Civilization, Western -- Fiction; France -- Civilization -- Fiction; Penguins -- Fiction; Satire
About this time the Minister of War happening to visit one day his
Chief of Staff, saw with surprise that the large room where General
Panther worked, which was formerly quite bare, had now along each wall
from floor to ceiling in sets of deep pigeon-holes, triple and
quadruple rows of paper bundles of every as form and colour. These
sudden and monstrous records had in a few days reached the dimensions
of a pile of archives such as it takes centuries to accumulate.
“What is this?” asked the astonished minister.
“Proofs against Pyrot,” answered General Panther with patriotic
satisfaction. “We had not got them when we convicted him, but we have
plenty of them now.”
The door was open, and Greatauk saw coming up the stair-case a long
file of porters who were unloading heavy bales of papers in the hall,
and he saw the lift slowly rising heavily loaded with paper packets.
“What are those others?” said he.
“They are fresh proofs against Pyrot that are now reaching us,” said
Panther. “I have asked for them in every county of Penguinia, in every
Staff Office and in every Court in Europe. I have ordered them in every
town in America and in Australia, and in every factory in Africa, and I
am expecting bales of them from Bremen and a ship-load from Melbourne.”
And Panther turned towards the Minister of War the tranquil and radiant
look of a hero. However, Greatauk, his eye-glass in his eye, was
looking at the formidable pile of papers with less satisfaction than
uneasiness.
“Very good,” said he, “very good! but I am afraid that this Pyrot
business may lose its beautiful simplicity. It was limpid; like a
rock-crystal its value lay in its transparency. You could have searched
it in vain with a magnifying-glass for a straw, a bend, a blot, for the
least fault. When it left my hands it was as pure as the light. Indeed
it was the light. I give you a pearl and you make a mountain out of it.
To tell you the truth I am afraid that by wishing to do too well you
have done less well. Proofs! of course it is good to have proofs, but
perhaps it is better to have none at all. I have already told you,
Panther, there is only one irrefutable proof, the confession of the
guilty person (or if the innocent what matter!). The Pyrot affair, as I
arranged it, left no room for criticism; there was no spot where it
could be touched. It defied assault. It was invulnerable because it was
invisible. Now it gives an enormous handle for discussion. I advise
you, Panther, to use your paper packets with great reserve. I should be
particularly grateful if you would be more sparing of your
communications to journalists. You speak well, but you say too much.
Tell me, Panther, are there any forged documents among these?”
“There are some adapted ones.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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