“Nothing whatever; it is simply this distressing situation that makes me anxious. Now that you have spoken to Cardez, uncle, what is it the workmen want?”
“Oh, several things! In the first place, less work and more pay. Afterwards, themselves to nominate their own overseer. To have personal administration of the pension and assistance funds. To submit to no stoppage of wages for insurance against accidents. Mon Dieu! On all these points some understanding may be reached, and I am quite disposed to meet them half way. But there is on the point of being formulated a final demand which may render all conciliation impossible.”
“What is that!”
“They will demand the dismissal of Cardez, who is accused by the workmen of being extremely severe in enforcing the regulations.”
“Dismiss the director? To-morrow they will want to send us away also.”
“Ah, my nephew, is not that the collectivist doctrine, pure and simple? The works to the workers, the land to the tillers—that is to say, the dispossession of the master and the landlord. We are advancing in that direction.”
Marcel said coldly—
“We cannot give way on these points. Abdicate all authority, be no longer master in one’s own house? At no price and under no pretext. Be kind to the workmen, certainly! But be their dupe, never!”
“Come,” said Uncle Graff, with a smile, “do not get excited. You always go to extremes. Yesterday all fire and flame; this morning full of reactionary energy. You must keep to the golden mean as I do. I still have hopes of seeing the triumph of reason and common sense. But I should like to obtain one thing from you.”
“What is that?”