsieur Rabourdin, one hundred clerks

with a salary of twelve thousand francs would do better and quicker

work than a thousand clerks at twelve hundred."

Clergeot. "Perhaps he is right."

The Minister. "But what is to be done? The machine is built in that

way. Must we take it to pieces and remake it? No one would have the

courage to attempt that in face of the Chamber, and the foolish

outcries of the Opposition, and the fierce denunciations of the press.

It follows that there will happen, one of these days, some damaging

'solution of continuity' between the government and the

administration."

A deputy. "In what way?"

The Minister. "In many ways. A minister will want to serve the public

good, and will not be allowed to do so. You will create interminable

delays between things and their results. You may perhaps render the

theft of a penny actually impossible, but you cannot prevent the

buying and selling of influence, the collusions of self-interest. The

day will come when nothing will be conceded without secret

stipulations, which may never see the light. Moreover, the clerks, one

and all, from the least to the greatest, are acquiring opinions of

their own; they will soon be no longer the hands of a brain, the

scribes of governmental thought; the Opposition even now tends towards

giving them a right to judge the government and to talk and vote

against it."

Baudoyer [in a low voice, but meaning to be heard]. "Monseigneur is

really fine."

Des Lupeaulx. "Of course bureaucracy has its defects. I myself think

it slow and insolent; it hampers ministerial action, stifles projects,

and arrests progress. But, after all, French administration is

amazingly useful."

Baudoyer. "Certainly!"

Des Lupeaulx. "If only to maintain the paper and stamp industries!

Suppose it is rather fussy and provoking, like all good housekeepers,

--it can at any moment render an account of its disbursements. Where

is the merchant who would not gladly give five per cent of his entire

capital if he could insure himself against LEAKAGE?"

The Deputy [a manufacturer]. "The manufacturing interests of all

nations would joyfully unite against that evil genius of theirs called

leakage."

Des Lupeaulx. "After all, though statistics are the childish foible of

modern statesmen, who think that figures are estimates, we must cipher

to estimate. Figures are, moreover, the convincing argument of

societies based on self-interest and money, and that is the sort of

society the Charter has given us,--in my opinion, at any rate. Nothing

convinces the 'intelligent masses' as much as a row of figures. All

things in the long run, say the statesmen of the Left, resolve

themselves into figures. Well then, let us figure" [the minister here

goes off into a corner with a deputy, to whom he talks in a low

voice]. "There are forty thousand government clerks in France. The

average of their salaries is fifteen hundred francs. Multiply forty

thousand by fifteen hundred and you have sixty millions. Now, in the

first place, a publicist would call the attention of Russia and China

(where all government officials steal), also that of Austria, the

American republics, and indeed that of the whole world, to the fact

that for this price France possesses the most inquisitorial, fussy,

ferreting, scribbling, paper-blotting, fault-finding old housekeeper

of a civil service on God's earth. Not a copper farthing of the

nation's money is spent or hoarded that is not ordered by a note,

proved by vouchers, produced and re-produced on balance-sheets, and

receipted for when paid; orders and receipts are registered on the

rolls, and checked and verified by an army of men in spectacles. If

there is the slightest mistake in the form of these precious

documents, the clerk is terrified, for he lives on such minutiae. Some

nations would be satisfied to get as far as this; but Napoleon went

further. That great organizer appointed supreme magistrates of a court

which is absolutely unique in the world. These officials pass their

days in verifying money-orders, documents, roles, registers, lists,

permits, custom-house receipts, payments, taxes received, taxes spent,

etc.; all of which the clerks write or copy. These stern judges push

the gift of exactitude, the genius of inquisition, the sharp-

sightedness of lynxes, the perspicacity of account-books to the point

of going over all the additions in search of subtractions. These

sublime martyrs to figures have been known to return to an army

commissary, after a delay of two years, some account in which there

was an error of two farthings. This is how and why it is that the

French system of administration, the purest and best on the globe has

rendered robbery, as his Excellency has just told you, next to

impossible, and as for peculation, it is a myth. France at this

present time possesses a revenue of twelve hundred millions, and she

spends it. That sum enters her treasury, and that sum goes out of it.

