The Twisted Sword

by Winston Graham

  ‘Something like that. Mlle de la Blache also helped my wife with her shopping.’

  ‘And no doubt to leave Paris before you returned?’

  ‘On that,’ said Ross, ‘you are better informed than I am. I only know my wife and family left Paris about the 19th – fortunately, it seems.’

  ‘Oh I am sure we would have allowed her to go free. Such a pretty woman.’

  ‘So by what right do you prevent me from going free?’

  ‘Monsieur, we know you to be a spy!’

  ‘I have repeatedly asked your guard to allow me to see my Ambassador.’

  ‘Alas, he fled from Paris at the end of last month with his tail between his legs. No doubt he has rejoined ex-King Louis. England has not recognized the Emperor, so is not represented in France now. Your Embassy is closed.’

  ‘Then I request to see the Emperor.’

  ‘Alas, he is too busy attending to affairs of state and attempting to create some order out of the chaos left by eleven months of Bourbon misrule.’

  ‘Does he know I am being detained here without trial?’

  ‘I have no idea, monsieur.’

  ‘I think he must be aware – and you must be aware – that if he wishes to maintain friendly relations with England it is impolitic to imprison one of their nationals, especially one attached to the Embassy.’

  ‘I do not think the Emperor would wish to be bothered with such trifles.’

  ‘All the same I do not think he would approve of his minor officials – such as Fouché and yourself – keeping a British national in internment out of petty spite.’

  Tallien lit a cigarillo. He did not offer one to Ross.

  When the smoke had cleared he said: ‘Do you complain of your treatment here?’

  ‘I complain of my imprisonment!’

  ‘But you are housed and fed, provided with an hour’s exercise a day and the Paris newspapers.’

  ‘I complain of my imprisonment.’

  ‘Do you want a woman? One can be supplied if you wish.’

  ‘Thank you, no.’

  ‘Well, I can understand anyone would be a trifle hard to please who had had Lady Poldark in his bed.’

  Ross did not reply. He took a couple of gentle breaths to keep his temper. He heard Tallien get up but did not look round. Presumably this sally was the end of the interview.

  At the door Tallien said: ‘You realize, monsieur, that you have only to tell us everything you know of Mlle de la Blache and you will be set free.’

  ‘May I ask what has happened to Colonel de la Blache?’

  ‘Like his sister, he has escaped – leaving lesser men to pay the bill.’

  Ross sighed. ‘I have told you repeatedly what little I know of the de la Blaches. If I told you more I would have to invent it. This condition you make is really a ruse on your part to exact a cheap and stupid revenge. I would have thought any honest Frenchman would have been ashamed of it.’

  Tallien blew smoke. Suddenly Ross would have liked his pipe but he would not say so.

  ‘I have consulted with my colleagues,’ Tallien said. ‘The feeling is that if you refuse to co-operate you should be moved from Paris. The proper sort of accommodation is not available here. You will be moved next week. But of course you know,’ he added with a sly smile, ‘freedom is always open to you.’

  ‘You know it is not,’ Ross said.

  Chapter Three

  I

  Demelza returned with her family to England in April. She had wanted to leave before, but Jeremy and Cuby pressed her to stay, arguing that they stood as good a chance of learning something of Ross’s situation in Brussels as in London. She might have heeded their opinions if conditions had been less confused, but everything had been thrown into the melting pot. King Louis was at Ghent, some new man called Stewart had been appointed British Ambassador at his depleted Court. And it was indeed depleted, for of the four thousand French men and women who had accompanied him in flight only two hundred had been allowed into the Belgian Netherlands.

  The single berlin containing so much valuable human and jewelled cargo had been held up for three hours and had eventually only been allowed into Belgium after an interview between Jodie and the commandant of the frontier post.

  As soon as she had seen Demelza and the children safely installed with Jeremy, Jodie, not knowing of her brother’s whereabouts or survival, had left with Sieur Menieres for Ghent.

