At the Embassy steps he gave each of the crew five sequins, cautioned them against talking and sent them back to the dockyard. Villetard was in his office and greeted him with much concern. All Venice was talking of the Princess Sirisha's kidnapping and, owing to the rumours which had already been spread, assumed that it had been done on General Boneparte's orders. The resentment was intense, that he should abuse his power to have carried off in broad daylight a woman to wham he had taken a fancy, and Villetard made no secret of his opinion that, unless Roger had some means of justifying his act, the General-in-Chief's rage would be unbounded when he learned that he had been made the central figure of such a scandal.
Roger needed no telling about that. He knew that to be revenged on Malderini he had taken a terrible gamble, and that there was many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip. If a single hitch occurred in his intricate plans now, by midnight he would be dead, on his way back to the Leads, or flying for his life. But what gave him greater concern at the moment was what Villetard had to say of a call that Malderini had paid him an hour earlier.
Malderini's pudgy face had been quivering with anger as he had demanded to know why, when there were a thousand other beautiful women in Venice, General Boneparte should have shown such lack of decent feeling as to have carried off the wife of a man who was on the point of rendering France an important service.
In vain Villetard had attempted to soothe him by telling him that, for his own protection he had observed the strictest secrecy about his being a French agent; and that the General-in-Chief was as yet unaware that it was he who would lead the conspirators into the trap that night. Malderini had talked of cancelling all his arrangements and, instead, going in pursuit of his wife.
Greatly surprised that he might be able to so do, Villetard had asked how he had found out where she was. To that he had replied that he was not quite certain, but he was sure she had been taken to an island with a casino on it. He had seen her there in his crystal with a tall masked man. He had yet to discover which of the many islands with casinos on them it was; but another session with his crystal might reveal that to him.
Villetard had urged him most strongly not to ruin everything by acting precipitately, and argued that he had only to wait till evening to recover his wife unharmed, as it was certain that General Boneparte would return her to him when he knew" that it was to him they would owe the capture of the conspirators. Villetard had also pointed out that unless he did wait and carry things through as arranged, he might get himself killed by whoever was guarding his wife, and in any case lose his reward. Even so, he had gone off still in a high dudgeon and refusing to promise anything.
At this news, Roger's spirits sank to zero. Sirisha's worst fears had been realised and, crystal or no crystal, Malderini had now only to become aware of the fact that the French Embassy owned an island with a casino on it, to realise that she had been taken to Portillo. Roger thanked his stars that he had left Bouvard on guard there, but Malderini was as cunning as a serpent, so might think of some way to fool him. In any case, if Malderini's rage drove him to go out there within the next few hours, the whole plot would be blown sky high. It could only be hoped that the thought of losing his chance to become Doge would restrain him. In any case, there was nothing that Roger could do about it; so he took leave of Villetard and, once more a prey to acute anxiety, had himself rowed into Mestre.
For mid October the weather was very hot and it looked like thunder. Vaguely he noticed it and hoped that there would not be a downpour which would drench Boneparte and himself when they were rowed out to Portillo, but his mind was too full of other matters for him to think much about it.
He reached the headquarters outside Mestre soon after five o'clock and learned from the adjutant there that the General-in-Chief was expected at about six. He then asked for a guard of twenty picked men who could be relied on to preserve secrecy to act as escort to the General on an evening excursion. Half an hour later they were paraded for him and he spoke to each of them individually, first questioning them about their service, then telling them that the General's life would be in their hands; so they must obey any order given to them without a moment's hesitation. He then arranged for boats to be ready down at the wharf at seven o'clock to take the whole party to one of the islands in the lagoon, and sent the men on ahead to the wharf.
These final details had only just been settled when Boneparte's travelling carriage, escorted by a troop of cuirassiers, clattered into the yard. General Baraguay d'Hilliers received him, and he inspected the guard of honour, pausing here and there to speak to an old soldier and giving his ear a tweak. Then without a glance at Roger, he went inside with the General.
The handsome curly haired Junot was with him and, dropping behind, gave Roger a grin, winked and whispered, 'All well for this evening?'
Roger had good cause to fear that by this time all might be far from well, but he showed no sign of his anxiety and replied in a low voice, with a grin, 'Yes, the lady awaits his pleasure. What sort of a mood is the little man in?'
Junot pulled a face. 'Bad. The first snow was to be seen on the mountains up there this morning, and if we mean to break the armistice we are under obligation to give the Austrians twenty-five days' notice. That would mean another campaign in deep snow and after the soft living the troops have had this past six months they're not up to it.'
'Then he's no alternative but to agree to a peace pretty quickly now.'
'That's just the rub. I think he'd give a lot to, but these damned Austrians have dug their toes in over Venice. A despatch reached Cobenzl last night. The Emperor has agreed everything except that he insists on being given the city.'
They went into the mess together, had a glass of wine and talked to the officers there for an hour while Boneparte was in d’Hilliers office shooting questions at him about the state of his Command. Shortly after seven the two Generals emerged. The guard presented arms, Boneparte gave a glance round, beckoned to Roger and strutted to his carriage. Roger and Junot followed him, got in, and took the seat opposite to him. As the carriage drove off, he frowned at Roger and said:
'Well?'
