For a Night of Love (9 page)

‘Signed and sealed, madame.’

And he withdrew, displeased with himself. How had he managed to succumb to the stupid desire to convince that woman? She was very beautiful, it was better that there should be nothing in common between them since she might prove a nuisance in his life.

Ten years had elapsed. One morning, Nantas found himself in the study where Baron Danvilliers had once given him such a rough reception, on their first meeting. Now this study was his; the Baron, after making peace with his daughter and his son-in-law, had handed the house over to them, just keeping for himself a lodge at the other end of the garden, on the rue de Beaune. In ten years, Nantas had ended up winning one of the highest financial and industrial positions. Involved in all the big railway concerns, launched on all the land speculations that were such a feature of the first years of the Second Empire, he had rapidly made a huge fortune. But his ambition did not end there, he wanted to play a role in public life, and
he had managed to get himself appointed deputy, in a part of the country where he owned several farms. No sooner had he entered the Legislative Body than he had set himself up as a future finance minister. Through his extraordinary knowledge and his fluency in public speaking, he was daily assuming a greater and greater importance. Furthermore, he astutely showed an absolute devotion to the Empire, whilst holding in financial matters his own personal theories, which caused quite a stir and which he knew greatly preoccupied the Emperor.

That morning, Nantas was up to his neck in work. The huge offices he had set up on the ground floor of the house were filled with tremendous activity. It was a world of employees, some motionless behind their counters, others constantly coming and going, slamming the doors behind them; there was a continual clink of gold, open bags
disgorging
their contents across the tables, the ceaseless chiming of a cash register which seemed to threaten to drown the streets in the flood of its coins. Then, in the antechamber, there was a jostling throng of supplicants, businessmen, and politicians, all Paris on its knees before his power. Often, great personages would wait there patiently for an hour. And he, sitting at his desk, in touch with the provinces and foreign countries, able with his extended arms to embrace the whole world, was finally realising his old dream of strength, feeling himself to be the intelligent motor of a colossal machine able to move kingdoms and empires.

Nantas rang for the usher who acted as his doorkeeper. He seemed worried.

‘Germain,’ he asked, ‘do you know if madame has
returned
?’

And, as the usher replied that he didn’t know, he ordered
him to ask madame’s maid to come down. But Germain stayed put.

‘Excuse me, monsieur,’ he murmured, ‘the President of the Legislative Body is here and he insists on seeing you.’

Then Nantas made a gesture of irritation, saying, ‘Very well, show him in, and do what I ordered.’

The day before, on a crucial question relating to the budget, a speech by Nantas had created such an impression that the article under debate had been committed for amendment in the way he had asked. After the session, the rumour had spread that the finance minister was on the verge of
resignation
, and different groups were already designating the young deputy as his successor. He just shrugged: nothing had been done, he had merely had a meeting with the Emperor on a few special points. However, the visit of the President of the Legislative Body could well be significant. He seemed to shake off the preoccupation that clouded his thoughts, stood up and went over to shake the president’s hand.

‘Ah, Monsieur le Duc,’ he said, ‘I must ask you to excuse me. I didn’t know you were here… I am really touched, believe me, by the honour you are doing me.’

For a few minutes they made casual conversation, in cordial tones. Then, the president, without saying anything definite, gave him to understand that he was sent by the Emperor to sound him out. Would he accept the finance portfolio, and what would his programme be? He, then, with superb
calmness
, laid down his conditions. But, behind his impassive expression, a shout of triumph was rising. At last he was climbing the topmost rung, he had reached the pinnacle. One step more and all eyes would be looking up to him. As the president was drawing to a close, saying that he was on his way that minute to see the Emperor to let him have the programme
under discussion, a little door giving access to the living quarters opened, and madame’s maid appeared.

Nantas, suddenly turning ashen again, did not complete the sentence he was uttering. He went swiftly over to this woman, murmuring, ‘Excuse me, Monsieur le Duc…’

And, in a low voice, he cross-questioned her. So, had madame left early? Had she said where she was going? When would she back? The maid answered vaguely, like an intelligent girl unwilling to compromise herself. Having realised the naivety of his interrogations he ended up saying simply, ‘As soon as madame returns, tell her I wish to speak to her.’