  Fitzroy Somerset, relieved of his diplomatic duties, had been appointed military secretary to Wellington, who was trying to make something of his polyglot army. Somerset had a longish talk with Demelza in which he sought to reassure her that, as soon as things had settled down, Ross would, like him, be allowed home. It didn’t altogether convince her, but she could do no more than hope, and eventually head for England.

  On their one brief meeting at Geoffrey Charles’s party Demelza and Cuby had established a sort of half-friendly, half-hostile understanding. At the time Demelza was offended that Cuby should be preparing to marry Valentine Warleggan for the money involved, and so was refusing her own son Jeremy whom she appeared to have bewitched. Demelza had expected to meet a calculating little gold digger; but the first sight of her at that party had shown her to be very different from such an image. She registered at once as a girl of quality; not just social quality, but a personality, a character, a strong character, a charming young woman. Demelza could see what Jeremy saw in her. She still disliked her for causing her son such bitter unhappiness, but recognized her worth.

  They had not met since then. And since then Cuby had by fortunate mischance lost Valentine and been persuaded by Jeremy to elope with him, and now had been Jeremy’s wife for about four months.

  It was a situation which could have been fraught with constraint but the circumstances salved it. Demelza was too concerned about the wisdom of her flight and about Ross’s safety to worry over smaller things, and Cuby was just beginning to be sick in the mornings, which fact created a bond. Cuby said to Demelza one day: ‘I want you to know how lucky I feel myself that things have turned out as they are for me, and how very proud I am to be Jeremy’s wife.’

  The further threat that hung over all their heads was the imminent prospect of war. Jeremy had been promoted to lieutenant and was much away, though he contrived to be home most nights. He reported that the Bourbons were generally unpopular and that if it came to a battle against their old leader he doubted whether the Belgian and Dutch troops would stand and fight. The other nations – Russia, Prussia, Austria – had promised troops, but they had problems of their own keeping down various territories they had conquered. It was not even sure yet that the Duke would be put in full command of the armies. Prince William of Orange was still titular head, and if he remained so we didn’t stand a chance.

  And England, he said, was wickedly tardy in sending troops. So many regiments had been disbanded, so many were still in America and Canada, and the English were being very slow to be persuaded that their short peace might not last. How lucky he was, Jeremy said, to be with a British regiment already in being, and the famous 52nd ‘Light Bobs’ at that.

  Demelza wondered at her son’s good spirits. She had known Jeremy longer than anyone else and she knew him to be imaginative and not particularly brave. Yet his interest and eagerness were not assumed. Perhaps it was the company he was keeping, turning his thoughts away from the bloodshed to the possibility of glory. She watched Cuby when she looked at Jeremy and saw that she was certainly not the instigator of any enthusiasm for war.

  The family was leaving via Antwerp and the long sea crossing to Dover. When they assembled to take the coach Jeremy and Cuby were there to see them all off. Demelza’s younger son had stood all the changes of scene, of room, of food and of temperature with the imperturbability that was to be a feature of his later life. His occasional bouts of tetchiness had come from boredom rather than any physical malaise, and the relentless, invaluable Mrs Kemp had been helped by Isabella-Rose in keepin
g him interested and amused. After her adventure with the Polish soldiers Bella had been quite circumspect; and she had never understood why the rather formidable Mlle de la Blache had hugged and kissed her and thanked her when taking her leave.

  Now another leave had to be taken. There were embraces all round. Never having had to take so many decisions without Ross, and now about to part from her elder son who might, too, at any time find himself in dire danger, Demelza was feeling lonely and emotional. But she hid it – most of it – and Jeremy, also moved, as usual joked about it; and Cuby smiled at them with her dimpled, hazel-eyed smile and Harry shouted and Bella waved and they rumbled away down the narrow street and were lost to sight.

  II

  It was Ibbetson’s Hotel to begin, but this was expensive, and after a few days they moved into Ross’s old lodgings in George Street. Almost the first person to call on them was Caroline Enys.

