THE COMPLETE WORKS OF ÉMILE ZOLA. Эмиль Золя

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СКАЧАТЬ most Italians, he was a born intriguer. He used and abused his uncle’s recommendation to the bishop of Marseille, and soon became a power, an occult power working underground, and digging pitfalls in front of those persons he desired to remove from his path. Joining a religious club, then all-powerful at Marseille, he succeeded in imposing his will on his colleagues, thanks to his suppleness, his perpetual smile and humility, and in becoming the leader of a party. Then he interested himself in every event, had a finger in every pie. It was he who secured M. de Cazalis’ election as deputy, and he was awaiting a fitting opportunity to claim the reward of his services. His plan was to work for the success of wealthy people; later on, when he had merited their gratitude, he intended to make use of them in building up his own fortune.

      He questioned Marius courteously; by the attention he paid him and his sympathetic manner, he seemed fully disposed to assist him in his work of deliverance. The young man allowed himself to be taken in by this pleasant, amiable behaviour, and unburdened himself, relating his plans, and owning that the clergy alone could save his brother. Finally, he begged his kind offices with his lordship the bishop.

      Abbé Donadéi rose, and said in a tone of austere raillery:

      “My cloth, sir, forbids my mixing myself up in this deplorable and scandalous affair. The enemies of the Church are only too fond of accusing the clergy of interfering in worldly affairs. I can only beseech the Almighty to pardon your brother.”

      Marius, in dismay, had also risen. He understood that he had just been duped by Donadéi. He sought, however, to disguise his feelings.

      “I thank you,” he replied. “Prayers are indeed the sweetest of alms for the unfortunate. Pray that we may be granted the justice of our fellow men.”

      He turned towards the door, followed by Abbé Chastanier with bowed head. Donadéi had affected to ignore the old priest. When they were on the point of leaving the room, the handsome abbé, recovering all his graceful sprightliness, detained Marius a moment.

      “You are employed at M. Martelly’s, I think?” he asked.

      “Yes, sir,” the young man answered, with surprise.

      “He is a very honourable man. I know, however, that he is not one of our friends. Nevertheless, I esteem him greatly. His sister, Mademoiselle Claire, whose spiritual director I have the honour of being, is one of our best parishioners.”

      And as Marius looked at him, finding nothing to say, Donadéi added, with a slight blush:

      “She is a charming person, most exemplarily pious.”

      He bowed with exquisite politeness and then gently closed the door. Outside on the pavement, Abbé Chastanier and Marius looked at each other, and the young man could not help shrugging his shoulders. The old priest was quite confused at having seen one of God’s ministers play a part like an actor. He turned to his companion, and said, hesitatingly:

      “My friend, you must not blame the Almighty if His ministers are not always what they should be. The young man we have just been with is only guilty of ambition — “

      He continued a long time in this strain, finding excuses for Donadéi.

      Marius watched him, affected by his goodness; and, in spite of himself, he compared this poor old man to the powerful abbé, whose smiles were law in the diocese. Then he reflected that the Church did not love all her sons equally, but like most mothers spoilt the rosy-cheeked ones and neglected the tender spirits who did good by stealth.

      The two visitors were moving off when a carriage drew up at the door of the close, discreet little house, and Marius beheld M. de Cazalis alight. The deputy hastily entered Abbé Donadéi’s abode.

      “Look, father!” exclaimed the young man. “I feel certain that priest’s cloth will not prevent his abetting M. de Cazalis in his vengeance.”

      He was tempted to return to that home of hypocrisy; but, calming himself, he thanked Abbé Chastanier, and went off. He thought, with despair, that the last loophole of safety, the one in possession of the upper clergy, was closing before him.

      On the morrow, M. Martelly told him the result of a visit he had paid to the chief notary of Marseille, M. Douglas, a pious man who in less than eight years had become quite a power through his wealthy clients and his great charity. His name was loved and respected. People spoke admiringly of the virtues of this upright worker who led a frugal life; unlimited confidence was placed in his honesty, and the activity of his intelligence.

      M. Martelly had availed himself of his services when investing some money. He thought that, if Douglas would use his influence on Marius’ behalf, the latter would secure some of the clergy to his side. He called on the notary and asked for his assistance.

      Douglas, who appeared very much occupied, muttered an evasive reply, saying that he was overwhelmed with business and quite unable to struggle against M. de Cazalis.

      “I did not persist,” said M. Martelly to Marius, “I thought I understood that your adversary had been beforehand with you there. Yet I am surprised that such an upright man as M. Douglas should have allowed his hands to be tied. I am afraid, now, my poor friend, that the game is indeed up.” For a whole month, Marius went about Marseille seeking to win over a few influential persons. He was everywhere received coldly, with railing politeness. M. Martelly was not more fortunate. The deputy had enlisted the sympathies of the whole nobility and clergy. The middle-classes, the shopkeepers, were laughing in their sleeves, unwilling to move owing to their great fear of compromising themselves. As for the common people, they sang songs about M. de Cazalis and his niece, this being all they could do on Philippe Cayol’s behalf.

      Days passed by, and the preparations for the trial went on apace. Marius was still as much alone as on the first day, in preparing his brother’s defence against the uncle’s hatred and the niece’s obedient falsehoods. There was only Fine, whose angry speeches merely won over the workgirls’ warm sympathy to Philippe’s cause.

      One morning Marius learnt that the act of accusation against his brother and the gardener Ayasse had been drawn up, the former being accused of abduction and the latter with being an accomplice in the crime. Madame Cayol had been released for want of proof.

      Marius hurried off to embrace his mother. The poor woman had suffered greatly during her incarceration; her feeble health was seriously compromised. A few days after leaving the prison, she gently expired in her son’s arms, and he sobbing, vowed to avenge her death.

      The funeral was the occasion for a popular demonstration. Philippe’s mother was conveyed to the Saint Charles cemetery followed by a long procession of women of the people who did not hesitate to revile M. de Cazalis openly. They were even strongly inclined, after the funeral, to go and throw stones at the windows of the deputy’s house.

      Alone in his little lodging in the Rue Sainte, Marius, when all was over, felt himself deserted in the world, and wept bitterly. His tears relieved him, he saw the road he had to follow traced out clearly before him. The misfortunes which were overwhelming him increased, in his breast, the love of truth and hatred of injustice. He felt that all his life must henceforth be devoted to a holy cause. He could no longer act at Marseille, the scene of the drama having changed. Future events would be occurring at Aix, where the trial was to be held. He desired to be on the spot in order to follow the different phases of the affair, and take advantage of any incidents which might arise. He asked his employer for a month’s leave of absence, which the latter immediately granted. The day of his departure, he found Fine waiting at the coach-office.

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