The wanton princess rb-8

by Dennis Wheatley

  Colonel Lafont still sat moaning on the hearth with his hand over his torn ear. De Neuville had not entered the fray but remained guarding the door. Dc la Touche now hung back, evidently unwilling to risk serious injury. It was Roger's chance and he took it.

  The bottom of the tall window was only a foot from the floor. Thrusting one leg over he dropped the poker, grasped the sill with both hands and swung himself out. Giving a swift glance down he was appalled. To the pavement below was a drop of fifteen feet. If he let go it seemed certain that he would either break his neck or a leg.

  Then he saw that only a yard to the right of the window and a few feet below it there projected from the wall an iron bracket holding a lantern that lit the entrance to the club. For a second he wondered whether it would bear his weight, then decided that he must chance that. Shifting his grip on the sill, he swung himself sideways, grasped the bracket and lowered himself to it. But he was still twelve feet above the street level. Yet worse—another quick look downward showed him that he was now hanging immediately over a row of spiked railings on one side of the steps that led up to the door of the club. If he let go his hold he would be impaled upon them.

  His breath coming in gasps he hung there, his mind fraught with terrible indecision. He could still climb back and sur­render to his enemies. He had no doubt they meant to kill him, but to let himself drop might also mean death; or, at least, terrible injuries.

  A moment later he was given no option. De la Touche was leaning out of the window, an evil grin on his shifty coun­tenance and his dagger in his hand. He made a slash at Roger's fingers. Instinctively Roger let go of the iron bracket.

  As he plunged downward terror seized him. In his vivid imagination he could already feel the iron spikes piercing his flesh and smashing his bones. Ten seconds later he was brought up with a violent jerk. He had missed being impaled by a fraction of an inch. The spikes had penetrated under his flying coat tails, ripped through the back of his coat and left him suspended by its thick collar.

  For a moment he hung there. Then he realized that his feet, beneath bent legs, were resting on the steps up to the club. From inside it there came the sound of excited shouts. Although every minute of the desperate encounter he had just survived had seemed like five to him, he knew that it could have occupied only a very short time; so the shouts and crash of glass in the room above had not drawn attention to the fact that there was trouble there until it was almost over. But by now the other occupants of the club must be up there seeking an explanation.

  To accuse his attackers of an attempt to kidnap and later murder him could serve no useful purpose, and to lend himself to an enquiry into the affair by their compatriots might even prove dangerous. So, bracing his legs, he wrenched at his coat until he had torn himself free of the railings, then staggered off round the square until he came upon an unoccupied sedan chair that carried him back to Amesbury House.

  Next morning, knowing himself to be now a marked man, and that as long as he remained in London the conspirators would do their utmost to trace him. then stick at nothing to prevent his return to France, he said good-bye to Droopy and set out for Walmer.

  That evening he informed Mr. Pitt of all that had taken place and, as he had hoped, his old master agreed to place at his disposal one of his cutters manned by Sea Fenciblcs, as the quickest way for him to get back to France. He sailed in it that night and shortly before dawn on the 12th the cutler put him ashore in a quiet cove some miles south of Boulogne. Soon after he had landed he had a narrow escape from being caught by a beach patrol, but he succeeded in evading it and on the morning of the 14th was back in Paris.

  After sleeping through most of the day at La Belle Etoile, he rode out that night to St. Cloud and made his report to Talleyrand. His old friend listened with much concern to his account of the danger to which by an ill chance he had been exposed, then congratulated him warmly on having pene­trated the conspiracy.

  Over a tete-a-tete supper, worthy of them both, they dis­cussed the matter at length and agreed that, as Roger had not secured sufficient details of the plot to nip it in the bud, the probability was that it would be proceeded with. Although Fouche was still out of office Talleyrand was of the opinion that he, and the agents he continued to employ, were much more likely to get to the bottom of the affair than were Savary's regular police. He said he would seek the co­operation of that subtle master-mind the following day and ask its unprepossessing owner to endeavour to discover the where­abouts of Cadoudal, the Abbe David and M. Querelle and to have a close watch kept on General Lajolais.

