Nearly all the invited guests came except those we desired to compromise.The invitations having been sent at short notice, it was amusing to read the notes and letters of excuse, which Sallenauve ordered to be brought to him in the salon as they arrived.As he opened each he took care to say: "This is from Monsieur the sub-prefect; this from the procureur-du-roi; this from Monsieur Vinet the substitute, expressing regret that they cannot accept the invitation." All these concerted refusals were received with smiles and whispers by the company; but when a letter arrived from Beauvisage, and Sallenauve read aloud the "impossibility in which he found himself to correspond to his politeness," the hilarity grew noisy and general, and was only stopped by the entrance of Monsieur Martener, examining judge, who performed an act of courage in coming to the dinner which his colleagues declined.We must remark, however, than an examining-judge has two sides to him.On that of the judge he is irremovable; he can only be deprived of the slight increase of salary he receives as an examiner and of the privilege of signing warrants and questioning thieves,--splendid rights of which the chancellor can mulct him by a stroke of his pen.But allowing that Monsieur Martener was only semi-brave, he was greeted on this occasion as a full moon.
The Duc de Maufrigneuse, d'Arthez, and Monseigneur the bishop, who was staying at Cinq-Cygne for a few days, were all present, and this made more noticeable the absence of one man, namely, Grevin, whose excuse, sent earlier in the day, was not read to the company.The non-appearance of the Comte de Gondreville was explained by the recent death of his grandson, Charles Keller; and in sending the invitation Sallenauve had been careful to let him know he should understand a refusal.But that Grevin, the count's right arm, should absent himself, seemed to show that he and his patron were convinced of the probable election of Beauvisage, and would have no intercourse with the new candidate.
The dinner being given in honor of Saint-Ursula's installation, which could not be celebrated by a banquet in the convent, Sallenauve had a fine opportunity for the following toast:--"To the Mother of the poor; the noble and saintly spirit which, for fifty years, has shone on Champagne, and to which we owe the vast number of distinguished and accomplished women who adorn this beautiful region of our country."If you know, as I do, madame, what a forlorn, beggarly region Champagne is, you would say, or something like it, that Sallenauve is a rascally fellow, and that the passion to enter the legislature makes a man capable of shocking deceit.Was it worth while, in fact, for a man who usually respects himself to boldly tell a lie of criminal dimensions, when a moment later a little unforeseen circumstance occurred which did more than all the speeches ever uttered to commend him to the sympathy of the electors?
You told me, madame, that your son Armand found a strong likeness to the portraits of Danton in our friend Sallenauve; and it seems that the boy's remark was true, for several persons present who had known the great revolutionist during his lifetime made the same observation.
Laurent Goussard, who, as I told you in a former letter, was Danton's friend, was also, in a way, his brother-in-law; for Danton, who was something of a gallant, had been on close terms for several years with the miller's sister.Well, the likeness must be striking, for after dinner, while we were taking our coffee, the worthy Goussard, whose head was a little warmed by the fumes of wine, came up to Sallenauve and asked him whether he was certain he had made no mistake about his father, and could honestly declare that Danton had nothing to do with his ******.
Sallenauve took the matter gaily, and answered arithmetically,--"Danton died April 5, 1794.To be his son, I must have been born no later than January, 1795, which would make me forty-four years old to-day.But the register of my birth, and I somewhat hope my face, make me out exactly thirty.""Yes, you are right," said Laurent Goussard; "figures demolish my idea; but no matter,--we'll vote for you all the same."I think the man is right; this chance resemblance is likely to have great weight in the election.You must remember, madame, that, in spite of the fatal facts which cling about his memory, Danton is not an object of horror and execration in Arcis, where he was born and brought up.In the first place time has purged him; his grand character and powerful intellect remain, and the people are proud of their compatriot.In Arcis they talk of Danton as in Marseilles they talk of Cannebiere.Fortunate, therefore, is our candidate's likeness to this demigod, the worship of whom is not confined to the town, but extends to the surrounding country.
These voters extra muros are sometimes curiously ******-minded, and obvious contradictions trouble them not at all.Some agents sent into the adjacent districts have used this fancied resemblance; and as in a rural propaganda the object is less to strike fair than to strike hard, Laurent Goussard's version, apocryphal as it is, is hawked about the country villages with a coolness that admits of no contradiction.
While this pretended revolutionary origin is advancing our friend's prospects in one direction, in another the tale put forth to the worthy voters whom it is desirable to entice is different, but truer and not less striking to the minds of the country-people.This is the gentlemen, they are told, who has bought the chateau of Arcis; and as the chateau of Arcis stands high above the town and is known to all the country round, it is to these ****** folk a species of symbol.
They are always ready to return to memories of the past, which is much less dead and buried than people suppose; "Ah! he's the seigneur of the chateau," they say.
This, madame, is how the electoral kitchen is carried on and the way in which a deputy is cooked.