Cœlina and Berthe had darted forward, the latter's bright eyes glistening boldly beneath their reddened lids.
"Please do us the honour of coming in, sir," she said.
The candidate, however, surveying her with a quick glance, had at once estimated her at her worth. Still he entered the house, but refused to sit down, remaining standing.
"Here are some of our friends of the council," said Macqueron, who was beginning to recover his equanimity. "They are delighted to make your acquaintance, I'm sure. Are you not, gentlemen?"
Delhomme, Clou, and the others had risen from their seats, thunderstruck by Monsieur Rochefontaine's stiff demeanour. Their feeling of deference became one of the deepest respect, that awe and cringing humility which every manifestation of superior power and authority awoke in them. In the profoundest silence they listened to what the deputy had decided to tell them; the theories which he held in common with the Emperor, and more especially his ideas about national progress, to which he owed the Government's favour, in preference to the former deputy, whose opinions were condemned. Then he began to promise them new roads, railways, and canals; yes, a canal which would traverse La Beauce, and at last slake the thirst which had been parching it up for centuries. The peasants listened to him in stupefaction. What was he talking about? Water through their fields! He went on for some time longer, and then concluded by threatening those who voted wrongly with the severity of the Government and bad seasons. His listeners looked at one another. Here, indeed, was a man who could make them tremble, and whom it would be well to have for a friend.
"Of course, of course!" Macqueron kept repeating after each of the candidate's sentences, though, at the same time, he felt a little uneasy at his stern manner.
Bécu, however, wagged his chin energetically in approval of this military kind of speech; and old Fouan, with his eyes wide open, seemed to be declaring that here, indeed, was a man! Lequeu, who usually preserved such an impassible demeanour, had grown very red, though it was impossible to guess whether he felt pleased or angered. It was only different with those two scamps, Hyacinthe and his friend Canon, whose faces plainly expressed contempt, and who felt so vastly superior to their neighbours that they sniggered and shrugged their shoulders.
As soon as Monsieur Rochefontaine had finished speaking, he turned towards the door. The assessor was overwhelmed with despair.
"What, sir, won't you do us the honour of taking a glass of wine?" he cried.
"No, thank you; I am already very late. They are expecting me at Magnolles, at Bazoches, and at a score of other places. Good day!"