Kitabı oku: «The Deputy of Arcis», sayfa 25

“So,” remarked Sallenauve, “to love you would have been insulting; not to love you was cruel! What sort of woman are you, that either way you are displeased?”

“You ought not to have loved me,” she replied, “while the mud was still on my skirts and you scarcely knew me; because then your love would have been the love of the eyes and not of the soul. But when, after two years passed beside you, you had seen by my conduct that I was an honorable woman; when, without ever accepting a pleasure, I devoted myself to the care of the house and your comfort without other relaxation than the study of my art; and when, above all, I sacrificed to you that modesty you had seen me defend with such energy, – then you were cruel not to comprehend, and never, never will your imagination tell you what I have suffered, and all the tears you have made me shed.”

“But, my dear Luigia, I was your host, and even had I suspected what you now reveal to me, my duty as an honorable man would have commanded me to see nothing of it, and to take no advantage of you.”

“Ah! that is not the reason; it is simpler than that. You saw nothing because your fancy turned elsewhere.”

“Well, and if it were so?”

“It ought not to be so,” replied Luigia, vehemently. “That woman is not free; she has a husband and children, and though you did make a saint of her, I presume to say, ridiculous as it may seem, that she is not worth me!”

Sallenauve could not help smiling, but he answered very seriously, —

“You are totally mistaken as to your rival. Madame de l’Estorade was never anything to me but a model, without other value than the fact that she resembled another woman. That one I knew in Rome before I knew you. She had beauty, youth, and a glorious inclination for art. To-day she is confined in a convent; like you, she has paid her tribute to sorrow; therefore, you see – ”

“What, three hearts devoted to you,” cried Luigia, “and not one accepted? A strange star is yours! No doubt I suffer from its fatal influence, and therefore I must pardon you.”

“You are good to be merciful; will you now let me ask you a question? Just now you spoke of your future, and I see it with my own eyes. Who are the friends who have suddenly advanced you so far and so splendidly in your career? Have you made any compact with the devil?”

“Perhaps,” said Luigia, laughing.

“Don’t laugh,” said Sallenauve; “you chose to rush alone and unprotected into that hell called Paris, and I dread lest you have made some fatal acquaintance. I know the immense difficulties and the immense dangers that a woman placed as you are now must meet. Who is this lady that you spoke of? and how did you ever meet her while living under my roof?”

“She is a pious and charitable woman, who came to see me during your absence at Arcis. She had noticed my voice at Saint-Sulpice, during the services of the Month of Mary, and she tried to entice me away to her own parish church of Notre-Dame de Lorette, – it was for that she came to see me.”

“Tell me her name.”

“Madame de Saint-Esteve.”

Though far from penetrating the many mysteries that surrounded Jacqueline Collin, Sallenauve knew Madame de Saint-Esteve to be a woman of doubtful character and a matrimonial agent, having at times heard Bixiou tell tales of her.

“But that woman,” he said, “has a shocking notoriety in Paris. She is an adventuress of the worst kind.”

“I suspected it,” said Luigia. “But what of that?”

“And the man to whom she introduced you?”

“He an adventurer? No, I think not. At any rate, he did me a great service.”

“But he may have designs upon you.”

“Yes, people may have designs upon me,” replied Luigia, with dignity, “but they cannot execute them: between those designs and me, there is myself.”

“But your reputation?”

“That was lost before I left your house. I was said to be your mistress; you had yourself to contradict that charge before the electoral college; you contradicted it, but you could not stop it.”

“And my esteem, for which you profess to care?”

“I no longer want it. You did not love me when I wished for it; you shall not love me now that I no longer wish it.”

“Who knows?” exclaimed Sallenauve.

“There are two reasons why it cannot be,” said the singer. “In the first place, it is too late; and in the second, we are no longer on the same path.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I am an artist and you have ceased to be one. I rise; you fall.”

“Do you call it falling to rise, perhaps, to the highest dignities of the State?”

“To whatever height you rise,” said Luigia, passionately, “you will ever be below your past and the noble future that was once before you – Ah! stay; I think that I have lied to you; had you remained a sculptor, I believe I should have borne still longer your coldness and your disdain; I should have waited until I entered my vocation, until the halo round a singer’s head might have shown you, at last, that I was there beside you. But on the day that you apostatized I would no longer continue my humiliating sacrifice. There is no future possible between us.”

“Do you mean,” said Sallenauve, holding out his hand, which she did not take, “that we cannot even be friends?”

“No,” she replied; “all is over – past and gone. We shall hear of each other; and from afar, as we pass in life, we can wave our hands in recognition, but nothing further.”

“So,” said Sallenauve, sadly, “this is how it all ends!”

La Luigia looked at him a moment, her eyes shining with tears.

“Listen,” she said in a resolute and sincere tone: “this is possible. I have loved you, and after you, no one can enter the heart you have despised. You will hear that I have lovers; believe it not; you will not believe it, remembering the woman that I am. But who knows? Later your life may be swept clean of the other sentiments that have stood in my way; the freedom, the strangeness of the avowal I have just made to you will remain in your memory, and then it is not impossible that after this long rejection you may end by desiring me. If that should happen, – if at the end of many sad deceptions you should return, in sheer remorse, to the religion of art, – then, then, supposing that long years have not made love ridiculous between us, remember this evening. Now, let us part; it is already too late for a tete-a-tete.”

