Evil in a Mask rb-9

by Dennis Wheatley

  They were talking of the war and, after Roger had been with them for a few minutes, dc Pombal remarked, 'To be honest, I had hoped that His Majesty the Czar would succeed in preventing your Emperor from becoming the master of all northern Europe; but it looks now as if his latest victory may force the Russians to sue for terms.'

  Gardane gave him a quick glance. 'What victory is this of which Your Excellency speaks? I have heard of none.'

  'I had news of it shortly before leaving Isfahan. Another great pitched battle took place at Friedland on June 13th, with most appalling slaughter. Tis reported that both armies lost some twenty-five thousand men, but the Russians had by far the worst of it. Your Emperor was advancing with the object of attacking the main Allied bastion of Konigsberg. Instead of retreating on that great fortress, which would have supported his rear, General Bennigsen rashly attempted to intercept the French by throwing a large part of his army across the river Alle, with the result that, after many hours of desperate fighting, they were driven back into it. Great numbers were drowned, and by the following day such Rus­sians as survived had become a mass of fugitives.'

  For the officers of the mission this was splendid news, but knowing that Portugal's sympathies lay with the Allies, they hid their elation out of courtesy towards dc Pombal, as he went on. 'One must admire your Emperor, Messieurs, as a truly great General; but I fear his ambitions bode ill for the happiness of the peoples in countries he has not yet conquered. This applies particularly to Portugal, as we still adhere to our ancient treaty with England and have refused to come into line with his Continental System by closing our ports to British shipping. And if it emerges that he has dealt a fatal blow to the Russians, we must anticipate that he will next turn his attention to the Peninsula.'

  An awkward silence followed, then Roger tactfully changed the conversation by asking, 'Am I right in supposing that Your Excellency is a descendant of Portugal's famous Prime Minister in die past century?'

  'Yes, indeed,' replied the Marquis. ‘I am his grandson. Sebastiao Jose was certainly a remarkable man. Having been a diplomat up to the age of fifty-one, with no previous ex­perience of administration it "was an extraordinary feat to take over the posts of Secretary of State for both Foreign Affairs and War, and hold them successfully for twenty-seven years. He was fortunate, of course, in enjoying the complete confidence of his master, King Joseph. That enabled him to reorganise Portuguese education and finance, as well as our Army and Navy. It was his misfortune to have brought upon himself the bitter enmity of the Queen Mother and, after King Joseph's death in 1777, he was exiled from Court. But Portugal honours him today.'

  On reaching Shiraz the two parties separated, with cordial expressions of goodwill and the intention of pursuing their acquaintance when they got back to Isfahan. Over supper that evening Roger was much chaffed by his companions about his obvious success with the Ambassador's beautiful daughter; but he could well afford to treat their obvious envy with amusement. He went to bed that night in an almost dreamlike state of bliss at the million-to-one chance in this distant land that had brought him into contact with an ex­quisite European maiden and enabled him to capture her interest immediately.

  Next morning the mission set off on its return journey to Isfahan. Hoping that he might find a despatch awaiting him there, Gardane forced the pace, so they reached the capital late on the night of August 9th. A courier had arrived, bring­ing further details of the victory at Friedland. As usual in his bulletins, the Emperor greatly minimised the French losses and gave scant praise to his Marshals. But it was clear that Lannes had once more displayed his brilliant leadership and tenacity, by holding forty thousand Russians at bay for the greater part of the day, with only ten thousand French, until the corps of Mortier, Ney and Victor had come up to his assistance and overwhelmed the enemy.

  The despatch also contained the news that on May 20th the great Prussian stronghold of Danzig—which Napoleon, with some foolhardiness, had left in his rear still occupied by a considerable enemy army—had, at last capitulated to Lefebvre, who had been rewarded by the tide of Duke of Danzig.

