Henriette

Front matter

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Chapter II

The building occupied by the sous-prefet of Montescourt is a large, square, uninviting house, situated at the rear of a well-turfed yard. An ordinary gate, very rarely painted, separates this prison from an irregular street, honored by the name of place.

One enters this building by three doors of unequal size, opening into the middle and at each end of the edifice. The first is surmounted by a flag, often seditious, thanks to the wind and rain, and is used by the sous-prefet, his family, if he has one, and visitors when they come. The door on the left, with an explanatory inscription overhead, gives access to the office and private room of the head of the department. The third door leads to the kitchen and is used by the servants and tradespeople.

Gaston de Reygnac asked at once to be shown to his own rooms. They ushered him

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r 5 into a large room on the first floor, hung with rose-colored paper and draped with cretonne once the same shade. The furniture was like that of a second-class country hotel. In the dressing room, which was nearly as large as the chamber, one saw little else but a basin painted in blue design, containing yet, like a legacy of hate, the residue of the last ablution of the Lasserres. Other relics no less inviting were on the floor, a toothless comb, boots worn out, a broken corset steel, a paper collar indiscreetly telling of the administrative perspirations of M. Lasserre. Another article badly worn lay upon the floor, which was stained in spots by soap suds.

This offensive spectacle was still more forcibly seen in an adjoining apartment, which had evidently been used for a sleeping room and play room for the young family. Broken toys, fragments of picture books, and brimless hats, littered the floor. In the centre of the room was an aquarium, which had probably been brought from the drawing room to be used as a plaything for the children, it contained the dead body of a gold fish, whose tarnished side was half out of the forbidding-looking water.

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Without doubt a young artist in embryo had washed his paint brushes there. But the general desolation shone forth nowhere more than in the kicthen, where the odor of stagnant greasy water floated yet, whilst the saucepans, stained with the menacing color of verdigris, breathed out terrible predictions. A broken salad bowl strengthened by a string, was covered with the remains of the dressing which cheered the last repast of the Lasserres.

From cellar to garret, with the exception of the drawing room, usually unoccupied, the house was in this state. It would need, at least, the work of three persons one week to render it habitable, and yet Reygnac wished to dine and sleep there that same evening; for this well-to-do Parisian anything was better than a small country hotel.

Upon hearing his decision Lefevre threw his arms up and turned his dismayed face toward the wall. But soon this administrative person resumed his stolid expression.

“It is impossible,” said he, “unless monsieur travels with all his household effects.”

“ Why? ” asked Reygnac, “ is not the house furnished? ”

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“ To a certain extent, but the furniture does not include sheets, linen, crockery, silver or glass.”

“ Like the legend of the toothpicks, one carries them in his beard,” thought Reygnac smiling. “Such confidence does us honor. Only my dear mother’s calculations will be upset, for I shall need at the very least 1,000 crowns for the first outlay.” The new sous-prefet of Montescourt was not disappointed. Thanks to Prosper, his valet, thanks still more to the landlord of the “ Croix Blanche,” upon whom large requisitions were made, the conqueror dined and slept in the enemy’s camp. H owever this preference given to a rival establishment makes one enemy the more, in the person of the landlord of the “ Commerce,” who, hesitating until then, swears no more from that time only by the opposition.

As he was gloomily eating his solitary meal, Gaston received a despatch on yellow paper. In place of words, he saw a series of four ciphers. It was necessary to send for the indispensable Lefevre. With the aid of a little book which resembled a dictionary, Lefevre

with an important air translated the mysterii8

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ous telegram. It was couched in these terms :

“ Come to the prefecture to-morrow and bring me a report upon the candidates in your department, also upon the electoral situation.”

“ At what hour does the first train leave for X -? ” asked Reygnac, as if it was the sim-

plest thing in the world.

“ At eight o’clock, monsieur. Do you wish me any longer? ”

“ No, thanks, you may leave. I shall comply with the prefet’s summons, but I intend to return to-morrow evening. After to-morrow, we will work.”