  They then speculated on which of the Bourbon Princes had been selected to make a dash for Paris, take over from General Moreau and act as Regent until the Comte de Provence could reach the capital and be proclaimed as Louis XVIII.

  The legitimate choice was his younger brother, the Comte d'Artois; and it was known that he had spent long periods on v the Isle of Yeu, off the Brittany coast, under the protection of the English, so that he could be swiftly landed in France in the event of a successful counter-revolution. But Charles d'Arlois was a lazy, pleasure-loving man and Talleyrand who had known him well in pre-Revolution days, thought it un­likely that lie would risk putting his head into a noose if there was the least possibility of it closing on him.

  The Prince dc Conde seemed a better bet, as it was he who had commanded the army of Royalist exiles on the Rhine and done all he could to aid the Austrians in their war against Revolutionary France. But in recent years his army had withered away, many of the exiled nobles having made their peace with Napoleon, and others having left it to settle as civilians in the German cities. So the Prince had become dispirited and was no longer looked on by the Monarchists as a leader of promise. It might, however, be the Prince's son, the Due d'Enghien. He was a handsome and vigorous young man in his early thirties with a dashing personality and likely to have a strong appeal to the French people.

  Another possibility was d'Artois' son, the twenty-six-year-old Due de Berri; but he was living in Italy, so it would not be possible for him to enter France overnight, and for a coup d'etat to prove successful swift action was essential.

  Lastly there was Louis Philippe, Due d'Orleans, who was living at Twickenham near London. But his side of the Bourbon family had ever been a thorn in the side of the senior branch. His father had even gone to the length of siding with the Revolutionaries, laying down his title and calling himself, 'Philippe Egalitd' then, as a member of the Convention, voting for the death of his cousin, Louis XVI. Roger had later taken considerable pleasure in being instru­mental in getting him sent to the guillotine. They decided that for the Monarchists to choose a prince with such antecedents was very unlikely.

  The next day Roger reported back to Napoleon, who abruptly enquired the reason for Talleyrand's having re­quested the loan of him. Not feeling that he could refuse, Roger gave an account of his mission, but he did so with reluctance as he felt sure that Napoleon would instruct Savary to go into the affair, and feared that the heavy-handed Minister of Police might ruin the investigation of the infinitely more skilful Fouche.

  When he had done Napoleon laughed, tweaked Roger's ear and said, 'What a man you are, Breuc. You are worth half a dozen of my other beaux sabreurs.' Then, with a sudden change of mood, he added, 'Moreau is a fine soldier but a fool politically; and as he hates me it is quite likely that he

  will be idiot enough to allow himself to be drawn into this conspiracy. As for this Prince who is to play the part of Viceroy until the Comte de Provence can be brought from Mittau, if we catch him I'll make such an example of him as no other Bourbon will ever forget.'

  During the month that followed Roger saw both Talley­rand and Fouchc several times and they kept him informed of the progress of the conspiracy which, as he had expected, was going forward. Cadoudal, it was learned, had again been landed at Biville on January 14th and was believed to be in Paris but could not be traced. On the 24th, by having the Abb6 David shadowed, P
ichegru was found to have arrived in the capital, and on the evening of the 27th he was seen to meet Moreau, accompanied by General Lajolais, apparently by accident, in the Boulevard de la Madeleine; but after only a few minutes' conversation they went their respective ways. There followed four lengthy secret conferences for which they met in private houses; so it was now clear that the victor of Hohenlinden had been drawn into the conspiracy. Then, on the 15th February Savary jeopardized all prospect of allowing the affair to ripen until all the conspirators could be caught in the net by arresting Monsieur Querelle.

  In an attempt to save himself Querelle gave away the addresses at which Cadoudal and Pichegru were in hiding. But, taking alarm at Querelle's arrest, both had swiftly vacated their lodgings. However, on the 29th Pichegru, given away by a treacherous friend, was seized while in bed in his house. Ten days later a series of domiciliary visits to suspects led to the finding of Cadoudal and, after a desperate resis­tance, he was carried off to prison. There followed the arrest of the Due de Polignac, the Marquis de Riviere, who had come over with Pichegru, Lajolais and a number of the lesser conspirators.

