The Lesser Bourgeoisie by Honore de Balzac (best ereader for graphic novels TXT) 📕

property, because you must prove possession for one year."

"The devil!" cried Thuillier; "between now and a year hence to be

taxed five hundred francs on property which--"

"Between now and the end of July, at the latest, you must pay that

tax. Well, I feel enough interest in you to tell you the secret of an

affair by which you might make from thirty to forty thousand francs a

year, by employing a capital of one hundred and fifty thousand at

most. I know that in your family it is your sister who does your

business; I am far from thinking that a mistake; she has, they tell

me, excellent judgment; and you must let me begin by obtaining her

good-will and friendship, and proposing this investment to her. And

this is why: If Mademoiselle Thuillier is not induced to put faith in

my plan, we shall certainly have difficulty with her. Besides, it

won't do for YOU to propose to her that she should put the investment

of her money in your name. The idea had better come from me. As to my

means of getting you elected to the municipal council, they are these:

Phellion controls one quarter of the arrondissement; he and Laudigeois

have lived in it these thirty years, and they are listened to like

oracles. I have a friend who controls another quarter; and the rector

of Saint-Jacques, who is not without influence, thanks to his virtues,

disposes of certain votes. Dutocq, in his close relation to the

people, and also the justice of peace, will help me, above all, as I'm

not acting for myself; and Colleville, as secretary of the mayor's

office, can certainly manage to obtain another fourth of the votes."

"You are right!" cried Thuillier. "I'm elected!"

"Do you think so?" said la Peyrade, in a voice of the deepest sarcasm.

"Very good! then go and ask your friend Colleville to help you, and

see what he'll say. No triumph in election cases is ever brought about

by the candidate himself, but by his friends. He should never ask

anything himself for himself; he must be invited to accept, and appear

to be without ambition."

"La Peyrade!" cried Thuillier, rising, and taking the hand of the

young lawyer, "you are a very capable man."

"Not as capable as you, but I have my merits," said the Provencal,

smiling.

"If we succeed how shall I ever repay you?" asked Thuillier, naively.

"Ah! that, indeed! I am afraid you will think me impertinent, but

remember, there is a true feeling in my heart which offers some excuse

for me; in fact, it has given me the spirit to undertake this affair.

I love--and I take you for my confidant."

"But who is it?" said Thuillier.

"Your dear little Celeste," replied la Peyrade. "My love for her

will be a pledge to you of my devotion. What would I not do for a

_father-in-law_! This is pure selfishness; I shall be working for

myself."

"Hush!" cried Thuillier.

"Eh, my friend!" said la Peyrade, catching Thuillier round the body;

"if I hadn't Flavie on my side, and if I didn't know _all_ should I

venture to be talking to you thus? But please say nothing to Flavie

about this; wait till she speaks to you. Listen to me; I'm of the

metal that makes ministers; I do not seek to obtain Celeste until I

deserve her. You shall not be asked to give her to me until the day

when your election as a deputy of Paris is assured. In order to be

deputy of Paris, we must get the better of Minard; and in order to

crush Minard you must keep in your own hands all your means of

influence; for that reason use Celeste as a hope; we'll play them off,

these people, against each other and fool them all--Madame Colleville

and you and I will be persons of importance one of these days. Don't

think me mercenary. I want Celeste without a 'dot,' with nothing more

than her future expectations. To live in your family with you, to keep

my wife in your midst, that is my desire. You see now that I have no

hidden thoughts. As for you, my dear friend, six months after your

election to the municipal council, you will have the cross of the

Legion of honor, and when you are deputy you will be made an officer

of it. As for your speeches in the Chamber--well! we'll write them

together. Perhaps it would be desirable for you to write a book,--a

serious book on matters half moral and philanthropic, half political;

such, for instance, as charitable institutions considered from the

highest stand-point; or reforms in the pawning system, the abuses of

which are really frightful. Let us fasten some slight distinction to

your name; it will help you,--especially in the arrondissement. Now, I

say again, trust me, believe in me; do not think of taking me into

your family until you have the ribbon in your buttonhole on the morrow

of the day when you take your seat in the Chamber. I'll do more than

that, however; I'll put you in the way of making forty thousand francs

a year."

"For any one of those three things you shall have our Celeste," said

Thuillier.

"Ah! what a pearl she is!" exclaimed la Peyrade, raising his eyes to

heaven. "I have the weakness to pray to God for her every day. She is

charming; she is exactly like you--oh! nonsense; surely you needn't

caution me! Dutocq told me all. Well, I'll be with you to-night. I

must go to the Phellions' now, and begin to work our plan. You don't

need me to caution you not to let it be known that you are thinking of

me for Celeste; if you do, you'll cut off my arms and legs. Therefore,

silence! even to Flavie. Wait till she speaks to you herself. Phellion

shall to-night broach the matter of proposing you as candidate for the

council."

"To-night?" said Thuillier.

