THE COMPLETE WORKS OF ÉMILE ZOLA. Эмиль Золя
an active and intelligent young fellow whom she almost looked upon as a son. This person, whose name was Michel, quickly discharged the debt and so increased his business that he felt compelled to take a partner. He chose a young fellow of Marseille named Jean Martin, who had a little money, and who appeared to be an honest, hardworking man. It was an assured fortune that Michel offered to his partner.
“At first, everything went well. The profits increased annually, and each partner put by a good round sum at the end of the year. But Jean Martin, who was eager for gain and dreamed of a rapid fortune, ended by reflecting that he would make twice as much if he were alone. The matter was a difficult one: Michel was in fact his benefactor, and moreover he had a friend in the landlord of the house, Madame Mille’s son. If the latter were honest, Jean Martin would be unable to put his nefarious scheme into execution. He went to see him, and found him to be the scoundrel he required. He proposed to him to give him a new lease, in consideration of a large sum of money; he doubled and even trebled the amount. Mille, who is both a rogue and a miser, sold himself for as much as possible. The bargain was struck. Then Jean Martin played the hypocrite with Michel: he said he desired to cancel the partnership deed and to start a business elsewhere; he even named a place he had taken. Michel, surprised but not suspecting the infamous trick of which he was to be the victim, said he could retire if he liked, and the deed was cancelled. Shortly afterwards Michel’s lease expired, and Jean Martin, armed with the new lease, triumphantly turned his ex-partner out. Michel, nearly driven mad by such a piece of treachery, opened a business elsewhere; but having no customers, he lost the money so painfully amassed during thirty years of labour. He died paralysed, suffering atrociously, shouting that Mille and Martin were scoundrels and traitors, and calling on his sons to avenge him. Today, his sons are toiling and moiling to keep body and soul together. Mille is connected by marriage with the best families in the town, his children are wealthy, and living handsomely in an odour of piety, and possessing the esteem of all.
“There’s Faivre. His mother was married twice, her second husband being a man named Chabran, a shipowner and bill discounter. Pretending he had made some unfortunate speculations, Chabran wrote one day to his numerous creditors to the effect that he was obliged to suspend payment. Some of them consented to give him time, but the majority decided to proceed against him. So Chabran engages two young fellows as clerks, and spends a week in coaching them up in the parts he wishes them to play; then, accompanied by these youngsters, now thoroughly trained, he calls on all his creditors, one after the other, bewailing his sad position, and imploring their pity for his two starving sons who haven’t a coat to their backs. The trick succeeds admirably well. All the creditors forego their claims.
“The next day Chabran was at the Bourse, more sedate and more insolent than ever. A broker, who had not heard of the affair, asked him to discount three bills accepted, as it so happened, by three of the very merchants who had treated him so generously the day before. ‘I can have nothing to do with those kind of people,’ he replied, haughtily. At the present time, Chabran has almost retired from business. He lives in a villa where he gives sumptuous dinners on Sundays.
“As for Gerominot, the president of the club where he spends his evenings is a usurer of the very worst description. It is said that he has earned at the trade a snug little million, which enabled him to marry his daughter to one of the princes of finance. His name is Pertigny. But since his last failure, which left him a capital of three hundred thousand francs sticking to his fingers, he goes by the name of Felix. This skilful rascal failed a first time forty years ago, and that enabled him to purchase a house. His creditors received fifteen per cent. Ten years later, a second failure procured him a little place in the country. That time his creditors received ten per cent. Scarcely fifteen years ago he failed a third time, on that occasion for three hundred thousand francs, and offered a composition of five per cent. The creditors having declined to accept it, he proved to them that all the property was really his wife’s, and he never paid them a centime.”
Marius, thoroughly sickened, made a movement of disgust, as though to stop these abominable stories.
“You don’t believe me, perhaps,” said the terrible count. “You’re a simpleton, my friend. I’ve not yet done, and you must hear me to the end.”
M. de Girousse railed in a dreadful manner. His loud hissing words fell like the lash of a whip upon the persons whose disreputable histories he was relating. He named the jurymen one after another, he searched their lives and the lives of their relations, and laid bare all the scandals and meannesses connected with them. There was scarcely one he spared. Then he placed himself vehemently before Marius, and continued bitterly:
“Were you so simple as to believe that all these millionaires, all these upstarts, all these powerful persons who domineer over you and crush you today, were little saints, worthy individuals, whose lives were spotless? At Marseille especially, these men display their vanity and insolence; they have become devotees and hypocrites; they have deceived even the worthy people who salute and esteem them. In a word, they form an aristocracy of their own; their past is forgotten; their wealth and newly-acquired probity are alone seen.
“Well! I’ll unmask them. Listen: This one made his fortune by betraying his friend; that other, by trafficking in human flesh; that other, in selling his wife and daughter; that other, in speculating on the misery of his creditors; that other, in buying back for a song the shares of a company of which he was manager, and which he had brought into disrepute; that other, by scuttling a ship loaded with stones instead of merchandise, and securing a handsome sum from the underwriters; that other, verbally a partner, by refusing to pay his share of the losses in an unfortunate speculation; that other, by concealing his assets, failing two or three times, and ultimately living like an honest man; that other, by selling as wine a decoction of logwood or bullock’s blood; that other, by buying up all the corn at a time of scarcity; that other, by defrauding the customs on a large scale, attempting to corrupt the officers and robbing to his heart’s content; that other, by forging the signatures of friends or relations to bills which they do not dare to dishonour at maturity, but prefer to pay rather than disgrace the forger; that other, by setting fire to his factory or ships previously insured far above their value; that other, by tearing up and burning his acceptances snatched from his creditor’s hand the day they fell due; that other, by speculating at the Bourse without any intention of paying his differences, which does not prevent him enriching himself a week afterwards at the expense of some dupe — “
M. de Girousse stopped for want of breath. He remained silent for some time, giving his anger an opportunity of dying out. Then he again opened his lips, and smiled less bitterly.
“I am a bit of a misanthrope,” he said gently to Marius, who had listened to him with pain and surprise “I see the dark side of everything. The fact is, the idleness to which my title condemns me has enabled me to study the ignominies of this country. But I must tell you there are some honest folk among us. Unfortunately they either dread or disdain the rascals.”
Marius took his leave of M. de Girousse, quite upset by the ardent words he had been listening to. He foresaw that his brother would be unmercifully condemned.
The trial was to begin on the morrow.
CHAPTER X
A SCANDALOUS TRIAL
ALL Aix was in a flutter. Scandal acquires additional force in quiet little towns, where the curiosity of the gossips has not frequently some fresh material to feed upon. All the talk was of Philippe and Blanche; the lovers’ adventures were related at every street corner; it was openly said that the accused was condemned beforehand, that M. de Cazalis had, either personally or through his friends, secured a promise of conviction from each juryman.
The Aix clergy gave the deputy its assistance, though in a rather lukewarm manner, it is true. It comprised in those days some men who were unwilling to be parties to an act of injustice. A few priests, however, submitted to the influence of the religious club at Marseille, of which Abbé Donadéi was, so to say, the leader. These attempted in various ways to tie the hands of the magistracy. They succeeded especially in persuading the jurymen of the righteousness of M. de Cazalis’ cause.
The