Nana (Barnes & Noble Classics) - Emile Zola [236]
“To Berlin! to Berlin! to Berlin!”
Lucy turned round, her back against the balustrade of the window, and looking very pale, exclaimed, “Good heavens! what will become of us?”
The other women shook their heads. They were very grave, and full of anxiety about what was happening.
“I,” said Caroline Héquet in her sedate way; “I’m off to London the day after to-morrow. Mamma is already there preparing a house for me. I’m certainly not going to stop in Paris to be massacred.”
Her mother, like a prudent woman, had invested all her money abroad. One never knows how a war may end. But Maria Blond flew into a passion. She was patriotic; she talked of following the army.
“There’s a runaway for you! Yes, if they would let me, I would dress up as a man and go and shoot those Prussian pigs! And if we were all to croak, what next? A pretty thing our bodies are!”
Blanche de Sivry was exasperated.
“Don’t speak against the Prussians! They are men like the others, and are not for ever bothering women like your Frenchmen. They’ve just expelled the little Prussian who was with me—a fellow awfully rich and gentle as a lamb—incapable of hurting any one. It’s a disgrace; it’ll ruin me. And, do you know, if I’m bothered too much, I’ll go and join him in Germany! ”
Then, whilst each had her say, Gaga murmured in a doleful voice,
“It’s the end; I’ve no luck. Only a week ago, I paid the last instalment for my little house at Juvisy. Ah! heaven knows what trouble it cost me! Lili had to help me. And now war’s declared. The Prussians will come; they’ll burn everything. How can I commence all over again at my age?”
“Of course,” added Simone. “It will be funny. Perhaps on the contrary, we shall do—”
And she completed her thought with a smile. Tatan Néné and Louise Violaine were of the same opinion. The first one related that she had had some jolly times with soldiers—oh! delightful fellows who would do anything for a woman. But having raised their voices too high, Rose Mignon, still leaning against the woodwork at the foot of the bed, made them leave off with a gentle “hush!” They were startled, and glanced sideways towards the corpse, as though that request for silence had issued from the very shadow of the curtains; and in the heavy quiet that prevailed—that quiet of nothingness in which they were conscious of the rigidity of the corpse stretched out near them—the shouts of the mob burst out again,
“To Berlin! to Berlin! to Berlin!”
But they soon forgot their fright. Léa de Horn, who had a political salon, where some of Louis-Philippe’s ex-ministers indulged in smart epigrams, resumed in a low voice, as she shrugged her shoulders,
“What a mistake, this war! what awful stupidity! ”
Then Lucy at once defended the empire. She had been kept by one of the imperial princes; for her it was a family matter.
“Nonsense, my dear; we couldn’t allow ourselves to be insulted any longer. This war is the honour of France. Oh! you know, I don’t say that because of the prince. He was so stingy! Just fancy, every night he hid his louis in his boots, and whenever we played at bezique he used beans, because one day I seized the stakes, just for a joke. But that doesn’t prevent my being just. The Emperor was in the right.”
Léa wagged her head with an air of superiority, like a woman who repeats the opinions of eminent personages. And, raising her voice, she added:
“It’s the end. They’re all mad at the Tuileries. France ought to have sent them to the right about yesterday rather than—”
The others violently interrupted her. She was cracked. What was the matter with her? What had the Emperor ever done to her? Wasn’t everyone happy? Wasn’t business in a flourishing state? Paris could never be livelier. Gaga flew into a passion, roused with indignation.
“Shut up! it’s idiotic! you don’t know what you’re saying! I lived in Louis-Philippe’s