Kabanata Kabanata 17 · THE FIRST DEPUTY

. THE FIRST DEPUTY

Oh, how this spring of love resembleth

The uncertain glory of an April day,

Which now shows all the beauty of the sun,

And by and by a cloud takes all away.

_Two Gentlemen of Verona._

One evening when the sun was setting, and he was sitting near his love,

at the bottom of the orchard, far from all intruders, he meditated

deeply. "Will such sweet moments" he said to himself "last for ever?"

His soul was engrossed in the difficulty of deciding on a calling. He

lamented that great attack of unhappiness which comes at the end of

childhood and spoils the first years of youth in those who are not rich.

"Ah!" he exclaimed, "was not Napoleon the heaven-sent saviour for young

Frenchmen? Who is to replace him? What will those unfortunate youths

do without him, who, even though they are richer than I am, have only

just the few crowns necessary to procure an education for themselves,

but have not at the age of twenty enough money to buy a man and advance

themselves in their career." "Whatever one does," he added, with a deep

sigh, "this fatal memory will always prevent our being happy."

He suddenly saw Madame de Rênal frown. She assumed a cold and

disdainful air. She thought his way of looking at things typical of a

servant. Brought up as she was with the idea that she was very rich,

she took it for granted that Julien was so also. She loved him a

thousand times more than life and set no store by money.

Julien was far from guessing these ideas, but that frown brought him

back to earth. He had sufficient presence of mind to manipulate his

phrases, and to give the noble lady who was sitting so near him on the

grass seat to understand that the words he had just repeated had been

heard by him during his journey to his friend the wood merchant. It was

the logic of infidels.

"Well, have nothing to do with those people," said Madame de Rênal,

still keeping a little of that icy air which had suddenly succeeded an

expression of the warmest tenderness.

This frown, or rather his remorse for his own imprudence, was the

first check to the illusion which was transporting Julien. He said to

himself, "She is good and sweet, she has a great fancy for me, but she

has been brought up in the enemy's camp. They must be particularly

afraid of that class of men of spirit who, after a good education, have

not enough money to take up a career. What would become of those nobles

if we had an opportunity of fighting them with equal arms. Suppose me,

for example, mayor of Verrières, and as well meaning and honest as M.

de Rênal is at bottom. What short shrift I should make of the vicaire,

M. Valenod and all their jobberies! How justice would triumph in

Verrières. It is not their talents which would stop me. They are always

fumbling about."

That day Julien's happiness almost became permanent. Our hero lacked

the power of daring to be sincere. He ought to have had the courage to

have given battle, and on the spot; Madame de Rênal had been astonished

by Julien's phrase, because the men in her circle kept on repeating

that the return of Robespierre was essentially possible by reason of

those over-educated young persons of the lower classes. Madame de

Rênal's coldness lasted a longish time, and struck Julien as marked.

The reason was that the fear that she had said something in some way or

other disagreeable to him, succeeded her annoyance for his own breach

of taste. This unhappiness was vividly reflected in those features

which looked so pure and so naïve when she was happy and away from

intruders.

Julien no longer dared to surrender himself to his dreams. Growing

calmer and less infatuated, he considered that it was imprudent to go

and see Madame de Rênal in her room. It was better for her to come to

him. If a servant noticed her going about the house, a dozen different

excuses could explain it.

But this arrangement had also its inconveniences. Julien had received

from Fouqué some books, which he, as a theology student would never

have dared to ask for in a bookshop. He only dared to open them at

night. He would often have found it much more convenient not to be

interrupted by a visit, the very waiting for which had even on the

evening before the little scene in the orchard completely destroyed his

mood for reading.

He had Madame de Rênal to thank for understanding books in quite a new

way. He had dared to question her on a number of little things, the

ignorance of which cuts quite short the intellectual progress of any

young man born out of society, however much natural genius one may

choose to ascribe to him.

