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He came out of the Bank. Had he been there to effect a new forced loan? The people who were at the doors looked at him with curiosity, and without anger. His entire bearing was insolent. He turned from time to time to say a word to one of his followers. This little cavalcade "pawed the ground" in the mist and in the mud. Fialin had the arrogant air of a man who caracoles before a crime.
De Persigny, like Saint-Arnaud, had changed his name, having begun life as Fialin. These five plotted the coup d'état ; arranged all its details, and kept their own counsel.
Not one utters a word about his crime, and no one bears the name of his father. Ah! may God grant me life, and may Jesus pardon me, I will raise a gibbet a hundred yards high, I will take hammer and nails, and I will crucify this Beauharnais called Bonaparte, between this Leroy called Saint-Arnoud, and this Fialin called Persigny! And I would drag you there also, all of you accomplices!
"'Persigny! said the Emperor. 'He has no right to associate with Gramont, after all that Paris says about his wife. "'Just so Sire. Well, Persigny was excited, no doubt about it. He began telling us how troubled he was because of the Duchess's conduct. "'This Fialin isn't over tactful, muttered the Emperor. "'Just so, Sire. Then, does Your Majesty know what Gramont hurled at him? "'What?
In case of need a Colonel of Conspiracies can become a General of Ambuscades. There was Fialin, the corporal who became a Duke. There was Fleury, who was destined to the glory of travelling by the side of the Czar on his buttocks.
It consisted of a few others, preceded by a man who seemed a soldier, but who was not in uniform. He wore a cloak with a hood. De Flotte nudged me with his elbow, and whispered, "Do you know Fialin?" I answered, "No." "Have you seen him? "No." "Do you wish to see him?" "No." "Look at him." I looked at him. This man in truth was passing before us. It was he who preceded the group of officers.
So you are a Duke, are you, M. le Seraph? Well, that is not much, to my thinking. Bah! there is Fialin made a Duke in Paris, and there are aristocrats here wearing privates' uniforms, and littering down their own horses. Bah! Have you that sort of thing in Albion?" "Attorneys throned on high, and gentlemen glad to sweep crossings? Oh, yes!" laughed her interlocutor.
By his death, in 1865, Louis Napoleon was bereft of his ablest adviser. Persigny, or Fialin, had been the close personal friend of the emperor in his exile, and took a prominent part in the abortive expedition to Boulogne. In his youth he had led a disreputable life, and was not a man of great intellect, but he was presumed to be devoted to his old comrade.
The military murderer is thus condemned to mount the villainous scale of guilt. In the morning an assassin, in the evening a thief. When night came enthusiasm and joy reigned at the Elysée. These men triumphed. Conneau has ingeniously related the scene. The familiar spirits were delirious with joy. Fialin addressed Bonaparte in hail-fellow-well-met style.
He gazed at the passers-by with a haughty look. His horse was very handsome, and, poor beast, seemed very proud. Fialin was smiling. He had in his hand the whip that his face deserved. He passed by. I never saw the man except on this occasion. De Flotte and Bancel did not leave me until they had seen me get into my vehicle. My true-hearted coachman was waiting for me in the Rue de la Vrillière.
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