Complete Works of Emile Zola (1630 page)

Very long debates of great interest had been expected, but there were none. Laboque had selected one of those provincial lawyers whose reputation for rascality make them the terror of a whole region. The happiest moments for Luc’s enemies were during this man’s pleading, for, perceiving clearly, as he did, the slenderness of the legal claim upon which the demand for damages rested, he confined himself to ridiculing the attempted reforms at La Crêcherie. He created a great deal of amusement by drawing a comic and malignant picture of the social relations of the future. He excited burning indignation on all sides by demonstrating that the unrestricted intercourse of children of both sexes from infancy would lead to the abolition of the holy institution of marriage. Nevertheless, the general feeling was that he had not touched the real injury, nor had he made the supreme argument, and struck the overwhelming blow which gains a case and annihilates the defendant. The general uneasiness, therefore, became so great that when Luc began to speak in his turn his first words were received with murmurs. He spoke very simply, and, without taking the smallest notice of the attacks upon his work, he contented himself with showing, in a convincing manner, that Laboque had based his demand on insufficient foundations. Had not he, Luc, rendered a service to Beauclair by draining the pestiferous Clouque, and thereby improving the sanitary condition of the town, while, at the same time, he made it a present of good land for building purposes? The fact that the improvements at La Crêcherie were responsible for the disappearance of the stream was not yet proved, and he had a right to expect that positive evidence of this should be produced. A trace of the bitterness in his sore heart escaped him in his conclusion, when he said that he looked for no gratitude from any one for the services that he believed himself to have rendered to the town. He considered that he should be only too happy if he were allowed to pursue his own work in peace, without having malicious quarrels forced upon him. Judge Gaume had been obliged several times to impose silence on the audience; and after the public prosecutor had spoken in an intentionally confused manner, by means of which he mixed up right and wrong, the reply of Laboque’s lawyer was so violent, and he called forth such acclamations by treating Luc as an anarchist who meditated the destruction of the town, that the judge was obliged to threaten the audience with expulsion from the hall if such demonstrations were renewed. Then he postponed his decision for a fortnight.

A fortnight later passions were still at fever-heat, and people disputed in the market-place as to the form of the decision.. Opinion was almost unanimous as to a severe condemnation, with ten to fifteen thousand francs’ damages, exclusive of consequences; that is, of the obligation to restore the Clouque to its former condition. There were certain people, however, who shook their heads, and were sure of nothing, not having been satisfied with the attitude of Judge Gaume during the arguments. They spoke of him as eccentric, and even went so far as to doubt whether his mind was altogether sound, since he seemed so gloomy, and his administration of justice was scrupulous to a morbid degree. Another thing which caused uneasiness was the manner in which he closed his house to visitors the day after the case was heard, under the pretext of indisposition; yet it was said that he was perfectly well, and that his only motive was to escape all outside pressure by receiving no one, so that no influence could interfere with his legal conscience. What did he do in the recesses of that solitary house, where all the doors and windows were closed, and which his daughter herself did not enter? What moral struggle, what internal combat, was he undergoing, at the close of a life already shipwrecked as regarded all that he had loved and all that he had believed in?

The decision of the court was to be given at noon. At the opening of the sitting, the court-room was even more crowded, more excited, and more turbulent than before. It resounded with laughter, and expressions of expectation and animosity were shouted from one end of it to the other. All Luc’s enemies were present, in order to witness his downfall. He, himself, as courageous as before, had refused to allow any one to accompany him, preferring to present himself alone, the better to express his mission of peace. As he sat upright, he looked around the court-room, and smiled, apparently unconscious that all this anger was vented upon him. Exactly at the hour Judge Gaume made his appearance, followed by two associate justices and the state’s attorney. The clerk had no need to enforce silence, for all voices were suddenly hushed, and all the expectant faces shone with anxious curiosity. The judge seated himself, and then arose, with his written decision in his hand. For a moment he remained silent and immovable, with his eyes looking far away, beyond the limits of the crowd. Then, in a slow, expressionless voice, he began his reading. This lasted a long time, for the phrase “inasmuch as” recurred with monotonous regularity, as he considered the question under all its different aspects, constraining himself to give due weight to the most trivial details. The arguments for and against followed one upon another so closely that the audience listened without fully understanding what was meant, and was wholly unable to foresee the conclusion. At each advance, however, it became more apparent to the initiated that Luc’s defence, that is to say, the absence of actual injury sustained, and the right of every property owner to establish improvements on his own property, when under no restrictions to the contrary, was admitted. The conclusion confirmed all this, for Luc was acquitted.

