THE COMPLETE WORKS OF ÉMILE ZOLA. Эмиль Золя
on me. And what are your opinions?”
Sauvaire appeared full of importance.
“My opinions?” he repeated, thinking what that could mean. “Ah! yes, what I think of the Republic, that’s it, is it not? Well, I think the Republic is an excellent thing. Only, order, you understand. The National Guard was formed to preserve order. Order. I insist on that.”
He swung his body about, triumphant at having been able to find he had an opinion. At the bottom of his heart he felt esteem for the Republic, which had given him epaulettes; but he had been told that if the Republicans were victorious they would rob him of his money, and, therefore, he detested the Republicans. These contradictory sentiments had to get on together as best they could, but for the matter of that he never asked himself what his convictions were.
He went a little way further with Marius and then left him with the remark, uttered with much importance, that his duty called him elsewhere. But it was only a sham departure, he turned on his heels and came back to whisper to the young man in a confidential tone:
“Ah! I forgot. Just tell your brother that he compromises himself with that lot of tatterdemalions whom he drags along with him everywhere. Advise him to give up the rabble and obtain a captain’s commission like me. It’s more prudent.”
And, as Marius, without replying, pressed his hand to thank him, he added like the good fellow he was at heart:
“If I can be of use to you in any row, count on me. I feel just as much inclined to serve my friends as my country. I am at your service, you understand.”
He was no longer acting. Marius thanked him again and they parted the best friends in the world.
In the evening, the young man spoke to Fine and his brother of the meeting, and amused them by a descriptive account of the triumphant attitude of the former master-stevedore, but at last Philippe became irritated.
“And it’s to such men as this that the tranquillity of the city is entrusted!” he exclaimed. “These gentlemen are well dressed, these gentlemen play at soldiers. Ah! let them beware! they may, perhaps, be compelled to perform their part seriously. The people are tired of their tomfoolery and vanity.”
“Hold your tongue,” said Marius, severely. “These men may be ridiculous, but one doesn’t kill one’s fellow countrymen.”
Philippe rose and continued with greater violence:
“The country is not with them. It is the workmen, the workers who are the country. The bourgeois have guns, the people have none. The people are being guarded, musket to the shoulder, like wild beasts. Well! one of these days the beasts will show their teeth and devour their guardians. That’s all.”
And he abruptly went upstairs to his room.
CHAPTER XIII
WHAT MATHÉUS UNDERSTOOD BY STRATEGY
MATHÉUS was decidedly a pure Republican, a radical with whom there was no joking. His forehead was half covered by his carroty wig, and when he shook his head in the clubs, it resembled a torch throwing out a reddish light. He was always on the side of the extreme party, and supported any measure likely to cause disorder in the city. He had ended by inspiring a sort of respectful terror, and his advice was listened to with admiration, and fear. On the day following the elections he had spoken plainly of setting fire to Marseille, and this had made him extremely popular among the exalted liberals.
He often met Philippe, but avoided becoming intimate with him, confining himself to keeping a watchful eye on him from a distance and to taking note of the fiery language that sometimes escaped him. He wanted to see him mixed up in a nice little conspiracy. So long as the young man limited himself to declaiming in the clubs, taking part in the banquets and popular manifestations, he felt he could do nothing against him, and it was for that reason that he argued in favour of war and barricades. He hoped that at the first shot, Philippe would rush down and join in the street fight, and be arrested and condemned as an insurgent.
Besides, civil war formed part of Mathéus’ calculations. Having promised his master to hand over to him father and son, he relied on the tumult of the insurrection to steal little Joseph, while Philippe would be either killed or imprisoned. He had arranged in his head a plan which, according to his idea, could not fail to succeed. But it was a question of persuading the people to fight. They seemed to him quite disposed to do so, and he had made up his mind that if ever a shot were fired, he would sow such discord that an encounter would be inevitable.
During this time M. de Cazalis was becoming impatient. For three months he had waited in vain for Mathéus to accomplish his promises. When the latter came secretly in the evening to give him an account of the events of the day, he complained bitterly of the long delay that obliged him to live in hiding at his mansion.
“But, sir,” said the spy, with his insolent laugh, “I cannot make the barricades all alone! Allow the insurrection to ripen. Why, you’re more of a Republican than myself. One accustoms oneself to everything, is it not so?”
One night Mathéus suddenly burst in upon the ex-deputy exclaiming:
“Faith, I believe we shall fight tomorrow. I have just spoken for two hours at the club.”
He was in high spirits, and already saw in the near future the money his master had promised him if he succeeded. The latter pressed him with questions, insisting at length on facts.
“Look here,” answered Mathéus. “The Marseillais would never, perhaps, have moved, but they have just had the visit of some Parisians who were present at the events in February, and that has put some courage into them. You understand, I am speaking of those Parisians destined for the war in Italy, and who, robbed on the way by one of their chiefs, reached Marseille stripped of everything.
“But those Parisians have gone,” interrupted M. de Cazalis
“Yes, but they have left a revolutionary current here. There was a gathering in their favour in front of the Prefecture which almost came to blows. The people wanted the city to come to their assistance and the working classes, who are very discontented, will make a great manifestation tomorrow which I trust will end badly.”
“But what do the workmen want then?” inquired the ex-deputy.
Mathéus then posted him up in the actual state of affairs, which was very serious. The great danger came from the workmen employed at the National workshops, which had been established with much difficulty at Marseille and were to cause irreparable misfortune. The only work that could be given to the people, by the terms of the decree of the Provisional Government, was the digging out of the canal, then in progress, which at the present day brings the waters of the Durance to the city. There was quite a multitude of workmen there, employed indiscriminately at a task other than their particular trades, who for the most part cursed the bread they earned and kept the spark of revolt always alight.
The discontent of these toilers arose from the inequality the government had established between them and their brethren at Paris. The latter, according to the decree, had only to work for ten hours, while those in the departments laboured for eleven hours. In presence of the incessant complaints of the Marseillais workmen the commissary, fearing the exasperation of this ill-disciplined body of men, had thought right to make use of his discretional powers and had reduced the day’s labour at Marseille to ten hours.
Unfortunately all the heads of workshops would not accept this reduction. Some continued to insist on their workmen doing eleven hours; others deducted the value of the hour’s work that was not done. This gave rise to constant rebellion and a permanent feeling of exasperation which could only end in a violent crisis. Up to that time the complaints of the workmen had not met with any serious result; the statements of facts they had drawn up had had no effect; their manifestations had been met by idle promises which were broken as soon as their backs were turned. They wanted to finish the business, they wished for justice.
On Tuesday June 20th, the evening preceding that on