‘Gentlemen, you remember that Pliny the Elder, in the thirteenth book of his “Natural History”’—here arrived Gazan, who came in puffing with his elephantine trot—‘is one of the first writers who mentions counterfeit autographs; amongst others, a false letter of Priam’s on papyrus’—
‘Monsieur Gazan has not signed the list,’ cried Picheral’s sharp falsetto.
‘Oh, I beg your pardon.’ And the fat man went off to sign, still discoursing about papyrus and King Priam, though unheard for the hubbub of angry voices, in which the only word that could be distinguished was ‘Académie.’ They all talked about the Académie as if it were an actual live person, whose real view each man believed himself alone to know and to express. Suddenly the exclamations ceased, as Astier-Réhu entered, signed his name, and quietly deposited at his place as Permanent Secretary the ensign of his office, carried under his arm. Then moving towards his colleagues he said:
‘Gentlemen, I have bad news for you. I sent to the Library to be tested the twelve or fifteen thousand documents which made what I called my collection. Well, gentlemen, all are forgeries. The Académie of Florence stated the truth. I am the victim of a stupendous hoax.’
As he wiped from his brow the great drops of sweat wrung out by the strain of his confession, some one asked in an insolent tone:
‘Well, and so, Mr. Secretary’—
‘So, M. Danjou, I had no other choice but to bring an action—which is what I have done. There was a general protest, all declaring that a lawsuit was out of the question and would bring ridicule upon the whole Society, to which he answered that he was exceedingly sorry to disoblige his colleagues, but his mind was made up. ‘Besides, the man is in prison and the proceedings have commenced.’
Never had the private assembly-room heard a roar like that which greeted this statement. Laniboire distinguished himself as usual among the most excited by shouting that the Académie ought to get rid of so dangerous a member. In the first heat of their anger some of the assembly began to discuss the question aloud. Could it be done? Could the Académie say to a member who had brought the whole body into an undignified position, ‘Go! I reverse my judgment. Deity as you are, I relegate you to the rank of a mere mortal’? Suddenly, either having caught a few words of the discussion, or by one of those strange intuitions which seem occasionally to come as an inspiration to the most hopelessly deaf, old Réhu, who had been keeping to himself, away from the fire for fear of a fit, remarked in his loud unmodulated voice, ‘During the Restoration, for reasons merely political, we turned out eleven members at once.’ The patriarch gave the usual little attesting movement of the head, calling to witness his contemporaries of the period, white busts with vacant eyes standing in rows on pedestals round the room.
‘Eleven! whew!’ muttered Danjou amid a great silence. And Laniboire, cynical as before, said ‘All societies are cowardly; it’s the natural law of self-preservation.’ Here Epinchard, who had been busy near the door with Picheral the Secretary, rejoined the rest, and observed in a weak voice, between two fits of coughing, that the Permanent Secretary was not the only person to blame in the matter, as would appear from the minutes of the proceedings of July 8, 1879, which should now be read. Picheral from his place, in his thin brisk voice, began at a great pace: On July 8, 1879, Léonard-Pierre-Alexandre Astier-Réhu presented to the Académie Française a letter from Rotrou to Cardinal Richelieu respecting the statutes of the Society. The Académie, after an examination of this unpublished and interesting document, passed a vote of thanks to the donor, and decided to enter the letter of Rotrou upon the minutes. The letter is appended (at this point the Secretary slackened his delivery and put a malicious stress upon each word) with all the errors of the original text, which, being such as occur in ordinary correspondence, confirm the authenticity of the document. All stood motionless in the faded light that came through the glass, avoiding each other’s eyes and listening in utter amazement.
‘Shall I read the letter too?’ asked Picheral with a smile. He was much amused.