  ‘My dear!’ she exclaimed as they embraced, ‘I had so hoped I might find you! And Ross? Is he safe?’ She listened. ‘Damn them! They have no business to detain anyone. It is outrageous! You must go to the Prime Minister or the Prince Regent! It can only be a matter of days surely.’

  ‘It has been nearly a month already!’

  ‘I cannot believe they would have had the audacity. Everyone else has been allowed to leave, so far as I know . . . No, we never crossed the Channel. We had just arrived in London when the news reached us that the infamous wretch had escaped. I was for going whether or no, but Dwight said let us wait a week, and of course we had the children with us, so it was as well we did. He’s gone home – there was no point in his staying – and taken Sophie and Meliora. The little brats were bitter disappointed. I am staying with Aunt Sarah, partly out of self-indulgence, partly so that I could learn as soon as possible what had happened to my dearest friends.’

  ‘Caroline, I try to preserve a calm front for the sake of Bella and Harry, but I am some sore inside. I ask myself, did I do the right thing to leave, might it not have been better if he was to be interned if we had not been interned with him? It was a monstrous strange journey I took from Paris to Brussels; someday I will tell you of it, but all the way I regretted leaving the apartment empty for him to come back to. I have the most disagreeable forebodings. While in Paris Ross, as is his way, did not hide his dislike of two evil men who have now come to power again and I believe can do him ill – even if it only means internment, but for how long? It might be for years . . .’

  Caroline patted her hand. ‘Come, come, this will not do. I am not accustomed to see you so near tears. Look, where are the children now?’

  ‘Out with Mrs Kemp.’

  ‘They will be happy enough on their own tonight. Do you come to sup at Hatton Garden this evening with my aunt and with me; and I believe there will be one or two other people there—’

  ‘Caroline, I am in no mood for jollity. It is real kind of you—’

  ‘All the more reason for you to come! From that letter I received from you after you had been in Paris a sennight I took the impression that you were greatly enjoying yourself. I suspect that you had a fair round of gaiety in Paris until the monster escaped, and I suspect that for the last month, ever since you left, you have been moping in your lodgings, worrying about Ross and criticizing yourself unnecessarily. This has to stop. You will make yourself ill. It shall stop tonight. A chair will come for you at seven. You will be brought home at eleven. You know how Mrs Pelham enjoys your company. Do not spoil her pleasure.’

  Demelza laughed. ‘Ross says you are the most strong-willed woman he knows.’

  ‘After you,’ said Caroline. ‘But I combine my will with arrogance, which makes it more overt.’

  Demelza wondered if there were ever a night at the house in Hatton Garden on which a party did not take place. Mrs Pelham was one of the most hospitable of women and had the means to indulge her fancy. Tonight was very small, a mere eight, but as usual elegant and enjoyable. That is, it would have been enjoyable if Demelza had not been the object of so much sympathy and kindness. She was encouraged to tell her story, which she had done so many times that she had come to hate it, and the observations on it had all been made, with suitable variations, before. It was so good of everyone to want to help her with comment and comforting advice, but what she wanted was to see Ross come in at the door. Old Colonel Webb, taller, it seemed, and more ramshackle than ever, was there, and Miss Florence Hastings, whom Demelza had met at Bowood, and Lord Edward Petty-Fitzmaurice, whom the Poldarks had last seen at Drury Lane Theatre. Demelza thought these two had come together and that perhaps there was to be a match; but in this she saw herself to be mistaken. Another man called Henry Crediton, another Member of Parliament, was in attendance on Miss Hastings.

  Conversation for a while was exclusively about the situation in France and the prospect of peace or war. Most of it went over Demelza’s head: Bonaparte’s abolition of the slave trade, which the Bourbons had not been willing to accede to – was this not a stratagem to ingratiate himself with the British? Bonaparte’s schemes to recover his wife Marie-Louise and their son from their custody in Austria. The power that the two old Jacobins Carnot and Fouché now exercised. (Demelza listened sharply and painfully to this.)

