the nabob-第68章

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tunnel　through　Monte　Rotondo；　a　gigantic　undertaking　always　in　project；　put　off　from　year　to　year；　demanding　millions　of　money　and　thousands　of　workmen；　and　which　was　begun　in　great　pomp　a　week　before　the　election。　His　report　gave　the　thing　a　comic　airthe　first　blow　of　the　pickaxe　given　by　the　candidate　in　the　enormous　mountain　covered　by　ancient　forests；　the　speech　of　the　Prefect；　the　benediction　of　the　flags　with　the　cries　of　〃Long　live　Bernard　Jansoulet！〃　and　the　two　hundred　workmen　beginning　the　task　at　once；　working　day　and　night　for　a　week；　then；　when　the　election　was　over；　leaving　the　fragments　of　rock　heaped　round　the　abandoned　excavation　for　a　laughing…stockanother　asylum　for　the　terrible　banditti。　The　game　was　over。　After　having　extorted　the　shareholders'　money　for　so　long；　the　Territorial　Bank　this　time　was　used　as　a　means　to　swindle　the　electors　of　their　votes。　〃Furthermore；　gentlemen；　another　detail；　with　which　perhaps　I　should　have　begun　and　spared　you　the　recital　of　this　electoral　pasquinade。　I　learn　that　a　judicial　inquiry　has　been　opened　to…day　into　the　affairs　of　the　Corsican　Bank；　and　that　a　serious　examination　of　its　books　will　very　probably　reveal　one　of　those　financial　scandalstoo　frequent；　alas！　in　our　daysand　in　which；　for　the　honour　of　the　Chamber；　we　would　wish　that　none　of　our　members　were　concerned。〃

With　this　sudden　revelation；　the　speaker　stopped　a　moment；　like　an　actor　making　his　point；　and　in　the　heavy　silence　weighing　on　the　assembly；　the　noise　of　a　closing　door　was　heard。　It　was　the　Governor　Paganetti　leaving　the　tribune；　his　face　white；　the　eyes　wide　open；　his　mouth　half　opened；　like　some　Pierrot　scenting　in　the　air　a　formidable　blow。　Monpavon；　motionless；　expanded　his　shirtfront。　The　big　man　puffed　violently　into　the　flowers　of　his　wife's　little　white　hat。

Jansoulet's　mother　looked　at　her　son。

〃I　have　spoken　of　the　honour　of　the　Chamber；　gentlemen。　On　that　point　I　have　more　to　say。〃　Now　Le　Merquier　was　reading　no　longer。　After　the　chairman　of　the　committees；　the　orator　came　on　the　scene；　or　rather　the　judge。　His　face　was　expressionless；　his　eyes　hidden；　nothing　lived；　nothing　moved　in　all　his　body　save　the　right　armthe　long　angular　arm　with　short　sleeveswhich　rose　and　fell　automatically；　like　a　sword　of　justice；　making　at　the　end　of　each　sentence　the　cruel　and　inexorable　gesture　of　beheading。　And　truly　it　was　an　execution　at　which　they　were　present。　The　orator　would　leave　on　one　side　scandalous　legends；　the　mystery　which　brooded　over　this　colossal　fortune　acquired　in　distant　lands；　far　from　all　control。　But　there　were　in　the　life　of　the　candidate　certain　points　difficult　to　clear　up；　certain　details。　He　hesitated；　seemed　to　select　his　words；　then；　before　the　impossibility　of　formulating　a　direct　accusation：　〃Do　not　let　us　lower　the　debate；　gentlemen。　You　have　understood　me。　You　know　to　what　infamous　stories　I　alludeto　what　calumnies；　I　wish　I　could　say；　but　truth　forces　me　to　state　that　when　M。　Jansoulet　called　before　your　committee；　was　asked　to　deny　the　accusations　made　against　him；　his　explanations　were　so　vague　that；　though　convinced　of　his　innocence；　a　scrupulous　regard　for　your　honour　forced　us　to　reject　a　candidature　so　besmirched。　No；　this　man　must　not　sit　among　you。　Besides；　what　would　he　do　there？　Living　so　long　in　the　East；　he　has　unlearned　the　laws；　the　manners；　and　the　usages　of　his　country。　He　believes　in　rough　and　ready　justice；　in　fights　in　the　open　street；　he　relies　on　the　abuses　of　power；　and　worse　still；　on　the　venality　and　crouching　baseness　of　all　men。　He　is　the　merchant　who　thinks　that　everything　can　be　bought　at　a　priceeven　the　votes　of　the　electors；　even　the　conscience　of　his　colleagues。〃

