Pride Part 33

"Yes, yes, I am listening."

"That is fortunate. Very well, all the information M. de la Rochaigue has received corroborates what I had already told him. He is firmly convinced that you will attain the position of minister or amba.s.sador sooner or later, but that the time would be greatly hastened by your marriage with Mlle. de Beaumesnil, for men who are immensely rich are preferred for such positions, their wealth being considered a guarantee against all sorts of villainies. The good man is also certain that, if he brings about your marriage with his ward, you will as soon as you rise to power have him made a peer of France, for if persons who are hung could be restored to life, this man would willingly be hung to secure a seat in the Luxembourg. It is an infirmity, a positive mania with him, and you may rest a.s.sured that I have made the most of it."

"If he brings about the marriage, his elevation to the peerage is a.s.sured. He has been president of one of the commissions for years, and I will nominate him at once."

"He hasn't the slightest doubt of it, and, being an old-fashioned sort of a man, he relies upon your promise, and is willing to do anything in his power to further your interests with his ward at once."

"Bravo! and Mlle. de Beaumesnil, what does he say about her? Being so young and so entirely alone in the world, she isn't likely to offer much opposition, so I should think he would feel pretty confident of success."

"He never saw her until last evening, you recollect, but, thanks to a few judicious questions, he fancies he has been able to discover that this young woman is strongly inclined to be ambitious, and that her head would be quite turned by the prospect of marrying a future minister or amba.s.sador, so she could have a crowd of other women under her feet."

"That is truly providential!" cried M. de Mornand, almost beside himself with joy. "And when can I see her?"

"I have an idea about that, but I concluded to say nothing to Rochaigue on the subject until after I had spoken to you."

"Well, well, let us hear the idea!" said M. de Mornand, rubbing his hands, jubilantly.

"In the first place, you must understand that you are not handsome, that you are much too fat, that you have entirely too large an abdomen, and anything but a distinguished air. Pardon my sincerity, it is a friend who speaks."

"That is all right!" responded Mornand, trying hard to conceal the annoyance which his friend's plain speaking caused. "Between friends one can say and hear anything."

"That is an excellent maxim. I will therefore add that you are neither attractive, clever, nor good-tempered, but fortunately you have, or seem to have, a very considerable amount of political tact. You have made a careful study of the best means of corrupting consciences; you were born a corrupter as one is born a singer. Moreover, you are endowed with an eloquence of the continuous flow sort, capable of extinguishing and bewildering the best orators--on the other side. In a drawing-room you are heavy, clumsy, and awkward, like all big men; but in the tribune, with the railing concealing your abdomen, and your chest swelling out majestically under your embroidered coat, you are quite imposing, and can even be said to have some pretensions to good looks."

"Of what earthly use is all this?" retorted Mornand, impatiently; "you know very well that we politicians, we men of mark, care nothing in the world about being considered handsome."

"Oh, that is all nonsense! Don't interrupt me. I was about to say that so much depends upon a first impression that it is by all means advisable that you should appear before Mlle. de Beaumesnil in your most attractive guise, so you may fascinate and magnetise her, so to speak.

Do you understand?"

"That is an excellent idea, but how is it to be managed?"

"You are to make a speech three days hence in the Chamber, are you not?"

"Yes, upon the cod fisheries,--a speech full of dry statistics."

"Ah, well, you must be flowery, poetical, pathetic, pastoral, anything but statistical, and this is an easy matter if you will only confine yourself to one side of the question. You can talk of the fishermen and their interesting families, the surf that breaks in thunder upon the beach, the pale moonlight on the dunes, our gallant navy, and all that kind of stuff."

"But I have considered the question from a purely financial point of view."

"Then tear up that speech and write another, for you must devote all the powers of your eloquence to dazzling the little Beaumesnil."

"What on earth do you mean?"

"Listen to me, innocent! Rochaigue shall be notified, and day after to-morrow the young lady will hear everybody around her saying: 'On Thursday the eloquent M. Mornand, the future minister, is to speak in the House of Peers. All Paris will be there. They are issuing tickets of admission, for when M. de Mornand speaks it is an event!'"

"I understand. You are certainly nothing more or less than a genius, Ravil!" exclaimed M. de Mornand.

"M. de la Rochaigue will naturally inquire if Mlle. de Beaumesnil would not like to attend the session, and we will arrange it so that Rochaigue will amuse the girl with things outside until the time comes for you to ascend the tribune and unloose the fountains of your eloquence. I will then run out and warn the guardian, who will come in with his ward to witness your triumph."

"Admirably planned!"

"And if you can organise a claque from among your colleagues to interlard your speech with exclamations of 'Good! Bravo! Admirable!' our success is a.s.sured."

"The plan is admirable, as I said before. There is but one thing that worries me."

"And what is that?"

"Why, as soon as my speech is ended that fool Montdidier will begin to contradict all I said. He isn't much of a politician, and he is not at all practical, but he's as witty and sarcastic as the devil, and doesn't hesitate to say aloud what other people scarcely dare to think in their most secret hearts. If he should begin that before Mlle. de Beaumesnil--"

"Oh, you need have no fears on that score. As soon as you have finished your speech, and while you are receiving the congratulations of your colleagues, we will exclaim: 'A magnificent effort, truly! He is a Mirabeau, a Fox, a Sheridan, a Canning! It is not worth while to remain any longer. There will be nothing worth listening to after that!' So we will hurry out with the girl, after which Montdidier can ascend the tribune and tear you to pieces and ridicule you as much as he likes. But there is another means which I have not mentioned before,--an effectual means which I have reserved until the last, but which will not only win you the prize, but make it possible for you to retire from political life if you like, and also to tell Rochaigue in so many words that you cannot make him a peer of France, for, thanks to a brilliant idea that has occurred to me, the baron will not only do everything in his power to further your marriage, but you will also have Madame de la Rochaigue and her sister-in-law on your side, though the most we can hope for now is that they will remain neutral."

"Then why do you not employ this means, and at once?"

"I have hazarded a few words, thrown out a few hints, but I have ventured nothing decisive."

"And why not?"

"You see I am not positive that--that you will like it. You might have scruples--and yet the most honest and highly respected men, even kings themselves--"

"Kings themselves? May I be hanged if I have the slightest idea what you are driving at."

"But men are sometimes so absurdly sensitive on the subject."

"Sensitive?"

"Still, one is not responsible for it. Can one fight against nature?"

"Against nature? Really, Ravil, you must be losing your wits. What do you mean by all this?"

"You are fortunate, too, inasmuch as appearances are in your favour. You are stout, you have rather a shrill voice, and scarcely any beard--"

"And what of that?"

"You don't understand me?"

"No."

"And he calls himself a politician?"

"What the devil do you mean by prating about my shrill voice, my spa.r.s.e beard, and my political astuteness?"

"Mornand, you make me doubt your sagacity. Think, what did you say to me only day before yesterday concerning the marriage of the young Queen of Spain?"

"Day before yesterday?"

"Yes, that state secret, you know."

"Hush, hush!"

"Oh, you needn't be afraid,--I shall be as silent as the grave. Do you recollect now?"