The republic:—For one man to day who will sacrifice everything for the public welfare, there are thousands and millions who think of nothing except their enjoyments and their vanity. One is requested in Paris by reason of the qualities not of one’s self but of one’s carriage.
—NAPOLEON, Memorial.
The footman rushed in saying “Monsieur the duke de ——”
“Hold your tongue, you are just a fool,” said the duke as he entered. He spoke these words so well, and with so much majesty, that Julien could not help thinking this great person’s accomplishments were limited to the science of snubbing a lackey. Julien raised his eyes and immediately lowered them. He had so fully appreciated the significance of the new arrival that he feared that his look might be an indiscretion.
The duke was a man of fifty dressed like a dandy and with a jerky walk. He had a narrow head with a large nose and a face that jutted forward; it would have been difficult to have looked at the same time more insignificant. His arrival was the signal for the opening of the meeting.
Julien was sharply interrupted in his physiognomical observations by de la Mole’s voice. “I present to you M. the abbé Sorel,” said the Marquis. “He is gifted with an astonishing memory; it is scarcely an hour ago since I spoke to him of the mission by which he might be honoured, and he has learned the first page of the Quotidienne by heart in order to give proof of his memory.”
“Ah! foreign news of that poor N—” said the master of the house. He took up the paper eagerly and looked at Julien in a manner rendered humorous by its own self-importance. “Speak, monsieur,” he said to him.
The silence was profound, all eyes were fixed on Julien. He recited so well that the duke said at the end of twenty lines, “That is enough.” The little man who looked like a boar sat down. He was the president, for he had scarcely taken his place before he showed Julien a card-table and signed to him to bring it near him. Julien established himself at it with writing materials. He counted twelve persons seated round the green table cloth.
“M. Sorel,” said the Duke, “retire into next room, you will be called.”
The master of the house began to look very anxious. “The shutters are not shut,” he said to his neighbour in a semi-whisper. “It is no good looking out of the window,” he stupidly cried to Julien—“so here I am more or less mixed up in a conspiracy,” thought the latter. “Fortunately it is not one of those which lead to the Place-de-Grève. Even though there were danger, I owe this and even more to the marquis, and should be glad to be given the chance of making up for all the sorrow which my madness may one day occasion him.”