So saying, she took a light and passed into an inner room, leaving Sallenauve in a state of mind we can readily imagine after the various shocks and surprises of this interview.

On returning to his hotel he found Jacques Bricheteau awaiting him.

“Where the devil have you been?” cried the organist, impatiently. “It is too late now to take the steamboat.”

“Well,” said Sallenauve, carelessly, “then I shall have a few hours longer to play truant.”

“But during that time your enemies are tunnelling their mine.”

“I don’t care. In that cave called political life one has to be ready for anything.”

“I thought as much!” exclaimed Bricheteau. “You have been to see Luigia; her success has turned your head, and the deputy is thinking of his statues.”

“How often have I heard you say yourself that Art alone is great?”

“But an orator,” replied Bricheteau, “is also an artist, and the greatest of all. Others speak to the heart and the mind, but he to the conscience and the will of others. At any rate, this is no time to look back; you are engaged in a duel with your adversaries. Are you an honest man, or a scoundrel who has stolen a name? There is the question which may, in consequence of your absence, be answered against you in the Chamber.”

“I begin to feel that you have led me into a mistaken path; I had in my hands a treasure, and I have flung it away!”

“Happily,” said the organist, “that’s only an evening mist which the night will dissipate. To-morrow you will remember the engagement you are under to your father, and the great future which is before you.”

IX. IN THE CHAMBER

The king had opened the Chamber, but Sallenauve was not present, and his absence was causing a certain sensation in the democratic ranks. The “National” was particularly disturbed. As a stockholder of the paper, coming frequently to its office before the election, and even consenting to write articles for it, how strange that on the eve of the opening of the session the newly elected deputy should not come near it!

“Now that he is elected,” said some of the editorial staff, remarking on the total disappearance of the man whom they considered they had done their part to elect, “does monsieur think he can treat us scurvily? It is getting too much the habit of these lordly deputies to be very obsequious as long as they are candidates, and throw us away, after they have climbed the tree, like an old coat.”

Less excitable, the editor-in-chief calmed this first ebullition, but Sallenauve’s absence from the royal session seemed to him very strange.

The next day, when the bureaus are constituted, presidents and secretaries appointed, and committees named, Sallenauve’s absence was still more marked. In the bureau for which his name was drawn, it happened that the election of its president depended on one vote; through the absence of the deputy of Arcis, the ministry gained that advantage and the Opposition lost it. Much discontent was expressed by the newspapers of the latter party; they did not, as yet, openly attack the conduct of the defaulter, but they declared that they could not account for it.

Maxime de Trailles, on the other hand, fully prepared and on the watch, was waiting only until the routine business of the bureaus and the appointment of the committees was disposed of to send in the petition of the Romilly peasant-woman, which had been carefully drawn up by Massol, under whose clever pen the facts he was employed to make the most of assumed that degree of probability which barristers contrive to communicate to their sayings and affirmations. But when Maxime had the joy of seeing that Sallenauve’s absence in itself was creating a prejudice against him, he went again to Rastignac and asked him if he did not think it better to hasten the moment of attack, since everything seemed so favorable.

This time Rastignac was much more explicit: Sallenauve’s absence abroad seemed to him the conduct of a man who feared exposure and had lost his head. He therefore advised de Trailles to have the petition sent in at once, and he made no difficulty about promising his assistance to a conspiracy which appeared to be taking color, the result of which must be, in any case, a very pretty scandal. The next day the first trace of his subterranean influence was visible. The order of the day in the Chamber was the verification of powers, – that is, the admission of newly elected members. The deputy appointed to report on the elections in the department of the Aube was a strong partisan of the ministry, and, in consequence of a confidential communication made to him that morning, the following paragraph appeared in his report: —

The action of the electoral college of Arcis was regular. Monsieur de Sallenauve produced in proper time all the necessary papers proving his eligibility; his admission therefore would seem to present no difficulty. But rumors of a singular nature have been current since the election as to the name and identity of the new deputy; and, in support of these rumors, a petition to authorize a criminal prosecution has been laid before the president of the Chamber. This petition states an extremely serious fact, namely: that Monsieur de Sallenauve has usurped the name he bears; and this usurpation, being made by means of an official document, assumes the character of forgery committed by substitution of person. A most regrettable circumstance, continued the report, is the absence of Monsieur de Sallenauve, who instead of instantly contradicting the accusation made against him, has not appeared since the opening of the Chamber at any of its sessions, and it is not even known where he is. Under these circumstances, his admission, the committee think, cannot be granted; and they feel it therefore their duty to refer the matter to the Chamber.

Daniel d’Arthez, a deputy of the legitimist opposition, who had been favorable to the election of Sallenauve, hastened, after the reading of this report, to ask for the floor, and entreated the Chamber to remark that its adoption would be wholly unjustifiable.

