Here at least was ‘a new fact’ warranting the revision of the whole Dreyfus case.  Surely the blindest bigot could not resist such evidence of the machinations of those who had sent Dreyfus to Devil’s Island; truth and justice would speedily triumph, and in a week or two he, Zola, would be able to return to France again.

But he did not take sufficient account of human obstinacy and vileness.  His friends, to whom he appealed on the subject of his return, urged him to remain where he was, for the battle, they said, was by no means over, and his name was still like the red scarf of the matador that goads the bull to fury.  The advice proved good, for again were passions stirred.  Henry, the ignoble forger, was raised to the position of martyr, and Cavaignac and Zurlinden and Chanoine in turn strove to impede the course of justice.  ‘Hope deferred maketh the heart sick,’ and thus M. Zola, finding so many difficulties in the way of his return, abandoned for a time all work and fell into brooding melancholy.

XI

THROUGH THE AUTUMN

Important events were now taking place in Paris.  Cavaignac resigned the position of War Minister and was succeeded by Zurlinden; Du Paty de Clam was turned out of the army; Esterhazy, who had likewise been ‘retired,’ fled from France, Mme. Dreyfus addressed to the Minister of Justice a formal application for the revision of her unfortunate husband’s case; and that application was in the first instance referred to a Commission of judges and functionaries.  Then General Zurlinden resigned his Ministerial office, and again becoming Governor of Paris, apprehended the gallant Picquart on a ridiculous charge of forgery, and cast him into close confinement in a military prison.  There was talk, too, of a military plot in Paris, and again and again were attempts made to prevent the granting of Revision.

Throughout those days of alternate hope and fear M. Zola suffered keenly.  It was, too, about this time that he heard of the death of his favourite dog—­an incident to which I have previously referred as coming like a blow of fate in the midst of all his anxiety.

When he rallied he spoke to me of his desire to familiarise himself in some degree with the English language, with the object principally of arriving at a more accurate understanding of the telegrams from Paris which he found in the London newspapers.  A dictionary, a conversation manual, and an English grammar for French students were then obtained; and whenever he felt that he needed a little relaxation, he took up one or another of these books and read them, as he put it to me, ’from a philosophical point of view.’

Later I procured him a set of Messrs. Nelson’s ‘Royal Readers’ for children, when he greatly praised, declaring them to be much superior to the similar class of work current in France.  Afterwards he himself purchased a prettily illustrated edition of the classic ’Vicar of Wakefield’ (the work to which all French young ladies are put when learning our language), but he found portions difficult to understand, and a French friend then procured him an edition in which the text is printed in French and English on alternate pages.