It took the carriage in which Roger sat with his escort nearly a quarter of an hour to reach the Place du Louvre; but, having crossed it, they were able to drive at a better pace down the broader thoroughfare that ran alongside the Palace and, not long since, renamed the Rue de Rivoli in honour of Napoleon's victory.
Beyond the Louvre lay the big garden where, on the terrible 10th August 1791, the first scene of the Terror had been enacted by the massacre of Louis XVI's Swiss Guard. Turning left into it, the carriage pulled up in front of the Palais de Tuileries. Two minutes later, Roger was mounting the splendid grand staircase, up which he had often so gaily gone to participate in magnificent fetes and Imperial ceremonies.
The fact that he had not been asked to surrender his sword and so was not actually under arrest, caused him some relief; but he was far from taking that as a sign that he had nothing to fear. At the door of the big antechamber on the first floor, his escort, with whom he had exchanged no more than a courteous greeting, handed him over to the Chamberlain-in-Waiting, and left him.
In the lofty white and gold salon, a number of people, mostly officers, were sitting about or talking in small groups. Roger knew a number of them, but had too much on his mind to wish to enter on idle conversation; so, after nodding to a few acquaintances, he sat down on a fauteuil at the far end of the room.
He had not been there long when Duroc, Marshal of the Emperor's Palaces and Camps, came into the room to speak to the big, black bearded General Montbrun who, with Lasalle, St. Croix and Colbert was, after Murat, one of Napoleon's four finest cavalry leaders.
The Marshal was one of Roger's oldest friends. Getting up, he crossed the room toward him. When Duroc had finished talking to the General, he turned, raised his eyebrows and exclaimed with pleasure:
'How good to see you, mon cher ami. I had no idea that you were in Paris.'
'You surprise me,' Roger replied. 'I got back only yesterday. But the Emperor has sent for me, and I felt certain you would be able to inform me of the reason.'
'No. He has made no mention of you to me.'
'What sort of mood is he in today?'
'There has been nothing so far to put him out of temper. But he is, of course, as busy as usual; so it will probably be an hour or two before he sees you.'
'I suppose he and Berthier are hard at it making plans to put an end to the trouble in Spain?
'Oh, no. He is not worrying himself on that score. He still regards it as no more than risings here and there by ill-armed rabbles, stiffened by an English army of no great size. It now looks as though a peace with Austria will soon be signed. Then he'll be able to withdraw his legions and send an army of a hundred thousand men to clean up the Peninsula, but you must forgive me now, as I have much to do. Unless he sends you off on some mission, we must agree a night to dine together.'
When Roger returned to his chair, he was in two minds whether or not to be pleased that a long wait lay ahead of him. On the one hand he was anxious to get his audience over, and so learn the worst; on the other he had had little time to think out how he could most effectively use the forged letter, and the delay would give him a chance to do so.
He had been pondering the matter for three-quarters of an hour when Marshal Brune came in and took a seat near him. Brune was the son of a lawyer: a well-educated man with literary pretensions, who prided himself particularly on his poetry; but it, was so indifferent that he had had to buy a printing press to get it printed. Like Lannes, Augereau and Bernadotte, he regretted the ending of government by the people, so was not well regarded by Napoleon. Unlike those Marshals, he had little ability as a soldier, and his only claim to military fame had been in 1799 when Bonaparte was in Egypt.
Bonaparte's absence had led to the loss of Italy, and France had been threatened with invasion from both the east and north. Massena had held the bastion of Switzerland and won undying fame by defeating the Russians under the redoubtable Suvarov; while Brune had been dispatched to repulse an English army that had landed in Holland. It had been commanded by the hopelessly inefficient Duke of York, and at Alkmaar Brune had compelled him to surrender. But every General knew that, given sufficient troops, any fool could have done that.
Nevertheless, the public had acclaimed him a hero, so Napoleon had thought it politic to include him in the original creation of Marshals; but there his elevation had stopped short. When the other Marshals, with the exception of Jourdan, Serurier and Perignon, had been made Dukes, Brune had received no title. Many people believed that this omission was due to his having, while Governor of Hamburg, gravely offended Napoleon by referring to himself as a Marshal of France, instead of a Marshal of the Empire. In recent years he had been employed mainly on administrative duties.