“The point for the committee to decide,” he said, “was the regularity of the election. The report distinctly states that this is not called in question. The Chamber can, therefore, do only one thing; namely, admit by an immediate vote the validity of an election about which no irregularity is alleged. To bring in the question of authorizing a criminal investigation would be an abuse of power; because by not allowing discussion or defence, and by dispensing with the usual forms of procedure which guarantee certain rights to a party implicated, the Chamber would be virtually rejecting the action of the electors in the exercise of their sovereign functions. Every one can see, moreover,” added the orator, “that to grant the right of criminal investigation in this connection is to prejudge the merits of the case; the presumption of innocence, which is the right of every man, is ignored – whereas in this case the person concerned is a man whose integrity has never been doubted, and who has just been openly honored by the suffrages of his fellow citizens.”

The discussion was prolonged for some time, the ministerial orators, of course, taking the other side, until an unfortunate event occurred. The senior deputy, acting as president (for the Chamber was not yet constituted), was a worn-out old man, very absent-minded, and wholly unaccustomed to the functions which his age devolved upon him. He had duly received Monsieur de Sallenauve’s letter requesting leave of absence; and had he recollected to communicate it, as in duty bound, to the Chamber at the proper time, the discussion would probably have been nipped in the bud. But parliamentary matters are apt to go haphazard; when, reminded of the letter by the discussion, he produced it, and when the Chamber learned that the request for leave of absence was made for an indefinite period and for the vague purpose of “urgent affairs,” the effect was lamentable.

“It is plain,” said all the ministerial party, “that he has gone to England to escape an investigation; he feared the result; he feels himself unmasked.”

This view, setting aside political prejudices, was shared by the sterner minds of all parties, who refused to conceive of a man not hastening to defend himself from such a blasting accusation. In short, after a very keen and able argument from the attorney-general, Vinet, who had taken heart on finding that the accused was likely to be condemned by default, the question of adjournment was put to the vote and passed, but by a very small majority; eight days being granted to the said deputy to appear and defend himself.

The day after the vote was passed Maxime de Trailles wrote to Madame Beauvisage as follows: —

Madame, – The enemy received a severe check yesterday. In the opinion of my friend Rastignac, a very intelligent and experienced judge in parliamentary matters, Dorlange can never recover from the blow, no matter what may happen later. If we cannot succeed in producing positive proof to support the statement of our good peasant-woman, it is possible that this rascal, supposing always that he ventures to return to France, may be admitted to the Chamber. But if he is, he can only drag on a despised and miserable existence; he will be driven to resign, and then the election of Monsieur Beauvisage is beyond all doubt; for the electors, ashamed to have forsaken him for such a rascal, will be only too glad to reinstate themselves in public opinion by the choice of an honorable man – who was, in fact, their first choice.

It is to your rare sagacity, madame, that this result is due; for without that species of second sight which showed you the chances hidden in the revelation of that woman, we should have missed our best weapon. I must tell you though you may think this vanity, that neither Rastignac nor the attorney-general, in spite of their great political acumen, perceived the true value of your discovery; and I myself, if I had not had the good fortune of your acquaintance, and thus been enabled to judge of the great value of all ideas emanating from you, even I might have shared the indifference of the two statesmen to the admirable weapon which you have placed in our hands. I have now succeeded in proving to Rastignac the shrewdness and perspicacity you have shown in this matter, and he sincerely admires you for them. Therefore, madame, when I have the happiness of belonging to you by the tie we proposed, I shall not have to initiate you into politics, for you have already found your way there.

Nothing further can take place for a week, which is the period of delay granted by the Chamber. If the defaulter does not then appear, I am confident his election will be annulled. You can easily believe that between now and then all my efforts will be given to increase the feeling in the Chamber against him, both by arguments in the press and by private conversations. Rastignac has also given orders among the ministerial adherents to that effect. We may feel confident, therefore, that by the end of another week our enemy will find public opinion solidly against him.

Will you permit me, madame, to recall myself to the memory of Mademoiselle Cecile, and accept yourself, together with Monsieur Beauvisage, the assurance of my most respectful sentiments.

A hint from certain quarters given to the ministerial journals now began to surround Sallenauve’s name with an atmosphere of disrespect and ridicule; insulting insinuations colored his absence with an appearance of escaping the charges. The effect of these attacks was all the greater because Sallenauve was very weakly defended by his political co-religionists, which was scarcely surprising. Not knowing how to explain his conduct, the Opposition papers were afraid to commit themselves in favor of a man whose future was daily becoming more nebulous.

On the evening before the day on which the time granted for an explanation would expire, Sallenauve being still absent, a ministerial paper published, under the heading of “A Lost Deputy,” a very witty and insolent article, which was read by every one and created a great sensation. During that evening Madame de l’Estorade went to see Madame de Camps, whom she found alone with her husband. She was greatly agitated, and said, as soon as she entered the room, —

“Have you read that infamous article?”

“No,” replied Madame Octave, “but Monsieur de Camps was just telling me about it. It is really shameful that the ministry should not only countenance, but instigate such villanies.”

“I am half crazy,” said Madame de l’Estorade; “the whole blame rests on us.”

