Bel Ami; Or, The History of a Scoundrel: A Novel Read online

  CHAPTER IV.

  DUROY LEARNS SOMETHING

  Georges Duroy did not sleep well, so anxious was he to see his articlein print. He rose at daybreak, and was on the street long before thenewsboys. When he secured a paper and saw his name at the end of acolumn in large letters, he became very much excited. He felt inclinedto enact the part of a newsboy and cry out to the hurrying throng: "Buythis! it contains an article by me!" He strolled along to a cafe andseated himself in order to read the article through; that done hedecided to go to the railroad office, draw his salary, and hand in hisresignation.

  With great pomposity he informed the chief clerk that he was on thestaff of "La Vie Francaise," and by that means was avenged for manypetty insults which had been offered him. He then had some cardswritten with his new calling beneath his name, made several purchases,and repaired to the office of "La Vie Francaise." Forestier receivedhim loftily as one would an inferior.

  "Ah, here you are! Very well; I have several things for you to do. Justwait ten minutes till I finish this work." He continued writing.

  At the other end of the table sat a short, pale man, very stout andbald. Forestier asked him, when his letter was completed, "Saint-Potin,at what time shall you interview those people?"

  "At four o'clock."

  "Take Duroy, who is here, with you and initiate him into the business."

  "Very well."

  Then turning to his friend, Forestier added: "Have you brought theother paper on Algeria? The article this morning was very successful."

  Duroy stammered: "No, I thought I should have time this afternoon. Ihad so much to do--I could not."

  The other shrugged his shoulders. "If you are not more careful, youwill spoil your future. M. Walter counted on your copy. I will tell himit will be ready to-morrow. If you think you will be paid for doingnothing, you are mistaken." After a pause, he added: "You should strikewhile the iron is hot."

  Saint-Potin rose: "I am ready," said he.

  Forestier turned around in his chair and said, to Duroy: "Listen. TheChinese general Li-Theng-Fao, stopping at the Continental, and RajahTaposahib Ramaderao Pali, stopping at Hotel Bishop, have been in Paristwo days. You must interview them." Addressing Saint-Potin, he said:"Do not forget the principal points I indicated to you. Ask the generaland the rajah their opinions on the dealings of England in the extremeEast, their ideas of their system of colonization and government, theirhopes relative to the intervention of Europe and of France inparticular." To Duroy he said: "Observe what Saint-Potin says; he is anexcellent reporter, and try to learn how to draw out a man in fiveminutes." Then he resumed his work.

  The two men walked down the boulevard together, while Saint-Potin gaveDuroy a sketch of all the officials connected with the paper, sparingno one in his criticism. When he mentioned Forestier, he said: "As forhim, he was fortunate in marrying his wife."

  Duroy asked: "What about his wife?"

  Saint-Potin rubbed his hands. "Oh, she is beloved by an old fellownamed Vaudrec--he dotes upon her."

  Duroy felt as if he would like to box Saint-Potin's ears. To change thesubject he said: "It seems to me that it is late, and we have two noblelords to call upon!"

  Saint-Potin laughed: "You are very innocent! Do you think that I amgoing to interview that Chinese and that Indian? As if I did not knowbetter than they do what they should think to please the readers of 'LaVie Francaise'! I have interviewed five hundred Chinese, Prussians,Hindoos, Chilians, and Japanese. They all say the same thing. I needonly copy my article on the last comer, word for word, changing theheading, names, titles, and ages: in that there must be no error, or Ishall be hauled over the coals by the 'Figaro' or 'Gaulois.' But onthat subject the porter of the hotels will post me in five minutes. Wewill smoke our cigars and stroll in that direction. Total--one hundredsous for cabfare. That is the way, my dear fellow."

  When they arrived at the Madeleine, Saint-Potin said to his companion:"If you have anything to do, I do not need you."

  Duroy shook hands with him and walked away. The thought of the articlehe had to write that evening haunted him. Mentally he collected thematerial as he wended his way to the cafe at which he dined. Then hereturned home and seated himself at his table to work. Before his eyeswas the sheet of blank paper, but all the material he had amassed hadescaped him. After trying for an hour, and after filling five pageswith sentences which had no connection one with the other, he said: "Iam not yet familiar with the work. I must take another lesson."

  At ten o'clock the following morning he rang the bell, at his friend'shouse. The servant who opened the door, said: "Monsieur is busy."

  Duroy had not expected to find Forestier at home. However he said:"Tell him it is M. Duroy on important business."

