The Salt Smugglers Read Free Page B

the hand of the minister Pontchartrain, these same words again: « Carry on. »
    The same comment here as for the abbé de Bucquoy.
    But in all likelihood M. de Pontchartrain occasionally varied his pet phrases. Here is another example:
    Â« I have informed the merchants of the Saint-Germain fair that they must obey the orders of the King, namely, that it is forbidden to serve food during those hours which, according to the rules of the Church, are reserved for fasting. »
    In the margin next to this, there is but a single word in pencil: « Good. »
    Further on, there is something about an individual who was arrested for having murdered a nun from Évreux. A silver seal, some bloody underclothing, and a glove were found on his person. — The individual turns out to be an abbé (yet another abbé!); but the charges against him were dropped, according to M. d’Argenson, because the abbé had apparently merely come to Versailles to look after some business affairs that were doing rather poorly, the proof being that he was still quite indigent. «Thus, he concludes, I think he can safely be regarded as a mere visionary who should be sent back to his province rather than being allowed to stay on in Paris where he is certain to become a ward of the city.»
    The minister had penciled in the following comment : « Have a few words with him first. » A terrible phrase which may very well have changed the entire legal situation of the poor abbé.
    And what if this were the abbé de Bucquoy himself! — No name, just the designation: An individual. — Further on, there is something about a certain Lebeau woman, wife of a certain Cardinal and a known prostitute ... His Excellency Pasquier is interested in her case ...
    Penciled in the margin: « House of Detention. Give her six months. »
    I don’t know whether everybody would be as engrossed as I was by these horrific pages entitled Miscellaneous Police Files . This handful of facts paints the precise historical moment at which the elusive abbé walked the earth. And I who know this unlucky abbé, — perhaps better than any of my readers could, — I trembled as I turned the pages containing the merciless reports that changed hands between these two men, — d’Argenson and Pontchartrain.
    At one point, after having assured the latter of his eternal loyalty, the former had added:
    Â« I shall not waver in my devotion, no matter what rebukes and reprimands you care to honor me with ... »
    The minister replies in the third person, this time using a pen. « He shall not be so honored whensoever he pleases; and I would be most unhappy to have to put his loyalties into question, since I cannot do the same with his abilities. »
    There was another item in this file: « The Le Pileur Affair. » A dreadful drama unfolded under my eyes.
    Have no fear, — this is not a novel .
    The drama involves one of those terrible family
scenes that take place at the bedside of someone who has just expired. At this very moment, so nicely seized by the popular stage of yore, — when the chief heir, now casting aside his mournful mask of sorrow and contrition, proudly pulls himself up to his full height and says to the members of the household: « The keys? »
    Here we have two heirs in the wake of the death of Binet de Villiers: the brother of the deceased and sole legatee, Binet de Basse-Maison, and the brother-in-law of the deceased, Le Pileur.
    Two attorneys, one representing the deceased, the other Le Pileur, were drawing up the inventory with the help of a notary and a clerk. Le Pileur complained that they had not inventoried a certain number of papers that Binet de Basse-Maison claimed were of no importance. The latter warned Le Pileur not to provoke an incident and said he should just abide by the opinion of his attorney Châtelain.
    But Le Pileur replied that he had absolutely no intention of consulting