“That is saying too much,” said Madame Octave.

“No,” said her husband, “I agree with madame; all the venom of this affair could have been destroyed by one action of de l’Estorade’s, and in refusing to make it he is, if not the author, at least the accomplice of this slander.”

“Your wife has told you – ” began Madame de l’Estorade in a reproachful tone.

“Yes,” said Madame de Camps; “it was necessary to explain to my husband the sort of madness that seemed to have taken possession of M. de l’Estorade; but what I said to him was not unfaithful to any secret that concerned you personally.”

“Ah! you are such a united pair,” said Madame de l’Estorade, with a heavy sigh. “I don’t regret that you have told all that to your husband; in fact, two heads are better than one to advise me in the cruel position in which I am placed.”

“What has happened?” asked Madame de Camps.

“My husband is losing his head,” replied the countess. “I don’t see a trace of his old moral sense left in him. Far from understanding that he is, as Monsieur de Camps said just now, the accomplice of the shameful attack which is going on, and that he has not, like those who started it, the excuse of ignorance, he actually seems to take delight in this wickedness. Just now he brought me that vile paper triumphantly, and I could scarcely prevent his being very angry with me for not agreeing with his opinion that it was infinitely witty and amusing.”

“That letter of Monsieur Gaston’s was a terrible shock to him,” said Madame de Camps, – “a shock not only to his heart but to his body.”

“I admit that,” said her husband; “but, hang it! a man is a man, and he ought to take the words of a maniac for what they are worth.”

“It is certainly very singular that Monsieur de Sallenauve does not return,” said Madame Octave; “for that Joseph Bricheteau, to whom you gave his address, must have written to him.”

“Oh!” cried the countess, “there’s fatality in the whole thing. To-morrow the question of confirming the election or not comes up in the Chamber; and if Monsieur de Sallenauve is not here by that time, the ministry expects to annul it.”

“It is infamous,” said Monsieur de Camps, “and I have a great mind to go to the president of the Chamber, and tell him how matters are.”

“I would have asked you to do so at the risk of my husband suspecting my interference, but one thing restrained me. Monsieur de Sallenauve particularly desires that Monsieur Gaston’s mental condition be not made public.”

“It is evident,” said Madame de Camps, “that do defend him in any way would go against his wishes. After all, the decision against him in the Chamber is very doubtful, whereas Monsieur Gaston’s madness, if mentioned publicly, would never be forgotten.”

“But I have not told you the worst so far as I am concerned,” said Madame de l’Estorade. “Just before dinner my husband imparted to me an absolutely Satanic desire of his – order, I might call it.”

“What was it?” asked Madame de Camps, anxiously.

“He wishes me to go with him to the Chamber to-morrow, – to the gallery reserved for the peers of France, – and listen to the discussion.”

“He is actually, as you say, losing his head,” cried Monsieur de Camps; “he is like Thomas Diafoirus, proposing to take his fiance to enjoy a dissection – ”

Madame de Camps made her husband a sign which meant, “Don’t pour oil on the fire.” Then she asked the countess whether she had tried to show M. de l’Estorade the impropriety of that step.

“The moment I began to object,” replied the countess, “he was angry, and said I must be very anxious to keep up our intimacy with ‘that man’ when I rejected such a natural opportunity to show publicly that the acquaintance was at an end.”

“Well, my dear, you will have to go,” said Madame de Camps. “The peace of your home before everything else! Besides, considering all things, your presence at the discussion may be taken as a proof of kindly interest.”

“For sixteen years,” remarked Monsieur de Camps, “you have ruled and governed in your home; and here, at last, is a revolution which cruelly overturns your power.”

“Ah, monsieur, I beg you to believe that that sovereignty – which I always sought to conceal – I never used arbitrarily.”

“As if I did not know that!” replied Monsieur de Camps, taking Madame de l’Estorade’s hand and pressing it affectionately. “I am, nevertheless, of my wife’s opinion: you will have to drink this cup.”

“But I shall die of shame in listening to the ministerial infamies; I shall feel that they are cutting the throat of a man whom two words from me could save.”

“True,” said Monsieur de Camps, “and a man, too, who has done you a vast service. But you must choose: do you prefer to bring hell into your home, and exasperate the unhealthy condition of your husband’s mind?”

“Listen to me, dearest,” said Madame de Camps. “Tell Monsieur de l’Estorade that I want to go to this session, and ask him for a permit; don’t yield the point to any objections. I shall then be there to take care of you, and perhaps protect you from yourself.”

“I did not dare ask it of you,” replied Madame de l’Estorade. “We don’t usually invite friends to see us commit bad actions; but since you are so kind as to offer, I can truly say I shall be less wretched if you are with me. Now good-bye; I don’t want my husband to find me out when he comes home. He is dining with Monsieur de Rastignac, where, no doubt, they are plotting for to-morrow.”

“Yes, go; and I will write you a note in the course of an hour, as if I had not seen you, asking you to get me a permit for to-morrow’s session, which I am told will be very interesting.”

“To be reduced to conspiracy!” cried Madame de l’Estorade, kissing her friend.

