Having given a nod of agreement, Fouche swiftly hedged. 'You will, of course, appreciate that in my position I could not take a personal part in any movement. Such action as is taken
would be entirely his affair. I should remain merely an observer.'
'Naturally,' Roger agreed gravely. 'And, after all, we are talking of something that may never take place. Let us leave it that you are to meet the General. Should you then feel about him as do others who know him well, and should he contemplate anything, you might, perhaps, be willing to view the project with benevolent neutrality? '
' Benevolent neutrality. That is an apt phrase; most apt 1 see that we understand one another very well.' Coming slowly to his feet, Fouche added, 'And now, mon cher Colonel, it remains only for me to thank you for having called upon me.'
Roger rose and took the moist, bony hand offered him. ' Monsieur le Ministre, it has been a great pleasure to me to renew our acquaintance in such circumstances. In future you may rely upon me to have your interests at heart.'
' You are most kind. Life could be so much simpler if one had only to deal with friends. For my part, should you have any little personal troubles at any time please remember that the Ministry of Police can usually find ways to smooth them out, and that it is at your service.'
Five minutes later Roger was out in the street. His relief at emerging from the Ministry was submerged in elation. He could hardly believe that he was not dreaming. Fouche might still have suspicions about him, but, if so, they could be only lingering ones which he was prepared to ignore unless given fresh cause to believe that Colonel Breuc was betraying France. In his tussle with Talleyrand Roger had been worsted and, to convince him of his bona fides, had been compelled to spend seventeen arduous months in the Near East and Mediterranean. But in this far more dangerous battle of wits with Fouche it was he who had come off best, for not only had he retained his freedom but, to his amazement, had also placed himself in a situation that could prove enormously to his advantage.
When he arrived at Talleyrand's reception he found, receiving with him, a woman of quite exceptional beauty. She was past her first youth but had a lovely figure, a marvellous complexion, big blue eyes, masses of golden hair and a slightly retrousse nose, not unlike that of Talleyrand. Roger bowed over her hand, gave Talleyrand a smiling nod to indicate that he had successfully survived his interview with Fouche, then moved away into the crowd.
At the buffet, he found himself next to an old acquaintance: a handsome gentleman known as le beau Montrond He was a wit, a dandy, a gambler, a formidable duellist and a great personal friend of Talleyrand's. He had attached himself to the statesman and rendered him many useful services. It was said of him that on one occasion Talleyrand had remarked to a third party in de Montrond's presence, ' You know, I like de Montrond because he is not overburdened with scruples.' Upon which de Montrond put in, ' And I like de Talleyrand because he has no scruples at all.'
To de Montrond Roger said, ' Tell me, who is that beautiful woman who is acting as hostess for our host? '
De Montrond looked at him in surprise. ' Do you not know? But, of course, you have been long abroad. She is a Madame Grand and is known as ''The Indian" because, although the daughter of a Frenchman, she was born in Pondicherry. From her teens she has been a most notorious whore; but no one can deny her beauty and our dear Charles-Maurice has made her, for ail practical purposes, his wife.'
Roger needed to ask no more for, although he had never met Catherine Grand when he was in Calcutta, her name had still been a legend in Society there. At the age of fifteen she had married an official of the India Company named Grand. Her dazzling beauty had soon attracted the interest of Sir Philip Francis, a member of the Supreme Council of Bengal: the man who, with vitriolic venom, had, as a friend of Charles James Fox and in the Whig interests, consistently thwarted the work of India's greatest Governor, Warren Hastings. One night, Grand's Indian servants had found a ladder made of sections of bamboo swinging from Mrs. Grand's window. Believing that burglars had used it to gain entry the servants had roused the house. Sir Philip had then been found in the bed of its luscious sixteen-year-old mistress.
Mr. Grand had promptly returned the young lady to her parents and sued Sir Philip for heavy damages. Although the case had gone against him, Sir Philip had performed the extraordinary feat of persuading his wife that his interest in his enchanting little mistress was no more than paternal; so she had lived for a year in their house. Then, having tired of her elderly lover, she had run away with a younger one to Paris.
