Part 24 (2/2)
”Everybody will be too many,” murmured the monk of Conils, shaking his head. ”I see that the Penguins want to quarrel. If we mix ourselves up in their quarrel they will become reconciled at our expense and we shall have to pay the cost of the war. That is why, if you are guided by me, dear Agaric, you will not engage the Church in this adventure.”
”You know my energy; you know my prudence. I will compromise nothing.
. . . Dear Cornemuse, I only want from you the funds necessary for us to begin the campaign.”
For a long time Cornemuse refused to bear the expenses of what he thought was a fatal enterprise. Agaric was in turn pathetic and terrible. At last, yielding to his prayers and threats, Cornemuse, with banging head and swinging arms, went to the austere cell that concealed his evangelical poverty. In the whitewashed wall under a branch of blessed box, there was fixed a safe. He opened it, and with a sigh took out a bundle of bills which, with hesitating hands, he gave to the pious Agaric.
”Do not doubt it, dear Cornemuse,” said the latter, thrusting the papers into the pocket of his overcoat, ”this Pyrot affair has been sent us by G.o.d for the glory and exaltation of the Church of Penguinia.”
”I pray that you may be right!” sighed the monk of Conils.
And, left alone in his laboratory, he gazed, through his exquisite eyes, with an ineffable sadness at his stoves and his retorts.
VI. THE SEVEN HUNDRED PYROTISTS
The seven hundred Pyrotists inspired the public with an increasing aversion. Every day two or three of them were beaten to death in the streets. One of them was publicly whipped, another thrown into the river, a third tarred and feathered and led through a laughing crowd, a fourth had his nose cut off by a captain of dragoons. They did not dare to show themselves at their clubs, at tennis, or at the races; they put on a disguise when they went to the Stock Exchange. In these circ.u.mstances the Prince des Boscenos thought it urgent to curb their audacity and repress their insolence. For this purpose he joined with Count Clena, M. de La Trumelle, Viscount Olive, and M. Bigourd in founding a great anti-Pyrotist a.s.sociation to which citizens in hundreds of thousands, soldiers in companies, regiments, brigades, divisions, and army corps, towns, districts, and provinces, all gave their adhesion.
About this time the Minister of War happening to visit one day his Chief of Staff, saw with surprise that the large room where General Panther worked, which was formerly quite bare, had now along each wall from floor to ceiling in sets of deep pigeon-holes, triple and quadruple rows of paper bundles of every as form and colour. These sudden and monstrous records had in a few days reached the dimensions of a pile of archives such as it takes centuries to acc.u.mulate.
”What is this?” asked the astonished minister.
”Proofs against Pyrot,” answered General Panther with patriotic satisfaction. ”We had not got them when we convicted him, but we have plenty of them now.”
The door was open, and Greatauk saw coming up the stair-case a long file of porters who were unloading heavy bales of papers in the hall, and he saw the lift slowly rising heavily loaded with paper packets.
”What are those others?” said he.
”They are fresh proofs against Pyrot that are now reaching us,” said Panther. ”I have asked for them in every county of Penguinia, in every Staff Office and in every Court in Europe. I have ordered them in every town in America and in Australia, and in every factory in Africa, and I am expecting bales of them from Bremen and a s.h.i.+p-load from Melbourne.”
And Panther turned towards the Minister of War the tranquil and radiant look of a hero. However, Greatauk, his eye-gla.s.s in his eye, was looking at the formidable pile of papers with less satisfaction than uneasiness.
”Very good,” said he, ”very good! but I am afraid that this Pyrot business may lose its beautiful simplicity. It was limpid; like a rock-crystal its value lay in its transparency. You could have searched it in vain with a magnifying-gla.s.s for a straw, a bend, a blot, for the least fault. When it left my hands it was as pure as the light. Indeed it was the light. I give you a pearl and you make a mountain out of it.
To tell you the truth I am afraid that by wis.h.i.+ng to do too well you have done less well. Proofs! of course it is good to have proofs, but perhaps it is better to have none at all. I have already told you, Panther, there is only one irrefutable proof, the confession of the guilty person (or if the innocent what matter!). The Pyrot affair, as I arranged it, left no room for criticism; there was no spot where it could be touched. It defied a.s.sault. It was invulnerable because it was invisible. Now it gives an enormous handle for discussion. I advise you, Panther, to use your paper packets with great reserve. I should be particularly grateful if you would be more sparing of your communications to journalists. You speak well, but you say too much.
Tell me, Panther, are there any forged doc.u.ments among these?”
”There are some adapted ones.”
”That is what I meant. There are some adapted ones. So much the better.
As proofs, forged doc.u.ments, in general, are better than genuine ones, first of all because they have been expressly made to suit the needs of the case, to order and measure, and therefore they are fitting and exact. They are also preferable because they carry the mind into an ideal world and turn it aside from the reality which, alas! in this world is never without some alloy. . . . Nevertheless, I think I should have preferred, Panther, that we had no proofs at all.”
The first act of the Anti-Pyrotist a.s.sociation was to ask the Government immediately to summon the seven hundred Pyrotists and their accomplices before the High Court of Justice as guilty of high treason. Prince des Boscenos was charged to speak on behalf of the a.s.sociation and presented himself before the Council which had a.s.sembled to hear him. He expressed a hope that the vigilance and firmness of the Government would rise to the height of the occasion. He shook hands with each of the ministers and as he pa.s.sed General Greatauk he whispered in his ear:
”Behave properly, you ruffian, or I will publish the Maloury dossier!”
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