' Nay, you have done much. I know you for an Englishman by birth, but you have ever put your trust in me and aided me whenever possible. Besides, was it not you who pushed Bonaparte out on to the balcony at St. Cloud? But for that neither he nor we would be here tonight. Tomorrow morning come to my Ministry. I will then give you this, and all the papers necessary for your journey to London.'
' To London! ' Roger exclaimed.
' Why, yes,' Talleyrand smiled. ' Who could be more suitable than yourself to carry this message of goodwill to England? When I suggested it to our little man, he at once agreed. You will travel in a frigate flying a flag of truce, as our Envoy Extraordinary to the Court of St. James.'
Roger could hardly believe that he was not dreaming. He had taken the Great Risk and had again proved right in doing so. But that he was to be the bearer of this wonderful news was a triumph beyond anything for which he had ever hoped.
He stammered his thanks and they continued talking for a further ten minutes, then Talleyrand said he thought the time had come when they ought to show themselves again.
As they were about to re-enter the ballroom they approached a tall, handsome, fair-haired man, standing alone near the wall. In a low voice Talleyrand said to Roger, ' That is the Baron von Haugwitz, the new Prussian Ambassador. He has just been transferred from London and presented his credentials only this morning. From a talk with him you might gather useful information of recent developments in the English capital.'
Talleyrand made the introduction, bowed and moved away. Roger opened the conversation by saying that he knew London well and hoped that while His Excellency had been en poste there he had found life pleasant.
The Baron, who found himself very much a fish out of water in this strange new French society, was delighted to talk about the three years he had spent in England. For a while they talked of the Government and British foreign policy, then of Vauxhall Gardens, Cremorne and the social whirl of London. Roger then asked a question that he had had in mind for several minutes.
' Did Your Excellency perchance make the acquaintance of the Countess of St. Ermins? '
' Why, yes,' replied the Baron. ' A most lovely lady and one with an enchanting wit. She moves much in political and diplomatic circles, and at her house in Berkeley Square I met many interesting people.'
Roger gave an inaudible sigh of relief. Georgina had not then remarried, otherwise the Baron either would not have known her by her old title, or would have told him of her marriage.
But the Prussian's face became grave as he went on, ' Alas, when I left London, all Lady St. Ermins's friends were greatly concerned for her. She has two children. They caught scarlet fever and she contracted it from them. In children, the disease is not as a rule dangerous. But in an adult it can be fatal. It was feared that Her Ladyship might die of it.'
The following afternoon Roger was driving towards Calais with all the speed that six good horses could give a well-sprung coach. With him were a middle-aged Foreign Office official named Broussalt, whom Talleyrand had nominated to advise Roger on protocol, a secretary and a valet, also provided by Talleyrand.
As the coach bounded along the rutty roads, Roger could think of only one thing. Beautiful Zanthe had gone from his mind like yesterday's ten thousand years. Even the fact that he carried Peace in his pocket and had achieved the greatest triumph of his career meant nothing to him now. His beloved Georgina, the one woman in the world who really mattered to him, had been stricken by a fell disease and lay in danger of her life. She might even by now be dead.
At that terrible thought he groaned aloud. Broussalt anxiously enquired what ailed him. He brusquely replied that it was the bumping of the coach but, when the others pleaded with him to order the postilion to reduce the pace, he would not hear of it.
By using his powers unscrupulously to deprive other travellers of their relays, by threatening laggard Postmasters with the loss of their positions, by bribes, curses and twice using across men's shoulders the riding switch he carried, he kept the coach hurtling through the night, so that his companions, now hungry because he refused to stop for meals, thought that they had been saddled with a madman.
He performed the seemingly impossible at that time, and reached Calais in twenty hours. Driving straight to the Port Authority, he presented his credentials and demanded the immediate use of the fastest vessel in the harbour. In vain Broussalt remonstrated with him that it was beneath the dignity of an Envoy Extraordinary to sail in anything less han a twenty-gun frigate. Neither of the frigates in Calais Roads could be made ready to sail before night; but a Revenue cutter was about to drop down to Boulogne, so he commandeered it and went aboard.