“My dear love,” said Madame de Camps, “they say the life of a Christian is a struggle, but that of a woman married in a certain way is a pitched battle. Have patience and courage.”

So saying, the two friends separated.

The next day, about two o’clock, Madame de l’Estorade, accompanied by her husband and Madame Octave de Camps, took their places in the gallery reserved for the members of the peerage. She seemed ill, and answered languidly the bows and salutations that were addressed to her from all parts of the Chamber. Madame de Camps, who was present for the first time in the parliamentary precincts, made two observations: first, she objected strongly to the slovenly costume of a great many of the “honorable gentlemen”; and she was also amazed at the number of bald heads she looked down upon from the gallery. Monsieur de l’Estorade took pains to point out to her all the notabilities present: first, the great men whom we need not mention, because their names are in everybody’s memory; next, the poet Canalis, whose air she thought Olympian; d’Arthez, who pleased her by his modesty and absence of assumption; Vinet, of whom she remarked that he was like a viper in spectacles; Victorin Hulot, a noted orator of the Left Centre. It was some time before she could accustom herself to the hum of the various conversations, which seemed to her like the buzzing of bees around their hive; but the thing that most amazed her was the general aspect of this assemblage of legislators, where a singular laisser-aller and a total absence of dignity would never have led her to suppose she was in the hall of the representatives of a great people.

It was written that on this day no pain or unpleasantness should be spared to Madame de l’Estorade. Just before the sitting began, the Marquise d’Espard, accompanied by Monsieur de Ronquerolles, entered the peers’ gallery and took her seat beside the countess. Though meeting constantly in society, the two women could not endure each other. Madame de l’Estorade despised the spirit of intrigue, the total lack of principle, and the sour, malevolent nature which the marquise covered with an elegant exterior; and the marquise despised, to a still greater degree, what she called the pot-au-feu virtues of Madame de l’Estorade. It must also be mentioned that Madame de l’Estorade was thirty-two years old and her beauty was still undimmed, whereas Madame d’Espard was forty-four, and, in spite of the careful dissimulations of the toilet, her beauty was fairly at an end.

“You do not often come here, I think,” said Madame d’Espard, after the usual conventional phrases about the pleasure of their meeting had passed.

“I never come,” replied Madame de l’Estorade.

“And I am most assiduous,” said Madame d’Espard.

Then, pretending to a sudden recollection, she added, —

“Ah! I forgot; you have a special interest, I think, on this occasion. A friend of yours is to be judged, is he not?”

“Yes; Monsieur de Sallenauve has been to our house several times.”

“How sad it is,” said the marquise, “to see a man who, Monsieur de Ronquerolles tells me, had the making of a hero in many ways, come down to the level of the correctional police.”

“His crime so far,” said Madame de l’Estorade, dryly, “consists solely in his absence.”

“At any rate,” continued the marquise, “he seems to be a man eaten up by ambition. Before his parliamentary attempt, he made, as you doubtless know, a matrimonial attempt upon the Lantys, which ended in the beautiful heiress of that family, into whose good graces he had insinuated himself, being sent to a convent.”

Madame de l’Estorade was not much surprised at finding that this history, which Sallenauve had told her as very secret, had reached the knowledge of Madame d’Espard. The marquise was one of the best informed women in Paris; her salon, as an old academician had said mythologically, was the Temple of Fame.

“I think the sitting is about to begin,” said Madame de l’Estorade; fearing some blow from the claws of the marquise, she was eager to put an end to the conversation.

The president had rung his bell, the deputies were taking their seats, the curtain was about to rise. As a faithful narrator of the session we desire our readers to attend, we think it safer and better in every way to copy verbatim the report of the debate as given in one of the morning papers of the following day.

Chamber of Deputies.

In the chair, M. Cointet (vice-president).

(Sitting of May 28.)

At two o’clock the president takes his seat.

M. the Keeper of the Seals, M. the minister of the Interior, M. the minister of Public Works, are on the ministerial bench.

The minutes of the last session are read, approved, and accepted.

The order of the day is the verification of the powers and the admission of the deputy elected by the arrondissement of Arcis-sur-Aube.

The President. – M. the reporter, from the Committee on the elections of the department of the Aube, has the floor.