  Moreau had continued to reside openly at his house out­side Paris so could be picked up at any time; but there remained the problem of the unidentified Bourbon Prince. Napoleon was anxious that he, above all. should be caught and, believing him to be the Comte d'Artois, had despatched Savary to Biville to lie in wait for him when he landed. Captain Wright's vessel was lying off the coast and appro­priate messages purporting to come from the conspirators were sent off to her. But either the Prince was not on board or had already had intelligence that things had gone wrong in Paris.

  Meanwhile numerous agents had been keeping a close watch on the other Princes. During Savary's absence, some of those acting for his opposite number Real, Fouché's old lieutenant, had sent in a report that the young Due d'Enghien was engaged in highly suspicious activities. He had chosen Baden as his place of exile and lived at Ettenheim, not far from the Rhine, and was said in recent months to have made frequent secret trips across it to Strassburg, which was in French territory.

  The failure of d'Artois to appear led at once to the sup­position that he was not, after all, the selected nominal head of the conspiracy, and that d'Enghien's visits to Strassburg were to make preparations for a dash to Paris. As a further indication that he was their man it was reported that he had staying with him at Ettenheim a Colonel Smith, who had just come from London, and General Dumouriez. This last was a particularly damning piece of information, for Dumouriez, before becoming disgusted with the excesses of the Revolution and going over to the English, had been a brilliant and popular General; so he was just the man to rally the troops in north-eastern France to the Monarchist cause.

  Napoleon, assuming that from that quarter he might now expect really serious trouble, flew into one of his great rages, summoned a Privy Council and declared his intention of cutting the ground from beneath the conspirators' feet by striking first: he would send a raiding force into Baden to seize the Duke.

  Both his fellow Consuls opposed the plan, pointing out that this violation of neutral territory would arouse a shocking outcry among the nations and, possibly, embroil France with both Germany and Russia. But Talleyrand said he was confident that he could appease the Margrave and

  Fouche, who was also present, expressed the opinion that they ought to take this opportunity of crushing the hopes of the monarchists once and for all. In consequence, as usual, the First Consul got his way.

  After the conference Napoleon sent for General Ordener, told him what was required and ordered him to proceed at once with a small force to the Rhine opposite Ettenheim. Roger happened to be on duty in the anteroom to the Cabinet and was standing just outside the door as Ordener emerged from it. Catching sight of him, Napoleon beckoned him and called to Ordener to come back. Then he said to Roger:

  'Breuc, you were among the first to secure for us infor­mation about the Royalist conspiracy. As a reward you shall witness the end of it. You may go with Ordener on the mission I have just given him. He will tell you about it.'

  Much intrigued and having thanked his master, Roger left the Palace with the General, was told what was afoot, and arranged to set out from Paris with him that afternoon. Shortly before midday on March 14th they reached Strasburg and held a conference with Real's agents, who knew the exact location of d'Enghien's house and would accompany them on their kidnapping expedition. After having dined they slept for some hours then, at ten o'clock in the evening, started on their twenty-mile ride along the left bank of the Rhine.

  On arriving at the village of Rhinau they rested their horses and ate a snack they had brought with them. At about two in the morning, they were put across the river in relays by the village ferry. They had only a further seven miles to go and found Ettenheim dark and deserted. The agents led them to the small chateau in which d'Enghien resided. Ordener had his troopers surround it, then ordered two of his N.C.O.s to break in the door.

  The noise they made roused the household and when Ordener and Roger went inside they were met by the young Duke, partially dressed, coming downstairs with a drawn sword in his hand. The General told him that he had orders from the First Consul to arrest him for having as an exile made illegal entries into French territory.

  D'Enghien now broke into violent protests and claimed immunity from arrest by virtue of his being on foreign soil. Ordener refused to listen, upon which the Duke put himself on guard and declared his intention of defending himself. But by this time there were half a dozen troopers standing in the hall and the shocked friends with whom d'Enghicn was living persuaded him that resistance was useless.