“Well!” said the young man when alone, “my chief takes things coolly. Yesterday at this hour, 1 dined at the club, afterward I have supper and then take a night train, and here I am. Now, he asks me to report on the electoral situation. Zounds! three days ago I should have been at a loss to have told even its geographical situation.” All at once Gaston spied a set of drawers labelled with these solemn titles: General Politics, Police Reports, Personal, Morals, Correspondence with the Prefecture, etc.”

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“ Ah, to be sure,” thought he, “ I may possibly find something inside.” He opens the drawer of “ Police Reports.” The first document, dated back several days, remarked the “unpleasant impression ” produced by the rumor of change in the department, and the “devotion of the population” to the present form of government, a little more and it would have gone as far as to predict barricading, and all the horrors of civil war, in the streets of Montescourt. It was signed “Bongrand, Superintendent of Police.” Just as Reygnac finished reading these sombre predictions M. Bongrand in person was ushered in. He was a man tall, and thin, with grizzly hair and an upright soldierly bearing; one recognized in him that devotion, at once ridiculous and sublime, which consisted of not using his own intelligence in the service. It was to be seen, nevertheless, that in the present case, the sacrifice was neither meritorious nor difficult. Bongrand made the required salute and remained standing, no persuasion could induce him to be seated.

“ Monsieur le sous-prefet,” said he, “ I come to pay my respects and to take your orders.”

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“ I am very much obliged to you. What I wish to know first is your opinion upon the electoral situation of Montescourt.”

The honest man raised his eyes to the ceiling as if one had asked him an impossible question.

“ The change of office,’’ said he, “ has produced a favorable impression upon the people.”

“ Indeed!” said Reygnac. “Are you the person who wrote this, Monsieur Bongrand.”

Without the slightest embarrassment the old sub-officer verified his signature at the close of the report and replied in the affirmative, with perfect tranquillity.

“Then you no longer fear a riot? You did eight days ago, however, if I am to believe what you have written.”

“ Monsieur Magalas said publicly in a cafe that the country would rise.”

“ That’s all right, my good fellow,” said Reygnac, meanwhile having decided as to the value of the officer wlio stood before him. “ At present I have no more orders ; you may go.”

“ Pardon, Monsieur le sous-prefet,” said Bongrand making a grand effort. “ I belong to the third class, and receive 1,800 francs

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salary, added to that, I have 40 or 50 francs, fees for disinterments. I am married, the father of a family. It costs dear to live in Montescourt.”

“And you wish to be promoted? Very well, I will make a note of it. At present, I have work to do; we will talk together later on.”

Bongrand had hardly left, when Prosper reentered with a card — “ Boehmer, Lieutenant of the Gendarmes.”

“ Good day, Monsieur le sous-prefet,” said the officer, in full dress, with a pronounced Alsatian accent, extending his large hand to the new functionary as if he had known him for years. “At last! you have arrived! I am anxious to have my instructions; I suppose that you have brought them. It is time to go to work. When shall we begin? ”

“Instructions?” said Gaston somewhat astonished. “ I have none. Nobody has given me any. What the devil would you do? Fire upon the people? ”

“ Now then, Monsieur de Reygnac, we know who you are. If the Minister sends us a man with your ideas and your name, it is not to

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continue in the footsteps of M. Lasserre. your predecessor. All the conservatives, and I declare to you that I am one of the number, expect to see a change. Will you make a bet, that Magalas will not sleep at home to-night? ” “ Upon my honor, he will make a great mistake, my dear lieutenant; I repeat it, we do not think of imprisoning anybody. We shall take no violent measures. Good gracious! how fast you go at it! ”

“ I think you may confide in me, monsieur, my opinions are known to all Montescourt and elsewhere. The marshall can count upon me ; I have been ten years in service and when the

elections are over ”

“ You hope for the other shoulder strap? ” “To be sure! I have a large family, and a lieutenant’s pay hardly suffices in a city where the food is so dear.”