From that point, de Montrond gave Roger her biography up-to-date. In the years preceding the Revolution she had passed through the hands of a long succession of aristocrats. During the Terror she had taken refuge in England. On her return to Paris the police had believed that she had been sent over by the English as a spy. In the hope of clearing herself she had requested an interview with the Foreign Minister. Talleyrand had consented to see her. They had talked through the afternoon and evening and, presumably, for some part of the night. In fact, she had never again left the Foreign Ministry until she moved with Talleyrand to the Rue Taitbout. Unblushingly he had installed her overnight in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs as his mistress, and from then on she had acted as his official hostess.
' But,' Roger protested, ' in Calcutta people said of her that she was the most stupid woman alive; that her brain is no bigger than a pea and that her whole conversation is sprinkled with absurdities. If that is so, how can a man of Talleyrand's brilliant intellect possibly have put up with her for so long? '
De Montrond laughed. 'You are right. She is the veriest fool, but when questioned about it he replies lightly that " she has the wit of a rose ". Quite seriously, though, he once said to me, " My dear fellow, you need to have been the lover of so intelligent a woman as Madame de Stael to appreciate the joy of having in your bed anyone so silly as Catherine ".'
The sally made Roger laugh, but the thought of Talleyrand's having been bewitched by a beautiful face and body reminded him of how he had himself been bewitched in Cairo by Zanthe. It was now just a year since the October rebellion there, and he had then known nothing of her mental qualities; yet he had risked his whole future with Bonaparte to break into the Viceroy's palace and abduct her.
He still thought of her now and then, sometimes with longing, sometimes with guilt. He considered it probable that, in spite of the blockade, Ouvrard, or some other Parisian banker who had dealings with Sarodopulous, would be able to get a letter from him through to Egypt for her. Yet, anxious as he was to let her know that he had not wilfully deserted her, he could hardly, in the same letter, tell her that he regarded himself as no longer engaged to her.
On the contrary, his conscience told him that he ought to ask her to endeavour to join him in France. Such journeys always had their hazards; but Sarodopulous could arrange a passage for her in a neutral ship, provide her with a suitable escort and furnish her with introductions to bankers of his acquaintance in all the principal ports at which she might have to change ship or be carried to by misadventure, so the chances of her arriving safely in France in two or three months' time were decidedly favourable.
Yet Bonaparte's having arbitrarily freed him from his entanglement seemed to Roger, in his more sober moments, an act of Providence. Much as he delighted in Zanthe, he knew in his heart of hearts that the main basis for their attraction for one another had been an overwhelming physical desire; and the thought that in a few years' time he would have for his wife a large Eastern lady who had run to seed continued to plague him.
There was also the point that, once the current crisis had resolved itself, it was his duty to return to England at the earliest possible moment in order to inform Mr. Pitt about changes of policy that the new Government in France was likely to make. And once home, the very last thing he wanted to do was to leave England again. But he could not ask Zanthe to join him there, because he dared not put on paper his reasons for wishing her
to do so. So if he sent for her at all he would have to return to France to meet her.
Lastly, there was the tricky problem of his dual nationality. She still believed him to be a Frenchman. As nothing would have induced him to spend the rest of his life in France, he would have to tell her the truth about himself. Since she was half French, he had no means of judging how she would take that and, if she did agree to go to England with him, how was he going to get her there? It was one thing for a man like himself to make a clandestine crossing of the Channel in wartime, but quite another to take a woman with him.
All these considerations were inducements to continue to let matters slide; and the long voyage from Egypt, coupled with the excitement of once again being up to the neck in his old work, were inclining him, more and more, to think of her only as one of his loves of the past.
Before he left the reception Talleyrand drew him aside, but only for a few words. Roger confirmed that he now had nothing to fear from Fouche and Talleyrand asked him to breakfast with him two days hence.
