Complete works of gustav.., p.183
Complete Works of Gustave Flaubert, page 183
Frederick arose. There was a buzz of approval made by his friends. But Sénécal, assuming the attitude of a Fouquier-Tinville, began to ask questions as to his Christian name and surname, his antecedents, life, and morals.
Frederick answered succinctly, and bit his lips. Sénécal asked whether anyone saw any impediment to this candidature.
"No! no!"
But, for his part, he saw some. All around him bent forward and strained their ears to listen. The citizen who was seeking for their support had not delivered a certain sum promised by him for the foundation of a democratic journal. Moreover, on the twenty-second of February, though he had had sufficient notice on the subject, he had failed to be at the meeting-place in the Place de Panthéon.
"I swear that he was at the Tuileries!" exclaimed Dussardier.
"Can you swear to having seen him at the Panthéon?"
Dussardier hung down his head. Frederick was silent. His friends, scandalised, regarded him with disquietude.
"In any case," Sénécal went on, "do you know a patriot who will answer to us for your principles?"
"I will!" said Dussardier.
"Oh! this is not enough; another!"
Frederick turned round to Pellerin. The artist replied to him with a great number of gestures, which meant:
"Ah! my dear boy, they have rejected myself! The deuce! What would you have?"
Thereupon Frederick gave Regimbart a nudge.
"Yes, that's true; 'tis time! I'm going."
And Regimbart stepped upon the platform; then, pointing towards the Spaniard, who had followed him:
"Allow me, citizens, to present to you a patriot from Barcelona!"
The patriot made a low bow, rolled his gleaming eyes about, and with his hand on his heart:
"Ciudadanos! mucho aprecio el honor that you have bestowed on me! however great may be vuestra bondad, mayor vuestra atención!"
"I claim the right to speak!" cried Frederick.
"Desde que se proclamo la constitutión de Cadiz, ese pacto fundamental of las libertades Españolas, hasta la ultima revolución, nuestra patria cuenta numerosos y heroicos mártires."
Frederick once more made an effort to obtain a hearing:
"But, citizens! — --"
The Spaniard went on: "El martes proximo tendra lugar en la iglesia de la Magdelena un servicio fúnebre."
"In fact, this is ridiculous! Nobody understands him!"
This observation exasperated the audience.
"Turn him out! Turn him out!"
"Who? I?" asked Frederick.
"Yourself!" said Sénécal, majestically. "Out with you!"
He rose to leave, and the voice of the Iberian pursued him:
"Y todos los Españoles descarien ver alli reunidas las disputaciónes de los clubs y de la milicia nacional. An oración fúnebre en honour of the libertad Española y del mundo entero will be prononciado por un miembro del clero of Paris en la sala Bonne Nouvelle. Honour al pueblo frances que llamaria yo el primero pueblo del mundo, sino fuese ciudadano de otra nación!"
"Aristo!" screamed one blackguard, shaking his fist at Frederick, as the latter, boiling with indignation, rushed out into the yard adjoining the place where the meeting was held.
He reproached himself for his devotedness, without reflecting that, after all, the accusations brought against him were just.
What fatal idea was this candidature! But what asses! what idiots! He drew comparisons between himself and these men, and soothed his wounded pride with the thought of their stupidity.
Then he felt the need of seeing Rosanette. After such an exhibition of ugly traits, and so much magniloquence, her dainty person would be a source of relaxation. She was aware that he had intended to present himself at a club that evening. However, she did not even ask him a single question when he came in. She was sitting near the fire, ripping open the lining of a dress. He was surprised to find her thus occupied.
"Hallo! what are you doing?"
"You can see for yourself," said she, dryly. "I am mending my clothes! So much for this Republic of yours!"
"Why do you call it mine?"
"Perhaps you want to make out that it's mine!"
And she began to upbraid him for everything that had happened in France for the last two months, accusing him of having brought about the Revolution and with having ruined her prospects by making everybody that had money leave Paris, and that she would by-and-by be dying in a hospital.
