the nabob-第93章
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le worksTerritorial Bank。〃
He who mumbled thus was a little man in white gaiters； an albino head； and thin hair in scattered locks。 But the interruption of this unfortunate friend only furnished Le Merquier with a rapid and natural transition。 A hideous smile parted his flabby lips。 〃The honourable M。 Sarigue mentions the Territorial Bank。 We shall be able to answer him。〃 He seemed in fact to be very familiar with the Paganetti den。 In a few neat and lively phrases he threw the light on to the depths of the gloomy cave； showed all the traps； the gulfs； the windings； the snares； like a guide waving his torch above the /oubliettes/ of some sinister dungeon。 He spoke of the fictitious quarries； of the railways on paper； of the chimeric liners disappearing in their own steam。 The frightful desert of the Taverna was not forgotten； nor the old Genoese castle； the office of the steamship agency。 But what amused the Chamber most was the story of a swindling ceremony organized by the governor for the piercing of a tunnel through Monte Rotondo； a gigantic undertaking always in project； put off from year to year； demanding millions of money and thousands of workmen； and which was begun in great pomp a week before the election。 His report gave the thing a comic airthe first blow of the pickaxe given by the candidate in the enormous mountain covered by ancient forests； the speech of the Prefect； the benediction of the flags with the cries of 〃Long live Bernard Jansoulet！〃 and the two hundred workmen beginning the task at once； working day and night for a week； then； when the election was over； leaving the fragments of rock heaped round the abandoned excavation for a laughing…stockanother asylum for the terrible banditti。 The game was over。 After having extorted the shareholders' money for so long； the Territorial Bank this time was used as a means to swindle the electors of their votes。 〃Furthermore； gentlemen； another detail； with which perhaps I should have begun and spared you the recital of this electoral pasquinade。 I learn that a judicial inquiry has been opened to…day into the affairs of the Corsican Bank； and that a serious examination of its books will very probably reveal one of those financial scandalstoo frequent； alas！ in our daysand in which； for the honour of the Chamber； we would wish that none of our members were concerned。〃
With this sudden revelation； the speaker stopped a moment； like an actor making his point； and in the heavy silence weighing on the assembly； the noise of a closing door was heard。 It was the Governor Paganetti leaving the tribune； his face white； the eyes wide open； his mouth half opened； like some Pierrot scenting in the air a formidable blow。 Monpavon； motionless； expanded his shirtfront。 The big man puffed violently into the flowers of his wife's little white hat。
Jansoulet's mother looked at her son。
〃I have spoken of the honour of the Chamber； gentlemen。 On that point I have more to say。〃 Now Le Merquier was reading no longer。 After the chairman of the committees； the orator came on the scene； or rather the judge。 His face was expressionless； his eyes hidden； nothing lived； nothing moved in all his body save the right armthe long angular arm with short sleeveswhich rose and fell automatically； like a sword of justice； making at the end of each sentence the cruel and inexorable gesture of beheading。 And truly it was an execution at which they were present。 The orator would leave on one side scandalous legends； the mystery which brooded over this colossal fortune acquired in distant lands； far from all control。 But there were in the life of the candidate certain points difficult to clear up； certain details。 He hesitated； seemed to select his words； then； before the impossibility of formulating a direct accusation： 〃Do not let us lower the debate； gentlemen。 You have understood me。 You know to what infamous stories I alludeto what calumnies； I wish I could say； but truth forces me to state that when M。 Jansoulet called before your committee； was asked to deny the accusations made against him； his explanations were so vague that； though convinced of his innocence； a scrupulous regard for your honour forced us to reject a candidature so besmirched。 No； this man must not sit among you。 Besides； what would he do there？ Living so long in the East； he has unlearned the laws； the manners； and the usages of his country。 He believes in rough and ready justice； in fights in the open street； he relies on the abuses of power； and worse still； on the venality and crouching baseness of all men。 He is the merchant who thinks that everything can be bought at a priceeven the votes of the electors； even the conscience of his colleagues。〃
One should have seen with what naive admiration these fat deputies； enervated with good fortune； listened to this ascetic； this man of another age； like some Saint…Jerome who had left his Thebaid to overwhelm with his vigorous eloquence； in a full assembly of the Roman Empire； the shameless luxury of the prevaricators and of the /concussionaires/。 How well they understood now this grand surname of 〃My conscience〃 which the courts had given him。 In the galleries the enthusiasm rose higher still。 Lovely heads leaned to see him； to drink in his words。 Applause went round； bending the bouquets here and there； like the wind in a wheat…field。 A woman's voice cried with a little foreign accent； 〃Bravo！ Bravo！〃
And the mother？
Standing upright； immovable； concentrated in her desire to understand something of this legal phraseology； of these mysterious allusions； she was there like deaf…mutes who only understand what is said before them by the movement of the lips and the expression of the faces。 But it was enough for her to watch her son and Le Merquier to understand what harm one was doing to the other； what perfidious and poisoned meaning fell from this long discourse on the unfortunate man whom one might have believed asleep； except for the trembling of his strong shoulders and the clinching of his hands in his hair； while hiding his face。 Oh； if she could have said to him： 〃Don't be afraid； my son。 If they all misconstrue you； your mother loves you。 Let us come away together。 What need have we of them？〃 And for one moment she could believe that what she was saying to him thus in her heart he had understood by some mysterious intuition。 He had just raised and shaken his grizzled head； where the childish curve of his lips quivered under a possibility of tears。 But instead of leaving his seat； he spoke from it； his great hands pounded the wood of the desk。 The other had finished； now it was his time to answer：
〃Gentlemen；〃 said he。
He stopped at once； frightened by the sound of his voice； hoarse； frightfully low and vulgar； which he heard for the first time in public。 He must find the words for his defence； tormented as he was by the twitchings of his face； the intonations which he could not express。 And if the anguish of the poor man was touching； the old mother up there； leaning； gasping； moving her lips nervously as if to help him find words； reflected the picture of his torture。 Though he could not see her； intentionally turned away from her gallery； as he evidently was； this maternal inspiration； the ardent magnetism of those black eyes； ended by giving him life； and suddenly his words and gestures flowed freely：
〃First of all； gentlemen； I must say that I do not defend the methods of my election。 If you believe that electoral morals have not been always the same in Corsica； that all the irregularities committed are due to the corrupting influence of my gold and not to the uncultivated and passionate temperament of its people； reject meit will be justice and I will not murmur。 But in this debate other matters have been dealt with； accusations have been made which involve my personal honour； and those； and those alone； I wish to answer。〃 His voice was growing firmer； always broken； veiled； but with some soft cadences。 He spoke rapidly of his life； his first steps； his departure for the East。 It sounded like an eighteenth century tale of the Barbary corsairs sailing the Latin seas； of Beys and of bold Provencals； as sunburned as crickets； who used to end by marryin