The Reporter. – Gentlemen, the singular and regrettable situation in which Monsieur de Sallenauve has placed himself has not terminated in the manner that was hoped and expected last week. The period of delay expired yesterday; Monsieur de Sallenauve continues to absent himself from your sittings, and no letter has reached M. le president asking for further leave of absence. This indifference to the functions which Monsieur de Sallenauve appeared to have solicited with so much eagerness [slight agitation on the Left] would be, in any case, a grave mistake; but when connected with an accusation that seriously compromises the deputy elect, it must be regarded as altogether unfortunate for his reputation. [Murmurs on the Left. Approbation from the Centre.] Compelled to search for the solution of a difficulty which may be said to be without precedent in parliamentary annals, your committee, in the adoption of suitable measures, finds itself divided into two very distinct opinions. The minority whom I represent – the committee consisting of but three members – thinks that it ought to submit to you a resolution which I shall call radical, and which has for its object the cutting short of the difficulty by returning the question to its natural judges. Annul hic et nunc the election of Monsieur de Sallenauve, and send him back to the voters by whom he was elected and of whom he is so unfaithful a representative. Such is one of the solutions I have the honor to present to you. [Agitation on the Left.] The majority, on the contrary, are of opinion that the will of the electors cannot be too highly respected, and that the faults of a man honored by their confidence ought not to be discussed until the utmost limits of forbearance and indulgence have been passed. Consequently your committee instruct me to suggest that you grant to Monsieur de Sallenauve a further delay of fifteen days [murmurs from the Centre; “Very good! very good!” from the Left]; being satisfied that if after that delay Monsieur de Sallenauve does not present himself or give any other sign of existence, it will be sufficient proof that he has thrown up his election, and the Chamber need not be dragged on his account into irritating and useless debates. [Murmurs of various kinds.]

M. le Colonel Franchessini, who during the foregoing speech was sitting on the ministers’ bench in earnest conversation with the minister of Public Works, here demanded the floor.

The President. – M. de Canalis has already asked for it.

M. de Canalis. – Gentlemen, M. de Sallenauve is one of those bold men who, like myself, are convinced that politics are not forbidden fruit to any form of intellect, and that in the poet, in the artist, as well as in the magistrate, the administrator, the lawyer, the physician, and the property-holder, may be found the stuff that makes a statesman. In virtue of this community of opinion, M. de Sallenauve has my entire sympathy, and no one can be surprised to see me mount this tribune to support the proposal of the majority of your committee. I cannot, however, agree to their final conclusion; and the idea of our colleague being declared, without discussion, dismissed from this Chamber through the single fact of his absence, prolonged without leave, is repugnant to my reason and also to my conscience. You are told: “The absence of M. de Sallenauve is all the more reprehensible because he is under the odium of a serious accusation.” But suppose this accusation is the very cause of his absence – [“Ha! ha!” from the Centre, and laughter.] Allow me to say, gentlemen, that I am not, perhaps, quite so artless as Messieurs the laughers imagine. I have one blessing, at any rate: ignoble interpretations do not come into my mind; and that M. de Sallenauve, with the eminent position he has filled in the world of art, should seek to enter the world of politics by means of a crime, is a supposition which I cannot admit a priori. Around a birth like his two hideous spiders called slander and intrigue have every facility to spread their toils; and far from admitting that he has fled before the accusation that now attacks him, I ask myself whether his absence does not mean that he is now engaged in collecting the elements of his defence. [Left: “Very good!” “That’s right.” Ironical laughter in the Centre.] Under that supposition – in my opinion most probable – so far from arraigning him in consequence of this absence, ought we not rather to consider it as an act of deference to the Chamber whose deliberations he did not feel worthy to share until he found himself in a position to confound his calumniators?

A Voice. – He wants leave of absence for ten years, like Telemachus, to search for his father. [General laughter.]

M. de Canalis. – I did not expect so poetical an interruption; but since the memory of the Odyssey has been thus evoked, I shall ask the Chamber to kindly remember that Ulysses, though disguised as a beggar and loaded with insults, was yet able to string his bow and easily get the better of his enemies. [Violent murmurs from the Centre.] I vote for leave of absence for fifteen days, and that the Chamber be again consulted at the expiration of that time.

M. le Colonel Franchessini. – I do not know if the last speaker intended to intimidate the Chamber, but, for my part, such arguments have very little power upon me, and I am always ready to send them back whence they came. [Left: “Come! come!”]

The President. – Colonel, no provocations!

M. le Colonel Franchessini. – I am, however, of the opinion of the speaker who preceded me; I do not think that the delinquent has fled to escape the accusation against him. Neither that accusation, nor the effect it will produce upon your minds, nor even the quashing of his election would be able at this moment to occupy his mind. Do you wish to know what M. de Sallenauve is doing in England? Then read the English papers. For the last week they have rung with the praises of a new prima donna who has just made her first appearance at the London opera-house. [Violent murmurs; interruption.]

A Voice. – Such gossip is unworthy of this Chamber!

M. le Colonel Franchessini. – Gentlemen, being more accustomed to the frankness of camps than to the reticence of these precincts, I may perhaps have committed the impropriety of thinking aloud. The preceding speaker said to you that he believed M. de Sallenauve was employed in collecting his means of defence; well, I do not say to you “I believe,” I tell you I know that a rich stranger succeed in substituting his protection for what which Phidias, our colleague, was bestowing on his handsome model, an Italian woman – [Fresh interruption. “Order! order!” “This is intolerable!”]

A Voice. – M. le president, silence the speaker!

Colonel Franchessini crosses his arms and waits till the tumult subsides.

The President. – I request the speaker to keep to the question.

M. le Colonel Franchessini. – The question! I have not left it. But, inasmuch as the Chamber refuses to hear me, I declare that I side with the minority of the committee. It seems to me very proper to send M. de Sallenauve back to his electors in order to know whether they intended to send a deputy or a lover to this Chamber – [“Order! order!” Loud disturbance on the Left. The tumult increases.]

