The nearer the building was to completion, the more complicated did the office work become. When Paul saw that nearly all the particulars had been furnished to the contractors, he thought that he would only have to see that every part was duly constructed and put in place, according to his cousin’s instructions; but the office work, which during the first few months had taken only two or three hours a day, was becoming onerous. He had to arrange the memoranda, in order to ascertain the quantities; and that time might not be lost, he was obliged to write or give orders to the workmen, that they might come at the very moment they were wanted, and, in certain cases, work together. The joiner had sent part of the doors and window-frames, and nearly all the flooring, at the end of August. They had then to order from the blacksmith the angle-plates, door-bands and cramps; and send to Tours for ironmongery, door-handles, crémones, locks, bolts, hinges, &c.; and to secure the due execution of these orders, they had to specify the size of each article as required by the strength of the wood and the nature of the articles themselves. Eugène had gone to Tours to look out samples of the ironmongery in question. The joiner and the blacksmith had to work simultaneously, and as they were not accustomed to be hurried, it was often necessary[Pg 242] to regulate the labour of each, so that time should not be lost. The slaters had come, and were perpetually calling for the mason’s or the carpenter’s assistance. And as their daily pay was considerable, it was important not to allow them any pretext for idling.
Eugène had therefore taught Paul how he should contrive every evening to get a clear idea of the labour of various kinds that was to be executed next day, and how he should allot everyone his part before quitting the works. This necessity of foreseeing everything had appeared to Paul a difficult task; but his mind had become gradually accustomed to the business, and he was acquiring the power of calculating with some ease what had to be accomplished.
Eugène warned him that he must not expect help from the workmen in thus arranging things methodically; and he had in fact observed that most of them, when any piece of work was to be begun, could not set about it, because those whose duty it was to put things in readiness for them had not received notice to do so, and had not made the necessary arrangements. Then the time would be wasted in running after one another.
“The workman,” Eugène would say to Paul, “is naturally improvident, as are all those who have acquired the habit of being commanded by others, and have no responsibility of their own. He is not unaware of what will be necessary for accomplishing such or such a piece of work; yet he waits till the moment it will have to be done without troubling himself whether the conditions required for its accomplishment will be present or not. When, therefore, labourers in several departments are working together, method, order, and foresight are demanded on the part of the architect; otherwise much time is lost; the workmen hinder instead of helping one another; each does his own work without concerning himself as to whether it is at the[Pg 243] fitting time or not. The same piece of work may have to be recommenced twice or thrice.”
The workmen who were to set the grates and fix the warming apparatus had come; and though every provision had been made during the building for the passage of the flues, for the ventilation and the hot pipes of the warming apparatus, these workmen were continually calling for the mason. But as Eugène had pre-arranged everything for the purpose, he had enjoined his clerk of the works not to allow these workmen to make holes in every direction for the passage of their pipes or other arrangements, as they had been accustomed to do, without respect for the building and the bearings of the floors. But the passages were not obvious, especially as they took very little trouble to look for them, so that Branchu was obliged to go and show them how they lay, and open the orifices, enlarging some and contracting others. Then the plumbers set about laying the water-pipes, and the walls had to be pierced for them, and cramp-holes made. The joiners, too, would be requiring the mason to cramp in the window and door-frames. It was necessary to mediate between these conflicting interests, for Branchu was getting confused, and was going from one set of workmen to another without getting anything finished. This period of his work therefore made Paul acquainted with many details in building to which he had scarcely paid attention a few months before.
At the end of September the joiners’ work was considerably advanced, and the roofing quite finished, so that soon the painting alone would remain to occupy attention. The memoranda were in due order, so that the accounts could be readily made out.
Meantime, M. de Gandelau was thinking of sending his son back to the Lyceum at the end of the vacation; it was necessary for him to complete his studies; and though[Pg 244] this year had not been lost to Paul, he was still too young to begin to study architecture, supposing he intended to adopt that profession. The question was therefore brought forward one evening towards the end of September, en famille. Eugène remarked, and with reason, that Paul had learned all he could in works on this small scale; that if he were to remain longer in the country he would see the painters prepare the grounds and put on the successive coats of paint, but this could not be of much use to him. Besides, as Madame Marie was not to return till the spring, it was desirable to allow the building to dry before proceeding with the interior decorations and upholstery.