Next morning Roger went to the Rue de la Victoire, where he found Bonaparte in a most evil temper. With him were several of the officers who had accompanied him back from Egypt, and all of them had long faces. The reason soon transpired. They had made all speed to Paris, leaving their baggage to follow in wagons. The news had just come through that the whole of it had been captured by brigands. As Roger had left Egypt with only the clothes he stood up in, he could afford to laugh, although he was much too tactful to do so. But the others had all brought rich cashmeres, silks and Eastern perfumes for their women, and jewelled scimitars, armour, saddlery, etc. of considerable value as souvenirs for themselves. With good reason they were cursing the Government that had allowed the country to fail into such a state of open lawlessness.
As Bonaparte's glance fell on Roger he snapped at him, ' Where the devil were you yesterday? You know full well that it was your duty to attend upon me.'
Actually Roger had been far too anxious about what Fouche might do to him to think of anything else, but now he was able to reply with a smile, ' Mon General, I was, as ever, being active in your service.'
' What the hell d'you mean by that? '
'Grant me but a moment in your cabinet, and I will inform you.'
Bonaparte's insatiable craving for information of all kinds could always be counted on. With a jerk of his head, he led the way out of the drawing room and across the passage to the room where he and Bourrienne worked. Closing the door, he asked sharply, 'Well? What is all this mystery?'
Roger lowered his voice. '1 think I can say that I have put the Minister of Police in your pocket.'
' What! Fouche? ' the Corsican exclaimed. ' A most dangerous man.'
'Dangerous to his enemies, but a most powerful friend. No one is in a stronger position to assist you when you launch your coup d'etat.'
' Who said that I intend to launch a coup d'etat? I am a loyal servant of the Government.'
' Of course,' Roger shrugged, ' for as long as it suits you. But in Egypt and during our voyage home you said time and again that, when you got here, you would throw all these fops and puppies into the Seine.'
'Perhaps, but I was not speaking literally. I meant only that the Government needed reconstructing. They have offered me the
Command of any Army I choose; so I might go back to Italy.'
' It is an idea,' Roger agreed. ' And, like Fouche, I might take up pig-farming. I don't think either of us will; but if you feel that I am no longer capable of acting in your best interests, I shall have to consider some other-'
' No, no! ' Bonaparte interrupted swiftly. '1 have every confidence in you. So has Talleyrand. We agreed that if . . . but that is another matter. Tell me about this conversation you had with Fouche.'
' We were discussing the appalling state into which France has fallen and agreed that a change of Government is the only remedy. Your name is on every tongue, so naturally it came up. I said that if you had any plans I knew nothing of them, but was convinced that you were the only man in France strong enough to prevent the country from falling into a state of open anarchy. He was inclined to agree and would like to meet you. If you mean to return to Italy it would be a waste of time, but if you . . . well, you have only to promise him that he shall keep his Ministry and he will observe a benevolent neutrality. I need hardly remark that many a crown has been won or lost owing to the attitude of a Minister of Police.'
' Crowns! No, no! I am a loyal Republican. But you have done well, Breuc, you have done well. Even so, I do not feel that it would be wise for me to meet Fouche yet. So many things are still uncertain, and the stronger the hand I can show him when we do meet the better. Keep him in play for a few days. Tell him I look forward to making his acquaintance but have been asked by the Directors to advise on the reorganization of the Armies, and that for the time being I must give that matter my whole attention.'