M. de Canalis hurries to the tribune.

The President. – M. le ministre of Public Works has asked for the floor; as minister of the king he has the first right to be heard.

M. de Rastignac. – It has not been without remonstrance on my part, gentlemen, that this scandal has been brought to your notice. I endeavored, in the name of the long friendship which unites me to Colonel Franchessini, to persuade him not to speak on this delicate subject, lest his parliamentary inexperience, aggravated in a measure by his witty facility of speech, should lead him to some very regrettable indiscretion. Such, gentleman, was the subject of the little conversation you may have seen that he held with me on my bench before he asked for the floor; and I myself have asked for the same privilege only in order to remove from your minds all idea of my complicity in the great mistake he has just, as I think, committed by condescending to the private details he has thought fit to relate to this assembly. But as, against my intention, and I may add against my will, I have entered the tribune, the Chamber will permit me, perhaps, – although no ministerial interest is here concerned, – to say a few words. [Cries from the Centre: “Go on!” “Speak!”]

M. le ministre then went on to say that the conduct of the absent deputy showed contempt for the Chamber; he was treating it lightly and cavalierly. M. de Sallenauve had asked for leave of absence; but how or where had he asked for it? From a foreign country! That is to say, he began by taking it, and then asked for it! Did he trouble himself, as is usual in such cases, to give a reason for the request? No; he merely says, in his letter to your president, that he is forced to absent himself on “urgent business,” – a very convenient excuse, on which the Chamber might be depopulated of half its members. But, supposing that M. de Sallenauve’s business was really urgent, and that he thought it of a nature not to be explained in a letter that would necessarily be made public, why had he not written confidentially to the president, or even requested a friend in some responsible position, whose simple word would have sufficed, to assure the Chamber of the necessity of the deputy’s absence without requiring any statement of private reasons?

At this point M. de Rastignac’s remarks were interrupted by a commotion in the corridor to the right. Several deputies left their seats; others jumped upon the benches, apparently endeavoring to see something. The minister, after turning to the president, from whom he seemed to be asking an explanation, went back to the ministerial bench, where he was immediately surrounded by a number of the deputies of the Centre, among whom, noticeable for the vehemence of his gestures, was M. le procureur-general Vinet. Groups formed in the audience chamber; the sitting was, in fact, informally suspended.

After a few moments’ delay M. le president rings his bell.

The Ushers. – Take your seats, gentlemen.

The deputies hasten on all sides to do so.

The President. – M. de Sallenauve has the floor.

M. de Sallenauve, who, during the few moments that the sitting was interrupted by his entrance, has been talking with M. de Canalis and M. d’Arthez, goes to the tribune. His manner is modest, but he shows no sign of embarrassment. Every one is struck by his resemblance to the portraits of one of the most fiery of the revolutionary orators.

A Voice. – It is Danton – without the small-pox!

M. de Sallenauve. – [Profound silence.] Gentlemen, I do not misjudge my parliamentary value; I know that the persecution directed apparently against me personally is, in point of fact, aimed at the political opinions I have the honor to represent. But, however that may be, my election seems to have been viewed by the ministry as a matter of some importance. In order to oppose it, a special agent and special journalists were sent to Arcis; and a humble employe under government, with a salary of fifteen hundred francs, was dismissed, after twenty years of faithful and honorable service, for having aided in my success. [Loud murmurs from the Centre.] I thank my honorable interrupters, feeling sure that their loud disapprobation is given to this strange dismissal, which is not open to the slightest doubt. [Laughter on the Left.] As for me, gentlemen, who could not be dismissed, I have been attacked with another weapon, – sagacious calumny, combined with my fortunate absence —

The Minister of Public Works. – Of course the government sent you out of the country.

M. de Sallenauve. – No, Monsieur le ministre. I do not attribute my absence to either your influence or your suggestions; it was necessitated by imperious duty, and it had no other instigation or motive. But, as to the part you have really taken in the denunciation set on foot against me, I am about to tell the facts, and the Chamber will consider them. [Close attention.] The law, in order to protect the independence of the deputy, directs that no criminal prosecution can be begun against a member of the national representation without the preliminary consent of the Chamber; this fact has been turned with great adroitness against me. If the complaint had been laid before the magistrates, it could not have been admitted even for an instant; it is simply a bare charge, not supported by evidence of any kind; and I have never heard that the public authorities are in the habit of prosecuting citizens on the mere allegation of the first-comer. We must therefore admire the subtlety of mind which instantly perceived that, by petitioning you for leave to prosecute, all the benefits of the accusation, politically speaking, would be obtained without encountering the difficulty I have mentioned in the courts. [Excitement.] Now, to what able parliamentary tactician must we ascribe the honor of this invention? You know already, gentleman, that it is due ostensibly to a woman, a peasant-woman, one who labors for her living; hence the conclusion is that the peasant-women of Champagne have an intellectual superiority of which, up to this time, neither you nor I were at all aware. [Laughter.] It must be said, however, that before coming to Paris to lodge her complaint, this woman had an interview with the mayor of Arcis, my opponent on the ministerial side in the late election. From this conference she obtained certain lights. To which we must add that the mayor, taking apparently much interest in the charge to be brought against me, agreed to pay the costs, not only of the peasant-woman’s trip to Paris, but also those of the village practitioner by whom she was accompanied. [Left: “Ha! ha!”] This superior woman having arrived in Paris, with whom did she immediately communicate? With the special agent sent down to Arcis by the government to ensure the success of the ministerial candidate. And who drew up the petition to this honorable Chamber for the necessary authority to proceed to a criminal prosecution? Not precisely the special ministerial agent himself, but a barrister under his dictation, and after a breakfast to which the peasant-woman and her adviser were invited in order to furnish the necessary information. [Much excitement. “Hear! hear!”]