The president, surprised, had moved over to a window and was looking down into the courtyard. Nantas came over to him, apologising again. But he had lost his calm: he stammered, astonishing the president by the clumsiness of his words.

‘Well, I’ve gone and spoilt my chances,’ he could not help saying once the president had gone. ‘That’s one portfolio I’m not going to get.’

And he remained in a state of disquiet, occasionally flaring up into anger. Several persons were shown in. An engineer had a report to present, announcing enormous profits in a mining concern. A diplomat discussed with him a loan that a neighbouring power wanted to arrange in Paris. Various lackeys filed past in succession, reporting on twenty
substantial
pieces of business. Finally, he received a large number of his colleagues from the Chamber of Deputies; they all heaped exaggerated praise on the speech he had made the day before. Leaning back in his armchair, he accepted this flattery, without a smile. The clinking of gold could still be heard from the offices next door, a vibration like that of a factory made the walls shake, as if all this jingling gold were being manufactured
there. He merely had to pick up a pen to send dispatches whose arrival would have overjoyed or dismayed the markets of Europe; he could prevent or precipitate war, by supporting or opposing the loan he had been told about; he even held the budget of France in his grasp, he would soon know if he would be for or against the Empire. This was his moment of triumph, his hypertrophied personality was turning into the pivot around which a whole world rotated. And yet he could not enjoy this triumph in the way he had promised himself he would. He was overcome by weariness, his mind was elsewhere, jumping at the slightest noise. Whenever a flame – the feverish sign of satisfied ambition – rose to his cheeks, he would suddenly feel himself growing pale, as if, from behind, a cold hand had abruptly touched the nape of his neck.

Two hours had gone by, and Flavie had still not appeared. Nantas summoned Germain and told him to find M.
Danvilliers
, if the Baron was at home. Once he was alone again, he walked up and down in his study, refusing to see anyone else that day. Little by little, his agitation had grown. It was clear that his wife was meeting someone. She must have renewed her relations with M. des Fondettes, who had been a widower for six months. Of course, Nantas refused to fall prey to jealousy; for ten years, he had strictly observed the treaty he had concluded; nonetheless, he intended, he said, not to seem ridiculous. Never would he allow his wife to compromise his position, making him the butt of everyone’s mockery. And his strength was abandoning him, while those feelings of a husband who simply wants to be treated with respect overwhelmed him with such disturbing power that he had never experienced anything like it, even when venturing on his most daring gambles in the early days of his fortune.

Flavie came in, still in her town outfit; she had merely taken
off her hat and gloves. Nantas, his voice trembling, told her he would have gone up to her room, if she had let him know she was back. But without sitting down, and looking as pressed for time as a client, she gestured him to get on with it.

‘Madame,’ he began, ‘it has become necessary for us to have a talk… Where did you go this morning?’

The quaver in her husband’s voice, and the brutality of his question, took her completely by surprise.

‘I went,’ she replied coldly, ‘exactly where I pleased.’

‘Precisely, and that’s just what I cannot agree to any more,’ he continued, turning very pale. ‘You have to remember what I told you, I will never tolerate your using the freedom I am granting you in such a way as to dishonour my name.’

Flavie smiled with sovereign contempt.

‘Dishonour your name, monsieur? but that’s your business, it’s a task which has already been accomplished.’

Then, Nantas, driven out of his mind, bore down on her as if he wanted to hit her, stammering, ‘Wretched woman, you are coming from the arms of Monsieur des Fondettes… You have a lover, I know it.’

‘You’re wrong,’ she said without recoiling from his threatening posture, ‘I’ve never seen Monsieur des Fondettes again… But even if I did have a lover, that would be no reason for you to reproach me. What difference would it make to you? You’re forgetting our agreement, it seems.’

He looked at her for a few moments, wild-eyed; then, shaken with sobs, putting into his cry all the passion he had kept bottled up for so long, he collapsed at her feet.