“All alike! ” thought Gaston when he was alone. “The question that all these fellows understand best is their own advancement. But who comes now? ”

It is Godelin, the postmaster; he wears a black coat, with an enormous cross which covers all one side of his breast. The bullet

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2 3 which carried away his right arm, left a portion of it, just sufficient to hold, pressed against his right arm-pit, a large gold-headed cane, when the left hand had other duties.

“Monsieur le sous-prefet,” said he, “my wife is in delicate health, and I feared she would pass a sleepless night, if I did not clear myself in your eyes. You saw me talking with your predecessor ; that I did from duty, rest assured— I would do the like to you, should the same misfortune overtake you.”

“ Granted in advance,” said Reygnac bowing.

“ But,” continued Godelin, “ Monsieur le sous-prefet would be wrong to conclude by these marks of simple politeness, that I am not animated by a sincere devotion to the present politics; I left an arm in Crimea, and a good record in the regiment. You could never tarnish it. Monsieur, the father of a family with four children to maintain, four daughters — ”

“Rest easy,” replied Gaston, who could hardly keep from laughing at hearing the same expressions used by the others, “ I understand the difficulties of certain positions. Go and

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reassure Madame Godelin and present my compliments to her; oh, by the way, you have not asked for a promotion? ”

“No,” said the postmaster very gravely, “ I shall be pensioned off next year, and my removal will amount to more than my increase of salary ; all that I ask is to be let alone, but the government can count on me within the limits of my province.”

Left to himself at last, the young official finished looking over the records left by his predecessor; it did not take long, for most of the drawers were empty, the ashes in the fire-place told what had become of their contents. Back of one, he found a yellowed paper which had slipped there by chance, without doubt. It was a love letter, not dated, simply signed with an initial. The style was touching in its simplicity, the spelling fair, but not irreproachable, the ideas had an idyllic freshness. Was it Lasserre or another who had inspired in the romantic Montescurian this tender feeling?

Alas! the postscript destroyed these illusions. He found a “Du Barry” in this “ Louise de la Valliere.” The postscript said: “ The roads which lead to our country home are always full of ruts; one word from you and they will be smooth as garden paths. Say the word quickly ; I promise you many thanks.”

With a sceptical smile Reygnac burned the letter in the flame of his candle.

In Paris, thought he, presents support love, here, love mends the roads.

With this unromantic reflection, Monsieur Reygnac went to bed.

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Chapter III

HE next morning at eleven o’clock, Gaston arrived at the county town. A few minutes later he was ushered into the presence of his chief, by the door keeper. M. Petitot du Villars, prefet du , con-

sidered that he had given proof of good taste in calling himself “ Monsieur du Villars,” and his wife did not take offence if, at a ball, some young supernumerary, impressed by her noble walk and majestic shoulders, called her “ Madame la Countess.”

Petitot du Villars had the misfortune to be a creature of the Empire, a misfortune largely compensated for by the assistance of an intelligent wife. So the family prospered. The 4th of September found them in the sous-prefecture; the 16th of May, they were at the head of the department. They were not rich, far from it, but they had succeeded in a short

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time, in giving the prefecture the reputation of being a house where one could amuse one’s self. This made people, outside of politics, bow down to them; hair-dressers, pastry cooks, milliners, and the unmarried young ladies, with all their families.

“ Good day, my dear colleague,” said Villars, affecting to ignore, in the intimacy between Reygnac and himself, all superiority, “you are very good to have responded so quickly to my bidding. What do you think of Montescourt? ”

“ It is an ugly city, eight hours’ ride from Paris; I suspect that it lies upon a river, as it seems to me that I crossed a bridge. One thing is sure, that they have a newspaper printed by a most disagreeable man. I arrived last evening ; I slept as well as one could upon a hard mattress. The three or four persons in office, that I have seen, seamed to be in perfect accord, each wished to be promoted.”