Since Britain and France were at war, the French Embassy in London was closed and empty. Therefore, the proper procedure would have been for the vessel carrying him to sail up the Thames and anchor in the Pool below the Tower, so that she could be used as a temporary Embassy. But Roger knew well that, if the wind were unfavourable, a day or more could be lost while tacking up the twisting bends of the river; so he ordered the Captain of the cutter to land him at Dover.
Fortunately the weather was mild, so the crossing was smooth and took less than three hours. Five miles out from the English coast they were challenged by a frigate; but they ran up the white flag with the Tricolour, and the frigate escorted them into Dover harbour.
There, Roger told Broussalt that it was his intention to go to London by road. He then ordered him to remain in the cutter and arrange for it to be escorted round to the Pool, where it was to await his pleasure.
The unhappy official threw his hands in the air and turned up his eyes to heaven. It was, he declared, unheard of for an Envoy Extraordinary to arrive unaccompanied at a foreign capital. The loss of prestige! What would the English think of them? He might have argued with a stone statue for all the satisfaction he got. Roger told him that the the First Consul did not have a red carpet put down before giving battle and that he, Roger, needed no frills to aid him in conducting the mission upon which he had been sent.
By the time he landed it was five o'clock and already dark. He was received by a group of officers, all extremely curious to know his business. Now he had to be careful and remember that he was supposed to be a Frenchman; so he told them in broken English that he carried letters for the Foreign Secretary and wished to be conveyed to London with all possible speed.
But at Dover he was subjected to infuriating delays. First he had to explain his business to an Admiral, then he was taken up to the castle and kept waiting there for over an hour before being interviewed by an elderly. General. After asking a score of questions, the majority of which were quite irrelevant, the General said he thought it would be best if Roger remained at Dover until London had been notified of his arrival and instructions received about him.'
At that Roger had great difficulty in keeping his temper. But, with a heavy accent, he said icily, 'You appear to mistake me, Monsieur le General, for a prisoner-of-war. I am nothing of the kind. I am a diplomatic representative and, unless you treat me as such, I shall make complaint of you to your Duke of York.'
Having no desire to risk the displeasure of his Commander-in-Chief, the General grumpily agreed to send Roger to London that night. He was given a good meal, then set off in a coach. A Captain Denistoun rode with him and he was accompanied by a mounted escort.
The roads in England were infinitely better than those in France so, although they travelled fairly fast, the going was not too rough to prevent Roger from dozing for a good part of the way. They reached London very early in the morning. Rousing as the coach rumbled along the Old Kent Road, Roger asked Denistoun whether he was taking him direct to the Foreign Office.
' No,' replied he Captain. ' As yet nobody there will have risen. My orders are to leave you in charge of the Officer of the Guard at the Horse Guards, then report your arrival to Lord Grenville as soon as he is available.'
That was more or less what Roger had expected.
He then told Denistoun that before the war he had lived for some time in London and that he had heard just before leaving Paris that a great friend of his, the Countess of St. Ermins, was dangerously ill; so he was anxious to enquire about her.
The Captain agreed that they should call at the St. Ermins mansion in Berkeley Square. When they reached it the blinds were down. Roger, dreading the worst, was almost incoherent with distress; but Denistoun, fearing some trick by this 'frog-eater ' of whom he had been given charge, would not let him leave the coach. Instead he got out, knocked up the house and himself made enquiries from a sleepy footman.
He returned to say that Lady St. Ermins was at Stillwaters, her country home in Surrey. The servants in Berkeley Square had had no news of her for the past two days; but they were greatly worried, as it was feared that she would not recover from her illness.
Roger breathed again. At least she had still been alive the previous day, or they would have been sent news of her death. Now he must get to Stillwaters at the earliest possible moment. After some argument, on the plea that his business was of the utmost urgency, he persuaded Denistoun to take him straight to the Foreign Office.