This education given through sheer love by a woman who was extremely

ignorant, was a piece of luck. Julien managed to get a clear insight

into society such as it is to-day. His mind was not bewildered by the

narration of what it had been once, two thousand years ago, or even

sixty years ago, in the time of Voltaire and Louis XV. The scales fell

from his eyes to his inexpressible joy, and he understood at last what

was going on in Verrières.

In the first place there were the very complicated intrigues which

had been woven for the last two years around the prefect of Besançon.

They were backed up by letters from Paris, written by the cream of

the aristocracy. The scheme was to make M. de Moirod (he was the most

devout man in the district) the first and not the second deputy of the

mayor of Verrières.

He had for a competitor a very rich manufacturer whom it was essential

to push back into the place of second deputy.

Julien understood at last the innuendoes which he had surprised,

when the high society of the locality used to come and dine at M. de

Rênal's. This privileged society was deeply concerned with the choice

of a first deputy, while the rest of the town, and above all, the

Liberals, did not even suspect its possibility. The factor which made

the matter important was that, as everybody knows, the east side of the

main street of Verrières has to be put more than nine feet back since

that street has become a royal route.

Now if M. de Moirod, who had three houses liable to have their frontage

put back, succeeded in becoming first deputy and consequently mayor in

the event of M. de Rênal being elected to the chamber, he would shut

his eyes, and it would be possible to make little imperceptible repairs

in the houses projecting on to the public road, as the result of which

they would last a hundred years. In spite of the great piety and proved

integrity of M. de Moirod, everyone was certain that he would prove

amenable, because he had a great many children. Among the houses liable

to have their frontage put back nine belonged to the cream of Verrières

society.

In Julien's eyes this intrigue was much more important than the history

of the battle of Fontenoy, whose name he now came across for the first

time in one of the books which Fouqué had sent him. There had been

many things which had astonished Julien since the time five years ago

when he had started going to the curé's in the evening. But discretion

and humility of spirit being the primary qualities of a theological

student, it had always been impossible for him to put questions.

One day Madame de Rênal was giving an order to her husband's valet who

was Julien's enemy.

"But, Madame, to-day is the last Friday in the month," the man answered

in a rather strange manner.

"Go," said Madame de Rênal.

"Well," said Julien, "I suppose he's going to go to that corn shop

which was once a church, and has recently been restored to religion,

but what is he going to do there? That's one of the mysteries which I

have never been able to fathom."

"It's a very literary institution, but a very curious one," answered

Madame de Rênal. "Women are not admitted to it. All I know is, that

everybody uses the second person singular. This servant, for instance,

will go and meet M. Valenod there, and the haughty prig will not be

a bit offended at hearing himself addressed by Saint-Jean in that

familiar way, and will answer him in the same way. If you are keen on

knowing what takes place, I will ask M. de Maugiron and M. Valenod

for details. We pay twenty francs for each servant, to prevent their

cutting our throats one fine day."

Time flew. The memory of his mistress's charms distracted Julien from

his black ambition. The necessity of refraining from mentioning gloomy

or intellectual topics since they both belonged to opposing parties,

added, without his suspecting it, to the happiness which he owed her,

and to the dominion which she acquired over him.

On the occasions when the presence of the precocious children reduced

them to speaking the language of cold reason, Julien looking at her

with eyes sparkling with love, would listen with complete docility to

her explanations of the world as it is. Frequently, in the middle of an

account of some cunning piece of jobbery, with reference to a road or

a contract, Madame de Rênal's mind would suddenly wander to the very

point of delirium. Julien found it necessary to scold her. She indulged

when with him in the same intimate gestures which she used with her

own children. The fact was that there were days when she deceived

herself that she loved him like her own child. Had she not repeatedly

to answer his naïve questions about a thousand simple things that a

well-born child of fifteen knows quite well? An instant afterwards

she would admire him like her master. His genius would even go so far

as to frighten her. She thought she should see more clearly every day

the future great man in this young abbé. She saw him Pope; she saw him

first minister like Richelieu. "Shall I live long enough to see you in

your glory?" she said to Julien. "There is room for a great man; church

and state have need of one."