“And you?” said the prefet laughing.

“ I, oh, I deserved it. I am nominated sous-prefet without my ever having done anything. They owe me something, though, for the inconvenience I have undergone.”

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“ You are a new beginner in this career? ”

“ As green as one possibly can be. It was my mother’s idea. I am twenty -nine years old ; I ride well, and I remember having passed my examination in law. I do not deny that I have committed many follies in my life, one of the greatest was whilst at Patay — I placed myself in such a position as to receive a ball which very nearly ended my days. I know how to spell. I am serious when I set about it, and I wish to begin to work, as much from duty as respect. As to my political opinions,

I hasten to tell you that I am ”

“ Oh ! my dear fellow, who cares what you are ? The essential thing is to know what you are not, and then, you are not required to proclaim it from the house tops. It is fortunate that you came to me before speaking to anybody else. Upon my word! you would have commenced with a profession of faith; we are here to prevent that.”

“ Meanwhile one must say something.”

“It is well to speak the language of the times, for each new regime has its own vocabulary. All our authority is comprised in one word, we are the servants of the marshal.

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We uphold the politics and the government of the marshal. We must sustain the marshal’s candidates. With these three sentences you know as much as I, and you can get over the most difficult situations ; but if you swerve from that, you are lost. Now let me present you to Madame du Villars, who waits lunch for us.”

“ But, monsieur, you have given me no instructions.”

“ You too! All my sous-prefets have asked for instructions; that is all that they say. What would you do with my instructions? Did you never read the story of a soldier who cried out in the midst of a battle, ‘ I have taken a prisoner, but he will not come with me.’ Are you sure that you will be able to make them follow my instructions? ”

“Well! one can always try.”

“ My dear fellow, the Government is like a theatre. Show the public a painted canvass and say to them, ‘ They are murdering someone behind there.’ 4 Here is an earthquake.’ Be serious, bend your head, have the air of being filled with mysterious orders, and everybody will say, 4 These people know what they

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are about ! ’ This is the essential thing. As for the rest, come what may ! ”

“ That is what they call singing ‘ la Benediction des Poignards ’ to the air of ‘ Everybody for himself and God for all.’ ”

“You have hit it; some other day we will talk more seriously. Now let us go to luncheon.”

“Willingly,” replied Reygnac; “but you asked me to tell you of the electoral situation.”

“ I asked you to come that people might know that you had arrived; when you return to-night you will be supposed to have your pockets full of documents; after all, as intelligent as you are, I should not be surprised if you already had something of importance to tell me. That will come later ; meanwhile, let us join my wife.”

On the garden steps sat Madame du Villars, reading the Figaro. A lady about forty years old, very fashionable, and agreeable enough when she thought it useful to please. Not pretty enough to give umbrage to the County beauties. Her father was Councillor of State under the Empire. He was conspic-

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uous for issuing certain decrees which the Chancellor of Lamoignon did not sign. I understand her mother was a beauty of the second class, a devoted, if not a faithful wife, and had been the means of her husband becoming President of the section and various other posts of honor, but, says the chronicle, she did not make him rich, thanks to her pronounced taste for dress and display. Accordingly their young daughter Sidonie had for her dowry only her good name, a certain knowledge of the world, and a real talent for .the comedy of social life. She was praised more than once at Fontainebleau or at Compiegne.

All these advantages had, at twenty-five years of age, procured for her only ball partners. In the winter of 1869, an illustrious personage promised the gold-headed cane of a sous-prefecture of the first class to the one who gathered her from under a crown of orange blossoms. From that moment people sought this Atlanta, and Lent was hardly ended when the young Petitot du Villars, head clerk in the office of a prefecture in the Antipodes, put on for the first time a beautiful silver em-

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broidered coat in a pretty village, three hours’ ride from Paris, after the preliminary formalities commanded by Sidonie’s patron. Du Villars was not unknown; already they spoke of him for a better position, when the 4th of September came and took away this position, which they had forgotten to guarantee in the contract.

