Part 16 (1/2)

CHAPTER XV.

'It's a scandal.'

'There must be a reply. The Academie cannot be silent under the attack.'

'What are you thinking of? On the contrary, the dignity of the Academie demands----'

'Gentlemen, gentlemen, the real feeling of the Academie is----'

In their private a.s.sembly room, in front of the great chimney-piece and the full-length portrait of Cardinal Richelieu, the 'deities'

were engaged in a discussion preliminary to the meeting. The cold smoke-stained light of a Parisian winter's day, falling through the great lantern overhead, gave effect to the chill solemnity of the marble busts ranged in row along the walls; and the huge fire in the chimney, nearly as red as the Cardinal's robe, was not enough to warm the little council-chamber or court-house, furnished with green leather seats, long horse-shoe table in front of the desk, and chain-bedecked usher, keeping the entrance near the place of Picheral, the Secretary.

Generally the best part of the meeting is the quarter of an hour's grace allowed to late-comers. The Academicians gather in groups with their backs to the fire and their coat tails turned up, chatting familiarly in undertones. But on this afternoon the conversation was general and had risen to the utmost violence of public debate, each new comer joining in from the far end of the room, while he signed the attendance list.

Some even before entering, while they were still depositing their great coats, comforters, and overshoes in the empty room of the Academie des Sciences, opened the door to join in the cries of 'Shame!' and 'Scandalous!'

The cause of all the commotion was this. There had appeared in a morning paper a reprint of a highly disrespectful report made to the Academie of Florence upon Astier-Rehu's 'Galileo' and the manifestly apocryphal and absurd (sic) historical doc.u.ments which were published with it. The report had been sent with the greatest privacy to the President of the Academie Francaise, and for some days there had been considerable excitement at the Inst.i.tute, where Astier-Rehu's decision was eagerly awaited. He had said nothing but, 'I know, I know; I am taking the necessary steps.' And now suddenly here was this report which they believed to be known only to themselves, hurled at them like a bomb-sh.e.l.l from the outer sheet of one of the most widely circulated of the Parisian newspapers, and accompanied by remarks insulting to the Permanent Secretary and to the whole Society.

Furious was the indignant outcry against the impudence of the journalist and the folly of Astier-Rehu, which had brought this upon them. The Academie has not been accustomed to such attacks, since it has prudently opened its doors to 'gentlemen of the Press.' The fiery Laniboire, familiar with every kind of 'sport.' talked of cutting off the gentleman's ears, and it took two or three colleagues to restrain his ardour.

'Come, Laniboire; we wear the sword, but we do not draw it Why, it's your own epigram, confound you, though adopted by the Inst.i.tute.'

'Gentlemen, you remember that Pliny the Elder, in the thirteenth book of his ”Natural History”'--here arrived Gazan, who came in puffing with his elephantine trot--'is one of the first writers who mentions counterfeit autographs; amongst others, a false letter of Priam's on papyrus'--

'Monsieur Gazan has not signed the list,' cried Picheral's sharp falsetto.

'Oh, I beg your pardon.' And the fat man went off to sign, still discoursing about papyrus and King Priam, though unheard for the hubbub of angry voices, in which the only word that could be distinguished was 'Academie.' They all talked about the Academie as if it were an actual live person, whose real view each man believed himself alone to know and to express. Suddenly the exclamations ceased, as Astier-Rehu entered, signed his name, and quietly deposited at his place as Permanent Secretary the ensign of his office, carried under his arm. Then moving towards his colleagues he said:

'Gentlemen, I have bad news for you. I sent to the Library to be tested the twelve or fifteen thousand doc.u.ments which made what I called my collection. Well, gentlemen, all are forgeries. The Academie of Florence stated the truth. I am the victim of a stupendous hoax.'

As he wiped from his brow the great drops of sweat wrung out by the strain of his confession, some one asked in an insolent tone:

'Well, and _so_, Mr. Secretary'--

'So, M. Danjou, I had no other choice but to bring an action--which is what I have done. There was a general protest, all declaring that a lawsuit was out of the question and would bring ridicule upon the whole Society, to which he answered that he was exceedingly sorry to disoblige his colleagues, but his mind was made up. 'Besides, the man is in prison and the proceedings have commenced.'