By then it was seven o'clock. The Groom of the Chambers, who happened to be in the hall on their arrival, told them that His Lordship was not yet up, but was taking his morning chocolate in bed. Roger asked for pen, ink, paper and sealing wax, then wrote a brief note, which ran:
My Lord,
I pray you, show no recognition on receiving me. I am come to London under escort as Envoy Extraordinary from General Bonaparte. My business is most urgent, so I beg you to receive me without delay.
Having signed the note with his own name he sealed it, slipped a gold louis into the palm of the Groom of the Chambers and asked him to take it up. Five minutes later he was taken upstairs and shown into the Foreign Secretary's bedroom.
Lord Grenville was by nature a cold man and as little given to showing emotion as his cousin the Prime Minister. But on this occasion he did express surprise and his greeting was warm. Without a moment's delay Roger plunged into his business. Producing two letters, he said:
' My Lord, I bring great news. General Bonaparte has now been elected First Consul of the French Republic, with virtually dictatorial powers, and he desires Peace. This letter gives expression to his sentiments. The other is from M. de Talleyrand, who is again Foreign Minister, and it sets out the basic terms upon which the French are prepared to negotiate.'
1 Overtures for Peace! ' Grenville exclaimed, taking the first letter. ' And from the Corsican, of all people! I can scarce believe it.' Breaking the seals of Bonaparte's letter, he opened it and quickly read it through. As he laid it down on the counterpane, he said:
' It has the air of honesty and must receive our most earnest consideration. As soon as I have risen I will take it to the Prime Minister.'
' How soon can Your Lordship expect to hand me a reply? * Roger asked.
Grenville considered for a moment. ' It must be laid before His Majesty, and my colleagues in the Cabinet must be given time to consider the terms that are proposed. Three days should suffice. Today is the 28th, a meeting of the Cabinet could be called for the morning of the 31st, I could let you know the result that afternoon.'
' Until then, my Lord, I pray you to excuse me. Most urgent private affairs claim my attention. I pray you, too, to relieve me of my watchdog, a Captain Denistoun, who waits below, and also to lend me a horse. I must at once ride down into Surrey.'
The Foreign Secretary made a mild protest, as he would have liked Roger to remain with him for some time and give him the latest news from France; but, seeing Roger's extreme agitation, he rang his bell and gave the orders that had been requested of him. A quarter of an hour later Roger was on his way out of London.
The village of Ripley, near which Stillwaters lay, was no more than twenty-five miles distant. Roger was now very tired. It was over forty-eight hours since he had had a chance to do more than doze, and for more than half that time he had been swaying from side to side in fast-driven coaches. Yet his desperate anxiety gave him the energy to fight down fatigue, and he reached Stillwaters soon after ten o'clock.
Throwing the reins of his horse over a stone vase, he ran up the steps and into the hall. A footman, carrying a tray, was crossing it. White-faced, Roger shouted at him:
'Her Ladyship! Is she alive? Is she alive? '
The man nodded. ' Yes, sir; but, alas, very low.'
' Is Colonel Thursby here? '
' Yes, sir. He is up in Her Ladyship's boudoir.*
Roger mounted the stairs three at a time and burst into the room. Georgina's father looked up with a start. He had been another father to Roger and Georgina was the greatest treasure in the world to both of them. Coming to his feet, the Colonel exclaimed:
' Roger! Dear boy, how glad I am to see you. But you find us in dire distress.'
' How is she? ' Roger gasped.
The Colonel shook his head. ' Alas, we now have little hope for her. It was scarlet fever. But you must have heard. She caught it from the children. They, thank God, are-now fully recovered. But for an adult the disease is serious; or rather, its after-effects.'
' May I see her? '
' Yes. But she will not recognize you. She is in a coma.'
They went next door, into the big bedroom. Georgina was lying in her great canopied bed, pale as a corpse. Jenny, her faithful maid, her eyes red with weeping, was sitting beside her. Turning down the sheet, Roger took Georgina's wrist and felt her pulse. Looking across at the Colonel, he groaned, ' It hardly beats.'
Tears welled up into the Colonel's tired eyes. '1 know it. I fear she is sinking fast.'
