The Patron

by Guy de Maupassant

　　

---

We never dreamed of such good fortune! The son of a provincial bailiff,Jean Marin had come, as do so many others, to study law in the QuartierLatin. In the various beer-houses that he had frequented he had madefriends with several talkative students who spouted politics as theydrank their beer. He had a great admiration for them and followed thempersistently from cafe to cafe, even paying for their drinks when he hadthe money.He became a lawyer and pleaded causes, which he lost. However, onemorning he read in the papers that one of his former comrades of theQuartier had just been appointed deputy.He again became his faithful hound, the friend who does the drudgery, theunpleasant tasks, for whom one sends when one has need of him and withwhom one does not stand on ceremony. But it chanced through someparliamentary incident that the deputy became a minister. Six monthslater Jean Marin was appointed a state councillor.He was so elated with pride at first that he lost his head. He wouldwalk through the streets just to show himself off, as though one couldtell by his appearance what position he occupied. He managed to say tothe shopkeepers as soon as he entered a store, bringing it in somehow inthe course of the most insignificant remarks and even to the news vendorsand the cabmen:"I, who am a state councillor--"Then, in consequence of his position as well as for professional reasonsand as in duty bound through being an influential and generous man, hefelt an imperious need of patronizing others. He offered his support toevery one on all occasions and with unbounded generosity.When he met any one he recognized on the boulevards he would advance tomeet them with a charmed air, would take their hand, inquire after theirhealth, and, without waiting for any questions, remark:"You know I am state councillor, and I am entirely at your service. If Ican be of any use to you, do not hesitate to call on me. In my positionone has great influence."Then he would go into some cafe with the friend he had just met and askfor a pen and ink and a sheet of paper. "Just one, waiter; it is towrite a letter of recommendation."And he wrote ten, twenty, fifty letters of recommendation a day. Hewrote them to the Cafe Americain, to Bignon's, to Tortoni's, to theMaison Doree, to the Cafe Riche, to the Helder, to the Cafe Anglais, tothe Napolitain, everywhere, everywhere. He wrote them to all theofficials of the republican government, from the magistrates to theministers. And he was happy, perfectly happy.One morning as he was starting out to go to the council it began to rain.He hesitated about taking a cab, but decided not to do so and set out onfoot.The rain came down in torrents, swamping the sidewalks and inundating thestreets. M. Marin was obliged to take shelter in a doorway. An oldpriest was standing there--an old priest with white hair. Before hebecame a councillor M. Marin did not like the clergy. Now he treatedthem with consideration, ever since a cardinal had consulted him on animportant matter. The rain continued to pour down in floods and obligedthe two men to take shelter in the porter's lodge so as to avoid gettingwet. M. Marin, who was always itching to talk so as to let people knowwho he was, remarked:"This is horrible weather, Monsieur l'Abbe."The old priest bowed:"Yes indeed, sir, it is very unpleasant when one comes to Paris for onlya few days.""Ah! You come from the provinces?""Yes, monsieur. I am only passing through on my journey.""It certainly is very disagreeable to have rain during the few days onespends in the capital. We officials who stay here the year round, wethink nothing of it."The priest did not reply. He was looking at the street where the rainseemed to be falling less heavily. And with a sudden resolve he raisedhis cassock just as women raise their skirts in stepping across water.M. Marin, seeing him start away, exclaimed:"You will get drenched, Monsieur l'Abbe. Wait a few moments longer; therain will be over."The good man stopped irresistibly and then said:"But I am in a great hurry. I have an important engagement."M. Marin seemed quite worried."But you will be absolutely drenched. Might I ask in which direction youare going?"The priest appeared to hesitate. Then he said:"I am going in the direction of the Palais Royal.""In that case, if you will allow me, Monsieur l'Abbe, I will offer youthe shelter of my umbrella: As for me, I am going to the council. I am acouncillor of state."The old priest raised his head and looked at his neighbor and thenexclaimed:"I thank you, monsieur. I shall be glad to accept your offer."M. Marin then took his arm and led him away. He directed him, watchedover