Monsieur Panneton de La Barge’s reply was that he defended the army. He represented it as misunderstood, persecuted and menaced, and in rising tones he continued:
“This campaign in favour of the Traitor, obstinate and enthusiastic as it is, whatever may be the intentions of its leaders, has a certain visible and undeniable effect. It weakens the army and injures its chiefs.”
“I am going to tell you some very simple facts,” replied Monsieur Bergeret. “If the army is attacked in the person of certain of its chiefs, that is not the fault of those who have asked for justice; it is the fault of those who have so long refused it. It is not the fault of those who demanded an explanation, but of those who have obstinately avoided one with extraordinary stupidity and abominable wickedness. After all, if crimes have been committed the evil is not that they have been made known but that they have been committed. They have concealed themselves in all their enormity and in all their deformity. They were not recognizable; they passed over the crowds like dark clouds. Did you imagine they would never burst? Did you think the sun would never shine again upon the classic land of Justice, upon the country that taught the Law to Europe and the world?”
“Don’t let us speak of the Affair,” replied Monsieur de La Barge. “I know nothing of it. I wish to know nothing. I did not read a word of the Inquiry. Commandant de La Barge, my cousin, assured me that Dreyfus was guilty. That affirmation was enough for me. I came, dear Monsieur Bergeret, to ask your advice about my son Adhémar, whose prospects in life are now engaging my attention. A year of military service is a long time for a young fellow of good family. Three years would be nothing short of disaster. It is essential to find a means of exemption. I had thought of letting him take his degree in literature, but I’m afraid it is too difficult. Adhémar is intelligent, but he has no taste for literature.”
“Well,” said Monsieur Bergeret, “try the School of Higher Commercial Studies; or the Commercial Institute, or the School of Commerce. I do not know if the Watchmakers’ College at Cluses would still furnish means of exemption. It used not to be difficult, I’ve been told, to obtain the certificate.”
“But Adhémar cannot very well make watches,” replied Monsieur de La Barge with a certain modesty.
“Then try the School of Oriental Languages,” said Monsieur Bergeret obligingly. “It was an excellent institution to begin with.”
“It has gone down since,” sighed Monsieur de La Barge.
“It still has its good points. What about Tamil, for instance?”
“Tamil, do you think?”