"All is arranged, mon General', smiled Roger, with a cheerfulness he was very far from feeling. 'The Princess Sirisha awaits you in a charming casino on one of the smaller islands named Portillo.'
'What! We are not going to Venice then?'
'No. I thought it unwise for you to take the risk of going into Venice in case you were recognised and attacked.'
'Nonsense. Who would wish to attack me? The Venetians have much to thank me for.'
Perhaps; but I learned from Villetard that some of them are showing base ingratitude, and even conspiring to overthrow the Republican regime you gave them.'
Boneparte grunted. 'A few malcontents. There are such in every city.'
'In any case, mon General, for you to spend the night on this island will be more discreet.'
'True. And that is important. I only hope this Princess proves up to my expectations. I am badly in need of a little relaxation.'
The drive to the wharf was a short one. A few minutes later the carriage pulled up and they descended from it. Twilight had fallen but there was still sufficient light to see some distance, and it was still hot and oppressive. The Embassy barge was drawn up at the bottom of some steps about thirty yards from where the coach had halted. In front and behind it were two other barges in which were seated the guard of twenty men that Roger had sent ahead. As the General-in-Chief appeared, a sharp order rang out, everyone in the barges stood up and came stiffly to attention.
Boneparte gave them a glance, halted, and swung round on Roger. 'What are those men of the Hundred and Thirty-First doing in barges?'
'They are your escort, man General' replied Roger promptly.
Escort! I want no escort!'
Roger was as stricken as if he had had a heart attack. Before he had recovered sufficiently to speak, Bonepart went on peev
ishly:
'Do you think I want the whole Army of Italy to know how I am spending the night?'
'No,' Roger stammered. 'No. But you must have an escort you must.'
'Must! Who in thunder are you to tell me what I must or must not do? Tonight I need you. Tomorrow I shan't. On our return in the morning you will consider yourself under arrest.'
'Yes. Very well. As you wish.' Roger held up a "protesting hand. 'Do what you will with me in the morning. I don't care. But I implore you to take an escort tonight in case… in case,…'
'In case what?'
'Well, the Venetians. The conspirators I was speaking about in the coach. They might find out that you were on Portillo and try to kidnap or kill you.'
'Fiddlesticks! How can they find out? You are behaving like an old woman.'
'But… but…'
'Stop acting like a fool, Breuc. All the escort I require is yourself and my orderly sergeant. Dismiss those men in the barges at once, and take me to this island,'
Chapter 28
In the Trap
For a moment Roger's mind went blank with sheer horror at the thought of the position in which he had landed Boneparte and himself; then it began to work with a speed at which it had rarely worked before. Somehow, he must get them both out of this terrible mess; but how? And he had only seconds in which to think. If Boneparte were given his way, they would be seven on the island, including Crozier and the three sailors. As the conspirators would expect to have to overcome a guard, they would be many more than that. The little Corsican was brave as a lion and would not submit tamely to being kidnapped. He would put up a desperate fight, so the odds were they would all get killed or seriously wounded.
There seemed only two ways to prevent that: either by stopping the conspirators from carrying out their plan, or by stopping Boneparte going to the island. For a second Roger wondered if he could get a message through to Villetard, telling him that there had been a hitch and that he must send Malderini off on a wild-goose chase by giving him the name of some island other than Portillo. But it was already past seven. It would take the best part of an hour for a messenger to get to Venice and Malderini was to be given the place of Boneparte's rendezvous within the next half-hour; so he would be on his way to Portillo before the message reached Villetard.
Then Boneparte must be stopped. But how could he be unless he was told the truth? If he was, would he accept the situation, agree to take the escort and see the matter through? No, he would not, because it would have to be disclosed to him that his intention to spend the night at the casino with a lovely woman had got out; otherwise the conspirators would not know about it. And he had been insistent that there should be no scandal. His only means of scotching it would be to dine with the officers in the mess at Mestre and spend the night there.
With lightning speed, Roger assessed the results of confessing the truth. An end to his prospects of revenging himself on Malderini; the poor Princess Sirisha left, after all, in her evil husband's clutches; himself clapped into a fortress for a term of years; and all chance gone of using the conspiracy, as he had hoped to do, as a pawn for England in the great game of international statecraft.
It was this last, more than anything else that made him suddenly decide to take a final gamble. He had taken so many to bring his plans up to their present state; why not one more? Boneparte was already walking towards the steps. Junot took a pace forward to follow and see him off. Roger grabbed him by the arm, pulled him back, and whispered:
'One moment!'
'What is it?' Junot said, testily. 'You seem in a great state today.'
'I've reason to be. I've no time to explain; but you must take charge of the escort and come after us.'
'Sacre bleu! Disobey his orders! Is it likely?'
'You love him, do you not?'
'Of course. If I had nine lives, like a cat, I'd give them all for him.'
'Very well then. Tonight his life may be in danger.'