Greeting Roger pleasantly, he remarked anxiously, 'I would I could guess why our master has sent for me. I hope to God it is not to dispatch me with a corps into Spain.'
'Indeed,' Roger replied noncommittally, still occupied by his own uneasy forebodings. 'I would have thought that after all this time you would have welcomed a command in the field.'
Brune passed his hand over his tall, bald forehead. 'I would; but not in Spain. The war there is not war as we understand it. Every hand there is against us. Rather than let us buy their food and fodder, the peasants burn them. Even the children are used to carry intelligence to the English, so that General Wellesley is kept informed of our every move, which makes it impossible for us ever to take him by surprise. Our armies are isolated, each hundreds of miles from the others, and separated by countless thousands of murderous brigands. They take no prisoners. Instead, they flay or roast alive any Frenchman they can catch. The women are as bad as the men, and at times pretend friendliness in order to poison our troops. It is certain death for fewer than a score of our men to venture a few miles from their camps. Do you know, if one General wishes to send a message to another, he now has to provide his courier with an escort of two hundred horse to make certain of his reaching his destination?'
Roger nodded. 'How awful for our people. I had not realised that things were quite so bad as that. But I gather that Austria is on the verge of agreeing a peace. Once that is signed, the Emperor will be able to send a great army into Spain and subdue it.
'You think so? Well, perhaps you are right, but I doubt it. No one would dispute, his genius. I tell you, though; the war there is utterly unlike those he has been accustomed to waging. He has always relied for his victories on skilful combinations with each unit reaching its appointed place on time before the opening of a battle. To do so in Spain is impossibility. That clever little devil, Berthier, can pore over his maps and get out schedules of march till his great head bursts like a pricked balloon; but it will be all to no purpose, because Spain is cut up by a dozen ranges of high mountains, and there are no roads by which guns and baggage trains can cross them.'
Having been in Spain himself on several occasions, Roger knew that the tall, gloomy Marshal was right, and that even Napoleon would have to surpass himself to subdue all resistance in the Peninsula. They talked on for a while about the state of Europe generally, until Brune was summoned to the presence. Roger sat on for another hour; then, at last, he in turn was called on to face the unpredictable Corsican.
A corporal of the Old Guard stood rigidly on either side of the tall, gilded, double doors. The Chamberlain-in-Waiting tapped sharply on the parquet with his white wand of office; two footmen in liveries bespangled with golden bees and eagles threw the doors open and, as Roger was announced, he advanced into the great room, his head held high, his befeathered hat under his arm.
At the far end, the Emperor was pacing slowly to and fro, his hands clasped behind his back, his big head thrust a little forward. He was dressed, as usual, in the white and green uniform of the Guides, and presented a very different figure from that when Roger had first met him at the siege of Toulon. Then, he had been a lean faced scraggy fellow, with long, untidy hair, wearing a shabby uniform, who appeared hardly more tha
n a youth and was remarkable only for his aggressive jaw and dark, flashing eyes. Now he looked much older than his age. He was scrupulously clean, and his hair was cut short. Both his unnaturally pallid face and his body had filled out. He had become corpulent and stooped a little when he was not consciously holding himself erect in public. His powerful jaw remained his most prominent feature, and his fine eyes held their old intensity, as he suddenly turned his head and snapped at Roger:
'Well, Monsieur Casanova Breuc! What have you to say for yourself?'
Roger had already bowed three times as he crossed the room. Smiling, he bowed again. 'Nothing, Your Imperial Majesty, except that I am happy to have been received again into your august presence.'
'Ha! As smooth-tongued as ever, eh! But this time your honeyed words will not save you. You have indulged in your eternal pursuit of women once too often.'
For years past Napoleon's constant infidelities to Josephine had been notorious; so Roger said amiably, 'It is a pleasure, Sire, in which I have endeavored to emulate you.’