Never had the private a.s.sembly-room heard a roar like that which greeted this statement. Laniboire distinguished himself as usual among the most excited by shouting that the Academie ought to get rid of so dangerous a member. In the first heat of their anger some of the a.s.sembly began to discuss the question aloud. Could it be done? Could the Academie say to a member who had brought the whole body into an undignified position, 'Go! I reverse my judgment. Deity as you are, I relegate you to the rank of a mere mortal'? Suddenly, either having caught a few words of the discussion, or by one of those strange intuitions which seem occasionally to come as an inspiration to the most hopelessly deaf, old Rehu, who had been keeping to himself, away from the fire for fear of a fit, remarked in his loud unmodulated voice, 'During the Restoration, for reasons merely political, we turned out eleven members at once.' The patriarch gave the usual little attesting movement of the head, calling to witness his contemporaries of the period, white busts with vacant eyes standing in rows on pedestals round the room.

'Eleven! whew!' muttered Danjou amid a great silence. And Laniboire, cynical as before, said 'All societies are cowardly; it's the natural law of self-preservation.' Here Epinchard, who had been busy near the door with Picheral the Secretary, rejoined the rest, and observed in a weak voice, between two fits of coughing, that the Permanent Secretary was not the only person to blame in the matter, as would appear from the minutes of the proceedings of July 8, 1879, which should now be read.

Picheral from his place, in his thin brisk voice, began at a great pace: _On July 8, 1879, Leonard-Pierre-Alexandre Astier-Rehu presented to the Academie Francaise a letter from Rotrou to Cardinal Richelieu respecting the statutes of the Society. The Academie, after an examination of this unpublished and interesting doc.u.ment, pa.s.sed a vote of thanks to the donor, and decided to enter the letter of Rotrou upon the minutes. The letter is appended_ (at this point the Secretary slackened his delivery and put a malicious stress upon each word) _with all the errors of the original text, which, being such as occur in ordinary correspondence, confirm the authenticity of the doc.u.ment_. All stood motionless in the faded light that came through the gla.s.s, avoiding each other's eyes and listening in utter amazement.

'Shall I read the letter too?' asked Picheral with a smile. He was much amused.

'Yes, read the letter too,' said Epinchard. But after a phrase or two there were cries of 'Enough, enough, that will do!' They were ashamed of such a letter of Rotrou. It was a crying forgery, a mere schoolboy's imitation, the sentences misshapen, and half the words not known at the supposed date. How could they have been so blind?

'You see, gentlemen, that we could scarcely throw the whole burden upon our unfortunate colleague,' said Epinchard; and turning to the Permanent Secretary begged him to abandon proceedings which could bring nothing but discredit upon the whole Society and the great Cardinal himself.

But neither the fervour of the appeal nor the magnificence of the orator's att.i.tude, as he pointed to the insignia of the Sacred Founder, could prevail over the stubborn resolution of Astier-Rehu. Standing firm and upright before the little table in the middle of the room, which was used as a desk for the reading of communications, with his fists clenched, as if he feared that his decision might be wrung out of his hands, he repeated that 'Nothing, I a.s.sure you, nothing' would alter his determination. He struck the hard wood angrily with his big knuckles, as he said, 'Ah, gentlemen, I have waited, for reasons like these, too long already! I tell you, my ”Galileo” is a bone in my throat! I am not rich enough to buy it up, and I see it in the shop windows, advertising me as the accomplice of a forger.' What was his object! Why, to tear out the rotten pages with his own hand and burn them before all the world!

A trial would give him the opportunity. 'You talk of ridicule? The Academie is above the fear of it; and as for me, a b.u.t.t and a beggar as I must be, I shall have the proud satisfaction of having protected my personal honour and the dignity of history. I ask no more.' Honest Crocodilus! In the beat of his rhetoric was a sound of pure probity, which rang strangely where all around was padded with compromise and concealment. Suddenly the usher announced, 'Four o'clock, gentlemen.'

Four o'clock! and they had not finished the arrangements for Ripault-Babin's funeral.