The Minister of Public Works from his seat. – Without discussing the truth of these statements, as to which I have personally no knowledge, I affirm upon my honor that the government is completely ignorant of the proceedings now related, which it blames and disavows in the most conclusive manner.

M. de Sallenauve. – After the formal declaration which I have had the good fortune to evoke it would ill become me, gentlemen, to insist on tracing the responsibility for this intrigue back to the government. But what I have already said will seem to you natural when you remember that, as I entered this hall, the minister of Public Works was in the tribune, taking part, in a most unusual manner, in a discussion on discipline wholly outside of his department, and endeavoring to persuade you that I had conducted myself towards this honorable body with a total want of reverence.

The minister of Public Works said a few words which did not reach us. Great disturbance.

M. Victorin Hulot. – M. le president, have the goodness to request the minister of Public Works not to interrupt the speaker. He can answer.

M. de Sallenauve. – According to M. le comte de Rastignac, I showed essential disrespect to the Chamber by asking, in a foreign country, for leave of absence, which it was obvious I had already taken before making my request. But, in his extreme desire to find me to blame, the minister lost sight of the fact that at the time I left France the Chamber had not met, no president existed, and therefore in making my request at that time to the president of this assembly I should simply have addressed a pure abstraction. [Left: “True!”] As for the insufficiency of the motives with which I supported my request, I regret to have to say to the Chamber that I cannot be more explicit even now; because in revealing the true cause of my absence I should betray the secret of an honorable man, and not my own. I did not conceal from myself that by this reticence I exposed my proceedings to mistaken interpretations, – though I certainly did not expect it to give rise to accusations as burlesque as they are odious. [Much excitement.] In point of fact, I was so anxious not to neglect any of the duties of my new position that I did precisely what the minister of Public Works reproaches me for not doing. I selected a man in a most honorable position, who was, like myself, a repository of the secret I am unable to divulge, and I requested him to make all necessary explanations to the president of this Chamber. But, calumny having no doubt worked upon his mind, that honorable person must have thought it compromising to his name and dignity to do me this service. The danger to me being now over, I shall not betray his prudent incognito. Though I was far indeed from expecting this calculating selfishness, which has painfully surprised and wounded me, I shall be careful to keep this betrayal of friendship between myself and his own conscience, which alone shall reproach him for the wrong he has done me.

At this moment a disturbance occurred in the peers’ gallery; a lady had fainted; and several deputies, among them a physician, left the hall hastily. The sitting was momentarily suspended.

The President. – Ushers, open the ventilators. It is want of air that has caused this unfortunate accident. M. de Sallenauve, be good enough to resume your speech.

M. de Sallenauve. – Two words, gentleman, and I have finished. I think the petition to authorize a criminal prosecution has already lost something of its weight in the minds of my least cordial colleagues. But I have here a letter from the Romilly peasant-woman, my relation, duly signed and authenticated, withdrawing her charge and confirming all the explanations I have just had the honor to give you. I might read this letter aloud to you, but I think it more becoming to place it in the hands of M. le president. [“Very good! very good!”] As for my illegal absence, I returned to Paris early this morning, and I could have been in my seat at the opening of the Chamber; but, as M. de Canalis has told you, I had it much at heart not to appear in this hall until I could disperse the cloud which has so strangely appeared around my reputation. It has taken me the whole morning to obtain these papers. And now, gentlemen, you have to decide whether a few hours’ delay in taking his seat in this Chamber justifies you in sending a colleague back to his electors. But after all, whatever is done, whether some persist in thinking me a forger, or a libertine, or merely a negligent deputy, I feel no anxiety about the verdict of my electors. I can confidently assert that after a delay of a few weeks I shall return to you.

Cries on all sides. – The vote! the vote!

On leaving the tribune M. de Sallenauve receives many congratulations.

The President. – I put to vote the admission of M. de Sallenauve as the deputy elected by the arrondissement of Arcis.

Nearly the whole Chamber rises and votes the admission; a few deputies of the Centre alone abstain from taking part in the demonstration.

M. de Sallenauve is admitted and takes the oath.

The President. – The order of the day calls for the reading of the Address to the Throne, but the chairman of the committee appointed to prepare it informs me that the document in question cannot be communicated to the Chamber before to-morrow. Nothing else being named in the order of the day, I declare this sitting adjourned.

The Chamber rose at half-past four o’clock.