Mme. de Pimentel saw, to her annoyance, that it was idle to expect a mother ambitious for children not yet in existence to further her own private designs of raising M. de Pimentel to a peerage.
“I have the Countess,” Petit-Claud told Cointet when they came away. “I can promise you your partnership. I shall be deputy prosecutor before the month is out, and Séchard will be in your power. Try to find a buyer for my connection; it has come to be the first in Angoulême in my hands during the last five months——”
“Once put you on the horse, and there is no need to do more,” said Cointet, half jealous of his own work.
The causes of Lucien’s triumphant reception in his native town must now be plain to everybody. Louise du Châtelet followed the example of that King of France who left the Duke of Orléans unavenged; she chose to forget the insults received in Paris by Mme. de Bargeton. She would patronize Lucien, and overwhelming him with her patronage, would completely crush him and get rid of him by fair means. Petit-Claud knew the whole tale of the cabals in Paris through town gossip, and shrewdly guessed how a woman must hate the man who would not love when she was fain of his love.
The ovation justified the past of Louise de Nègrepelisse. The next day Petit-Claud appeared at Mme. Séchard’s house, heading a deputation of six young men of the town, all of them Lucien’s schoolfellows. He meant to finish his work, to intoxicate Lucien completely, and to have him in his power. Lucien’s old schoolfellows at the Angoulême grammar-school wished to invite the author of the Marguerites and The Archer of Charles IX. to a banquet given in honor of the great man arisen from their ranks.
“Come, this is your doing, Petit-Claud!” exclaimed Lucien.
“Your return has stirred our conceit,” said Petit-Claud; “we made it a point of honor to get up a subscription, and we will have a tremendous affair for you. The masters and the headmaster will be there, and, at the present rate, we shall, no doubt, have the authorities too.”
“For what day?” asked Lucien.
“Sunday next.”
“That is quite out of the question,” said Lucien. “I cannot accept an invitation for the next ten days, but then I will gladly——”