Then he checked himself, and, gradually becoming calmer, assumed an air of great dignity. Seeing that Madame Bouchard had begun to tremble, he made her sit down again while he himself remained erect, lecturing her severely. It was a real sermon that he preached to her. He told her that she was offending against all laws, both human and divine; that she was standing on the brink of a precipice, and preparing for herself an old age full of remorse. Then, fancying that he could detect a faint smile hovering round the corners of her lips, he proceeded to draw a picture of the old age he predicted, when her beauty would be in ruins, her heart for ever empty, and her brow flushed with shame beneath her white hair. And afterwards he discussed her conduct from a social point of view, in this respect showing much severity, and he went on to rail at modern licentiousness, at the disgraceful dissoluteness of the times. Then he spoke of himself. He was the guardian of the laws, he said, and could never abuse his power by lending himself to the encouragement of vice. Without virtue it seemed to him that government was impossible. Finally, he concluded by defying his enemies to name a single act of nepotism in his administration, a single favour granted by him that, was due to intrigue.
Pretty Madame Bouchard listened with downcast head, huddling herself up in her chair and letting her delicate neck show from under the ribbons of her pink bonnet. When Rougon had at last finished speaking, she rose and made her way to the door, without saying a word. But as she laid her fingers upon the handle, she raised her head and began to smile again. 'He is named Georges Duchesne,' she murmured. 'He is principal clerk in my husband's division, and wants to be assistant——'
'No, no!' cried Rougon.
Then she slowly left the room, casting a long contemptuous glance at the minister, who came back from the door with an expression of weariness on his face. He had beckoned to Merle to follow him. The door remained ajar.
'The editor of the Vœu National, whom your excellency sent for, has just arrived,' said the usher in a low tone.
'Very good,' replied Rougon; 'but I'll see the officials who have been waiting so long first.'
Just at that moment, however, a valet appeared at the door which led to the minister's private apartments, and announced that déjeuner was ready, and that Madame Delestang was waiting for his excellency in the drawing room.
At this Rougon stepped forward. 'Tell them to serve at once,' he replied briskly. 'So much the worse for the gentlemen; I will see them afterwards. I'm frightfully hungry.'
Then he just popped his head through the doorway and gave a glance round the ante-room, which was still full. Not a functionary or a petitioner had moved. The three prefects were still talking together in their corner. The two ladies by the table were leaning upon their finger-tips, as if a little weary. The same people sat motionless and silent in the red velvet chairs along the walls. Then Rougon left his room, giving Merle orders to detain the prefect of the Somme and the editor of the Vœu National.
Madame Rougon, who was not very well, had left on the previous evening for the South of France, where she was going to stay for a month. She had an uncle living in the neighbourhood of Pau. On the other hand, Delestang had been in Italy for the last six weeks, on an important mission connected with agriculture. And thus it came about that the minister had invited Clorinde, who wanted to have a long talk with him, to partake of déjeuner at his official residence.