Napoleon's broad forehead creased in a frown. 'You impudent rascal! How dare you compare your licentiousness with my occasional peccadilloes? I am a man apart, and carrying the burden of Empire, have every right to seek such relaxation.'
'By "endeavour", Sire, I meant only to pay you a compliment. I have to exert myself mightily to succeed with women; where it needs only a glance from Your Majesty for them to swoon with delight and fall into your arms.'
'Enough of this! To obtain your ends by murder places you beyond the pale.'
'Murder!' Roger exclaimed in feigned surprise. 'What mean you, Sire? I have done no murder.5
'Liar! Augereau was here this forenoon and told me all. In order that you could make off with the Baron von Haugwitz's wife, you killed him; and your own wife into the bargain.'
'They met their deaths by accident, Sire, although I'll admit that I was responsible for bringing that about. As for the Baron's wife, she is an old friend of mine, and the least I could do was to escort her away from the scene of the tragedy, lest she be accused of having had a hand ink.'
'You admit then that you brought about their deaths?'
'I do. But you must know me well enough to be certain that never would I have done such a thing had it not been in your service.'
'Ha! The same old plea that you have so often made to excuse your wild escapades and neglect of your duties. I'll hear no more.'
I protest, Sire! I have ever served you well, and in this matter have done so yet again. Since you rightly pride yourself upon your sense of justice, you must hear me out.’
'Speak then, but be brief.'
'Your Majesty may recall that, while at Erfurt, you gave me leave so that I might pay a visit to Schloss Langenstein. While I was there, Prince Metternich came one day to luncheon. Afterwards, I chanced to overhear a brief conversation between the Prince and the Baron, which led me to believe that the latter was secretly an enemy of France. With the intention of endeavoring to verify my suspicions, I went on another visit to the Schloss in mid September. On my second night there, when everyone had retired, I stole along to the Baron's cabinet and went through his papers. Among them I found a letter incriminating him up to the hilt.
'I must now reveal to you the truth about my wife; She turned out to be a most evil woman. The black infant she gave birth to while we were at Erfurt was not the result of rape, but of her having given herself willingly while in Brazil to a Negro slave. Although I would admit this to no one but yourself, on her return to Europe she tromped me with numerous men, among them von Haugwitz.
'The Baron's cabinet was adjacent to his bedroom. She had been in there with him, but came out to return to her own room just as I was abstracting this incriminating letter from his files. I attempted to stifle her cries before she could bring her lover on the scene, but failed. Among her crimes was the appalling one that, in my presence, she had knifed her own father in the back and killed him. Knowing her ferocity, and that I stood little chance of overcoming both her and von Haugwitz, if they attacked me together, I struck her senseless. Next moment, the Baron was upon me. Fortunately, he had been drinking heavily. One blow to the jaw and he fell senseless to the floor.5
'What then was I to do with their two unconscious bodies? By ancient right, the Baron maintained in the Schloss a small bodyguard under the orders of his steward, Big Karl. When they learned what I had done, they would certainly have killed me. The only possible course was to hide the bodies and tell Big Karl in the morning that the two of them had gone out early to see the vintagers at work, then make off as swiftly as I could, with the Baroness.
'For that they had to be kept quiet until we had got well away. Had I gagged them they might have suffocated; so I found some laudanum in a medicine cupboard and drugged them both. Then I carried their bodies down to the weinstube and lowered them to the bottom of one of the big wine presses, feeling confident that they would not be found there, but regain consciousness by midday.
'The Baroness and I succeeded in escaping to Coblenz. It was not until forty-eight hours later that we learned that I had drugged them too heavily, and they had been crushed to death under a load of grapes.'
With set face the Emperor had listened to Roger's account. Now he burst out, 'Liar! Liar! Liar! I know of old your ability to invent specious excuses for your doings. Tis a tissue of lies from start to finish. I'd wager a million francs that you could not produce that letter.'
'Then you would lose your wager, Sire,' Roger retorted sharply, and he took the letter from his pocket, adding, 'It is from the Freiherr von Stein.'
