Colomban bore with meekness and surprise the weight of the general
reprobation. He could not go out without being stoned, so he did not go out.
He remained in his study with a superb obstinacy, writing new memoranda in
favour of the encaged innocent. In the mean time among the few readers that he
found, some, about a dozen, were struck by his reasons and began to doubt
Pyrot's guilt. They broached the subject to their friends and endeavoured to
spread the light that had arisen in their minds. One of them was a friend of
Robin Mielleux and confided to him his perplexities, with the result that he
was no longer received by that Minister. Another demanded explanations in an
open letter to the Minister of War. A third published a terrible pamphlet. The
latter, whose name was Kerdanic, was a formidable controversialist. The public
was unmoved. It was said that these defenders of the traitor had been bribed
by the rich Jews; they were stigmatized by the name of Pyrotists and the
patriots swore to exterminate them. There were only a thousand or twelve
hundred Pyrotists in the whole vast Republic, but it was believed that they
were everywhere. People were afraid of finding them in the promenades, at
meetings, at receptions, in fashionable drawing-rooms, at the dinner-table,
even in the conjugal couch. One half of the population was suspected by the
other half. The discord set all Alca on fire.
In the mean time Father Agaric, who managed his big school for young nobles,
followed events with anxious attention. The misfortunes of the Penguin Church
had not disheartened him. He remained faithful to Prince Crucho and preserved
the hope of restoring the heir of the Draconides to the Penguin throne. It
appeared to him that the events that were happening or about to happen in the
country, the state of mind of which they were at once the effect and the
cause, and the troubles that necessarily resulted from them might--if they
were directed, guided, and led by the profound wisdom of a monk--overthrow the
Republic and incline the Penguins to restore Prince Crucho, from whose piety
the faithful hoped for so much solace. Wearing his huge black hat, the brims
of which looked like the wings of Night, he walked through the Wood of Conils
towards the factory where his venerable friend, Father Cornemuse, distilled
the hygienic St. Orberosian liqueur, The good monk's industry, so cruelly
affected in the time of Emiral Chatillon, was being restored from its ruins.
One heard goods trains rumbling through the Wood and one saw in the sheds
hundreds of orphans clothed in blue, packing bottles and nailing up cases.
Agaric found the venerable Cornemuse standing before his stoves and surrounded
by his retorts. The shining pupils of the old man's eyes had again become as
rubies, his skull shone with its former elaborate and careful polish.
Agaric first congratulated the pious distiller on the restored activity of his
laboratories and workshops.
"Business is recovering. I thank God for it," answered the old man of Conils.
"Alas! it had fallen into a bad state, Brother Agaric. You raw the desolation
of this establishment. I need say no more."
Agaric turned away his head.
"The St. Orberosian liqueur," continued Cornemuse, "is making fresh conquests.
But none the less my industry remains uncertain and precarious. The laws of
ruin and desolation that struck it have not been abrogated, they have only
been suspended."
And the monk of Conils lifted his ruby eyes to heaven.
Agaric put his hand on his shoulder.
"What a sight, Cornemuse, does unhappy Penguinia present to us! Everywhere
disobedience, independence, liberty! We seethe proud, the haughty, the men of
revolt rising up. After having braved the Divine laws they now rear themselves
against human laws, so true is it that in order to be a good citizen a man
must be a good Christian. Colomban is trying to imitate Satan. Numerous
criminals are following his fatal example. They want, in their rage, to put
aside all checks, to throw off all yokes, to free themselves from the most
sacred bonds, to escape from the most salutary restraints. They strike their
country to make it obey them. But they will be overcome by the weight of
public animadversion, vituperation, indignation, fury, execration, and
abomination. That is the abyss to which they have been led by atheism, free
thought, and the monstrous claim to judge for themselves and to form their own
opinions."
"Doubtless, doubtless," replied Father Cornemuse, shaking his head, "but I
confess that the care of distilling these simples has prevented me from
following public affairs. I only know that people are talking a great deal
about a man called Pyrot. Some maintain that he is guilty, others affirm that
he is innocent, but I do not clearly understand the motives that drive both
parties to mix themselves up in a business that concerns neither of them."
The pious Agaric asked eagerly:
"You do not doubt Pyrot's guilt?"
"I cannot doubt it, dear Agaric," answered the monk of Conils. "That would be
contrary to the laws of my country which we ought to respect as long as they
are not opposed to the Divine laws. Pyrot is guilty, for he has been
convicted. As to saying more for or against his guilt, that would be to erect
my own authority against that of the judges, a thing which I will take good
care not to do. Besides, it is useless, for Pyrot has been convicted. If he
has not been convicted because he is guilty, he is guilty because he has been
convicted; it comes to the same thing. I believe in his guilt as every good
citizen ought to believe in it; and I will believe in it as long as the
established jurisdiction will order me to believe in it, for it is not for a
private person but for a judge to proclaim the innocence of a convicted
person. Human justice is venerable even in the errors inherent in its fallible
and limited nature. These errors are never irreparable; if the judges do not
repair them on earth, God will repair them in Heaven. Besides I have great
confidence in general Greatauk, who, though he certainly does not look it,
seems to me to be an abler man than all those who are attacking him."
"Dearest Cornemuse," cried the pious Agaric, "the Pyrot affair, if pushed to
the point whither we can lead it by the help of God and the necessary funds,
will produce the greatest benefits. It will lay bare the vices of this
Anti-Christian Republic and will incline the Penguins to restore the throne of
the Draconides and the prerogatives of the Church. But to do that it is
necessary for the people to see the clergy in the front rank of its defenders.
Let us march against the enemies of the army, against those who insult our
heroes, and everybody will follow us."
"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 God 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.
Read next: BOOK VI - MODERN TIMES#CHAPTER VI - THE SEVEN HUNDRED PYROTISTS
Read previous: BOOK VI - MODERN TIMES#CHAPTER IV - COLOMBAN
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