  Roger and Gardane were much amused by this, as they guessed the reason that lay behind the honour. Lefebvre was more fitted for his earlier rank of Sergeant-Major than that of Marshal of the Empire, and totally unfitted to command an army corps. But he had been given one for this operation because Napoleon was meeting with opposition from the die­hard Republicans in the creation of his new nobility. Madame Lefebvre had been a washer-woman and, when the Emperor had been a penniless subaltern, she had laundered his small­clothes for nothing. Making her a Duchess would, he had cynically decided, cut the ground from under the feet of the old Revolutionaries who resented his giving titles to returned emigres now forming part of his Court. But Lefebvre could not be given a Dukedom unless he at least appeared to have made a valuable contribution to the campaign. To guard against the risk of his being defeated, Napoleon had assigned to support him Lannes with his lighting devils and Oudinot with his formidable Grenadiers; but both had been given strict injunctions that they were neither to advise nor assist Lefebvre except in an emergency. As the old ex-N.C.O. had been pro­vided with ample troops and a formidable siege train of artil­lery, they had done the job for him, thus enabling the Emperor to pull off his political coup aimed at the Jacobins.

  The earlier distribution of these Dukedoms to the Mar­shals had created furious jealousies, as the majority had been Italian territorial titles, such as Mortier, Duke of Treviso; Bessieres, Duke of Istria; Duroc, Duke of Friuli, and the War Minister, General Clarke, Duke of Feltre; whereas others were given titles commemorating battles in which they had played a prominent role: Lannes, Duke of Montebello; Augereau, Duke of Castiglione; Ney, Duke of Elchingen; Davoust, Duke of Auerstadt; and those not given battle honours had intensely resented the fact, so old Lefebvre was doubly lucky in having been created Duke of Danzig.

  Gardane eagerly enquired of the courier whether he had seen anything of the caravan, a pan of which consisted of transport bringing the presents for the Shah. Much to his relief, the man replied that he had passed it at only two days' march from Isfahan, so it could be expected very shortly.

  Next afternoon, the two-thousand-strong caravan of laden camels, horses and asses arrived in the city. For over two hours that part of it destined for the French blocked the street in which the mission was housed, before the beasts were all unloaded. Colonel Couthon and the junior officers who had travelled with him had had an uneventful but dreary jour­ney, and that evening joyfully celebrated the reunion with their comrades in agreeable surroundings.

  Gardane had lost no time in despatching Mesrop to inform the Peskis Nuviez that the presents had arrived and, on the following day, that functionary came to inspect them. Hav­ing by this time had ample evidence of the avarice of the Per­sians, the General was now able to congratulate himself on having kept back a certain number of the presents, intended as bribes for the Sultan's Ministers should the negotiations in Constantinople not be proceeding favourably; and these he put aside as a valuable reserve to win the goodwill of the Persian courtiers.

  After carefully examining the gifts originally intended for his master, the Peskis Nuviez expressed himself as well satis­fied and, having graciously accepted a pair of silver-mounted pistols for himself, said that he would consult the Court Astrologer about a day when the auspices would be favourable for the presentation to be made to His Majesty.

  Meanwhile, Roger had bought up all the tuberoses that he could find in the flower market, had them loaded on an ass and despatched to Lisala de Pombal. Then, late in the afternoon, he presented himself at the Portuguese Embassy. After a brief wait, he was ushered into an interior courtyard where, to his disappointment, he found, seated beside a foun­tain, only the Senhora Arahna and another elderly lady.

  Seeing his face drop, Lisala's aunt laughed, as she extended her hand for him to kiss, and said, 'Do not look so unhappy, Colonel. Lisala has not been suf
focated by the heady perfume of that great load of flowers you sent her. On hearing you announced, she ran upstairs to beautify herself, and she will rejoin us shortly.'

  'Then, Senhora,' Roger smiled, 'she is wasting her time; for it is pointless to gild the lily.' He was then presented to the other lady—Dona Christina de Jahlo—who, he later learned, was Lisala's duenna.

  For some ten minutes they exchanged platitudes about their visit to Shiraz and their return journeys. Then Lisala ap­peared. When at Persepolis she had been wearing riding clothes, and had her hair pinned up under a scarf against the dust. Now she was dressed in flowing, bright-hued Persian silks and her glorious Titian hair fell in ringlets round her shoulders. Her broad, smooth forehead, widely-spaced tawny eyes and full mouth with its enchanting smile were even more ravishing than the mental pictures Roger had been conjuring up for her.