' She is so deathly pale,' Roger murmured. ' Did they purge and bleed her? They must have, for her vitality to be so low.'
' Yes. They did it to reduce the fever. It is the usual practice, as you must know.'
' Then the fools bled her too much,' cried Roger furiously. ' It is lack of blood from which she is dying. Upon what are you feeding her? '
' A little milk is all that she can take.'
With an impatient shake of his head, Roger cried, ' Tis not milk she needs but iron.'
' Iron? ' repeated the Colonel, with a puzzled look.'
' Yes. While on my travels I learned that iron is the sovereign remedy for loss of blood. In many aspects of medicine, the peoples of the East are more knowledgeable than ourselves; for among them the learning of the ancient Greeks has not been smothered by Christian taboos and monkish superstition. When I was residing in Alexandria with the Greek banker Sarodopulous, one of his servants attempted to commit suicide by cutting her wrists with a knife. Before she was found and her wounds bound up, she had lost so much blood that she certainly would have died had they not promptly forced her to swallow all the iron she could stomach.'
' But, my dear boy, one can neither eat nor drink iron. How is it possible to administer it to a patient? '
' I'll show you. But let's not waste a moment.' Roger turned to Jenny. ' Quick. Run downstairs. Get me a bottle of Claret and a large pewter mug.'
As Jenny ran from Jhe room, Roger said to the Colonel, ' The Greeks heat an old sword or dagger in the fire until it is red hot, then plunge it into the wine. Among the ignorant, this practice has come to be regarded as magic, owing to the symbolical union of virtue and strength giving the potion life-saving properties; but in fact it is the essence of the iron entering the wine that fortifies the body and makes new blood. To use a weapon is unnecessary. Any piece of iron that has a roughened surface will serve our purpose.'
Crossing the room, Roger seized the poker and thrust it into the heart of the glowing log fire.
A few minutes later Jenny came bustling in with a pint tankard already filled with Claret. Impatiently they waited until the end of the poker was red hot, then Roger took it from the fire and plunged it into the wine. The liquid hissed and bubbled fiercely. When it had settled down, he withdrew the poker and put
it back into the fire until it was again red hot. Three times he repeated the process, then with a spoon tasted the mulled wine to test its heat. Satisfied that if each spoonful was first blown upon it would not burn Georgina's mouth, he carried the tankard over to her bedside and, while Jenny held her mistress's head, he carefully fed a dozen spoonsful between her pale lips.
When they had done, Roger said to the Colonel, '1 have come at all speed from Paris and am near the end of my tether. If I do not get to bed soon I'll drop; so I pray you to excuse me. As you have seen, the preparation of the potion presents no difficulty. I'll leave you to give Georgina a further dozen spoonsful of a new brew every hour, then, when I am restored by a few hours' sleep, I will rejoin you.'
Jenny gave him a pale smile. ' Seeing how fatigued you looked on your arrival, sir, when I went downstairs for the wine I told them to get your usual room ready at once. By now there should be a fire lit there and a warming pan in the bed.'
6 Bless you for a good, thoughtful girl, Jenny,' Roger smiled back. Then he left them, crossed Georgina's boudoir to the bedroom beyond it, struggled out of his clothes and at last relaxed between the warm sheets.
For the next five hours he lay as though dead himself, then he was roused by Colonel Thursby, who said, ' The doctor is here, Roger, and I have told him about the method by which we are endeavouring to save our dear Georgina. I woke you only because I felt you might wish to discuss her condition with him.'
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Roger murmured, '1 see nothing to discuss; but I welcome the opportunity to tell him that if she dies it will be through his excessive application of leeches, and for that I'll kill him.'
' Nay,' the Colonel shook his head. ' Be not too hard upon him, Roger. He is a very decent man and has done only what any other practitioner would have done in a case where it was necessary to bring down a high fever. Moreover, he takes no umbrage, as many others would have done, at you, a layman, having arbitrarily decreed a treatment of your own for his patient. Indeed, he expressed interest in your belief in the efficacy of iron to make blood.'
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