The Lesser Bourgeoisie Part 53

"Not at all," said Thuillier, carelessly. "I've come about that cursed pamphlet. Is there ever any end to your legal bothers? I was summoned here this morning, but I don't regret it, as it gives me the happy chance of meeting you."

"I, too," said la Peyrade, tying up his bundle. "I am very glad to see you, but I must leave you now; I have an appointment, and I suppose you want to do your business at once."

"I have done it," said Thuillier.

"Did you speak to Olivier Vinet, that mortal enemy of yours? he sits in that court," asked la Peyrade.

"No," said Thuillier, naming another official.

"Well, that's queer!" said the barrister; "that fellow must have the gift of ubiquity; he has been all the morning in the fifth court-room, and has just this minute given a judgment on a case I pleaded."

Thuillier colored, and got out of his hobble as best he could. "Oh, hang it!" he said; "those men in gowns are all alike, I don't know one from another."

La Peyrade shrugged his shoulders and said aloud, but as if to himself: "Always the same; crafty, crooked, never straightforward."

"Whom are you talking about?" asked Thuillier, rather nonplussed.

"Why, of you, my dear fellow, who take me for an imbecile, as if I and the whole world didn't know that your pamphlet business came to an end two weeks ago. Why, then, summon you to court?"

"Well, I was sent for," said Thuillier, with embarra.s.sment; "something about registry fees,--it is all Greek to me, I can't comprehend their scrawls."

"And they chose," said la Peyrade, "precisely the very day when the Moniteur, announcing the dissolution of the Chamber, made you think about being a candidate for the 12th arrondiss.e.m.e.nt."

"Why not?" asked Thuillier, "what has my candidacy to do with the fees I owe to the court?"

"I'll tell you," said la Peyrade, dryly. "The court is a thing essentially amiable and complaisant. 'Tiens!' it said to itself, 'here's this good Monsieur Thuillier going to be a candidate for the Chamber; how hampered he'll be by his att.i.tude to his ex-friend Monsieur de la Peyrade, with whom he wishes now he hadn't quarrelled. I'll summon him for fees he doesn't owe; that will bring him to the Palais where la Peyrade comes daily; and in that way he can meet him by chance, and so avoid taking a step which would hurt his self-love."

"Well, there you are mistaken!" cried Thuillier, breaking the ice. "I used so little craft, as you call it, that I've just come from your house, there! and your portress told me where to find you."

"Well done!" said la Peyrade, "I like this frankness; I can get on with men who play above-board. Well, what do you want of me? Have you come to talk about your election? I have already begun to work for it."

"No, really?" said Thuillier, "how?"

"Here," replied la Peyrade, feeling under his gown for his pocket and bringing out a paper, "here's what I scribbled just now in the court-room while the lawyer on the other side rambled on like an expert."

"What is it about?" asked Thuillier.

"Read and you'll see."

The paper read as follows:--

Estimate for a newspaper, small size, at thirty francs a year.

Calculating the editions at 5,000 the costs are:--

Paper, 5 reams at 12 francs . . . . . . . . . . 1,860 francs.

Composition . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2,400 "

Printing . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 450 "

One administrator . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 250 "

One clerk . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 100 "

One editor (also cashier) . . . . . . . . . . . 200 "

One despatcher . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 100 "

Folders . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 120 "

One office boy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 80 "

Office expenses . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 150 "

Rent . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 100 "

License and postage . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7,500 "

Reporting and stenographic news . . . . . . . . 1,800 "

Total monthly, 15,110 "

" yearly, 181,320 "

"Do you want to set up a paper?" asked Thuillier, in dread.

"I?" asked la Peyrade, "I want nothing at all; you are the one to be asked if you want to be a deputy."

"Undoubtedly I do; because, when you urged me to become a munic.i.p.al councillor, you put the idea into my head. But reflect, my dear Theodose, one hundred and eighty one thousand three hundred and twenty francs to put out! Have I a fortune large enough to meet such a demand?"

"Yes," said la Peyrade, "you could very well support that expense, for considering the end you want to obtain there is nothing exorbitant in it. In England they make much greater sacrifices to get a seat in Parliament; but in any case, I beg you to observe that the costs are very high on that estimate, and some could be cut off altogether. For instance, you would not want an administrator. You, yourself, an old accountant, and I, an old journalist, can very well manage the affair between us. Also rent, we needn't count that; you have your old apartment in the rue Saint-Dominique which is not yet leased; that will make a fine newspaper office."

"All that costs off two thousand four hundred francs a year," said Thuillier.

"Well, that's something; but your error consists in calculating on the yearly cost. When do the elections take place?"

"In two months," said Thuillier.

"Very good; two months will cost you thirty thousand francs, even supposing the paper had no subscribers."

"True," said Thuillier, "the expense is certainly less than I thought at first. But does a newspaper really seem to you essential?"

"So essential that without that power in our hands, I won't have anything to do with the election. You don't seem to see, my poor fellow, that in going to live in the other quarter you have lost, electorally speaking, an immense amount of ground. You are no longer the man of the place, and your election could be balked by the cry of what the English call 'absenteeism.' This makes your game very hard to play."

"I admit that," said Thuillier; "but there are so many things wanted besides money,--a name for one thing, a manager, editorial staff, and so forth."

"A name, we have one made to hand; editors, they are you and I and a few young fellows who grow on every bush in Paris. As for the manager, I have a man in view."

"What name is it?" asked Thuillier.

"L'Echo de la Bievre."

"But there is already a paper of that name."

"Precisely, and that's why I give my approval to the affair. Do you think I should be fool enough to advise you to start an entirely new paper? 'Echo de la Bievre!' that t.i.tle is a treasure to a man who wants support for his candidacy in the 12th arrondiss.e.m.e.nt. Say the word only, and I put that treasure into your hands."

"How?" asked Thuillier, with curiosity.