Jacques the Fatalist: And His Master (26 page)

Then they arrived. The Commissioner of Police got down and knocked on the door. He knocked again, and then again. At last the door opened. The Superior was sent for. Hudson made them wait at least half an hour in order to create as big a scandal as possible. He appeared at last and the Commissioner whispered some words in his ear. The Commissioner appeared to be pleading and Hudson to be rejecting his intercessions harshly. Eventually, putting on a serious face and a firm manner, he said: ‘I have no dissolute monks in my House. These people here are two strangers who are unknown to me. Perhaps they are two ruffians in disguise. You can do whatever you want with them.’

At this the door was shut. The Commissioner got back into the carriage and said to our two poor devils, who were more dead than alive: ‘I have done everything I could for you. I would never have thought that Father Hudson was so harsh. Why the devil did you go to the prostitutes?’

‘If the girl you found us with is a prostitute, it is not debauchery which led us to her.’

‘Come on, fathers, you are talking to an old Commissioner of Police. Who are you?’

‘We are monks and the habits we are wearing are our own.’

‘Listen. Tomorrow you will have to explain your business. Tell me the truth. I may perhaps be able to help you.’

‘We have told you the truth… But where are we going?’

‘To the Petit Châtelet.’

‘To the Petit Châtelet… To prison!’

‘I’m afraid so.’

And it was there that Richard and his companion were led. But it was not Hudson’s intention to leave them there. He had got into a post-chaise and gone back to Versailles, where he had managed to get an audience with the Minister, to whom he explained the business as it suited him.

‘And so you see, Monseigneur, what one exposes oneself to by introducing reform into a dissolute House, and expelling heretics. A moment later and I would have been lost and dishonoured. But their persecution will not stop there. You will hear every single allegation by which it is possible to blacken the reputation of a good man. But I hope, Monseigneur, that you will remember that our General…’

‘I know, I know, and I feel sorry for you. The services which you have rendered to the Church and your Order will not be forgotten. The Lord’s
elect have always been exposed to disgrace. They have suffered it. You must learn to imitate their courage. You may depend on the kindness and the protection of the King… Ah! monks, monks… I was once one and I know from experience what they are capable of.’

‘Were the Church and State so fortunate as to see Your Eminence outlive myself, I would persevere without fear.’

‘I will help without delay. Go now.’

‘No, Your Eminence, no, I will not go without an express order…’

‘To free those two bad monks? I do believe that the honour of your religion and your cloth has moved you to the point of forgetting your personal injuries. That is a very Christian act, and I am edified by it but not surprised, coming from a man such as you. This affair will have no publicity.’

‘Ah, Monseigneur, my soul is overwhelmed with joy! That is the only thing I feared.’

‘I will see to it.’

That same evening Hudson had the order for release and the next day Richard and his companion found themselves twenty miles from Paris at daybreak, under the conduct of a bailiff who brought them back to their Mother House. He also brought with him a letter which enjoined the General to desist from similar intrigues and to impose monastic discipline on our two monks. This incident threw Hudson’s enemies into consternation. There was not one monk in his House who did not tremble under his gaze.

A few months afterwards he received the preferment of a rich abbey.

The General developed an intense hatred for him. He was old and he had every reason to fear that abbot Hudson might one day succeed him. He was very fond of Richard. ‘My dear friend,’ he said to him one day, ‘what would happen to you if you fell under the power of that scoundrel Hudson? I am afraid for you. You have not yet taken your final vows. If you take my advice you will put aside your habit…’

Richard followed this advice and returned to his father’s house, which was not far from Hudson’s abbey.

Hudson and Richard moved in the same society and it was impossible that they should not one day meet. In fact they did meet. One day Richard was visiting the lady of a château situated between Chalons and Saint-Dizier, but nearer to Saint-Dizier than Chalons, and a stone’s throw away from Hudson’s monastery.

The lady said to him: ‘Your old abbot is here. He is very likeable, but what kind of man is he underneath?’

‘The best of friends and the most dangerous of enemies.’

‘Are you not tempted to see him again?’

‘Not at all.’