The idea of returning to college was not very agreeable to Paul after a year of this active life, passed as it was almost entirely in the open air; but reflection taught him that it would not be right to do otherwise. Moreover, Monsieur and Madame de Gandelau had business to attend to in Paris, and would pass a part of the winter there.
It was therefore decided that Eugène should remain during the time required for getting the work finished, so that no risks should be incurred in the winter, and that Paul should set out with his parents at the beginning of October.
The painting would not be begun till after the severe frosts. Eugène undertook to have this operation superintended, and to visit the works himself during his stay at Chateauroux, where business of some importance required his presence towards the end of the winter.
All being thus arranged, Paul, with a somewhat heavy heart, quitted his beloved house on the 2nd of October, and returned to the Lyceum. Most of his comrades, like himself, had passed nearly the whole year away from Paris, and their studies had been suspended; but very few had employed their time usefully. So when Paul related what he had done during these twelve months, many[Pg 245] laughed at him, and some did not believe him; but from that time forward he was called by no other name than Monsieur l’Architecte.
During this year he had made some advance in learning to reason, in reflecting before he spoke, and in listening patiently to those who knew more than himself, so he found his old companions rather shallow and trifling. On the occasion of a holiday he made a remark to this effect to his father, with a certain mixture of vanity and regret. M. de Gandelau guessed his mood of mind, and did not let slip this occasion of correcting the reprehensible side of his thoughts.
“It is possible,” said he, “that your companions have not had the good fortune you have enjoyed of finding some one to take the trouble to set them to active work, and teach them something of the practical side of life. But it would be foolish in you, and decidedly hurtful to your mind and character, to despise those who are less informed than yourself in regard to a single branch of knowledge. Who knows whether in other matters they have not acquired a superiority you do not appreciate? It should not be our object in the world (and the Lyceum is a little world not unlike the great one), to shut ourselves up in our own knowledge and thus flatter our vanity, but to discover that of others and endeavour to profit by it. It should not be our object to shine by our knowledge, or fancied knowledge, and so occasion envy on the part of the foolish, and a smile on that of people of sense, but to elicit the knowledge possessed by others. This course of conduct secures us a double advantage: we avoid making enemies, and we increase our store of knowledge.
“It is not at all surprising that your companions know less than you about the building of a house; but you must allow that your knowledge of the matter is but small; and perhaps on other subjects they have more correct and complete[Pg 246] ideas than you have. It would have been ridiculous to conceal from your companions the nature of your occupations during your stay in the country; but why should you make much of it? If any of them who has a particular desire for information should put questions to you about it, and if you see that he is really interested in your answers, satisfy his desire; but in the presence of people who care nothing about the matter, be reserved, or else you will get laughed at. There is a vulgar phrase which exactly expresses this fact. We say: people are fond of “trotting out” those who are vain of their knowledge, that is, they get them to talk, not to satisfy a legitimate curiosity, but to make fun of them. Bear this in mind, for it is true in the Lyceum as well as everywhere else.
“If your mind is really more developed than that of your comrades, there is an easy way of making the fact apparent to all, that is, by acquiring more rapidly than they do the instruction equally offered to all. Get to the top of all your classes, and nobody will laugh at you; but all will observe that this year, which has been a sterile one to so many others, has been really a fruitful one to you.”
Paul took the hint, and when he returned to the Lyceum he left off talking about architecture, and gave his mind to the work before him. Consequently, he proved that his mind had been developed, and on New Year’s Day brought home most satisfactory testimonials of progress.
The nickname his schoolfellows had bestowed on him, however, still stuck to him.
“Ah, well!” he would say to himself, when they called him M. l’Architecte; “I shall make good their words, for I am resolved to become an architect in earnest.”
[Pg 247]