France -- Politics and government -- 19th century -- Fiction; French fiction -- Translations into English
Mitral took a cabriolet and went straight to the Saillards and
Baudoyers, who were still playing boston at a late hour. No one was
present but the Abbe Gaudron. Falleix, half-dead with the fatigue of his
journey, had gone to bed.
“You will be appointed, nephew,” said Mitral; “and there’s a surprise in
store for you.”
“What is it?” asked Saillard.
“The cross of the Legion of honor?” cried Mitral.
“God protects those who guard his altars,” said Gaudron.
Thus the Te Deum was sung with equal joy and confidence in both camps.
CHAPTER VIII. FORWARD, MOLLUSKS!
The next day, Wednesday, Monsieur Rabourdin was to transact business
with the minister, for he had filled the late La Billardiere’s place
since the beginning of the latter’s illness. On such days the clerks
came punctually, the servants were specially attentive, there was always
a certain excitement in the offices on these signing-days,--and why,
nobody ever knew. On this occasion the three servants were at their
post, flattering themselves they should get a few fees; for a rumor of
Rabourdin’s nomination had spread through the ministry the night before,
thanks to Dutocq. Uncle Antoine and Laurent had donned their full
uniform, when, at a quarter to eight, des Lupeaulx’s servant came in
with a letter, which he begged Antoine to give secretly to Dutocq,
saying that the general-secretary had ordered him to deliver it without
fail at Monsieur Dutocq’s house by seven o’clock.
“I’m sure I don’t know how it happened,” he said, “but I overslept
myself. I’ve only just waked up, and he’d play the devil’s tattoo on me
if he knew the letter hadn’t gone. I know a famous secret, Antoine; but
don’t say anything about it to the clerks if I tell you; promise? He
would send me off if he knew I had said a single word; he told me so.”
“What’s inside the letter?” asked Antoine, eying it.
“Nothing; I looked this way--see.”
He made the letter gape open, and showed Antoine that there was nothing
but blank paper to be seen.
“This is going to be a great day for you, Laurent,” went on the
secretary’s man. “You are to have a new director. Economy must be the
order of the day, for they are going to unite the two divisions under
one director--you fellows will have to look out!”
“Yes, nine clerks are put on the retired list,” said Dutocq, who came in
at the moment; “how did you hear that?”
Antoine gave him the letter, and he had no sooner opened it than he
rushed headlong downstairs in the direction of the secretary’s office.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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