Germinal - Emile Zola [46]
Chaval was about to speak, but Négrel cut him short.
‘No, don’t bother, I know what you’re going to say. Why don’t we pay you more, eh? Well, I can tell you now, you’ll leave management with no alternative. Yes, we’ll have to pay you separately for the timbering, and we’ll reduce the rate for a tub accordingly. Then we’ll soon see if you’re better off…In the meantime, replace those props immediately. I’ll be back tomorrow to check.’
And off he went, leaving them in silent shock at his threat. Dansaert, so humble in Négrel’s presence, remained behind for a few moments and spoke to them in no uncertain terms:
‘You’ll bloody get me into trouble, you lot…I warn you now. You’ll get more than a three-franc fine from me, I can tell you.’
After he had gone, it was Maheu’s turn to explode:
‘God damn it! It’s simply not fair. I’m all for remaining calm, because that’s the only way to get anywhere, but in the end they just drive you mad!…Did you hear what he said? A reduced rate for the tubs and the timbering paid separately! It’s just another way of paying us less!…Lord God Almighty!’
He looked round for someone to take his anger out on and caught sight of Catherine and Étienne standing there idly.
‘Just get me some props, will you? As if you bloody care anyway!…Hurry up, or you’ll feel my foot you know where.’
As he went to fetch some, Étienne felt no resentment at this rough treatment and was so angry with the bosses himself that he thought the miners were being much too easygoing.
Levaque and Chaval for their part had vented their fury in a string of oaths, and all of them, including Zacharie, were now timbering away like men possessed. For almost half an hour all that could be heard was the creaking of wooden props being sledge-hammered into position. Breathing heavily with their mouths now firmly shut, the men waged their desperate battle against the rock, which, had they been able, they would have raised or shoved to one side with a simple heave of the shoulder.
‘That’ll do!’ Maheu said finally, spent from anger and exhaustion. ‘Half past one…Huh! Some day’s work! We’ll not make fifty sous!…Well, I’m off, I’ve had quite enough.’
Although there was still half an hour to go, he put his clothes back on. The others did likewise. It made them angry now just to look at the coal-face. Catherine had gone back to rolling her tub, and they had to call her, irritated by her zeal: the coal could remove itself for all they cared. And so the six of them departed, with their tools under their arms, and walked the two kilometres back to the shaft by the route they had followed that morning.
Inside the chimney Catherine and Étienne lingered for a moment as the four hewers slid down to the bottom. They had chanced on little Lydie, who had stopped in the middle of her road to let them pass and was now telling them how La Mouquette had been absent for an hour after having such a bad nose-bleed that she’d had to go off to wash her face. After they had gone, the child, exhausted and covered in grime, returned to pushing her tub, straining forward with her matchstick arms and legs like some thin black ant struggling with a load that is too big for it. Meanwhile Catherine and Étienne slithered down the chimney on their backs, pressing their shoulders flat so as not to graze their foreheads; and such was the speed of their descent down the rock-face, worn smooth by every backside in the mine, that from time to time they had to catch on to the timbering to slow themselves – so their bums didn’t catch fire, they jokingly said.
Down at the bottom they found themselves alone. In the distance red stars were disappearing round a bend in the roadway. Their merriment ceased and they began to walk, with a heavy, tired tread, Catherine in front, Étienne behind. The lamps were smoking and he could barely see her through the foggy haze. It disturbed him to know that Catherine was a girl because he felt he was stupid not to kiss her and to let the memory of Chaval having