From the time of Louis’ arrival, the aspect of everything changed. The workmen felt they now had a superintendent to deal with that was inflexible but just. The overseers alone were inclined to resist his authority. They were sharply reprimanded, and the most mutinous discharged. Mr. Smithson, warned by his previous experience, seconded Louis with all the weight of his authority. He gave him absolute control of the manufactory when he was absent, and never failed to come to his support whenever Louis found severe measures necessary.
All this did not take place, it may well be supposed, without exciting some murmurs and secret rancor. Among the foremost of those most dissatisfied with this necessary rigor was an overseer by the name of Durand, who came to the mill some months before Louis. He was a man of about forty years of age, of lofty stature, a sombre face expressive of energy, and grave and fluent of speech. He came provided with the best recommendations, but it was afterwards learned they were forged. This man succeeded both in intimidating the engineer who preceded Louis, and acquiring his favor. Half through fear, and half weakness, he allowed Durand to assume an authority he abused in many ways. When Louis replaced this weak man so afraid of Durand, there was more than one contest between him and the overseer. Their last altercation had been very violent. Durand insulted the engineer before all the workmen, and in so bold a manner that Mr. Smithson, informed of what had taken place, at once discharged him. Rather than give up his situation, Durand submitted to the humiliation of begging Louis’ pardon. Notwithstanding this, he was merely kept on sufferance, though he was well paid, for he was clever in his way, and in one sense a model overseer: no one kept better discipline.
Astonishing as it may seem, when Louis instituted the evening-school, Durand was the first to offer his assistance, and was appointed monitor. One thing, however, tried Louis: his monitor, always polite and respectful to his face, was in the habit of whispering behind his back, as if secretly conniving with the men. But nothing occurred to justify his suspicions, and Louis at length ceased to attach any importance to the overseer’s strange ways. When the night-school closed, about half-past eight, Durand went away a little before Louis to finish the evening at the St. M—— café, which was greatly frequented by the inhabitants of the place. There he gambled and harangued at his ease, and acquired the reputation of being the ablest talker in the country around. As to his political opinions, they were not positively known. He was suspected of being a demagogue, and even an ultra one, but there was no proof of it. He was less secret about his religious belief. He called himself a Protestant, and a thorough one.
Meanwhile, Albert began to find the life he was leading at his uncle’s wearisome and monotonous. The evenings especially seemed interminable. Mr. Smithson read, Mme. Smithson was absorbed in her tapestry, and Eugénie played on the piano. Albert did not know what to do with himself. He did not dare have recourse to a novel; conversation with his aunt was not very enlivening; and, if he addressed himself to Eugénie, she showed so much skill in embarrassing him on every subject that he avoided the occasion of appearing to so much disadvantage. Besides, Eugénie’s superiority irritated him. Had it not been for her fortune, which he found more and more attractive, and her beauty, to which he could not remain insensible, he would at once have given up all thoughts of marrying her. But her property on the one hand, and her beauty on the other, deterred him. However, with his frivolous mind, he soon found it intolerable to be confined to his cousin’s society every evening, even for the purpose of paying court to her. One night, it suddenly occurred to him to go to the café, and after that he went there regularly after dinner to pass an hour. He was welcomed very cordially, especially by Durand, who at once made every effort to win his favor. The wily overseer was so profuse in respectful attentions that in a few evenings they were friends. Durand, with his uncommon penetration, soon discovered from some indiscreet words Albert dropped what was troubling his shallow mind. He could see he was desirous of marrying his cousin, and so suspicious of Louis that he detested him and asked for nothing better than to see him dismissed. Durand at once resolved to gain Albert’s friendship and profit by it to involve Louis in some inextricable embarrassment. He was determined to have his revenge at whatever cost, but it was necessary to proceed with caution. He began by sounding Albert to make sure of his antipathy to Louis, that he really wished for his dismissal, and if he cared what means were employed provided the end was attained.
Durand gave himself no rest till he was sure of all this—a certitude he acquired the day when Albert, impatient at the unfavorable progress of his affairs, resolved to bring things to a sudden crisis by having Louis dismissed, if possible. The overseer waited till Albert left the café, and then proposed he should accompany him to the manufactory, where he lodged.
“Willingly, my good fellow,” said Albert. It was a fine evening in the month of September. They set off together by the road that ran along the river half-hidden among trees, through which the moon diffused its purest radiance.
“We do not see you any more at the mill,” said Durand. “I daresay I could guess why you have stopped visiting the school.... Would there be any indiscretion in telling you the reason that has occurred to me?”
“Not the least in the world.”
“Well, then, if I am not mistaken, there is some one at the mill not exactly to your liking.... Yes, somebody keeps you away....”
“That may be.”