The next day the family disappeared as suddenly as into a trap. You might have found them with very little trouble, wandering from uncle to cousin, lunching upon the friendship of one, dining upon the pity of others, which is no way to get rich. Successively the old sous-prefet tried journalism, farming, banking, and wine brokerage, struggling bravely against the hardships of fate and debts. During this time his wife was on the road to Paris in a cab, oftener in an omnibus, to cultivate her acquaintances — a culture in which a young woman who is good-looking risks a great deal.

How she managed it is a question which concerns only her husband. What is certain is, that he was one of the first batch to furnish prefets the 16th of May, and that the department of was given to a man full of experi-

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ence, devoid of prejudice and married to a superior woman; I know of more than one out of these forty-five or forty-six departments, that did not have a similar chance.

The time when Madame du Villars rode in an omnibus had passed. In a few days she was given pretty dresses, a fine house, a wellkept coupe and had the appearance of a rich woman.

All this for 25,000 francs! The hardest part was to wait until the end of the first month for the 2,500 francs salary which this lucky day ought to bring them.

In the present state of civilization some will give you, on account of your duties, or title, a pair of horses on credit, who would laugh you in the face if you tried to borrow five louis.

Assuredly, Reygnac, well aware of the difficulties of certain positions, never suspected that the elegant lady who offered him her hand in such a friendly manner, had been, that same morning, in a cold perspiration whilst casting her eyes over the cook’s account book. Nothing could be fresher, prettier, or more restful than this charming lady, with her handsome gown, pretty slippers, and well-

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dressed hair, comfortably seated in the inevitable gilded arm-chair, covered with red damask, a little worn on the seams.

“ At last! ” exclaimed she merrily, “you are here! You are the only one of the sous-prefets that I do not know yet, and the one that I wish to know the most.”

“O madame,” said Gaston, “what would my colleagues say if they heard you? ”

“ Bah ! they would say nothing, they are good fellows, good officers, so my husband says, but common people, like my gardener. And then they are all married! I am certain to never see them. So, I count upon you to fill all of their places; you will have your room here, and will come here to amuse yourself when you are tired of Montescourt, that is to say, at any time. I warn you that I am the one who will give the minister reports concerning you; therefore, be agreeable and make love to me a little when we are in company.”

“ And when there is nobody around? ”

“ Then we will talk quietly like good friends. We will become Parisians again. In the presence of our superior officers we must become provincial in the extreme.”

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“ Madame, lunch is served,” announced at that moment a most correct butler.

“ Let us go,” said Madame du Villars rising from her chair. Taking Reygnac’s arm, she said in a low voice, “ Do not speak of politics before Basil. We hired him from my husband’s predecessor and suspect him of carrying reports to the Liberal newspapers of this place.”

The luncheon was more attractive than substantial ; elegantly served, and called to mind similar repasts which the economy of the present time had put in fashion under the pretext of gentility, in the newly-born fashionable society at the capital. Fresh eggs, chops, asparagus, two cups of tea and plenty of flowers.

The conversation was to the mind what the menu was to the stomach — an unsubstantial living for want of better. They talked of the closed theatres, of the reopened music halls, the races, of good society and bad. Du Villars talked little and ate less. He took, when seated at the tabel, a package of powders, ate without appetite, like a man attacked with gastralgia; Sidonie looked after him, like a

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wife who loved her husband, and knew that she lost her rights to an annuity if he died before his time. This astonishing woman knew everything, or at least could talk on all subjects, using expressions rarely original, but always witty. As for Gaston, he could hardly realize where he was. The 16th of May, the elections, the sous-prefecture of Montescourt, all seemed like a dream.