'"What! That recalcitrant German cur!' Napoleon exclaimed. 'Give it me! Give it me!' And he snatched the parchment.
Swiftly he ran his eye over it. Seeing it was in German, he read it through twice, until he had fully grasped its contents. Then he threw it on the floor and stamped upon it, cursing furiously.
'May hell take these Deutschlanders? The trouble the swine give me is endless. I make a treaty with their King and crapauds like Stein have the insolence to set the people against it. Von Haugwitz's friends will raise two thousand men, will they? This is conspiracy. It will not be war but rebellion. I'll hang every one of them. I'll line the banks of the Rhine with their dangling corpses.'
Roger gave an inward sigh of relief. Unless matters now took some unforeseen twist, Talleyrand's trick had worked. Two minutes later, his new optimism was confirmed. Recovering his temper, Napoleon said:
'Clearly, it was your life or that of this scum. Since he was a traitor, he had already forfeited it. By your action you did no more than anticipate the sentence of a Court. As for your wife, she was a most ravishing creature; but, from what you tell me, a positive demon in human form. In attacking you as she did, she brought her death upon herself. You are well rid of her.'
Roger bowed. 'I thank Your Majesty for your renewed confidence in me. I am, however, still troubled by one possibility. Seeing that Baron Ulrich was own brother to the Chief Minister of Prussia, the Prussians may make an issue of it, and request you to hand me over to them. Even should they not, I'd still be in danger should you at some future time send me on a mission into Germany.'
'Have no fears on that score. I will send an instruction to the Prussian Ambassador, Baron von Brockhausen. I'll say that he is to inform his Government that I am averse to any further investigation into the Schloss Langenstein affair; and that any proceedings being taken against you are to be quashed.'
'I thank you, Sire. And now I have a request to make. This last business has placed a considerable strain upon me, and you know of old that my weak chest requires that I spend as much as possible of the winter in the sunshine. I pray you allow me leave to proceed to the South of France.'
The Emperor stared at him in surprise. 'But 'tis scarce yet October. And you have already been away from me for too long. Unlike the majority of my beaux sabreurs, you are a well educated man and have brains in your head. I've found you use
ful to me in a thousand ways. No, no! A week or so before Christmas will be time enough for you to go nurse your health. Now that a peace with Austria is as good as concluded, I'll be sending an army south to put an end to this Spanish nonsense. You have often assisted the Prince of Neuchatel to work out troop movements. Report to him tomorrow morning. And now au revoir.'
It had been worth trying for immediate leave, although Roger had thought it unlikely that he would get it. And there could be no arguing about the matter. Drawing himself to attention, he made his three bows and backed out of the room, only too thankful to be still a free man.
As an A.D.C. of the Emperor, he was entitled at any time to take a horse, and mounts were always being walked up and down outside the Palace, in case one was required by a courier carrying an urgent dispatch. As the swiftest means of rejoining Georgina, Roger took a chestnut from the nearest groom, then imperiled the lives of several pedestrians on his way back to La Belle Etoile.
Georgina's joy knew no bounds when she learned that they no longer had anything to fear, except the not very likely possibility of her being recognised and denounced as formerly English. But it was a danger that had to be guarded against, and Roger said to her:
'As you know, Napoleon believes me to suffer from a weak chest, so grants me leave to spend a part of most winters at my little chateau at St. Maxime. It is while I am supposed to be there that I have often made my secret trips to England; and, for a moment, I hoped that by again practicing this deception I could get you home. But as it is still autumn, the Emperor would have none of it. I must remain here on duty, but I am anxious to have you out of Paris, and I think I have hit on a means of doing so. Now I must wait on Talleyrand, and thank him for what he has done for me.'
'Oh, Roger,' she protested. 'Must we part so soon? I would as lief remain here with you; and the chances of my being recognised would be virtually nil if I spent all my time up here in one room. That I will do most willingly for the joy of our being able to spend our nights together.'
The Ravishing of Lady Jane Ware rb-10 Page 4
