Sentimental Education (Barnes & Noble Classics Series) (49 page)

Dussardier, three days beforehand, had himself waxed the red floor of his garret, beaten the armchair, and knocked off the dust from the mantelpiece, on which stood an alabaster clock in a glass case between a stalactite and a cocoanut. As his two chandeliers and his chamber candlestick were not sufficient, he had borrowed two more candlesticks from the concierge; and these five lights shone on the top of the chest of drawers, which was covered with three napkins to provide a decent setting for serving some macaroons, biscuits, a fancy cake, and a dozen bottles of beer. At the opposite side, close to the wall, which was covered with yellow wall paper, there was a little mahogany bookcase containing the
Fables of Lachambeaudie,
the
Mysteries of Paris,
and Norvins’
Napoléon—
and
,
in the middle of the alcove, the face of Béranger was smiling in a rosewood frame.

The guests (in addition to Deslauriers and Sénécal) were an apothecary who had just qualified, but who had not enough capital to start a business for himself, a young man of his own firm, a wine-merchant, an architect, and a gentleman employed in an insurance office. Regimbart had not been able to come. Regret was expressed at his absence.

They welcomed Frédéric very cordially, as they all knew through Dussardier what he had said at M. Dambreuse’s house. Sénécal simply put out his hand in a dignified manner.

He remained standing near the mantelpiece. The others seated, with their pipes in their mouths, listened to him, speak about universal suffrage, from which he predicted as a result the triumph of Democracy and the practical application of the principles of the Gospel. However, the hour was at hand. The banquets of the reform party were becoming more numerous in the provinces.
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Piedmont, Naples, Tuscany—

“ ’Tis true,” said Deslauriers, interrupting him abruptly. “This cannot last much longer!”

And he began to draw a picture of the situation. We had sacrificed Holland to obtain from England the recognition of Louis Philippe; and this precious English alliance was lost, because of the Spanish marriages.
³⁰
In Switzerland, M. Guizot, towed along by the Austrian, supported the treaties of 1815. Prussia, with her Zollverein, was going to spell trouble for us. The Eastern question was still pending.

“The fact that the Grand Duke Constantine sends presents to M. d’Aumale is no reason for placing confidence in Russia. As for home affairs, never have so many blunders, such stupidity, been witnessed. The Government no longer even keeps it majority together. Everywhere, indeed according to the well-known expression, it is nothing! nothing! nothing! And in the face of such public scandals,” continued the lawyer, with his hands on his hips, “they declare themselves satisfied!”

The allusion to a notorious vote elicited applause. Dussardier uncorked a bottle of beer; the froth splashed on the curtains. He did not mind it. He filled the pipes, cut the cake, offered each of them a slice of it, and several times went downstairs to see whether the punch was coming up; and ere long they worked themselves up into a state of excitement, as they all felt equally exasperated against Power. Their rage was of a violent character for no other reason save that they hated injustice, and they mixed up with legitimate grievances the most idiotic complaints.

The apothecary groaned over the pitiful state of our fleet. The insurance agent could not tolerate Marshal Soult’s two sentinels. Deslauriers denounced the Jesuits, who had just installed themselves publicly at Lille.
^be
Sénécal execrated M. Cousin much more; for eclecticism, by teaching that truth can be deduced from reason, encouraged selfishness and destroyed solidarity. The wine-merchant, knowing very little about these matters, remarked in a very loud tone that he had forgotten many scandals:

“The royal carriage on the Northern railway line must have cost eighty thousand francs. Who’ll pay the amount?”

“Aye, who’ll pay the amount?” repeated the clerk, as angrily as if this amount had been drawn out of his own pocket.

Then followed recriminations against the crooks of the stock exchange and the corruption of officials. According to Sénécal they ought to go higher up, and lay the blame, first of all, on the princes who had revived the morals of the Regency period.

“Have you not lately seen the Duc de Montpensier’s friends coming back from Vincennes, no doubt in a state of intoxication, and disturbing the workmen of the Faubourg Saint-Antoine with their songs?”