There was a moment of stupefaction in the court-room. Then, when the nature of the verdict was understood, silence was succeeded by howls and violent cries for vengeance. The over-excited crowd, fed for months upon lies, now saw its promised victim snatched away, at the last moment, before its eyes; and believing, as it did, that the law which had acquitted him had been bought and sold, it sought to lay hands upon him in order to tear him to pieces. Was not Luc a public enemy, a stranger, come from no one knew where, on purpose to corrupt Beauclair, to ruin trade, and to incite civil war by instigating workmen against their employers? Had he not, through a scheme of diabolical wickedness, stolen water from the town by drying up a stream, the disappearance of which was a disaster to the dwellers on the banks of the river. Such accusations as these were repeated by the
Journal de Beauclair
every week, and by dint of repetition even the dullest minds comprehended them, together with their venomous commentaries, and the demands for immediate vengeance which accompanied them. Even more, people of importance in the
bourgeois
quarter not only transmitted these reports to the more insignificant members of the community, but developed them further, and imparted to them the weight of their own position and influence. And the lowest classes, thus instructed and thus blinded, were convinced that nothing but evil could issue from La Crêcherie, and became filled with a thirst for blood, which caused them to demand Luc’s life. The outcries of “To death with him! The robber and murderer, to death with him!” redoubled. Judge Gaume at first remained standing in the midst of the tumult. He attempted to speak, and to cause the court-room to be cleared; but he was soon forced to abandon any idea of making himself heard. He confined himself, therefore, to adjourning the court, and retired quietly and with dignity, followed by the associate justices and the public prosecutor.

Luc, still smiling, remained calmly in his seat. The decision of the court had surprised him quite as much as it did his adversaries, for he was fully cognizant of the vicious atmosphere in which the judge lived, and had believed him incapable of justice. It was at least a comfort to find an upright man amid so much human weakness. But when the cries for his life made themselves heard, Luc’s smile became very sad, and he turned towards the howling mob with his heart full of bitterness. What had he done to all these petty
bourgeois,
these tradespeople and working-men? Had he not wished for the good of them all? Had he not labored that they all should be happy, and that they should love one another and live in unity? Yet they threatened him with their fists and deafened him with violent cries of “To death with him! The thief, the murderer, to death with him!” These poor, ignorant people, bewildered and maddened by lies, occasioned him the deepest distress, all the more because of the tenderness which he retained for them in spite of himself. But he suppressed all traces of feeling, for he wished to appear brave and steadfast, and to bear himself proudly under insult. The mob, believing itself set at defiance by his behavior, would have ended by breaking down the oaken barrier, if the guards had not succeeded in driving them out and closing the doors. The clerk, sent by Judge Gaume, came to beg Luc not to go out at once, for fear of possible violence, and Luc was obliged to promise that he would wait a few minutes in the room of the
concierge
of the court until the crowd should be dispersed.

