France -- Politics and government -- 19th century -- Fiction; French fiction -- Translations into English
Bixiou. “Well, I accept the bet,--for this reason; you can hardly
understand it, but I’ll tell it to you all the same. It would be right
and just to appoint Monsieur Rabourdin” [looking full at Dutocq],
“because, in that case, long and faithful service, honor, and talent
would be recognized, appreciated, and properly rewarded. Such an
appointment is in the best interests of the administration.” [Phellion,
Poiret, and Thuillier listen stupidly, with the look of those who try
to peer before them in the darkness.] “Well, it is just because the
promotion would be so fitting, and because the man has such merit,
and because the measure is so eminently wise and equitable that I bet
Rabourdin will not be appointed. Yes, you’ll see, that appointment will
slip up, just like the invasion from Boulogne, and the march to Russia,
for the success of which a great genius has gathered together all the
chances. It will fail as all good and just things do fail in this low
world. I am only backing the devil’s game.”
Du Bruel. “Who do you think will be appointed?”
Bixiou. “The more I think about Baudoyer, the more sure I feel that he
unites all the opposite qualities; therefore I think he will be the next
head of this division.”
Dutocq. “But Monsieur des Lupeaulx, who sent for me to borrow my
Charlet, told me positively that Monsieur Rabourdin was appointed, and
that the little La Billardiere would be made Clerk of the Seals.”
Bixiou. “Appointed, indeed! The appointment can’t be made and signed
under ten days. It will certainly not be known before New-Year’s day.
There he goes now across the courtyard; look at him, and say if the
virtuous Rabourdin looks like a man in the sunshine of favor. I should
say he knows he’s dismissed.” [Fleury rushes to the window.] “Gentlemen,
adieu; I’ll go and tell Monsieur Baudoyer that I hear from you that
Rabourdin is appointed; it will make him furious, the pious creature!
Then I’ll tell him of our wager, to cool him down,--a process we call at
the theatre turning the Wheel of Fortune, don’t we, du Bruel? Why do I
care who gets the place? simply because if Baudoyer does he will make me
under-head-clerk” [goes out].
Poiret. “Everybody says that man is clever, but as for me, I can never
understand a word he says” [goes on copying]. “I listen and listen; I
hear words, but I never get at any meaning; he talks about the environs
of Paris when he discusses the human heart and” [lays down his pen and
goes to the stove] “declares he backs the devil’s game when it is a
question of Russia and Boulogne; now what is there so clever in that,
I’d like to know? We must first admit that the devil plays any game at
all, and then find out what game; possibly dominoes” [blows his nose].
Fleury [interrupting]. “Pere Poiret is blowing his nose; it must be
eleven o’clock.”
Du Bruel. “So it is! Goodness! I’m off to the secretary; he wants to
read the obituary.”
Poiret. “What was I saying?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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