"It is easy for you to talk lightly about it, with your yearly income! However, at the rate at which things are going on, you won't have your yearly income long."
"That may be," said Frederick. "The most devoted are always misunderstood, and if one were not sustained by one's conscience, the brutes that you mix yourself up with would make you feel disgusted with your own self-denial!"
Rosanette gazed at him with knitted brows.
"Eh? What? What self-denial? Monsieur has not succeeded, it would seem? So much the better! It will teach you to make patriotic donations. Oh, don't lie! I know you have given them three hundred francs, for this Republic of yours has to be kept. Well, amuse yourself with it, my good man!"
Under this avalanche of abuse, Frederick passed from his former disappointment to a more painful disillusion.
He withdrew to the lower end of the apartment. She came up to him.
"Look here! Think it out a bit! In a country as in a house, there must be a master, otherwise, everyone pockets something out of the money spent. At first, everybody knows that Ledru-Rollin is head over ears in debt. As for Lamartine, how can you expect a poet to understand politics? Ah! 'tis all very well for you to shake your head and to presume that you have more brains than others; all the same, what I say is true! But you are always cavilling; a person can't get in a word with you! For instance, there's Fournier-Fontaine, who had stores at Saint-Roch! do you know how much he failed for? Eight hundred thousand francs! And Gomer, the packer opposite to him — another Republican, that one — he smashed the tongs on his wife's head, and he drank so much absinthe that he is going to be put into a private asylum. That's the way with the whole of them — the Republicans! A Republic at twenty-five percent. Ah! yes! plume yourself upon it!"
Frederick took himself off. He was disgusted at the foolishness of this girl, which revealed itself all at once in the language of the populace. He felt himself even becoming a little patriotic once more.
The ill-temper of Rosanette only increased. Mademoiselle Vatnaz irritated him with her enthusiasm. Believing that she had a mission, she felt a furious desire to make speeches, to carry on disputes, and — sharper than Rosanette in matters of this sort — overwhelmed her with arguments.
One day she made her appearance burning with indignation against Hussonnet, who had just indulged in some blackguard remarks at the Woman's Club. Rosanette approved of this conduct, declaring even that she would take men's clothes to go and "give them a bit of her mind, the entire lot of them, and to whip them."
Frederick entered at the same moment.
"You'll accompany me — won't you?"
And, in spite of his presence, a bickering match took place between them, one of them playing the part of a citizen's wife and the other of a female philosopher.
According to Rosanette, women were born exclusively for love, or in order to bring up children, to be housekeepers.
According to Mademoiselle Vatnaz, women ought to have a position in the Government. In former times, the Gaulish women, and also the Anglo-Saxon women, took part in the legislation; the squaws of the Hurons formed a portion of the Council. The work of civilisation was common to both. It was necessary that all should contribute towards it, and that fraternity should be substituted for egoism, association for individualism, and cultivation on a large scale for minute subdivision of land.
"Come, that is good! you know a great deal about culture just now!"
"Why not? Besides, it is a question of humanity, of its future!"
"Mind your own business!"
"This is my business!"
They got into a passion. Frederick interposed. The Vatnaz became very heated, and went so far as to uphold Communism.
"What nonsense!" said Rosanette. "How could such a thing ever come to pass?"
The other brought forward in support of her theory the examples of the Essenes, the Moravian Brethren, the Jesuits of Paraguay, the family of the Pingons near Thiers in Auvergne; and, as she gesticulated a great deal, her gold chain got entangled in her bundle of trinkets, to which was attached a gold ornament in the form of a sheep.
Suddenly, Rosanette turned exceedingly pale.
Mademoiselle Vatnaz continued extricating her trinkets.
"Don't give yourself so much trouble," said Rosanette. "Now, I know your political opinions."
"What?" replied the Vatnaz, with a blush on her face like that of a virgin.
"Oh! oh! you understand me."
Frederick did not understand. There had evidently been something taking place between them of a more important and intimate character than Socialism.