This necessity aroused in Luc a feeling of shame; it was revolting to him to be forced to hide himself. He passed the most painful quarter of an hour of his existence in the
concierge’s
room, feeling himself a coward for not going straight out into the crowd, and utterly failing to accommodate himself to the uneasy situation which the sins of others had created for him. As soon as the various approaches to the court-house seemed to be clear, he would listen to no further remonstrances, and insisted on setting forth and returning home quietly on foot, without being accompanied by any one. He had come alone, and he would return alone. He had nothing in his hand but a slender cane, and he regretted having brought even this, for fear that he should be suspected of doing so for self-defence. He was obliged to pass through the whole of Beauclair, and he began to walk slowly through the streets, without any one observing him until he reached the Place de la Mairie. The mob, when it issued from the courthouse, had only waited a few minutes, and then, feeling certain that Luc would not come out for some hours, separated in order to spread the news of his acquittal over the entire town. When Luc reached the Place de la Mairie, however, where the market was held, he was recognized. He was pointed out by gestures, described in words, and some persons went so far as to follow him, without, as yet, any bad intentions, but simply for the purpose of seeing what would happen. The people whom he met there were only peasants, shoppers, and idlers who were not actually engaged in the quarrel. The situation, therefore, did not begin to look serious until the moment when he emerged into the Rue de Brias, at the corner of which stood Laboque, in front of his own shop, raging like a lion let loose, furious at his own defeat, and declaiming on his wrongs in the midst of a cluster of people.

All the tradesmen and petty venders of the neighborhood had collected around Laboque’s shop as soon as they heard of the new disaster. So it was true, then, that the law had decided in favor of La Crêcherie, and that it was going to complete their ruin by means of co-operative stores. Caffiaux, who seemed stunned, preserved silence, and was apparently revolving thoughts too big for utterance. Dacheux, the butcher, however, purple with rage, was very violent, and declared himself ready to protect the sacred meat of the rich; he even spoke of killing every one rather than lower his price a single
centime
. Madame Mitaine did not agree with him; she had never been in favor of the lawsuit, and she declared honestly that she intended to sell her bread for whatever she could get for it, and then she should see what happened. Laboque, beside himself with rage, was recounting to some new arrival, and for the tenth time, the abominable treason of Judge Gaume, when he perceived Luc, who was passing tranquilly before the hardware-store whose ruin he had compassed. This audacity completed the desperation of Laboque, who rushed forward to throw himself upon Luc, with the cry, half-stifled by the weight of his own hatred, “To death with the thief and murderer! To death with him!” When Luc was in front of the shop, he deliberately turned his head, without stopping, and for a moment his calm, brave glance rested on the tumultuous group, whence issued the stormy invectives of Laboque. Then the whole crowd, believing itself insulted, raised a general clamor, which increased and grew more threatening, like the blast of a tempest: “To death with him! To death with the thief and murderer! To death with him!” Luc continued his walk as quietly as if he were not concerned, looking neither to the right nor to the left, and preserving the air of a passer-by who is interested in a street scene. Nearly all the crowd began to follow him, redoubling their howls, insults, and threats, still shouting, furiously: “To death with him! To death with the thief and murderer! To death with him!”

All this uproar continued, and increased in fury as he proceeded along the pavement of the Rue de Brias. From every doorway fresh additions poured forth to join the mob. Women appeared on their thresholds, hooting as Luc passed. Some of them even, more exasperated than the rest, rushed out, and cried with the men: “To death with him! To death with the thief and murderer! To death with him!” Luc saw a young and beautiful woman, the wife of a fruit merchant, who hissed insults through her dazzling white teeth, and threatened him from a distance with her rosy nails, as though she would tear him in pieces. Even the little children followed in the throng, and there was one of them, not more than five or six years old, and no taller than a boot, who screamed himself hoarse, and even ran between the victim’s legs, in order to make himself more distinctly heard when he shouted:
“
To death with him! To death with the thief and murderer! To death with him!” Poor little boy! Who had taught him thus early this outcry of hate? The tumult became worse than ever when the crowd passed the shops at the top of the street. The workwomen in Gourier’s shoe-factory appeared at the windows, shook their fists, and howled. It was the same thing with the workmen at the factories of Chordorge and Miranda, who were smoking on the pavement while waiting for the bell for returning to work, and who, in their dulness of comprehension, added their voices to the uproar. One little, thin, red-haired man, in particular, with uneasy eyes, acted as though he were demented, running to and fro, and shouting more violently than all the others: “To death with him! To death with the thief and murderer! To death with him!”