He then briefly set forth the state of the family affairs at Issoudun, craving that the all-powerful vice-president of the Council would take some steps to persuade the Chief Commissioner of Police to transfer Philippe from Autun to Issoudun as a place of exile. Finally, he mentioned Philippe’s abject poverty, and begged a pension of sixty francs a month which the War Office might, in common decency, grant to a retired Lieutenant-Colonel.
“I will get all you ask done,” said the Count, “for it all seems to me quite just.”
Three days after, Desroches, armed with the necessary warrants, went to fetch Philippe from the prison cell of the Supreme Court, and took him to his own house in the Rue de Béthizy. There the young attorney gave the dreadful soldier one of those unanswerable sermons in which a lawyer places things in their true light, using the crudest language to epitomize the facts of his clients’ conduct, to analyze their ideas, and reduce them to the simplest expression, when he takes enough interest in a man to preach to him. After crushing the Emperor’s staff-officer by accusing him of reckless dissipation, and of causing his mother’s misfortunes and the death of old Madame Descoings, he told him how matters stood at Issoudun, explaining them from his own point of view, and thoroughly unveiling the schemes and the character of Maxence Gilet and la Rabouilleuse. The political outlaw, who was gifted with keen perceptions in such matters, listened far more intently to this part of Desroches’ lecture than to the first.
“This being the state of affairs,” said the lawyer, “you may repair so much as is reparable of the mischief you have done to your excellent family—since you cannot restore to life the poor woman whose death lies at your door; but you alone can—”
“But how can I do it?” asked Philippe.
“I have interceded for you to be quartered at Issoudun instead of at Autun.”
Philippe’s face, grown very thin, and almost sinister, furrowed as it was by suffering and privation, was suddenly lighted up by a flash of satisfaction.
“You alone, I was saying, can rescue your uncle Rouget’s fortune, of which, by this time, half, perhaps, has disappeared in the maw of that wolf called Gilet,” Desroches went on. “You know all the facts; now you must act upon them. I suggest no scheme; I have no ideas on the subject. Besides, every plan might need modifying on the scene of action. You have a very strong adversary; the rascal is very astute, and the way in which he tried to get back the pictures given to Joseph by your uncle, and succeeded in casting the odium of a crime on your poor brother, reveals an unscrupulous opponent. So be prudent; try to behave yourself in your own interest, if you cannot otherwise control yourself.—Without saying a word to Joseph, whose pride as an artist would rise in arms, I sent the pictures back to Monsieur Hochon, writing to him to deliver them only to you.—Maxence Gilet is brave …”
“So much the better,” said Philippe; “I trust to the rascal’s courage to enable me to succeed for a coward would go away from Issoudun.”
“Very good. Now, think of your mother, whose love for you is worthy of worship; and of your brother, whom you have used as your milch-cow …”
“What! he mentioned those trifles to you?” cried Philippe.
“Come, come; I am a friend of the family, and I know more about you than they do.”
“What do you know?” asked Philippe.
“You turned traitor to your fellow-conspirators …”
“I!” cried Philippe; “I! a staff-officer of the Emperor’s! Get along! We took in the Chamber of Peers, the lawyers, the Government, and the whole blessed boiling! The King’s men saw nothing but the blaze …”
“So much the better if it is true,” replied the lawyer. “But, you see, the Bourbons cannot be overthrown; they have Europe on their side; and you should try to make your peace with the War Office.—Oh! you will when you are a rich man. To grow rich, you and your brother must get hold of your uncle. If you want to bring a matter requiring so much skill, judgment, and patience to a good end, you have enough to keep your hands full all your five years—”
“No, no,” interrupted Philippe, “the thing must be done quickly. That Gilet may get possession of my uncle’s money and invest it in that woman’s name, then all would be lost.”
“Well, Monsieur Hochon is a shrewd, clear-sighted man. Take his advice. You have your pass for the journey, your place is taken by the Orléans diligence for half-past seven, your trunk is packed.—Come to dinner.”
“I have not a thing but what I stand up in,” said Philippe, opening his wretched blue greatcoat. “But I want three things, which I would ask you to beg my friend Giroudeau, Finot’s uncle, to send after me—my cavalry sword, my rapier, and my pistols.”
“You want a good deal besides,” said the lawyer with a shudder, as he looked at his client. “You shall have three months advanced pay to get you decent clothing.”
“Hallo! are you here, Godeschal?” cried Philippe, recognizing Mariette’s brother in Desroches’ head-clerk.
“Yes; I have been with Monsieur Desroches these two months.”
“And he will stay here, I hope,” said Desroches, “till he buys a practice.”
“And Mariette?” said Philippe, touched by the thought of her.
“She is waiting for the new house to be opened.”
“It would not cost her much to see me once more,” said Philippe. “However, as she pleases!”
After the scanty dinner, paid for by Desroches, who was giving his head-clerk his board, the two young lawyers saw the political outlaw into the coach, and wished him good luck.
On the 2nd of November, All Soul’s Day, Philippe Bridau presented himself before the head of the police at Issoudun to have his pass countersigned on the day of his arrival; then, by that functionary’s instructions,