him and advised him."Be careful of that stream, Monsieur 1'Abbe. And be very careful aboutthe carriage wheels; they spatter you with mud sometimes from head tofoot. Look out for the umbrellas of the people passing by; there isnothing more dangerous to the eyes than the tips of the ribs. Womenespecially are unbearable; they pay no heed to where they are going andalways jab you in the face with the point of their parasols or umbrellas.And they never move aside for anybody. One would suppose the townbelonged to them. They monopolize the pavement and the street. It is myopinion that their education has been greatly neglected."And M. Marin laughed.The priest did not reply. He walked along, slightly bent over, pickinghis steps carefully so as not to get mud on his boots or his cassock.M. Marin resumed:"I suppose you have come to Paris to divert your mind a little?"The good man replied:"No, I have some business to attend to.""Ali! Is it important business? Might I venture to ask what it is? IfI can be of any service to you, you may command me."The priest seemed embarrassed. He murmured:"Oh, it is a little personal matter; a little difficulty with--with mybishop. It would not interest you. It is a matter of internalregulation--an ecclesiastical affair."M. Marin was eager."But it is precisely the state council that regulates all those things.In that case, make use of me.""Yes, monsieur, it is to the council that I am going. You are a thousandtimes too kind. I have to see M. Lerepere and M. Savon and also perhapsM. Petitpas."M. Marin stopped short."Why, those are my friends, Monsieur l'Abbe, my best friends, excellentcolleagues, charming men. I will speak to them about you, and veryhighly. Count upon me."The cure thanked him, apologizing for troubling him, and stammered out athousand grateful promises.M. Marin was enchanted."Ah, you may be proud of having made a stroke of luck, Monsieur l'Abbe.You will see--you will see that, thanks to me, your affair will go alongswimmingly."They reached the council hall. M. Marin took the priest into his office,offered him a chair in front of the fire and sat down himself at his deskand began to write."My dear colleague, allow me to recommend to you most highly a venerableand particularly worthy and deserving priest, M. L'Abbe----"He stopped and asked:"Your name, if you please?""L'Abbe Ceinture.""M. l'Abbe Ceinture, who needs your good office in a little matter whichhe will communicate to you."I am pleased at this incident which gives me an opportunity, my dearcolleague----"And he finished with the usual compliments.When he had written the three letters he handed them to his protege, whotook his departure with many protestations of gratitude.M. Marin attended to some business and then went home, passed the dayquietly, slept well, woke in a good humor and sent for his newspapers.The first he opened was a radical sheet. He read:"OUR CLERGY AND OUR GOVERNMENT OFFICIALS"We shall never make an end of enumerating the misdeeds of the clergy.A certain priest, named Ceinture, convicted of conspiracy against thepresent government, accused of base actions to which we will not evenallude, suspected besides of being a former Jesuit, metamorphosed into asimple priest, suspended by a bishop for causes that are said to beunmentionable and summoned to Paris to give an explanation of hisconduct, has found an ardent defender in the man named Marin, acouncillor of state, who was not afraid to give this frocked malefactorthe warmest letters of recommendation to all the republican officials,his colleagues."We call the, attention of the ministry to the unheard of attitude ofthis councillor of state----"M. Marin bounded out of bed, dressed himself and hastened to hiscolleague, Petitpas, who said to him:"How now? You were crazy to recommend to me that old conspirator!"M. Marin, bewildered, stammered out:"Why no--you see--I was deceived. He looked such an honest man. Heplayed me a trick--a disgraceful trick! I beg that you will sentence himseverely, very severely. I am going to write. Tell me to whom I shouldwrite about having him punished. I will go and see the attorney-generaland the archbishop of Paris--yes, the archbishop."And seating himself abruptly at M. Petitpas' desk, he wrote:"Monseigneur, I have the honor to bring to your grace's notice the factthat I have recently been made a victim of the intrigues and lies of acertain Abbe Ceinture, who imposed on my kind-heartedness."Deceived by the representations of this ecclesiastic, I was led----"Then, having signed and sealed his letter, he turned to his colleague andexclaimed:"See here; my dear friend, let this be a warning to you never torecommend any one again."

---

---