‘Oh Flavie, I love you!’

She, standing erect, pulled away, as he had touched the hem of her dress. But the unhappy man dragged himself after her on his knees, his hands held out.

‘I love you, Flavie, I love you like a madman… It just happened, I don’t know how. It started years ago. And little by little it has completely vanquished me. Oh I’ve struggled, I felt this passion was unworthy of me, I remembered our first meeting… But today, I am suffering too much, I have to talk to you…’

He carried on like this for a long time. All his beliefs had broken down. This man who had placed his faith in strength, who maintained that will-power is the only lever capable of moving the world, was reduced to nothing, weak as a child, disarmed before a woman. And now that his dreams of fortune were realised, his high position achieved, he would have given anything for this woman to lift him to his feet and plant a kiss on his brow. She was ruining his moment of triumph. He was deaf, now, to the chime of gold in his offices, he spared not a thought for the parade of courtiers who had just been to pay him homage, he forgot that the Emperor, at this very moment, was perhaps summoning him to high office. These things did not exist. He had everything, and all he wanted was Flavie. If Flavie refused to give herself, he had nothing.

‘Listen,’ he continued, ‘what I did, I did for you… To begin with, it’s true, you didn’t count, I worked to satisfy my pride. Later, you became the sole object of all my thoughts, all my efforts. I told myself I had to rise as high as possible so as to deserve you. I hoped to make you change your mind the day I placed my power at your feet. See where I am today. Haven’t I earned your forgiveness? Don’t despise me any longer, I beg of you!’

She had not yet spoken a word. She said calmly, ‘Stand up, monsieur, someone might come in.’

He refused, continuing to implore her. Perhaps he would have waited longer, if he hadn’t been jealous of M. des
Fondettes. This was a source of torment, driving him mad. Then, he took a very humble tack.

‘I can easily see that you still despise me. All right, wait, don’t give your love to anyone. I promise you such great things that I’ll succeed in making you change your mind. You must forgive me if I was brutal just now. I feel I’m losing my head… Oh, let me hope you’ll love me one day!’

‘Never!’ she said resolutely.

And, as he lay there on the ground, crushed, she tried to leave. But he, beside himself, overcome with rage, leapt up and seized her by the wrists. As if a woman could defy him like this, when the whole world was at his feet! He could do anything, topple entire states, lead France as he wished – and to think he couldn’t win his wife’s love! He, so strong, so powerful, he whose least wishes were others’ commands, had only one desire left, and this desire would never be fulfilled, because this creature, as weak as a child, refused! He gripped her by the arms, repeating hoarsely:

‘I want… I want –’

‘And I don’t want,’ Flavie was saying, all white and
stiff-necked
in her pride.

They were still struggling when Baron Danvilliers opened the door. Seeing him, Nantas let go of Flavie and exclaimed, ‘Monsieur, here is your daughter, fresh from her lover’s arms… Tell her a wife must respect her husband’s name, even if she doesn’t love him and the thought of her own honour isn’t enough to stop her.’

The Baron, who had aged considerably, stood on the threshold surveying this violent scene. It came as a painful surprise to him. He thought the household was harmonious, and admired the ceremonious relations between husband and wife, thinking they were simply keeping up the proprieties.
His son-in-law and he came from two different generations; but even if his susceptibilities were hurt by the financier’s somewhat unscrupulous activities, and he was critical of certain ventures which he described as reckless, he had had to recognise the strength of his will and his lively intelligence. And now, all at once, he was stumbling into this drama of which he had no inkling.

When Nantas accused Flavie of having a lover, the Baron, who still treated his married daughter with the strictness he had shown her at the age of ten, stepped forward with all the solemnity of his age.

‘I swear to you that she has just been with her lover,’ Nantas repeated, ‘and you can see how she stands there and defies me!’

Flavie, disdainfully, was looking away. She smoothed down her cuffs, which her husband’s brutality had ruffled. Not a blush had come to her cheeks. But her father turned to address her.