"And even though it should be so," said the Vatnaz in reply, rising up unflinchingly. "'Tis a loan, my dear — set off one debt against the other."
"Faith, I don't deny my own debts. I owe some thousands of francs — a nice sum. I borrow, at least; I don't rob anyone."
Mademoiselle Vatnaz made an effort to laugh.
"Oh! I would put my hand in the fire for him."
"Take care! it is dry enough to burn."
The spinster held out her right hand to her, and keeping it raised in front of her:
"But there are friends of yours who find it convenient for them."
"Andalusians, I suppose? as castanets?"
"You beggar!"
The Maréchale made her a low bow.
"There's nobody so charming!"
Mademoiselle Vatnaz made no reply. Beads of perspiration appeared on her temples. Her eyes fixed themselves on the carpet. She panted for breath. At last she reached the door, and slamming it vigorously: "Good night! You'll hear from me!"
"Much I care!" said Rosanette. The effort of self-suppression had shattered her nerves. She sank down on the divan, shaking all over, stammering forth words of abuse, shedding tears. Was it this threat on the part of the Vatnaz that had caused so much agitation in her mind? Oh, no! what did she care, indeed, about that one? It was the golden sheep, a present, and in the midst of her tears the name of Delmar escaped her lips. So, then, she was in love with the mummer?
"In that case, why did she take on with me?" Frederick asked himself. "How is it that he has come back again? Who compels her to keep me? Where is the sense of this sort of thing?"
Rosanette was still sobbing. She remained all the time stretched at the edge of the divan, with her right cheek resting on her two hands, and she seemed a being so dainty, so free from self-consciousness, and so sorely troubled, that he drew closer to her and softly kissed her on the forehead.
Thereupon she gave him assurances of her affection for him; the Prince had just left her, they would be free. But she was for the time being short of money. "You saw yourself that this was so, the other day, when I was trying to turn my old linings to use." No more equipages now! And this was not all; the upholsterer was threatening to resume possession of the bedroom and the large drawing-room furniture. She did not know what to do.
Frederick had a mind to answer:
"Don't annoy yourself about it. I will pay."
But the lady knew how to lie. Experience had enlightened her. He confined himself to mere expressions of sympathy.
Rosanette's fears were not vain. It was necessary to give up the furniture and to quit the handsome apartment in the Rue Drouot. She took another on the Boulevard Poissonnière, on the fourth floor.
The curiosities of her old boudoir were quite sufficient to give to the three rooms a coquettish air. There were Chinese blinds, a tent on the terrace, and in the drawing-room a second-hand carpet still perfectly new, with ottomans covered with pink silk. Frederick had contributed largely to these purchases. He had felt the joy of a newly-married man who possesses at last a house of his own, a wife of his own — and, being much pleased with the place, he used to sleep there nearly every evening.
One morning, as he was passing out through the anteroom, he saw, on the third floor, on the staircase, the shako of a National Guard who was ascending it. Where in the world was he going?
Frederick waited. The man continued his progress up the stairs, with his head slightly bent down. He raised his eyes. It was my lord Arnoux!
The situation was clear. They both reddened simultaneously, overcome by a feeling of embarrassment common to both.
Arnoux was the first to find a way out of the difficulty.
"She is better — isn't that so?" as if Rosanette were ill, and he had come to learn how she was.
Frederick took advantage of this opening.
"Yes, certainly! at least, so I was told by her maid," wishing to convey that he had not been allowed to see her.
Then they stood facing each other, both undecided as to what they would do next, and eyeing one another intently. The question now was, which of the two was going to remain. Arnoux once more solved the problem.
"Pshaw! I'll come back by-and-by. Where are you going? I go with you!"
And, when they were in the street, he chatted as naturally as usual. Unquestionably he was not a man of jealous disposition, or else he was too good-natured to get angry. Besides, his time was devoted to serving his country. He never left off his uniform now. On the twenty-ninth of March he had defended the offices of the Presse. When the Chamber was invaded, he distinguished himself by his courage, and he was at the banquet given to the National Guard at Amiens.