“There was even a cry of ‘Down with the thieves!’ ” said the apothecary. “I was there, and I joined in the cry!”

“So much the better! The people are at last waking up since the Teste-Cubières case.”

“For my part, that case caused me some pain,” said Dussardier, “because it brought dishonour on an old soldier!”

“Do you know,” Sénécal went on, “what they have discovered at the Duchesse de Praslin’s house—?”

But here the door was sent flying open with a kick. Hussonnet entered.

“Hail, my lords,” said he, as he seated himself on the bed.

No allusion was made to his article, which he was sorry, however, for having written, as the Maréchale had sharply reprimanded him on account of it.

He had just seen at the Theatre de Dumas the
Chevalier de Maison-Rouge,
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and declared that it seemed to him a stupid play.

Such a criticism surprised the democrats, as this drama, by its tendency, or rather by its scenery, appealed to their most passionate beliefs. They protested. Sénécal, in order to bring this discussion to a close, asked whether the play served the cause of Democracy.

“Yes, perhaps; but it is written in a style—”

“Well, then, ‘tis a good play. What is style? ’Tis the idea!”

And, without allowing Frédéric to say a word:

“Now, I was pointing out that in the Praslin case—”

Hussonnet interrupted him:

“Ha! that’s another worn-out story! I’m sick of hearing it!”

“You aren’t the only one,” returned Deslauriers.

“It has only gotten five papers suppressed. Listen while I read this paragraph.”

And drawing his note-book out of his pocket, he read:

“ ‘We have, since the establishment of the best of republics, been subjected to twelve hundred and twenty-nine press prosecutions, from which the results to the writers have been imprisonment extending over a period of three thousand one hundred and forty-one years, and the small sum of seven million one hundred and ten thousand five hundred francs by way of fine.’ That’s charming, eh?”

They all sneered bitterly.

Frédéric, incensed against the others, broke in:

“The Democratie Pacifique
has had proceedings taken against it on account of its serial, a novel entitled
The Woman’s Share.”

“Come now! that’s good,” said Hussonnet. “Suppose they prevented us from having our share of the women!”

“But what is left that’s not prohibited?” exclaimed Deslauriers. “To smoke in the Luxembourg is prohibited; to sing the Hymn to Pius IX is prohibited!”
^bg

“And the printers’ banquet has been banned,” a soft voice said.

It was that of an architect, who had sat concealed in the shade of the alcove, and who had remained silent up to that moment. He added that, the week before, a man named Rouget had been convicted of insulting the king.

“That red mullet is fried,” said Hussonnet.
^bh

This joke appeared so improper to Sénécal, that he reproached Hussonnet for defending the Juggler of the Hotel de Ville, the friend of the traitor Dumouriez.
³¹

“I? quite the contrary!”

He considered Louis Philippe commonplace, a National Guard type like a grocer in a cotton night-cap! And laying his hand on his heart, the Bohemian uttered the rhetorical phrases:

“It is always with a renewed pleasure.... Polish nationality will not perish.... Our great enterprises will go on.... Give me some money for my little family....”

They all laughed loudly, declaring that he was a delightful fellow, full of wit. Their delight was doubled at the sight of the bowl of punch which was brought in by the keeper of a café.

The flames of the alcohol and those of the wax-candles soon heated the apartment, and the light from the garret, passing across the courtyard, illuminated the side of an opposite roof with the flue of a chimney, whose black outlines could be traced through the darkness of night. They talked in very loud voices all at the same time. They had taken off their coats; they bumped into the furniture; they clinked glasses.

Hussonnet exclaimed:

“Send up some great ladies, in order that this may be more Tour de Nesles,
^bi
have more local color, and be more Rembrandtesque!”

And the apothecary, who kept stirring the punch, began bellowing:

Sénécal put his hand over the apothecary’s mouth; he did not like rowdiness; and the tenants pressed their faces against the windows, surprised at the unusual uproar that was taking place in Dussardier’s room.

