"Note well that I am not a blusterer or a disturber, isn't that so, Monsieur Ramel? I have always been content with my lot, myself—One receives and executes orders and one is satisfied. Everything goes on all right—My politics at present is my work; when I shall have broken my back to bring journalists into power—I beg your pardon, Monsieur Ramel, you know very well that it is not of you that I speak thus—I shall be no fatter for it, I presume. I only want just to keep life and soul together, if it can be done. I suppose you could not find me a place, Monsieur Ramel? I would do anything, heavy work if need be, or bookkeeping, if it is desired. I would like bookkeeping better, although it is not my line, because the forge fire, the coal and heat, as you see, affect me there now—he touched his neck—it strangles me and hastens the end too quickly. It is true for that I am in the world."
Vaudrey felt himself stirred even to his bones by the mournful, musical voice of the consumptive, by this true misery, this poverty expressed without phrases and this claim of labor. All the questions yonder, as Garnier said, in the committees and sub-committees, in the tribune and in the lobbies, discussions, disputes, personal questions cloaked under the guise of the general welfare, suddenly appeared to him as petty and vain, narrow and egotistical beside the formidable question of bread which was propounded to him so quietly by this man of the people, who was not a rebel of the violent days, but the unfortunate brother, the eternal Lazarus crying, without threat, but simply, sadly: "And I?"
He would have liked, without making himself known, to give something to this sufferer, to promise him a position. He did not dare to offer it or to mention his name. The man would have refused charity and the minister, in all the personnel of bustling employés, often useless, that fill the ministry, had not a single place to give to this workman whose chest was on fire and whose throat was choking.
"I will return and we will talk about him," he said to Ramel, as he arose, indicating Garnier by a nod. "Do not tell him who I am. On my word, I should be ashamed—Poor devil!"
"Multiply him by three or four hundred thousand, and be a statesman," said Ramel.
Vaudrey bowed to the workman, who rose quickly and returned his salute with timid eagerness, and the minister went rapidly down the stairs of the little house and jumped into his carriage, making haste to get away.
He bore with him a feeling akin to remorse, and in all sincerity, for he still heard ringing in his ears, the poor consumptive's voice saying:
"What is it to me, who am suffering, whether Vaudrey or Pichereau be minister?"
On reaching Place Beauvau, he found a despatch requesting his immediate presence at the Élysée. At the Palace he received information that surprised him like a thunderbolt. Monsieur Collard—of Nantes—had just been struck down by apoplexy in the corridors of the ministry. The President of the Council was dead and the Chief of the State had turned to Vaudrey to fill the high position which, but two hours before, had been held by Monsieur Collard.
President of the Council! He, Vaudrey! Head of the Ministry! The first in his country after the supreme head? The joyful surprise that such a proposition caused him, so occupied his mind that he was unable to feel very much moved by the loss of Monsieur Collard—of Nantes—. Sulpice, moreover, had never profoundly cared for this austere advocate, although he had been much associated with him. His liking for this man who brought to the Council old-time opinions and preconceived ideas was a merely political affection. The President's offer proved to him that his own popularity, as well as his influence over parliament, had only increased since his recent entry on public life. He was then about to be in a position to assert his individuality still better. What a glorious time for Grenoble and what wry faces Granet would make!