She handles, therefore, two thousand four hundred millions, and all

she pays for the labor of those who do the work is sixty millions,--

two and a half per cent; and for that she obtains the certainty that

there is no leakage. Our political and administrative kitchen costs us

sixty millions, but the gendarmerie, the courts of law, the galleys

and the police cost just as much, and give no return. Moreover, we

employ a body of men who could do no other work. Waste and disorder,

if such there be, can only be legislative; the Chambers lead to them

and render them legal. Leakage follows in the form of public works

which are neither urgent nor necessary; troops re-uniformed and

gold-laced over and over again; vessels sent on useless cruises;

preparations for war without ever making it; paying the debts of a

State, and not requiring reimbursement or insisting on security."

Baudoyer. "But such leakage has nothing to do with the subordinate

officials; this bad management of national affairs concerns the

statesmen who guide the ship."

The Minister [who has finished his conversation]. "There is a great

deal of truth in what des Lupeaulx has just said; but let me tell you"

[to Baudoyer], "Monsieur le directeur, that few men see from the

standpoint of a statesman. To order expenditure of all kinds, even

useless ones, does not constitute bad management. Such acts contribute

to the movement of money, the stagnation of which becomes, especially

in France, dangerous to the public welfare, by reason of the miserly

and profoundly illogical habits of the provinces which hoard their

gold."

The Deputy [who listened to des Lupeaulx]. "But it seems to me that if

your Excellency was right just now, and if our clever friend here"

[takes Lupeaulx by the arm] "was not wrong, it will be difficult to

come to any conclusion on the subject."

Des Lupeaulx [after looking at the minister]. "No doubt something

ought to be done."

De la Briere [timidly]. "Monsieur Rabourdin seems to have judged

rightly."

The Minister. "I will see Rabourdin."

Des Lupeaulx. "The poor man made the blunder of constituting himself

supreme judge of the administration and of all the officials who

compose it; he wants to do away with the present state of things, and

he demands that there be only three ministries."

The Minister. "He must be crazy."

The Deputy. "How do you represent in three ministries the heads of all

the parties in the Chamber?"

Baudoyer [with an air that he imagined to be shrewd]. "Perhaps

Monsieur Rabourdin desired to change the Constitution, which we owe to

our legislative sovereign."

The Minister [thoughtful, takes La Briere's arm and leads him into the

study]. "I want to see that work of Rabourdin's, and as you know about

it--"

De la Briere. "He has burned it. You allowed him to be dishonored and

he has resigned from the ministry. Do not think for a moment,

Monseigneur, that Rabourdin ever had the absurd thought (as des

Lupeaulx tries to make it believed) to change the admirable

centralization of power."

The Minister [to himself]. "I have made a mistake" [is silent a

moment]. "No matter; we shall never be lacking in plans for reform."

De la Briere. "It is not ideas, but men capable of executing them that

we lack."

Des Lupeaulx, that adroit advocate of abuses came into the minister's

study at this moment.

"Monseigneur, I start at once for my election."

"Wait a moment," said his Excellency, leaving the private secretary

and taking des Lupeaulx by the arm into the recess of a window. "My

dear friend, let me have that arrondissement,--if you will, you shall

be made count and I will pay your debts. Later, if I remain in the

ministry after the new Chamber is elected, I will find a way to send

in your name in a batch for the peerage."

"You are a man of honor, and I accept."

This is how it came to pass that Clement Chardin des Lupeaulx, whose

father was ennobled under Louis XV., and who beareth quarterly, first,

argent, a wolf ravisant carrying a lamb gules; second, purpure, three

mascles argent, two and one; third, paly of twelve, gules and argent;

fourth, or, on a pale endorsed, three batons fleurdelises gules;

supported by four griffon's-claws jessant from the sides of the

escutcheon, with the motto "En Lupus in Historia," was able to

surmount these rather satirical arms with a count's coronet.

Towards the close of the year 1830 Monsieur Rabourdin did some

business on hand which required him to visit the old ministry, where

the bureaus had all been in great commotion, owing to a general

removal of officials, from the highest to the lowest. This revolution

bore heaviest, in point of fact, upon the lackeys, who are not fond of

seeing new faces. Rabourdin had come early, knowing all the ways of

the place, and he thus chanced to overhear a dialogue between the two

nephews of old Antoine, who had recently retired on a pension.

"Well, Laurent, how is your chief of division going on?"

"Oh, don't talk to me about him; I can't do anything with him. He

rings me up to ask if I have seen his handkerchief or his snuff-box.

He receives people without making them wait; in short, he hasn't a bit

of dignity. I'm often obliged to say to him: But, monsieur, monsieur

le comte your predecessor, for the credit of the thing, used to punch

holes with his penknife in the arms of his chair to make believe he