Junot's hand jumped to his sword hilt. 'If anyone dares…'
'Listen!' Roger cut him short. 'I have only a moment. We are going to the island of Portillo. You must follow with…'
'How can I? It's still light enough to see several hundred yards. If he turns his head he'll catch sight of us. I'll be ordered back, and he'll have my hide off me into the bargain.'
'Breuc!' The angry cry came from Boneparte, who had just stepped into the barge. 'Breuc! Stop gossiping with Junot. What the devil d'you mean by keeping me waiting?'
'Give us a quarter of an hour's start,' Roger gasped. 'It will be near dark by then. Portillo. Come in on the garden side. I'll be waiting for you.'
Turning away from Junot he ran across the quay, down the steps and jumped into the barge.
That Boneparte happened to be in one of his black moods made the journey even more of an ordeal for Roger. When the
Corsican was talkative whoever was with him had to drive their wits hard to keep up with his agile mind, but now he sat with his arms folded and his chin down on his chest, obviously plunged in gloomy thoughts; so Roger's mind was free to roam over a score of unpleasant possibilities.
That Junot would follow them he had no doubt; but how long would he delay before doing so? Malderini and his friends would leave Venice at about eight so should arrive at Portillo by nine, or perhaps even a little before that. But it was a good mile farther to Portillo from Mestre than it was from Venice; so Junot could not be expected before half-past eight, as the barges with the troops in were more cumbersome and slower than the Embassy barge. Half an hour should be margin enough, but none too much in which to make sound dispositions to receive the conspirators.
On that score he now felt fairly safe. The thing that really worried him was the possibility that Malderini had decided to put the rescue of his wife before all else and had got to the island before them. If he had, and had managed to trick, hypnotise, or overcome Bouvard and his men, the love-nest would now be empty. What Boneparte would have to say about that in his present ill-humour passed beyond imagination.
There was, too, another and even more frightening possibility. Malderini might have brought the whole body of conspirators to Portillo with him. If so they could easily have overpowered the guard and would still be there, in ambush, lying in wait for Boneparte.
That thought made Roger close his eyes and bite his lip. It was not that he felt the same deep affection for the little Corsican as did Junot and several other people among the entourage; it was a matter of his personal honour. The fact that Boneparte's death might well prove to the advantage of England in the long ran had no bearing on the matter. Had Roger met him on a battlefield, he would have killed him without hesitation, but, as things stood, this brilliant mercurial wisp of a man had befriended and trusted him; so to deliberately lead him into a trap was a shameful thing to do.
Yet Roger could not escape the fact that that was exactly what he might be doing. The knowledge forced him to consider again if he ought not to confess to the tangled web he had spun and have the barge turned back to Mestre. Had his personal concerns alone been in the balance, he would now have accepted defeat and done so; but there was one matter outside them, and it was that which constrained him to remain silent.
Junot had said that now the snow had come it was too late in the year for Boneparte to have any hope of launching another successful campaign, and that he was anxious to conclude a peace as soon as possible; but the Emperor of Austria still insisted on being given Venice. Tonight, there was just a chance that the Corsican might be persuaded to abandon his self chosen role of protector of the city. To manoeuvre him into doing that, Roger believed, would, in the long run, be just as much a victory for England as one gained in battle. This was not simply a personal issue; he was, in fact, facing the French General-in-Chief on a battlefield. So the battle must go on.
There were no stars or moon; heavy thunder clouds rolled low overhead, blotting out the sky. By the time they picked up Portil
lo, darkness had fallen, and they were within a few hundred yards of the island before the denser blackness of its tall cypresses showed its position. His hopes mingled with misgivings, Roger sent out a hail. To his immense relief it was Bouvard who replied to it.
The barge drew in to the steps. Boneparte sprang lightly ashore and Roger after him. Bouvard was unable to suppress an exclamation of surprise as he recognised the General-in-Chief; then he reported all well. Boneparte asked him his name and how many men he had there. When he had replied he was told to collect his two men, get in the barge with them and return with it to Mestre.
Roger would have given a great deal to retain the sailors and the barge's crew, as their departure would leave only himself, Crozier and the orderly sergeant on the island with Boneparte but he felt that any attempt to intervene would be useless, and the thought that Junot must by now be well on the way to Portillo made him considerably easier in his mind; so he remained silent while his companion, with his harsh Italian-accented French, adjured the men in the barge to preserve silence about having brought him to the island and gave an order that the barge was to return for him at seven o'clock in the morning.
While he was addressing the sailors, Roger had a quick word with the orderly sergeant, telling him to remain there on the steps and challenge any boat that might approach loudly enough to be heard in the casino; then he accompanied Bonaparte up to it. On entering the salon they found Sirisha sitting on a sofa looking at an album of water colours. Putting it aside she stood up.
Bowing deeply to her, he returned to Boneparte and said, 'Mon General, this is Her Highness Princess Sirisha of Bahna." Turning back to her, he added, 'Your Highness, permit me to present Citizen Napoleon Boneparte, General-in-Chief of the Army of Italy and the most renowned soldier of modern times.'
The Rape Of Venice rb-6 Page 51