Next day, the 21st, Roger breakfasted with Talleyrand. When he had told him how he had spiked Fouche's guns by referring to his overtures to Mitau and what had followed from it, the statesman was both amused and delighted. He said:
' As a soldier, mon vieux, you are entirely wasted. No diplomat could have achieved a finer coup than bringing Fouche over to us. He is the exceptional leopard who is really capable of changing his spots. The thought of his past crimes makes one shudder but I am convinced that, like the convert to Rome, now that he has achieved respectability he is likely to become more of an anti-Jacobin than any of us. His closing of their club was the first evidence of it. I was hoping to win his support for Bonaparte and you have paved the way for that most admirably. As far as the little General is concerned, I regret to say I have found him far from certain of himself; but one cannot blame him for being cautious, and perhaps it is as well that he should have declined a meeting with Fouche for the moment/
Dabbing rich Brittany butter on a croissant, Talleyrand went on, '1 asked you here this morning because, if you are to be of maximum value to us, you must be informed of what has so far gone on behind the scenes. As you know, greatly against the will of the Directors, Sieyes was elected to fill Rewbell's place last May. Although it is not generally known, that was my doing. I secretly buttonholed every Deputy who I believed wished for an end to the devilish uncertainties that beset us, and urged upon them that Sieyes was the only man capable of directing a stable Government.'
' Why Sieyes? ' Roger asked. ' He is timid, and clever only at saving his own skin. He would run a mile rather than take any decisive action. It surprises me that you should choose such a weak tool for your business.'
Talleyrand smiled. ' Dear friend, you have yet quite a lot to learn. The majority of successful revolutions are made not from without, but from within. However impracticable Sieyds's ideas may be, he has persuaded nearly everybody that he has long had a Utopian Constitution in his pocket. Being eaten up with vanity as he is, it was a certainty that, as soon as he was given power, he would not be able to resist the itch to foist his unwieldy child upon the nation. What is more, believing him to be a wizard, the public would support him in any steps he took to do so.
' The first step was to hack away the dead wood in the Directory. By the bloodless coup d'etat of Prairial we got rid of three of them; but unfortunately things did not go quite as well as we had hoped. The Deputies landed us with Gohier, Moulins and Roger Ducos. The first two may give us some trouble; but the situation was at least improved by the inclusion of Ducos, because he is another trimmer and will follow Sieyes's lead in everything.
' By then, Sieyes was burning to give birth to his ponderous brain-child, but he at least has sufficient sense to realize that for that business he needs a capable midwife. To quote his own words, "What the nation needs is a brain and a sword." He, of course, was to be the brain; but who the sword?
' His first thought was of young Joubert. A good soldier and a sensible man; but he had never directed a victorious campaign, so it was doubtful if the Army
could be counted on to support him. It was in the hope that he would win for himself suitable laurels that we sent him to supersede Moreau in Italy. But, as you know, he met only with defeat.and was killed at Novi.
' Sieyes's next choice was Moreau. His brow was already heavy with laurels won on the Rhine and elsewhere. His popularity as a General is beyond question; but he is no politician. He proved as timid about taking any action that might lead to his being outlawed as Sieyes is himself. When the news arrived of Bonaparte's having landed at Frejus, Moreau was with Sieyes and he exclaimed with relief, '' Here is your man! "'
Roger nodded and asked, ' How are they getting on together? '
Talleyrand threw up his hands and raised his eyes to heaven. ' Getting on! They have not yet even met. Between them they are driving me to distraction. The two of them are behaving like two old dowagers whose arms have the same number of quarterings. Each considers it to be beneath his dignity to be the first to call upon the other.'
'1 no longer wonder, then, that I found our little man in such a state of uncertainty when I spoke to him about Fouche. He even talked about going off to take command of the Army in Italy; although I feel sure he does not mean to.'
' No, he will not do that. At the moment he is angling to have himself made a Director.'
' Since he is only thirty, and the lowest age at which one can qualify is forty, he would first have to get passed an amendment to the Constitution.'
'Exactly, and his chances of doing that are negligible. The Jacobins would oppose it tooth and nail; and so would Gohier and Moulins. They would never agree to have him as one of them.'
' Then it seems things have come to a stalemate.'
' Yes. Four precious days have already been lost, and his refusal to meet either Sieyes or Fouche is deplorable. Somehow I must bring him and Sieyes together. In the meantime, I pray you do your utmost to nurse Fouche and prevent him from getting the idea that he has been cold-shouldered.'
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