  Coffee, sweet cakes and wine were brought, and for twenty minutes Roger forced himself to devote most of the time to making himself agreeable to the two older ladies. The pre­scribed time for a first visit then having expired, he stood up and said to Lisala's aunt:

  'Senhora, there are many interesting sights to be seen in Isfahan. Would you be so gracious as to allow me to offer to take the Senhorita Lisala to see some of them?'

  After a moment's hesitation, she replied. 'To permit my niece to go into the city attended by a gentleman of your attractions would be somewhat unusual, but poor Lisala has such a dull time here that I feel I must indulge her; she will, of course, be accompanied by Dona Christina.'

  It was then agreed that Roger should call for them at nine o'clock the following morning. More intoxicated than ever by the smiling glances Lisala had bestowed upon him, and well satisfied with the progress he had made, Roger took his leave.

  Next day he arrived with four sedan chairs of a form used by the Persians, the fourth being for the Armenian, Mesrop, whom he had pressed into service as their guide. Each sedan was borne by bearers in front and behind, but instead of the enclosed structure between them usual in Europe, they had a pole at the back of the seat which curved over and supported a sunshade. When the two ladies appeared, they were both heavily veiled in deference to Persian custom. Mesrop was duly introduced; then they set off.

  First Mesrop took them to see the Masjid-el-Jum'a, or Friday Mosque, the oldest and largest in Persia. It dated from the tenth century, and the greater pan of it had been built before the introduction of tiles. Instead, the pillars and ceil­ings of its many early chapels were of painted bricks, artistically laid in a variety of patterns. Unlike the majority of chapels, which could be entered through a number of archways on two or three sides, there was one specially designed for wor­ship in very cold weather. It had only one entrance, contained a big stove and was lit through very thick slabs of glass in­serted here and there in the ceiling.

  Other mosques they visited impressed them with the great size of their interior, courts, lofty minarets and huge domes. Many of the latter, Mesrop told them, had double ceilings with an air space of several feet between, because it had been discovered that this gave them additional strength to resist earthquakes, to which most parts of Persia were subject.

  The following day Mesrop took them across the river to Julfa—a separate town, inhabited entirely by his own people. Until the sixteenth century it had been forbidden for Moham­medans even to learn European languages, let alone speak them. But Shah Abbas the Great was anxious to develop re­lations with the West, so he decided to use some of his Chris­tian subjects as intermediaries. Instead of rendering a number of families miserable by carrying off the men, as most po­tentates of his age would have done, this truly great monarch had brought to Isfahan .every man, woman and child living in one Armenian town and had had built for them outside his capital a town that was a replica of the one they had left

  The architecture, shops and costumes of the people of Julfa provided a fascinating contrast with those of Isfahan, and its Greek Orthodox Cathedral was as striking as the mosques, but in an entirely different way. Every inch of the walls and ceilings was covered in magnificent frescoes in mosaic, the pillars were a blaze of gold and on one side of the centre there rose a lofty pulpit that had a bright blue, gold-starred dome surmounted by a strange, pointed roof.

  One of the priests showed them round the Treasury, in which were many early, illuminated bibles and several 'top hats' worn by prelates, made of silk gaily painted with pictures of saints and angels.

  For their third expedition, Roger and Mesrop arrived mounted and brought with them a Persian carriage for the ladies, as they were to visit a mosque which lay some four miles outside the city. Its special interest lay in its two min­arets. They were slender towers with wooden platforms about ten feet from their tops. Above the platforms rose roofed brick turrets, from the open arches of which the Mezzsin called the faithful to prayer, and when either of the platforms was walked on, the turret shook to such an extent that it swayed back and forth several feet out of true. That these 'shaking' minarets had never been blown down in a gale seemed positively miraculous, yet they had stood there for seven hundred years.