Hussonnet, who was still on duty with him, availed himself of his flask and his cigars; but, irreverent by nature, he delighted in contradicting him, disparaging the somewhat inaccurate style of the decrees; and decrying the conferences at the Luxembourg, the women known as the "Vésuviennes," the political section bearing the name of "Tyroliens"; everything, in fact, down to the Car of Agriculture, drawn by horses to the ox-market, and escorted by ill-favoured young girls. Arnoux, on the other hand, was the upholder of authority, and dreamed of uniting the different parties. However, his own affairs had taken an unfavourable turn, and he was more or less anxious about them.
He was not much troubled about Frederick's relations with the Maréchale; for this discovery made him feel justified (in his conscience) in withdrawing the allowance which he had renewed since the Prince had left her. He pleaded by way of excuse for this step the embarrassed condition in which he found himself, uttered many lamentations — and Rosanette was generous. The result was that M. Arnoux regarded himself as the lover who appealed entirely to the heart, an idea that raised him in his own estimation and made him feel young again. Having no doubt that Frederick was paying the Maréchale, he fancied that he was "playing a nice trick" on the young man, even called at the house in such a stealthy fashion as to keep the other in ignorance of the fact, and when they happened to meet, left the coast clear for him.
Frederick was not pleased with this partnership, and his rival's politeness seemed only an elaborate piece of sarcasm. But by taking offence at it, he would have removed from his path every opportunity of ever finding his way back to Madame Arnoux; and then, this was the only means whereby he could hear about her movements. The earthenware-dealer, in accordance with his usual practice, or perhaps with some cunning design, recalled her readily in the course of conversation, and asked him why he no longer came to see her.
Frederick, having exhausted every excuse he could frame, assured him that he had called several times to see Madame Arnoux, but without success. Arnoux was convinced that this was so, for he had often referred in an eager tone at home to the absence of their friend, and she had invariably replied that she was out when he called, so that these two lies, in place of contradicting, corroborated each other.
The young man's gentle ways and the pleasure of finding a dupe in him made Arnoux like him all the better. He carried familiarity to its extreme limits, not through disdain, but through assurance. One day he wrote saying that very urgent business compelled him to be away in the country for twenty-four hours. He begged of the young man to mount guard in his stead. Frederick dared not refuse, so he repaired to the guard-house in the Place du Carrousel.
He had to submit to the society of the National Guards, and, with the exception of a sugar-refiner, a witty fellow who drank to an inordinate extent, they all appeared to him more stupid than their cartridge-boxes. The principal subject of conversation amongst them was the substitution of sashes for belts. Others declaimed against the national workshops.
One man said:
"Where are we going?"
The man to whom the words had been addressed opened his eyes as if he were standing on the verge of an abyss.
"Where are we going?"
Then, one who was more daring than the rest exclaimed:
"It cannot last! It must come to an end!"
And as the same kind of talk went on till night, Frederick was bored to death.
Great was his surprise when, at eleven o'clock, he suddenly beheld Arnoux, who immediately explained that he had hurried back to set him at liberty, having disposed of his own business.
The fact was that he had no business to transact. The whole thing was an invention to enable him to spend twenty-four hours alone with Rosanette. But the worthy Arnoux had placed too much confidence in his own powers, so that, now in the state of lassitude which was the result, he was seized with remorse. He had come to thank Frederick, and to invite him to have some supper.
"A thousand thanks! I'm not hungry. All I want is to go to bed."
"A reason the more for having a snack together. How flabby you are! One does not go home at such an hour as this. It is too late! It would be dangerous!"
Frederick once more yielded. Arnoux was quite a favorite with his brethren-in-arms, who had not expected to see him — and he was a particular crony of the refiner. They were all fond of him, and he was such a good fellow that he was sorry Hussonnet was not there. But he wanted to shut his eyes for one minute, no longer.
