THE COMPLETE WORKS OF ÉMILE ZOLA. Эмиль Золя

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СКАЧАТЬ replied the shipowner. “I go there very rarely, I think that such gatherings do but little to advance the affairs of liberalism.”

      Philippe feigned not to hear.

      “Your absence is often regretted,” he continued. “Men like you are precious. You were wrong, one of my colleagues said to me yesterday, to have kept in the background on the occasion of the appointment of the Municipal Commission, and now that the elections are drawing near you ought to show yourself and lend all the weight of your honourability to the cause we are defending.”

      M. Martelly did not answer. He looked his interlocutor in the face, to compel him to make his proposals clear and precise.

      Philippe understood him and conformed with good grace.

      “We are quite disposed to push your candidature forward,” he continued. “Why do you not place yourself in the ranks?”

      There was a moment’s silence during which the shipowner look grave and sad.

      “Why?” he answered slowly, “because I am certain beforehand to fail. Allow me to speak to you as a friend, as a father. You are going to your ruin, my son. The Republic will kill you, and you will kill the Republic. You know what my convictions are, you do not doubt, I hope, that I am ready to spend my blood for the triumph of what is right and true. But, really, we do not find ourselves here in a centre where self-sacrifice can be of use. We are vanquished before having fought. I thought for a moment of repairing to Paris, of offering my services to the government, of assisting it both personally and with my fortune. At Marseille I have my hands tied. So I have decided to remain aside, for I will not mix in all the dirty business I foresee ahead.”

      “Then you are certain the reaction will win the day?”

      “Yes. If all the cities in the provinces are animated by the same ideas as Marseille, our Republic will last two or three years at the most, and we shall then soon have a dictator. Interrogate facts and they will answer.”

      M. Martelly’s grave tone of voice and calm despair produced a most lively impression on Philippe, who was for a moment conscious of the terrible reality.

      “You are, perhaps, right,” he answered sadly, “but if young people had your experience, they would cross their arms, and that would look cowardly. You see it is better to struggle. Then, you refuse to put yourself forward?”

      “No, indeed. If the people think they have need of me, I will respond to their call, whatever happens. Although I feel certain of not succeeding, I do not think I have the right to avoid the requirements of circumstances. I will not retire in presence of a repulse, from the moment Republicans ask me to run the bad chance of that repulse, but I will not be mistaken for one of those ambitious creatures who are stirring up the population at present, who flatter the Republic as they flattered Royalty, so as to assure their fortune and position. I have kept in the dark up to now so as not to be confused with one of those men, and I wish it to be clearly understood that if I consent to be a candidate it is because people have asked me and I have solicited nothing.”

      M. Martelly had raised his voice. Standing up, his eyes sparkling, he accented each word with vigorous action. Philippe had also left his seat.

      “Come, you are yourself again,” he said, “you will see, all will go well. I am going to tell our friends at once that you accept their mandate. Your name will be placed on the preliminary lists today, and it must absolutely come victorious out of the urn.”

      “You are young,” replied the shipowner shaking his head; “you dream with your eyes open. Ah! my poor child, liberty is very sick. I think we are present at its funeral.”

      Philippe drew himself up violently.

      “Well!’’ he exclaimed, “if they kill it, we’ll take our guns and kill its murderers. It will be civil war, barricades, blood, corpses. So much the worse!”

      He trembled with exasperation. M. Martelly had taken his hands and sought to pacify him.

      “If you make barricades,” he said to him, “I will go and place myself between your fire and that of the troops. Blood must not be spilt in the name of brotherhood. No, no; we must have no violence.”

      Philippe withdrew. This interview had filled him with sullen uneasiness. The shipowner’s calm reason had thrown cold water, as it were, on his passion. Internally he was in despair, but he continued to busy himself actively with the elections, and when the grand day came he had almost recovered hope, so that the result of the first trial fell upon him like a thunderbolt. All M. Martelly’s predictions were accomplished. Not only was he not named, but the reactionary party had a complete victory. Out of ten deputies elected, there were barely three Radical republicans, the others belonged to the Conservative, and particularly to the Legitimist party.

      From that moment Philippe was in a constant state of irritation. He saw clearly how useless his efforts were and yet he gave himself up to an illfated task that could only lead to misfortune. Each day the party he supported had to put up with a new defeat. The reaction increased in power, and one newspaper went so far as to openly preach political decentralisation to escape what it termed the Revolutionary dictatorship of Paris. The superior authorities were weak and powerless and constantly made concessions. If a king had landed on the Cannebière he would have been acclaimed by the entire city.

      The Republicans protested in vain against the organization of the National Guard, the companies of which were composed solely of rich bourgeois, and consequently of Conservatives. This organization presented permanent danger of civil war. The day the people and the National Guard met there would necessarily be a shock.

      Philippe, in his hours of anger and despair, foresaw this fatal meeting, and experienced ghastly delight in thinking of the hand-to-hand struggle. In the meanwhile he fraternized with the people, was at all the banquets and intoxicated himself with rhetoric. After the elections he had resigned his post with M. Martelly, so as to be able to live freely in the streets, amidst the events of each day. He knew not how all this would end, but he nursed the vague hope of a battle out of which the people would issue victorious. Then the Republic would triumph and the workingmen would command in their turn.

      Two months passed by and they were in the middle of June.

      Fine and Marius lived in constant alarm. The latter, not daring to lecture his brother any more, owing to his blunt manner, confined himself to watching him on the sly, so as to be always ready to save him from the follies he might be guilty of. One day as he arrived on the Cannebière, he found himself face to face with a captain of the National Guard, who was making the new gold braid on his uniform dazzle in the sun. After a moment he recognised Sauvaire.

      The former master-stevedore was beaming. He struck his heel on the pavement in a victorious fashion. At times, when he glanced at his epaulettes out of the corner of his eye, a smile of satisfied vanity hovered round his lips. His sword troubled him somewhat by knocking against his calves; but he held it, leaning his hand on the hilt, with rounded arm. His uniform fitted him tightly in true military style, and if he were bursting in his tunic, he was happy to do so for the welfare of his country. By the way he walked, with his elbows stuck out, one could see he saved France at every ten paces. You could read on his intensely-delighted countenance, childlike joy at being dressed up as a soldier, and a burning desire to be taken seriously.

      His meeting with Marius at first rather embarrassed him. He feared the latter might remember the past, the time when he frequented the gambling hells, and that he would make fun at finding him in uniform. He looked СКАЧАТЬ