The good fellow was happy, and said that this reminded him of their little parties on the Quai Napoleon in days gone by; however, they missed many who used to be present at these reunions, “Pellerin, for instance.”

“We can do without him,” observed Frédéric. And Deslauriers enquired about Martinon.

“What has become of that interesting gentleman?”

Frédéric, immediately giving vent to the ill-will which he bore to Martinon, attacked his mental capacity, his character, his false elegance, his entire personality. He was a perfect specimen of an upstart peasant! The new aristocracy, the bourgeoisie, was not as good as the old—the nobility. He maintained this, and the democrats expressed their approval, as if he were a member of the one class, and they were in the habit of rubbing elbows with the other. They were charmed by him. The apothecary compared him to M. d’Alton Shée, who, though a peer of France, defended the cause of the people.

The time had come for taking their departure. They all separated with warm handshakes. Dussardier, in a spirit of affection, saw Frédéric and Deslauriers home. As soon as they were in the street, the lawyer assumed a thoughtful air, and, after a moment’s silence:

“So you have a grudge, against Pellerin?”

Frédéric did not hide his rancour.

The painter, in the meantime, had withdrawn the notorious picture from the display. A person should not allow a falling out over insignificant matters. What was the use of making an enemy for himself?

“He has given in to a surge of temper, excusable in a man who hasn’t a sou. You, of course, can’t understand that!”

And, when Deslauriers had gone up to his own rooms, the clerk stayed with Frédéric. He even urged his friend to buy the portrait. In fact, Pellerin, abandoning the hope of being able to intimidate him, had gotten them to use their influence to get him to take the thing.

Deslauriers spoke about it again, and pressed him on the point, urging that the artist’s claims were reasonable.

“I am sure that for a sum of, perhaps, five hundred rrancs—”

“Oh, give it to him! Wait! here it is!” said Frédéric.

The picture was brought the same evening. It appeared to him even more atrocious than when he had first seen it. The half-tints and the shades were darkened under the excessive retouchings, and they seemed obscured when brought into relation with the lights, which, having remained very brilliant here and there, destroyed the harmony of the entire painting.

Frédéric avenged himself for having had to pay for it by bitterly disparaging it. Deslauriers believed in Frédéric’s statement on the point, and expressed approval of his conduct, for he had always been ambitious of forming a group of which he would be the leader. Certain men take delight in making their friends do things which are disagreeable to them.

Meanwhile, Frédéric did not renew his visits to the Dambreuses. He lacked the capital for the investment. He would have to enter into endless explanations on the subject; he hesitated about making up his mind. Perhaps he was in the right. Nothing was certain now, the coal-mining business any more than other things. He would have to give up society of that sort. The end of the matter was that Deslauriers succeeded in turning him against the enterprise.

Hatred was making him virtuous, and again he preferred Frédéric in a position of mediocrity. In this way he remained his friend’s equal and in more intimate relationship with him.

Mademoiselle Roque’s request had been very badly executed. Her father wrote to him, supplying him with the most precise directions, and concluded his letter with this witticism: “At the risk of making you work like a black slave.”

Frédéric could not do otherwise than call upon the Arnouxs, once more. He went to the warehouse, where he found nobody. The firm being on shaky ground, the clerks imitated their master’s slackness.

He brushed against the shelves laden with earthenware, which filled up the entire space in the centre of the establishment; then, when he reached the lower end, facing the counter, he walked with a more noisy tread in order to make himself heard.

The door curtains parted, and Madame Arnoux appeared.

“What! you here! you!”

“Yes,” she faltered, with some embarrassment. “I was looking for—”

He saw her handkerchief near the desk, and guessed that she had come down to her husband’s warehouse to have an account given to her as to the business, to clear up some matter that caused her anxiety.

“But perhaps there is something you want?” said she.

“Nothing important, madame.”

“These shop-assistants are intolerable! they are never here.”

They ought not to be blamed. On the contrary, he was delighted with the circumstances.