  Half a mile or so further along the road, there rose up out of the plain a hill so large and steep that it could almost be classed as a mountain. It was crowned by a straggle of stone buildings that Mesrop told them was a Zoroastrian temple. He added that the ancient fire worship was still quite exten­sively practised in Persia, and they must not miss the oppor­tunity of visiting such an interesting place.

  When they arrived at the foot of the great mound, Dona Christina at once declared that the path up it was much too steep for a woman of her years to climb; but Lisala got out of the carriage, evidently with the intention of doing so.

  During the past few days Roger and Lisala had covertly exchanged many meaningful glances, but he had been unable to get her to himself for a single moment. Now, at last, he saw his opportunity. With his most charming smile, he said to the duenna:

  'Remain here then, Senhora, and rest for a while in the shade of these trees. The Senhorita and I will make the climb, and I promise to take the greatest care of her.'

  'No! No!' the elderly woman protested. 'The Senhorita is in my charge and I cannot possibly allow her out of my sight.*

  To Roger's amazement, Lisala suddenly turned upon her duenna. Her leonine eyes blazing, she snapped, 'Hold your tongue, old woman! I am no longer an innocent incapable of taking care of myself. Who are you to decree what I shall or shall not do? Climb the hill and die of it if you wish. That would mean naught to me. Or remain here and snore. You are well paid for your post. Report this matter to my aunt, and I'll see to it that within the month you are dismissed and sent back to Portugal, to face the poverty you have brought upon yourself by your improvidence.'

  The Old Sweet Game

  In fascinated horror, Roger listened to this outburst, fearing that Lisala had suddenly gone out of her mind. Knowing the discipline to which young ladies of good family were nor­mally subjected, he was afraid the duenna would exert her authority, and Lisala be punished by not being allowed to go out with him again.

  On the contrary, the duenna quailed under the lash of her beautiful charge's tongue. Lying back in her carriage, Dona Christina covered her eyes with her hand and whimpered, 'Go then, you terrible child. But spare me the Senhora Arahna's wrath by telling her that I gave you permission.'

  With a contemptuous shrug, Lisala turned away and took Roger's arm. Mesrop made as though to follow them, but Roger said to him quietly, 'Dona Christina must not be left alone. You had best remain here to take care of her.'

  Several servants had accompanied them, and could quite easily have protected the duenna from unwelcome attentions; but the shrewd Armenian had long since sized up the situation.

  Without a muscle of his face moving, he bowed his acquiescence. 1

  As Roger and Lisala set off up the winding track, he said, 'At last we are alone, and can talk freely. We owe that to your courage in having defi
ed Dona Christina. You nearly scared the poor old woman out of her wits.'

  'Poor old woman, forsooth!' Lisala replied, a trifle sullenly. 'She is a lazy, befuddled old curmudgeon, and has brought her present servitude upon herself by her own stupidity. My pleasures have been few enough for many months past, and I'll not tolerate her interfering with them now.'

  The way was too steep for them to converse with ease, so they plodded on in silence for a while; until round the curve of the mountain, they came upon a succession of caves. Some were occupied by hermits, clad only in a garment of worn animal skin, who were seated cross-legged and gazing vacantly into space. Others were untenanted and, halting, Roger drew Lisala into one. Next moment, still breathless, but with mutual eagerness, they were clasped in each other's arms, their mouths glued together in a long, passionate kiss.

  For several minutes they fervidly caressed each other; then he whispered, 'My divine Lisala, this is indeed bliss; but an interlude that must prove all too short. Another chance for us to give expression to our love may not occur for days. Is there no other way in which we could manage to be alone together?'

  'Have you money?' she asked quickly.

  He nodded. 'Yes, sufficient for most projects. My status as the Emperor's personal agent enables me to draw on French funds as heavily as I wish, without being questioned about the use to which I intend to put the money.'

  Her wide-spaced eyes smiled up into his. 'Then you must do as did my Russian Prince last year. There is a house across a narrow alley behind the Embassy. He rented the top floor. The roofs between the two buildings are almost level and can easily be spanned by a ladder. Once you are installed there, I could cross and spend the best part of the night there with you.'