“M. Jansoulet’s carriage!”
Everybody turned round, but, as one knows, that did
not embarrass him. And while the good Nabob,
waiting for his suite, stood posing a little amid
these fashionable and famous people, this mixed tout
Paris which was there, with its every face bearing
a well-known name, a nervous and well-gloved hand
was stretched out to him, and the Duc de Mora, on his
way to his brougham, threw to him, as he passed, these
words, with that effusion which happiness gives to
the most reserved of men:
“My congratulations, my dear deputy.”
It was said in a loud voice, and every one could hear
it: “My dear deputy.”
There is in the life of all men one golden hour, one
luminous peak, whereon all that they can hope of prosperity,
joy, triumph, waits for them and is given into their
hands. The summit is more or less lofty, more
or less rugged and difficult to climb, but it exists
equally for all, for powerful and humble alike.
Only, like that longest day of the year on which the
sun has shone with its utmost brilliance, and of which
the morrow seems a first step towards winter, this
summum of human existences is but a moment
given to be enjoyed, after which one can but redescend.
This late afternoon of the first of May, streaked with
rain and sunshine, thou must forget it not, poor man—must
fix forever its changing brilliance in thy memory.
It was the hour of thy full summer, with its flowers
in bloom, its fruits bending their golden boughs, its
ripe harvests of which so recklessly thou wast plucking
the corn. The star will now pale, gradually growing
more remote and falling, incapable ere long of piercing
the mournful night wherein thy destiny shall be accomplished.
Great festivities last Saturday in the Place Vendome.
In honour of his election, M. Bernard Jansoulet, the
new deputy for Corsica, gave a magnificent evening
party, with municipal guards at the door, illumination
of the entire mansion, and two thousand invitations
sent out to fashionable Paris.
I owed to the distinction of my manners, to the sonority
of my vocal organ, which the chairman of the board
had had occasion to notice at the meetings at the
Territorial Bank, the opportunity of taking part in
this sumptuous entertainment, at which, for three hours,
standing in the vestibule, amid the flowers and hangings,
clad in scarlet and gold, with that majesty peculiar
to persons who are rather generously built, and with
my calves exposed for the first time in my life, I
launched, like a cannon-ball, through the five communicating
drawing-rooms, the name of each guest, which a glittering
beadle saluted every time with the “bing”
of his halberd on the floor.