One　should　have　seen　with　what　naive　admiration　these　fat　deputies；　enervated　with　good　fortune；　listened　to　this　ascetic；　this　man　of　another　age；　like　some　Saint…Jerome　who　had　left　his　Thebaid　to　overwhelm　with　his　vigorous　eloquence；　in　a　full　assembly　of　the　Roman　Empire；　the　shameless　luxury　of　the　prevaricators　and　of　the　/concussionaires/。　How　well　they　understood　now　this　grand　surname　of　〃My　conscience〃　which　the　courts　had　given　him。　In　the　galleries　the　enthusiasm　rose　higher　still。　Lovely　heads　leaned　to　see　him；　to　drink　in　his　words。　Applause　went　round；　bending　the　bouquets　here　and　there；　like　the　wind　in　a　wheat…field。　A　woman's　voice　cried　with　a　little　foreign　accent；　〃Bravo！　Bravo！〃

And　the　mother？

Standing　upright；　immovable；　concentrated　in　her　desire　to　understand　something　of　this　legal　phraseology；　of　these　mysterious　allusions；　she　was　there　like　deaf…mutes　who　only　understand　what　is　said　before　them　by　the　movement　of　the　lips　and　the　expression　of　the　faces。　But　it　was　enough　for　her　to　watch　her　son　and　Le　Merquier　to　understand　what　harm　one　was　doing　to　the　other；　what　perfidious　and　poisoned　meaning　fell　from　this　long　discourse　on　the　unfortunate　man　whom　one　might　have　believed　asleep；　except　for　the　trembling　of　his　strong　shoulders　and　the　clinching　of　his　hands　in　his　hair；　while　hiding　his　face。　Oh；　if　she　could　have　said　to　him：　〃Don't　be　afraid；　my　son。　If　they　all　misconstrue　you；　your　mother　loves　you。　Let　us　come　away　together。　What　need　have　we　of　them？〃　And　for　one　moment　she　could　believe　that　what　she　was　saying　to　him　thus　in　her　heart　he　had　understood　by　some　mysterious　intuition。　He　had　just　raised　and　shaken　his　grizzled　head；　where　the　childish　curve　of　his　lips　quivered　under　a　possibility　of　tears。　But　instead　of　leaving　his　seat；　he　spoke　from　it；　his　great　hands　pounded　the　wood　of　the　desk。　The　other　had　finished；　now　it　was　his　time　to　answer：

〃Gentlemen；〃　said　he。

He　stopped　at　once；　frightened　by　the　sound　of　his　voice；　hoarse；　frightfully　low　and　vulgar；　which　he　heard　for　the　first　time　in　public。　He　must　find　the　words　for　his　defence；　tormented　as　he　was　by　the　twitchings　of　his　face；　the　intonations　which　he　could　not　express。　And　if　the　anguish　of　the　poor　man　was　touching；　the　old　mother　up　there；　leaning；　gasping；　moving　her　lips　nervously　as　if　to　help　him　find　words；　reflected　the　picture　of　his　torture。　Though　he　could　not　see　her；　intentionally　turned　away　from　her　gallery；　as　he　evidently　was；　this　maternal　inspiration；　the　ardent　magnetism　of　those　black　eyes；　ended　by　giving　him　life；　and　suddenly　his　words　and　gestures　flowed　freely：

〃First　of　all；　gentlemen；　I　must　say　that　I　do　not　defend　the　methods　of　my　election。　If　you　believe　that　electoral　morals　have　not　been　always　the　same　in　Corsica；　that　all　the　irregularities　committed　are　due　to　the　corrupting　influence　of　my　gold　and　not　to　the　uncultivated　and　passionate　temperament　of　its　people；　reject　meit　will　be　justice　and　I　will　not　murmur。　But　in　this　debate　other　matters　have　been　dealt　with；　accusations　have　been　made　which　involve　my　personal　honour；　and　those；　and　those　alone；　I　wish　to　answer。〃　His　voice　was　growing　firmer；　always　broken；　veiled；　but　with　some　soft　cadences。　He　spoke　rapidly　of　his　life；　his　first　steps；　his　departure　for　the　East。　It　sounded　like　an　eighteenth　century　tale　of　the　Barbary　corsairs　sailing　the　Latin　seas；　of　Beys　and　of　bold　Provencals；　as　sunburned　as　crickets；　who　used　to　end　by　marrying　some　sultana　and　〃taking　the　turban；〃　in　the　old　expression　of　the　Marseillais。　〃As　for　me；〃　said　the　Nabob；　with　his　good…humoured　smile。　〃I　had　no　need　of　taking　the　turban　to　grow　rich。　I　had　only　to　take　into　this　land　of　idleness　the　activity　and　flexibility　of　a　southern　Frenchman；　and　in　a　few　years　I　made　one　of　those　fortunes　which　can　only　be　made　in　those　hot　countries；　where　everything　is　gigantic；　prodigious；　disproportionate；　where　flowers　grow　in　a　night；　and　one　tree　produces　a　forest。　The　excuse　of　such　fortunes　is　the　manner　in　which　they　are　used；　and　I　make　bold　to　say　that　never　has　any　favourite　of　fortune　tried　harder　to　justify　his　wealth。　I　have　not　been　successful。〃　No！　he　had　not　succeeded。　From　all　the　gold　he　had　scattered　he　had　only　gathered　contempt　and　hatred。　Hatred！　Who　could　boast　more　of　it　than　he？　like　a　great　ship　in　the　dock　when　its　keel　touches　the　bottom。　He　was　too　rich；　and　that　stood　for　every　vice；　and　every　crime　pointed　him　out　for　anonymous　vengeances；　cruel　and　incessant　enmities。

