The Praetorians by Jean Larteguy

Author:Jean Larteguy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2016-05-05T12:35:06+00:00

8

THAT MORNING ANYTHING WAS POSSIBLE

Urbain Donadieu beckoned for the bottle of brandy which was out of his reach.

He filled his glass, drank half the contents and smacked his lips.

“I’m enchanted by all this! History is nothing but a series of blunders, confused situations, indecision among the strong, audacity among the weak, until historians come along and put it all in order.”

Irène, who was irritated by her father’s sententious tone and digressions, turned on Esclavier:

“You sneered at our parade in the Place de la République and called it a masquerade. Well, what was the 13th of May in Algiers, I should like to know! A comic opera!”

“That comic opera at least had the merit of being joyful and truculent. And then we had that little shiver up our spine that foretold victory, we felt that anything would be possible.

“The parade in the Place de la République, on the other hand, was nothing but a display of puppets who would afterwards be put back in their cupboards, and who knew it.

“On May 18th, in Paris, Captain Marindelle met some figures from the political world or the demi-monde. They came to offer him their services . . . because, you see, I had sent him to my brother-in-law, Michel Weihl, one of the great defenders of the Republic. While the whole police force were looking for Marindelle—without much conviction, admittedly—he was living at 128 Rue de I’Université, receiving and making telephone calls.

“Michel and his friends knew the captain had come from Algeria, that he had been parachuted into the south-west and that his mission was clearly defined: if the liquidation of the régime began to drag he was to prepare an armed drive on the capital.

“All of them, it seems, were extremely useful to him.”

“There’s not much hope of my article being published,” Irène thought to herself. “The May 13th conspiracy hatched in one of the progressivist salons of Paris which is frequented by everyone on the paper! Who knows if the boss himself did not go and call on Captain Marindelle? And my Philippe, who feels so noble and pure, delighted to be able to despise the whole lot of them. . . . How irritating he can be, with his scorn and self-sufficiency!”

“So, as I see it,” Urbain Donadieu broke in, “on the evening of May 13th your little group was knocked out of the game.”

“Next morning we all joined in. Bonvillain and his friends, by playing on Soustelle’s name and popularity, had been able during the night to get several of their supporters enrolled on the Public Safety Committee—war veterans, members of the U.S.R.A.F. or the Vigilance Committee. If they were lacking in drive those chaps were well seasoned in the political game; by virtue of their past records or present positions they also wielded more weight than the members of the Committee chosen at the outset from among those who happened to be on the spot.

“In his pocket the Tojun had a telegram. Before expiring, the Baillard government had granted him full civil and military powers.

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