"Yes, to-night," replied la Peyrade, "unless I don't find him at home

now."

Thuillier departed, saying to himself:--

"That's a very superior man; we shall always understand each other.

Faith! it might be hard to do better for Celeste. They will live with

us, as in our own family, and that's a good deal! Yes, he's a fine

fellow, a sound man."

To minds of Thuillier's calibre, a secondary consideration often

assumes the importance of a principal reason. Theodose had behaved to

him with charming bonhomie. 

The house to which Theodose de la Peyrade now bent his steps had been

the "hoc erat in votis" of Monsieur Phellion for twenty years; it was

the house of the Phellions, just as much as Cerizet's frogged coat was

the necessary complement of his personality.

This dwelling was stuck against the side of a large house, but only to

the depth of one room (about twenty feet or so), and terminated at

each end in a sort of pavilion with one window. Its chief charm was a

garden, one hundred and eighty feet square, longer than the facade of

the house by the width of a courtyard which opened on the street, and

a little clump of lindens. Beyond the second pavilion, the courtyard

had, between itself and the street, an iron railing, in the centre of

which was a little gate opening in the middle.

This building, of rouge stone covered with stucco, and two storeys in

height, had received a coat of yellow-wash; the blinds were painted

green, and so were the shutters on the lower storey. The kitchen

occupied the ground-floor of the pavilion on the courtyard, and the

cook, a stout, strong girl, protected by two enormous dogs, performed

the functions of portress. The facade, composed of five windows, and

the two pavilions, which projected nine feet, were in the style

Phellion. Above the door the master of the house had inserted a tablet

of white marble, on which, in letters of gold, were read the words,

"Aurea mediocritas." Above the sun-dial, affixed to one panel of the

facade, he had also caused to be inscribed this sapient maxim: "Umbra

mea vita, sic!"

The former window-sills had recently been superceded by sills of red

Languedoc marble, found in a marble shop. At the bottom of the garden

could be seen a colored statue, intended to lead casual observers to

imagine that a nurse was carrying a child. The ground-floor of the

house contained only the salon and the dining-room, separated from

each other by the well of the staircase and the landing, which formed

a sort of antechamber. At the end of the salon, in the other pavilion,

was a little study occupied by Phellion.

On the first upper floor were the rooms of the father and mother and

that of the young professor. Above were the chambers of the children

and the servants; for Phellion, on consideration of his own age and

that of his wife, had set up a male domestic, aged fifteen, his son

having by that time entered upon his duties of tuition. To right, on

entering the courtyard, were little offices where wood was stored, and

where the former proprietor had lodged a porter. The Phellions were no

doubt awaiting the marriage of their son to allow themselves that

additional luxury.

This property, on which the Phellions had long had their eye, cost

them eighteen thousand francs in 1831. The house was separated from

the courtyard by a balustrade with a base of freestone and a coping of

tiles; this little wall, which was breast-high, was lined with a hedge

of Bengal roses, in the middle of which opened a wooden gate opposite

and leading to the large gates on the street. Those who know the

cul-de-sac of the Feuillantines, will understand that the Phellion

house, standing at right angles to the street, had a southern exposure,

and was protected on the north by the immense wall of the adjoining

house, against which the smaller structure was built. The cupola of the

Pantheon and that of the Val-de-Grace looked from there like two

giants, and so diminished the sky space that, walking in the garden,

one felt cramped and oppressed. No place could be more silent than

this blind street.

Such was the retreat of the great unknown citizen who was now tasting

the sweets of repose, after discharging his duty to the nation in the

ministry of finance, from which he had retired as registration clerk

after a service of thirty-six years. In 1832 he had led his battalion

of the National Guard to the attack on Saint-Merri, but his neighbors

had previously seen tears in his eyes at the thought of being obliged

to fire on misguided Frenchmen. The affair was already decided by the

time his legion crossed the pont Notre-Dame at a quick step, after

debouching by the flower-market. This noble hesitation won him the

respect of his whole quarter, but he lost the decoration of the Legion

of honor; his colonel told him in a loud voice that, under arms, there

was no such thing as deliberation,--a saying of Louis-Philippe to the

National Guard of Metz. Nevertheless, the bourgeois virtues of

Phellion, and the great respect in which he was held in his own

quarter had kept him major of the battalion for eight years. He was

now nearly sixty, and seeing the moment coming when he must lay off

the sword and stock, he hoped that the king would deign to reward his

services by granting him at last the Legion of honor.

Truth compels us to say, in spite of the stain this pettiness will put

upon so fine a character, that Commander Phellion rose upon the tips

of his toes at the receptions in the Tuileries, and did all that he

could to put himself forward, even eyeing the citizen-king perpetually

when he dined at his table. In short, he intrigued in a dumb sort of

way; but had never yet obtained a look in return from the king of his

choice. The worthy man had more than once thought, but was not yet

decided, to beg Monsieur