«You could always try again,» suggested Simonini, and added, «I know someone who’d be interested in the services of a group of good explosives experts.»
The Narrator is not sure why Simonini dangled this bait. Did he already have something in mind, or did he dangle bait out of instinct, habit or prudence, since you never know what might happen? In any event, Gaviali was enthusiastic. «Let’s talk about it,» he said. «I’m told you’ll soon be out of here, and so should I. Come and see me at Père Laurette in rue de la Huchette. I go there most evenings with my friends. The gendarmes have stopped bothering us there—they’d end up having to put all the regulars in prison, and that would be too much work, and besides, it’s easy for a gendarme to get in, but not so easy to get out.»
«What a place.» Simonini laughed. «I’ll be there. But tell me, I’ve heard there’s a certain Joly here who’s written malicious things about the emperor.»
«He’s an idealist,» said Gaviali. «Words don’t kill. But he’s probably a good enough fellow. I’ll introduce you.»
Joly was dressed in clothes that had been laundered, and he had found some way of shaving. When the privileged inmates arrived with their food baskets, he generally left the hall with the stove, keeping his own solitary company so as not to suffer the sight of other people’s good fortune. He seemed about the same age as Simonini, had the piercing gaze of a visionary, though cloaked with sadness, and appeared to be a man of many contradictions.
«Sit with me,» Simonini told him. «Take something from my basket. It’s too much for me. I could see right away you’re not one of this bunch.»
Joly thanked him silently with a smile, was pleased to accept a piece of meat and a slice of bread, but kept to generalities. «Thank goodness my sister hasn’t forgotten me,» said Simonini. «She’s not rich, but she looks after me well.»
«Lucky you,» replied Joly. «I have no one.»
The ice had been broken. They spoke about Garibaldi’s epic deeds, which the French had been following with great excitement. Simonini referred to his difficulties, first with the Piedmont government and then with the French, and here he was awaiting trial for conspiracy against the state. Joly said he was in prison not for any conspiracy but for the simple enjoyment of gossip.
«To imagine that we are a necessary part of the order of the universe is, for well-read people like us, the same as superstition is for uncultured people. You cannot change the world through ideas. People with few ideas are less likely to make mistakes; they follow what everyone else does and are no trouble to anyone; they’re successful, make money, find good jobs, enter politics, receive honors; they become famous writers, academics, journalists. Can people who are so good at looking after their own interests really be stupid? I’m the stupid one, the one who wanted to go tilting at windmills.»
By their third meal together Joly was still reluctant to get to the point, so Simonini tried to prompt him a little by asking what sort of dangerous book he could have written. Joly began to describe his Dialogue in Hell and, as he did so, became more and more indignant about the iniquities he had exposed, naming them one by one and analyzing them in greater detail than he had done in his tract.
«Tyranny, you understand, has been achieved thanks to universal suffrage! The scoundrel has carried out an authoritarian coup d’état by appealing to the ignorant mob! This is a warning to us about the democracy of tomorrow.»
«Quite right,» thought Simonini. «This Napoleon is a man for our times. He understands how to keep a grip on people who only seventy years ago were getting excited about the idea of cutting off a king’s head. Lagrange might well think that Joly had had his informers, but clearly Joly used simple facts that were plain for all to see, so as to anticipate the dictator’s next moves. More importantly, I’d like to know what he actually used as a model.»
So Simonini made a veiled reference to Eugène Sue and to Father Rodin’s letter. Joly immediately smiled, almost blushing, and admitted that the idea for portraying Napoleon’s sinful plans was inspired by Sue’s description of them, except that Joly thought it more useful to date the Jesuitical influence back to classical Machiavellianism.
«When I read Sue’s book I realized I had found the key to writing something that would shake this country. What folly. Books are seized, they’re destroyed, and you…it’s as if you’ve done nothing. And I’d forgotten that Sue was forced into exile for saying even less.»
Simonini felt he’d been deprived of something that was his. It is true that he too had copied his Jesuit discourse from Sue, though no one knew that, and he wanted to use this model of conspiracy again for other ends. And here was Joly taking it from him, bringing it into the public domain, so to speak.
Then he calmed down. Joly’s book had been confiscated and he held one of the few copies still in circulation. Joly would be in prison for a few more years, by which time Simonini would have copied the whole book, using its contents perhaps to support a conspiracy by Cavour, or by the Prussian chancellery. Nobody would realize it, including Lagrange, who at most would recognize that the document was credible.
The secret service in each country believes only what it has already heard elsewhere and would discount as unreliable any information that is entirely new. He could relax. He was in the fortunate position of knowing what Joly had told him, without anyone else knowing anything about it…except for Lacroix, to whom Lagrange had given the task of reading the Dialogue in Hell—the only one brave enough to read all of it. All he had to do, then, was eliminate Lacroix, and that would be that.
Meanwhile, the time had come for his release from Sainte-Pélagie. He went to find Joly, bidding him farewell with brotherly warmth. Joly was greatly moved and said: «Perhaps you could do me a service. I have a friend, a man called Guédon. He may not know I’m here. Perhaps he might send me a basket of something decent to eat every now and then. That disgusting soup is giving me stomachache and dysentery.»
Joly told him he would find Guédon in a bookshop in rue de Beaune, where a group of Fourierists met. Fourierists, so far as Simonini knew, were socialists who sought to reform the human race, but without a revolution, and were therefore scorned by communists and conservatives alike. But the bookshop, it seemed, had become a safe haven for all republicans who stood against the empire, and they could meet there undisturbed because the police thought the Fourierists would not hurt a fly.
On leaving prison, Simonini hastened to present his report to Lagrange. He had no interest in making Joly’s position any worse. After all, he felt almost sorry for that Don Quixote.
«Monsieur de Lagrange,» he said, «our man is just a naive fellow hoping for a moment of fame, and everything has gone wrong for him. I got the impression that if he hadn’t been encouraged by a certain colleague of yours, he wouldn’t have thought of writing his tract. And his source of information, it pains me to say, is Lacroix himself. You say he read the book in order to prepare a summary of it, but he’d probably read it, so to speak, even before it was written. Perhaps it was he who’d arranged for it to be printed in Brussels. Though why he did it I have no idea.»
«No doubt on the instructions of some foreign service, perhaps the Prussians, to create unrest in France,» Lagrange said. «I’m not surprised.»
«A Prussian agent in a department such as yours? I find that hard to believe.»
«Stieber, the head of Prussian espionage, has received nine million thalers to cover the whole of France with spies. He is said to have sent five thousand Prussian peasants and nine thousand domestic servants to France in order to have agents in cafés, restaurants, in the families that count, everywhere. It’s not true, mind you. Very few of their spies are Prussian, or even Alsatian—they’d be recognized immediately by their accent. Most of them are good Frenchmen who do it for money.»
«Can’t you identify and arrest these traitors?» Simonini asked.
«It’s not worth it. They’d only arrest ours. You don’t deal with spies by killing them but by passing them false information. And to do this we need