  In the course of five minutes he was ushered into the room in which hehad spent so happy a morning. In the place Mme. Forestier had occupied,her husband was seated writing, while Mme. Forestier stood by themantelpiece and dictated to him, a cigarette between her lips.

  Duroy paused upon the threshold and murmured: "I beg your pardon, I aminterrupting you."

  His friend growled angrily: "What do you want again? Make haste; we arebusy."

  Georges stammered: "It is nothing."

  But Forestier persisted: "Come, we are losing time; you did not forceyour way into the house for the pleasure of bidding us good morning."

  Duroy, in confusion, replied: "No, it is this: I cannot complete myarticle, and you were--so--so kind the last time that I hoped--that Idared to come--"

  Forestier interrupted with: "So you think I will do your work and thatyou have only to take the money. Well, that is fine!" His wife smokedon without interfering.

  Duroy hesitated: "Excuse me. I believed--I--thought--" Then, in a clearvoice, he said: "I beg a thousand pardons, Madame, and thank you verymuch for the charming article you wrote for me yesterday." Then hebowed, and said to Charles: "I will be at the office at three o'clock."

  He returned home saying to himself: "Very well, I will write it aloneand they shall see." Scarcely had he entered than he began to write,anger spurring him on. In an hour he had finished an article, which wasa chaos of absurd matter, and took it boldly to the office. Duroyhanded Forestier his manuscript. "Here is the rest of Algeria."

  "Very well, I will hand it to the manager. That will do."

  When Duroy and Saint-Potin, who had some political information to lookup, were in the hall, the latter asked: "Have you been to the cashier'sroom?"

  "No, why?"

  "Why? To get your pay? You should always get your salary a month inadvance. One cannot tell what might happen. I will introduce you to thecashier."

  Duroy drew his two hundred francs together with twenty-eight francs forhis article of the preceding day, which, in addition to what remainedto him of his salary from the railroad office, left him three hundredand forty francs. He had never had so much, and he thought himself richfor an indefinite time. Saint-Potin took him to the offices of four orfive rival papers, hoping that the news he had been commissioned toobtain had been already received by them and that he could obtain it bymeans of his diplomacy.

  When evening came, Duroy, who had nothing more to do, turned toward theFolies-Bergeres, and walking up to the office, he said: "My name isGeorges Duroy. I am on the staff of 'La Vie Francaise.' I was here theother night with M. Forestier, who promised to get me a pass. I do notknow if he remembered it."

  The register was consulted, but his name was not inscribed upon it.However, the cashier, a very affable man, said to him: "Come in, M.Duroy, and speak to the manager yourself; he will see that everythingis all right."

  He entered and almost at once came upon Rachel, the woman he had seenthere before. She approached him: "Good evening, my dear; are you well?"

  "Very well; how are you?"

  "I am not ill. I have dreamed of you twice since the other night."

  Duroy smiled. "What does that mean?"

  "That means that I like you"; she raised her e
yes to the young man'sface, took his arm and leaning upon it, said: "Let us drink a glass ofwine and then take a walk. I should like to go to the opera like this,with you, to show you off."

  * * * * * * *

  At daybreak he again sallied forth to obtain a "Vie Francaise." Heopened the paper feverishly; his article was not there. On entering theoffice several hours later, he said to M. Walter: "I was very muchsurprised this morning not to see my second article on Algeria."

  The manager raised his head and said sharply: "I gave it to yourfriend, Forestier, and asked him to read it; he was dissatisfied withit; it will have to be done over."

  Without a word, Duroy left the room, and entering his friend's office,brusquely asked: "Why did not my article appear this morning?"

  The journalist, who was smoking a cigar, said calmly: "The manager didnot consider it good, and bade me return it to you to be revised. Thereit is." Duroy revised it several times, only to have it rejected. Hesaid nothing more of his "souvenirs," but gave his whole attention toreporting. He became acquainted behind the scenes at the theaters, andin the halls and corridors of the chamber of deputies; he knew all thecabinet ministers, generals, police agents, princes, ambassadors, menof the world, Greeks, cabmen, waiters at cafes, and many others. Inshort he soon became a remarkable reporter, of great value to thepaper, so M. Walter said. But as he only received ten centimes a linein addition to his fixed salary of two hundred francs and as hisexpenses were large, he never had a sou. When he saw certain of hisassociates with their pockets full of money, he wondered what secretmeans they employed in order to obtain it. He determined to penetratethat mystery, to enter into the association, to obtrude himself uponhis comrades, and make them share with him. Often at evening, as hewatched the trains pass his window, he dreamed of the conduct he mightpursue.