〃Ah；　gentlemen；〃　cried　the　poor　Nabob；　lifting　his　clinched　hands；　〃I　have　known　poverty；　I　have　struggled　face　to　face　with　it；　and　it　is　a　dreadful　struggle；　I　swear。　But　to　struggle　against　wealth；　to　defend　one's　happiness；　honourrestto　have　no　shelter　but　piles　of　gold　which　fall　and　crush　you；　is　something　more　hideous；　more　heart…　breaking　still。　Never；　in　the　darkest　days　of　my　distress；　have　I　had　the　pains；　the　anguish；　the　sleepless　nights　with　which　fortune　has　loaded　methis　horrible　fortune　which　I　hate　and　which　stifles　me。　They　call　me　the　Nabob；　in　Paris。　It　is　not　the　Nabob　they　should　say；　but　the　Pariaha　social　pariah　holding　out　wide　arms　to　a　society　which　will　have　none　of　him。〃

Written　down；　the　words　may　appear　cold；　but　there；　before　the　assembly；　the　defence　of　this　man　was　stamped　with　an　eloquent　and　grandiose　sincerity；　which　at　first；　coming　from　this　rustic；　this　upstart；　without　culture　or　education；　with　the　voice　of　a　boatman；　first　astonished　and　then　singularly　moved　his　hearers　just　on　account　of　its　wild；　uncultivated　style；　foreign　to　every　notion　of　parliamentary　etiquette。　Already　marks　of　favour　had　agitated　members；　used　to　the　flood　of　gray　and　monotonous　administrative　speech。　But　at　this　cry　of　rage　and　despair　against　wealth；　uttered　by　the　wretch　whom　it　was　enfolding；　rolling；　drowning　in　its　floods　of　gold；　while　he　was　struggling　and　calling　for　help　from　the　depths　of　his　Pactolus；　the　whole　Chamber　rose　with　loud　applause；　and　outstretched　hands；　as　if　to　give　the　unfortunate　Nabob　more　testimonies　of　esteem；　of　which　he　was　so　desirous；　and　at　the　same　time　to　save　him　from　shipwreck。　Jansoulet　felt　it；　and　warmed　by　this　sympathy；　he　went　on；　with　head　erect　and　confident　look：

〃You　have　just　been　told；　gentlemen；　that　I　was　unworthy　of　sitting　among　you。　And　he　who　said　it　was　the　last　from　whom　I　should　have　expected　it；　for　he　alone　knew　the　sad　secret　of　my　life；　he　alone　could　speak　for　me；　justify　me；　and　convince　you。　He　has　not　done　it。　Well；　I　will　try；　whatever　it　may　cost　me。　Outrageously　calumniated　before　my　country；　I　owe　it　to　myself　and　my　children　this　public　justification；　and　I　will　make　it。〃

With　a　brusque　movement　he　turned　towards　the　tribune　where　he　knew　his　enemy　was　watching　him；　and　suddenly　stopped；　full　of　fear。　There；　in　front　of　him；　behind　the　pale；　malignant　head　of　the　baroness；　his　mother；　his　mother　whom　he　believed　to　be　two　hundred　leagues　away　from　the　terrible　storm；　was　looking　at　him；　leaning　against　the　wall；　bending　down　her　saintly　face；　flooded　with　tears；　but　proud　and　beaming　nevertheless　with　her　Bernard's　great　success。　For　it　was　really　a　success　of　sincere　human　emotion；　which　a　few　more　words　would　change　into　a　triumph。　Cries　of　〃Go　on；　go　on！〃　came　from　all　sides　of　the　Chamber　to　reassure　and　encourage　him。　But　Jansoulet　did　not　speak。　He　had　only　to　say：　〃Calumny　has　wilfully　confused　two　names。　I　am　called　Bernard　Jansoulet；　the　other　Jansoulet　Louis。〃　Not　a　word　more