From the time of my adventure with the French musicians I steeled myself against excessive fears whilst remaining duly vigilant.  On one point I was still anxious, which was that M. Zola should be able to settle down in a convenient retreat where him himself would enjoy all necessary quietude; whilst we, Wareham and I, knowing him to be well screened from his enemies, would be less liable to those ‘excursions and alarums’ which had hitherto troubled us.  As the next chapter will show, this consummation was near at hand.

IX

A QUIET HOME AND A HAUNTED HOUSE

It was M. Zola himself who, after some stay at Oatlands, discovered, in the course of his excursions with M. Desmoulin, a retreat to his liking.  It was a house in that part of Surrey belonging to a city merchant, who was willing to let it furnished for a limited period.  The owner met M. Zola on various occasions and showed himself both courteous and discreet.

The details of the ‘letting’ were arranged between him and Mr. Wareham; and my wife hastily procured servants for the new establishment.  These servants, however, did not speak French, and I settled with M. Zola that my eldest daughter, Violette, should stay with him to act in some measure as his housekeeper and interpreter.  This was thrusting a young girl, not quite sixteen, into a position of considerable responsibility, but I thought that Violette would be equal to the task, provided she followed the instructions and advice of her mother; and as she was then at home for the summer holidays she was sent down to M. Zola’s without more ado.

I shall have occasion to speak of her hereafter in some detail, in connection with a very curious incident which marked M. Zola’s exile.  Here I will merely mention that a Parisienne by birth and speaking French from her infancy, it was easy for her to understand and explain the master’s requirements.

Like M. Zola, she was provided with a bicycle, and the pair of them occasionally spent an afternoon speeding along leafy Surrey lanes and visiting quaint old villages.  The mornings, however, were devoted to work, for it was now that M. Zola started on his novel, ‘Fecondite,’ the first of a series of four volumes, which will be, he considers, his literary testament.

These books, indeed, are to embody what he regards as the four cardinal principles of human life.  First Fruitfulness, as opposed to neo-Malthusianism, which he holds to be the most pernicious of all doctrines; next Work, as opposed to the idleness of the drones, whom he would sweep away from the human community; then Truth, as opposed to falsehood, hypocrisy, and convention; and, finally, Justice to one and all, in lieu of charity to some, oppression to others, and favours for the privileged few.