'It is necessary for him to make his way,' said the Marquis, thus lightly alluding to the ruin of the family. 'It was a great trial to us to part with him.'
Then he and his wife in discreet fashion began to deplore the necessities of those degenerate times which prevented sons from growing up in the faith of their parents. They themselves had never set foot in Paris since the fall of Charles X.; and they would not have come there now if it had not been a question of Jules's future. Since their dear boy, with their secret consent, had taken service under the Empire, they had pretended to deny him before the world, but in reality they were continually striving for his advancement.
'We make no pretence with you, Monsieur Rougon,' said the Marquis, in a tone of charming familiarity. 'We love our boy; it is natural we should. You have done a great deal for him already, and we thank you heartily for it. But we want you to do more still. We are friends and fellow-townsmen, are we not?'
Rougon bowed, feeling much moved. The humble demeanour of those old people whom he had seen so majestic when they repaired on Sundays to the church of Saint Marc, seemed to enhance his own importance. He gave them formal promises of help.
As they were going off, after twenty minutes' friendly conversation, the Marchioness took Rougon's hand and held it for a moment within her own. 'Then we may rely upon you, dear Monsieur Rougon?' she said. 'We came from Plassans especially for this purpose. We were beginning to feel a little impatient. At our age you can't wonder at it. Now, however, we shall go back feeling very happy. People told us there that you could no longer do anything.'
Rougon smiled. And with an air of decision that seemed prompted by some secret thoughts of his own, he replied: 'Where there's a will there's a way; rely on me.'
When they had left him, however, a shadow of regret passed over his face. He was still tarrying in the ante-room, when he espied a neatly-dressed man, who, balancing a small round felt hat between his fingers, stood in a respectful attitude in a corner.
'What do you want?' Rougon curtly asked him.
The man, who was very tall and broad-shouldered, lowered his eyes and replied: 'Don't you recognise me, sir?' And as Rougon declared that he did not, the other continued, 'I'm Merle, your old usher at the Council of State.'