  Lord Edward was touching her hand. ‘Lady Poldark, my aunt would much like to meet you again. Would you be able to take tea with us tomorrow afternoon? And bring your daughter – your younger daughter, that is. So different in colouring and looks, isn’t she, from Clowance? . . . How is Clowance? I would like to see her again.’

  ‘She’s married – as of course you know.’

  Yes, you told me. A disappointment for me.’

  It was the first time he had ever mentioned his proposal to Demelza.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘So am I. Clowance has a very special quality which many of us lack. I know she would have been very good for me. At least I would have been very good to her.’

  ‘I’m sure you would, Lord Edward. Perhaps I should explain . . .’

  ‘What?’

  Demelza nervously crumbled a piece of bread. ‘She told me of your – interest. We did not, of course, know it was more than that. My husband and I have never tried to influence our children – those who are old enough – in their – their choices. It is perhaps an unusual way to behave but it is the way we thought right. When Clowance told me, I said to her that she must be altogether free to come to a decision without giving special thought to your position in life and the – the privileges that would come to her. Perhaps I was wrong.’

  ‘No, I’m sure you were right, Lady Poldark. I’m only sorry that my offer was turned down, and I hope she is very happy now in her new married life.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Are there children yet?’

  ‘No, they have only been married – what is it? – about eleven months.’

  ‘I see. Well, I trust you can come to tea tomorrow? I know it would give Aunt Isabel great pleasure.’

  III

  The Earl of Liverpool said: ‘I am sorry to have kept you waiting for an interview, Lady Poldark, but Government business is so pressing and I ’specially wanted to see you myself.’

  ‘It does not matter,’ said Demelza. ‘I have nothing to do in London – except wait for news.’

  ‘Quite so. Well I much wish I had more definite information, but you will appreciate our present difficulty. We do not recognize Bonaparte, so we have no representative to put through the necessary inquiries. Virtually all the other embassies and legations have been closed, so we cannot ask anyone else to intervene. Agents are our only source of information and they tell us that Sir Ross has now been moved to Verdun.’

  ‘Verdun? Where is that?’

  ‘About a hundred and sixty miles east of Paris. There is a famous fortress there, but also a camp, where many English were interned when war broke out again in 1803. Apparently he is being treated well, though in fairly close confinement. I am totally at a loss to know w
hy he is being imprisoned in this way when almost all the foreigners who wished to leave France have been allowed to go.’

  ‘Mlle de la Blache, who aided me to leave the country, said that they might make the excuse of treating him as a spy.’

  Lord Liverpool blinked several times. ‘His mission was – confidential, I agree, but scarcely more. But why should they seek the excuse?’

  Demelza told him.

  ‘I see. And Fouché is now Chief of Police again . . . I think an appeal to the Emperor himself would be the only way of circumventing that. It will be difficult to attempt at this juncture because very recently Bonaparte sent a personal letter to the Prince Regent declaring his peaceful aims, and the letter was returned to him with a stern note from Lord Castlereagh . . . But we will try our best, Lady Poldark, I assure you. In the meantime I can only ask you to be patient, in the knowledge that although your husband is not a free man he is not coming to any physical harm.’

  ‘Imprisonment, my lord, for someone like my husband, is a sort of physical harm.’

  ‘Yes, that too I understand. Well, be assured we will do our best. In the meantime what are your plans?’

  ‘I will hope to stay in London perhaps another two weeks, just hoping, hoping for some more news. Then, if there is none, I suppose I shall take the children back to Cornwall.’

  Lord Liverpool got up. ‘I do not know how you are circumstanced, but while your husband is interned I shall personally see that the monthly payment he has been receiving while on this mission will continue to be paid into his account at Messrs Coutts who I believe are the London correspondents of the Cornish Bank, of which he is a partner. There should be no difficulty in your being able to draw ample funds.’

  ‘Thank you, my lord. And d’you think an appeal will be made?’

  ‘Appeal?’

  ‘To the Emperor.’

  ‘Lord Castlereagh, as you know, is the Foreign Secretary. I will consult with him and see how we may best go about it.’