Hardly had Richard answered when they heard the noise of a coach entering the courtyard and saw Hudson get down, accompanied by one of the most beautiful ladies of the neighbourhood.

‘Well, in spite of your wishes, you are going to see him again,’ said the lady of the château, ‘for here he is.’

The lady of the château and Richard went to meet Hudson and the lady who had got out of the carriage with him. The ladies embraced. As Hudson got close to Richard, he recognized him and cried out: ‘Ah! Is that you, my dear Richard? You once tried to cause my downfall. I have forgiven you. You must forgive me for your visit to the Petit Châtelet and there’s an end to it.’

‘Father Abbot, you must admit that you were a terrible scoundrel.’

‘Perhaps.’

‘And if justice had been done it wouldn’t have been me in the Châtelet but you.’

‘Perhaps… But I think that I owe my new way of life to the dangers I ran then. Ah, my dear Richard, how it has made me reflect, and how I am changed.’

‘That lady you arrived with is charming.’

‘I no longer see such attractions.’

‘What a figure!’

‘I am indifferent to all that.’

‘How well she looks.’

‘Sooner or later one tires of a pleasure which one can take only on the apex of a roof in danger of breaking one’s neck at any moment.’

‘She has the most beautiful hands in the world.’

‘I no longer have any use for them. A sensible person always returns to the real values of his calling, to the only true happiness.’

‘And those eyes, and the sidelong glances they are giving you. You must admit that even you, who happen to be a connoisseur, can hardly ever have attached yourself to eyes more brilliant or more soft than that. What grace, what nobility and what dignity in her gait and her bearing.’

‘I no longer think of such vanities. I read the Scriptures and meditate on the fathers of the Church.’

‘And from time to time the perfections of this lady. Does she live far from Moncetz? Is her husband young?’

Hudson, tired of these questions, and quite convinced that Richard did not take him for a saint, said: ‘My dear Richard, you are taking the piss, and you are quite right.’

My dear Reader, you must forgive me here for the lack of propriety of this expression and admit that here, as in an infinity of good stories, such as, for example, those of the conversation of Piron and the late Abbé Vatri,
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the decent word would spoil everything.

– What’s this conversation between Piron and the late Abbé Vatri?

Go and ask the editor of his works who hasn’t dared write it down but won’t need to have his arm twisted to tell you.

Our four protagonists had joined company again in the château. They ate well, and happily, and that evening they parted company promising to see each other again. But while the Marquis des Arcis was speaking with Jacques’ master, Jacques for his part was not sitting in silence with the Marquis’ secretary, who thought Jacques one of life’s true originals. Such characters would be more prevalent if first of all education, and then afterwards the ways of the world, did not wear men down like pieces of money which lose their definition in circulation. It was late. The masters and their valets were warned by the clock that it was time to go to bed. And they followed its advice.

While he was undressing his master Jacques asked him: ‘Do you like pictures?’

JACQUES
: That is correct.

Reader, while these good people are sleeping, I would like to propose a little question for you to think about on your pillow. What would the child of Abbot Hudson and Mme de La Pommeraye have been like?

Perhaps an honest man?

Perhaps a scheming trickster?

You can tell me the answer tomorrow morning.

Morning has come and gone and our travellers have parted company because the Marquis des Arcis wasn’t going the same way as Jacques and his master.

– So are we going to get back to the story of Jacques’ love life?

I hope so, but I can tell you one thing for certain. The master knows what time it is, has taken a pinch of snuff and has already asked Jacques: ‘Well, Jacques, your love life?’

Instead of replying to this question Jacques said: ‘Isn’t it amazing? From morning to night they speak badly of life and yet they still can’t bring themselves to end it all. Could it be that life is not such a bad thing, all in all, or are they just afraid of a worse one to come?’

MASTER
: By God, there are some good things in it though – especially in Hell. He shuts all the heretics in tombs of fire out of which spout flames which carry destruction far and wide. And he puts the ungrateful in niches where they cry tears that freeze on their faces. And the slothful in other niches where their life blood flows from their veins and is consumed by disdainful worms…
⁵²

But why the sudden outburst about our disdain for a life we are afraid of losing?