  While, under supervision, he dressed and packed a small valise, Real's agents searched the house and confiscated all the papers they could find. The Duke was then led out and mounted on a spare horse; but he insisted on taking his dog with him, so the animal was handed up to be carried by him on his saddle bow. Shortly before dawn the cavalcade recrossed the Rhine and by eight o'clock on the 15th they were back in Strasburg.

  Real had arrived and that afternoon, in the presence of Ordener and Roger, set about questioning their prisoner. Accused of conspiracy to assassinate the First Consul he showed amazement and indignantly denied even knowing that such a plot was afoot. At the suggestion that General Dumouriez and Colonel Smith had come over to join him he laughed and replied:

  'What nonsense. The Colonel who was staying with me was not named Smith but Schmidt, and lives in Frankfurt. As to Dumouriez, I can only suppose that some stupid agent has reported that I often spend an hour or two with the old Marquis dc Thumery, who lives in Ettenhcim, as when pro­nounced with a heavy German accent that name sounds rather like Dumouriez.'

  Real had also received information from a servant at the dc Polignacs' that a mysterious stranger had paid several visits to their house and that both his master and the Marquis dc Riviere had risen to receive him and paid him the sort of respect that they would have shown to a Prince of the Blood; but d'Enghien stoutly denied having ever been in Paris since the Revolution, when he was still in his teens.

  Questioned about his visits to Strassburg, he did not deny having made them but disclosed their reason only with reluctance when impressed with the seriousness of his situa­tion. It then emerged that he was in love with the Princesse Charlotte de Rohan who lived in that city. His visits had been to see her and, occasionally, to take her to the theatre.

  Roger was greatly impressed by the young Duke's open countenance and frank manner; so he formed the opinion that Real's agents had stumbled on a mare's nest and that d'Enghien was in danger of becoming their innocent victim. After the interrogation he said so to Real, but the Police Chief and Ordener replied that it was not their business to act as judges in the matter. They had orders to convey the Duke to Paris and consign him to the fortress of Vincennes; so must carry them out.

  Much troubled, when the calvacade set off next morning for the capital, Roger d
ecided to remain behind and carry out a further investigation. First he waited upon the Princess de Rohan whom, having heard of her lover's arrest, he found in great distress. Crossing herself, she assured him on oath that, to the best of her belief, the Duke was not the least interested in politics, that his visits to Strassburg had been only to see her and she felt certain that within recent months he had never been to Paris.

  That night Roger again crossed the Rhine. His German was sufficiently good to pass muster in that area that had so often changed Sovereigns and a great part of the population was of mixed Franco-German descent. During the following day he made cautious enquiries which confirmed d'Enghien's statement that the friend who had stayed with him was a Colonel Schmidt and that a Marquis dc Thumery had a small property near the little town.

  Convinced now that the young Prince was innocent, he returned to Strasburg, secured a fresh mount and rode all out for Paris, arriving on the morning of March 20th. At the Tuilerics he learned that Napoleon was at Malmaison so, after a meal and freshening himself up, he went on there.

  To his request for an audience the reply was returned that the First Consul was heavily engaged, but was leaving for St. Cloud that evening and would receive him there the following day. An instinct telling him that the matter was urgent, he asked for Josephine and she had him brought to her in a small closet where she often spent an hour or more arranging the flowers in which she so greatly delighted.

  Swiftly, Roger informed her of the matter that was worry­ing him so much. Putting down the loose flowers she held, she turned to him and he saw that her big brown eyes were gravely troubled as she said:

  'I believe you right. Even Real now admits that his agents may have been mistaken. But the First Consul is adamant. He insists that d'Enghien must be tried; and by a court martial in secret. Yesterday he ordered Murat, as Governor of Paris, to convene a Court. I am told Murat was furious and declared that to bring the Duke to trial on such slender evidence would be a stain upon his uniform. Napoleon replied that he would do as he was ordered or forfeit his post. In the park here I pleaded with him myself to give up this wicked idea of making d'Enghien a scapegoat for the malice of the other Bourbon Princes; but he would not listen to me. He brushed my appeal aside, replying only, "Go away. You are a child; you do not understand public duties."'