Unconscious Comedians

Leon went to speak to one of the ushers who go and come continually between this hall and the hall of sessions, with which it communicates by a passage in which are stationed the stenographers of the “Moniteur” and persons attached to the Chamber.

“As for the minister,” replied the usher to Leon as Gazonal approached them, “he is there, but I don’t know if Monsieur Giraud has come. I’ll see.”

As the usher opened one side of the double door through which none but deputies, ministers, or messengers from the king are allowed to pass, Gazonal saw a man come out who seemed still young, although he was really forty-eight years old, and to whom the usher evidently indicated Leon de Lora.

“Ha! you here!” he exclaimed, shaking hands with both Bixiou and Lora. “Scamps! what are you doing in the sanctuary of the laws?”

“Parbleu! we’ve come to learn how to blague,” said Bixiou. “We might get rusty if we didn’t.”

“Let us go into the garden,” said the young man, not observing that Gazonal belonged to the party.

Seeing that this new-comer was well-dressed, in black, the provincial did not know in which political category to place him; but he followed the others into the garden contiguous to the hall which follows the line of the quai Napoleon. Once in the garden the ci-devant young man gave way to a peal of laughter which he seemed to have been repressing since he entered the lobby.

“What is it?” asked Leon de Lora.

“My dear friend, to prove the sincerity of the constitutional government we are forced to tell the most frightful lies with incredible self-possession. But as for me, I’m freakish; some days I can lie like a prospectus; other days I can’t be serious. This is one of my hilarious days. Now, at this moment, the prime minister, being summoned by the Opposition to make known a certain diplomatic secret, is going through his paces in the tribune. Being an honest man who never lies on his own account, he whispered to me as he mounted the breach: ‘Heaven knows what I shall say to them.’ A mad desire to laugh overcame me, and as one mustn’t laugh on the ministerial bench I rushed out, for my youth does come back to me most unseasonably at times.”

“At last,” cried Gazonal, “I’ve found an honest man in Paris! You must be a very superior man,” he added, looking at the stranger.

“Ah ca! who is this gentleman?” said the ci-devant young man, examining Gazonal.

“My cousin,” said Leon, hastily. “I’ll answer for his silence and his honor as for my own. It is on his account we have come here now; he has a case before the administration which depends on your ministry. His prefect evidently wants to ruin him, and we have come to see you in order to prevent the Council of State from ratifying a great injustice.”

“Who brings up the case?”

“Massol.”

“Good.”

“And our friends Giraud and Claude Vignon are on the committee,” said Bixiou.

“Say just a word to them,” urged Leon; “tell them to come to-night to Carabine’s, where du Tillet gives a fete apropos of railways, – they are plundering more than ever on the roads.”

“Ah ca! but isn’t your cousin from the Pyrenees?” asked the young man, now become serious.

“Yes,” replied Gazonal.

“And you did not vote for us in the last elections?” said the statesman, looking hard at Gazonal.

“No; but what you have just said in my hearing has bribed me; on the word of a commandant of the National Guard I’ll have your candidate elected – ”

“Very good; will you guarantee your cousin?” asked the young man, turning to Leon.

“We are forming him,” said Bixiou, in a tone irresistibly comic.

“Well, I’ll see about it,” said the young man, leaving his friends and rushing precipitately back to the Chamber.

“Who is that?” asked Gazonal.

“The Comte de Rastignac; the minister of the department in which your affair is brought up.”

“A minister! Isn’t a minister anything more than that?”

“He is an old friend of ours. He now has three hundred thousand francs a year; he’s a peer of France; the king has made him a count; he married Nucingen’s daughter; and he is one of the two or three statesmen produced by the revolution of July. But his fame and his power bore him sometimes, and he comes down to laugh with us.”

“Ah ca! cousin; why didn’t you tell us you belonged to the Opposition?” asked Leon, seizing Gazonal by the arm. “How stupid of you! One deputy more or less to Right or Left and your bed is made.”

“We are all for the Others down my way.”

“Let ‘em go,” said Bixiou, with a facetious look; “they have Providence on their side, and Providence will bring them back without you and in spite of themselves. A manufacturer ought to be a fatalist.”

“What luck! There’s Maxime, with Canalis and Giraud,” said Leon.

“Come along, friend Gazonal, the promised actors are mustering on the stage,” said Bixiou.

And all three advanced to the above-named personages, who seemed to be sauntering along with nothing to do.

“Have they turned you out, or why are you idling about in this way?” said Bixiou to Giraud.

“No, while they are voting by secret ballot we have come out for a little air,” replied Giraud.

“How did the prime minister pull through?”

“He was magnificent!” said Canalis.

“Magnificent!” repeated Maxime.

“Magnificent!” cried Giraud.

“So! so! Right, Left, and Centre are unanimous!”

“All with a different meaning,” observed Maxime de Trailles.

Maxime was the ministerial deputy.

“Yes,” said Canalis, laughing.

Though Canalis had already been a minister, he was at this moment tending toward the Right.

“Ah! but you had a fine triumph just now,” said Maxime to Canalis; “it was you who forced the minister into the tribune.”

“And made him lie like a charlatan,” returned Canalis.

“A worthy victory,” said the honest Giraud. “In his place what would you have done?”

“I should have lied.”

“It isn’t called lying,” said Maxime de Trailles; “it is called protecting the crown.”