Germinal - Emile Zola [128]
‘Yes, that’s right, that’s right,’ the other delegates muttered when they saw M. Hennebeau about to interrupt with a curt wave of the hand.
But in any case Maheu was not about to stop. Now that he was launched, the words came automatically. Occasionally he would listen to himself in astonishment, as though he were a stranger talking. These were things that had been building up inside him, things he didn’t even know were there, and that now came pouring out of him, straight from the heart. He described their poverty, the hard work, the animal existence, the wife and children at home crying out with hunger. He referred to the recent disastrous pay-days and the derisory pay that was eaten into by fines and temporary lay-offs. How were they supposed to take that home to a family in tears? Had the Company decided to finish them off once and for all?
‘Because we came to tell you, sir,’ he said finally, ‘that if it’s a question of dying, we’d rather die doing nothing. That way, at least, we spare ourselves the exhaustion…We’ve left the pits, and we’ll only go down again if the Company accepts our conditions. It wants to reduce the rate per tub and pay for the timbering separately. Well, we want the system we had before, and on top of that we want five centimes more per tub…And now it’s up to you to decide whether you believe in justice and the value of work.’
Some of the miners could be heard saying:
‘That’s it…That’s what we all think…We only want what’s right.’
Others nodded silently in agreement. The sumptuous room had melted away, with its gilt and its embroidered silks and its mysterious assembly of old things; and they weren’t even conscious of the carpet any more, crushed beneath their heavy shoes.
‘Will you listen to me or not!’ shouted M. Hennebeau finally, beginning to get angry. ‘First of all, it’s not true that the Company is making two centimes on each tub…Let’s look at the figures.’
A chaotic discussion followed. In an effort to sow division, M. Hennbeau appealed to Pierron, who muttered something non-committal. Levaque, on the other hand, led the more aggressive contingent, but he got things mixed up and kept making assertions without knowing the facts. The loud hubbub of voices seemed to be absorbed by the heavy curtains and the hothouse atmosphere.
‘If you’re all going to talk at once,’ said M. Hennebeau, ‘we shall never reach agreement.’
He had regained his composure, together with the brusque but not unfriendly courtesy of a manager who has been given a job to do and intends to see it carried out. Since the very beginning of the discussion he had been watching Étienne, trying to find some way of making him break the silence that he seemed intent on maintaining. Accordingly, in a sudden change of tack, he stopped talking about the two centimes and began to broaden the discussion.
‘No, come on now, admit the truth. It’s all this recent agitation that’s got you in a froth. Really, it’s as though some plague had come among working men, and even the best ones catch it…Oh, you don’t need