He
would shut himself in the bedroom to read these letters, which he then
hid at the bottom of an old secretaire, the key of which he carefully
kept in his waistcoat pocket. Whenever his wife questioned him about
their son he would simply answer: "Eugene writes that he is going on
all right." Felicite had long since thought of laying hands on her son's
letters. So early on the morning after her chat with the marquis, while
Pierre was still asleep, she got up on tiptoes, took the key of the
secretaire from her husband's waistcoat and substituted in its place
that of the chest of drawers, which was of the same size. Then, as soon
as her husband had gone out, she shut herself in the room in her turn,
emptied the drawer, and read all the letters with feverish curiosity.
Monsieur de Carnavant had not been mistaken, and her own suspicions were
confirmed. There were about forty letters, which enabled her to follow
the course of that great Bonapartist movement which was to terminate in
the second Empire. The letters constituted a sort of concise journal,
narrating events as they occurred, and drawing hopes and suggestions
from each of them. Eugene was full of faith. He described Prince Louis
Bonaparte to his father as the predestined necessary man who alone could
unravel the situation. He had believed in him prior even to his return
to France, at a time when Bonapartism was treated as a ridiculous
chimera. Felicite understood that her son had been a very active secret
agent since 1848.
Pages:
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158