As to Madame du Villars, she looked like twenty-five different ladies with whom he had eaten fresh eggs and listened to their gossip. He really enjoyed himself, for his wit and animation were not yet dampened and congealed by the country and government. He showed himself to be a brilliant talker.

After luncheon, the prefet retired to his office to attend to an urgent despatch. His wife and Reygnac seated themselves on the veranda, she lazily stretched out in a large rolling chair, he upon a camp stool in front of her. Sidonie took a cigarette, made him light one, and without hesitation said, “ Monsieur de Reygnac, you are a charming man.”

“ I, madame ! ” replied he bowing, “ But ” —

“ Yes,” continued she, “ charming. You are

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witty, with a natural elegance, a talent for entertaining ladies. You are an accomplished gentleman; I believe, too, that you have a substantial education. Only I wonder how it ever happened that the office of sous-prefet was offered to you and that you accepted it.”

“ Mon Dieu, madame,” responded Reygnac, a little surprised at the compliment, “ between us, I asked for it, or rather I should say that the whole thing was done without me ; I ought

to tell you that my mother ”

“Oh! f know, the Countess de Reygnac has a most practical mind and unerring penetration. She knows that idleness is the mother of vice ; that nobody plays baccarat at Montescourt; that the fashionable ladies are remarkable for their ugliness, the others by their absence. In short, thanks to your relatives, thanks to the powerful influence of friendship, your mother is welcome to the Elysee. She has only to say the word to put you into the Bastile, or in other words, to send you to Montescourt; this is true, is it not? ”

“Zounds! madame,” said Reygnac a little piqued, “you are complimentary! You are well informed about me and my family.”

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“Do I receive you any the worse for that? Yes, it is true, I have informed myself, and make no mystery of it. I am of the old school, and I know my business. They should have told you of it.”

“ Pardon me, madame, I did not know until I came here, whether my chief was married or not.”

“ Decidedly, you lack experience. Thank God ! that he has given you a prefet who will look after your political education, very much neglected until now. Without impertinence I ask, what did you expect to do? ”

“Well, madame, to become prefet as soon as possible. I have commenced work seriously. I shall work hard and if I go out with honor from the present enterprise ”

“Ah! you have come to that. You! A prefet of the third Restoration; that is the height of your ambition? Ah, fie, Monsieur le Count, is it a fact, that your mother’s son is a candid man? ”

“ If I have accepted a government office, it was not with the expectation of becoming admiral some day.”

“ That is wrong, for you will be an admiral

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before a Prefet. If I were in your place, I should not regard it as far distant. There are heiresses in your county, and I know of one whose guardian will soon have need of you.”

Just then, Basil appeared with a card upon a tray.

“ I will receive him,” said Madame du Villars, throwing away her cigarette. At the same time she struck the attitude of a great lady who sits for her portrait, and instantaneously disguised her Parisian face, which speaks with the eyes, nose and all, and assumed the impenetrable mask of a political woman.

Basil announced:

“ Monsieur le commandant Martinval.”

This person made his appearance, rigid, important, and solemn. One could never imagine a face less military-looking than the commandant’s. He would have been easily taken for a retired merchant ; one would have been only half in the wrong. Martinval, formerly assistant to a steward, had resigned to marry the daughter of a very wealthy tradesman. He had formerly commanded the Militia, and did that very well, that is, without losing a man, only by sickness. As his

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name was popular in the surrounding district, it was the one proposed as candidate of the moral order at the coming elections.

Madame du Villars presented the men to each other in a very dignified manner.

* “Ah! Ah! Monsieur le sous-prefet,” said Martinval, examining Reygnac as a general would a new recruit, “ it is you, then, who go to fight for the good cause at Montescourt? ”

Reygnac, profiting already by the advice and example of his clever mentor, assumed a profound air, which was far from becoming, and replied:

“ Monsieur, in the struggle which is preparing, we ourselves, political servants, point the cannons, but it is the local influence which charges them.”