The Rougons, those poor disreputable devils, had thus succeeded in rallying round themselves the instruments of their own fortune.  Everyone, from cowardice or stupidity, would have to obey them and work in the dark for their aggrandisement.  They simply had to fear those other influences which might be working with the same object as themselves, and might partially rob them of the merit of victory.  That was their great fear, for they wanted to reserve to themselves the role of deliverers.  They knew beforehand that they would be aided rather than hindered by the clergy and the nobility.  But if the sub-prefect, the mayor, and the other functionaries were to take a step in advance and at once stifle the insurrection they would find themselves thrown into the shade, and even arrested in their exploits; they would have neither time nor means to make themselves useful.  What they longed for was complete abstention, general panic among the functionaries.  If only all regular administration should disappear, and they could dispose of the destinies of Plassans for a single day, their fortune would be firmly established.

Happily for them, there was not a man in the government service whose convictions were so firm or whose circumstances were so needy as to make him disposed to risk the game.  The sub-prefect was a man of liberal spirit whom the executive had forgetfully left at Plassans, owing, no doubt, to the good repute of the town.  Of timid character and incapable of exceeding his authority, he would no doubt be greatly embarrassed in the presence of an insurrection.  The Rougons, who knew that he was in favour of the democratic cause, and who consequently never dreaded his zeal, were simply curious to know what attitude he would assume.  As for the municipality, this did not cause them much apprehension.  The mayor, Monsieur Garconnet, was a Legitimist whose nomination had been procured by the influence of the Saint-Marc quarter in 1849.  He detested the Republicans and treated them with undisguised disdain; but he was too closely united by bonds of friendship with certain members of the church to lend any active hand in a Bonapartist Coup d’Etat.  The other functionaries were in exactly the same position.  The justices of the peace, the post-master, the tax-collector, as well as Monsieur Peirotte, the chief receiver of taxes, were all indebted for their posts to the Clerical reaction, and could not accept the Empire with any great enthusiasm.  The Rougons, though they did not quite see how they might get rid of these people and clear the way for themselves, nevertheless indulged in sanguine hopes on finding there was little likelihood of anybody disputing their role as deliverers.

The denouement was drawing near.  In the last few days of November, as the rumour of a Coup d’Etat was circulating, the prince-president was accused of seeking the position of emperor.

“Eh! we’ll call him whatever he likes,” Granoux exclaimed, “provided he has those Republican rascals shot!”