The Rising Storm rb-3

by Dennis Wheatley

  "I had not flattered myself that your interest was in any way per­sonal," Roger declared, to spare her further embarrassment, "but I am entirely at your disposal, Senorita." Then, offering his arm, he added: "While we converse shall we promenade for a little?"

  She laid her fingers lightly on it and allowed him to lead her away from the group of other young women—who, since their meeting, had covertly been taking more interest in them than in the carp—and round the corner of the Palace theatre into the parterre designed for Louis XIV by his famous gardener, Le Notre.

  After a short silence she said: "The principal reason that the story of your running away from home intrigued me so much, Monsieur, is because it would be quite impossible for such a thing to occur in Spain. I mean, of course, for a boy of good family to do such a thing. There children are made much more of by their parents than they are in France, but all the same they are brought up very strictly, and kept under constant supervision until the young men are of an age to go out into the world, and the girls to marry. I think things must be very different in England, but I know little of your customs there. Pray tell me of them."

  It was a subject that presented no pitfalls, so Roger willingly launched out on an account of the Public School system and the type of life led by boys of the upper classes when they were living at their homes during the holidays.

  The Senorita showed the most intelligent interest in all he had to say and led him on to speak of his own home and his family; then, when she learned that he had an allowance of only £300 a year from his father, she enquired why he had not entered the service of his King to carve out a career for himself.

  Not wishing to give the impression that he was altogether an idle good-for-nothing or, worse, an adventurer, he said that he had a passion for seeing new places and new faces, so travelled for the love of it as far as his means permitted; but that to eke them out and at the same time indulge his taste he had, on occasion, acted for his Government as a special courier, carrying despatches to the Baltic countries and Russia.

  At that her interest quickened still further and she asked if his coming to France had arisen from some commission of that kind.

  He told her that it had not, and that but for his arrest he would have remained entirely his own master for some time; adding the easy lie that, an aunt having left him a nice legacy, he had decided to spend some months making a leisurely tour of the great cities of France with the object of inspecting the historic monuments they contained.

  They had, by this time, walked right round the eastern end of the great Palace and entered the Garden of Diana to its north. Roger knew that the Queen's apartments looked out on it and the little town that lay immediately beyond its wall. He had wondered at her choice until he had been told that all the apartments facing south and west had at one time or another been lived in by the mistresses of past Kings, and that she was so proud that she preferred the comparatively sunless aspect to making use of rooms in which immoral women had received their royal lovers. Now, Roger glanced up at the first-floor windows and added bitterly:

  "However, it seems that Her Majesty has other plans for me."

  His companion slightly increased the light pressure of her fingers on his arm. "Be not too despondent, Monsieur. Did I believe that you had committed the heinous crime of which you were at first accused, you may be sure that I would not be talking to you now; and I can vouch for it that, although Madame Marie Antoinette allows her impulses to make her appear harsh at times, she is in reality one of the tenderest-hearted women alive. When she has had time for reflection I cannot think she will prove over-severe towards you."

  "I pray you may be right," Roger said somewhat doubtfully. "Yet I understand that several of her gentlemen approached her on my behalf this morning, and she refused to listen to them."

  " 'Tis true, and I was the witness of it. But at the time she was much occupied with other matters; for tomorrow the Court leaves Fontaine­bleau to return to Versailles. On that account, too, I fear I must leave you now, as I still have many matters to attend to."

  Roger accompanied her to the staircase leading to the Queen's apartments, thanked her for having distracted him from his anxieties for a while, received her good wishes for a better turn in his fortunes, and then made his way back to de Vaudreuil's rooms.

  This unsought interview had put him in a slightly more cheerful frame of mind. He felt that he had gained another friend near the Queen, who would do what she could on his behalf; but he now feared that the imminent departure of the Court might prejudice the issue against him. In the bustle preparatory to the move the Queen would have little time for quiet consideration of his case, and her impulsive nature might easily lead her to not even discuss it with the King, but simply scribble a line to the Lieutenant of Police, instructing him to fill in a blank lettre de cachet to the effect that M. de Breuc was to be imprisoned during His Majesty's pleasure.

  Such a procedure was often adopted instead of ordering imprison­ment for a definite period, and it was one of the bitterest complaints of the bourgeoisie that such sentences sometimes led to people who had been incarcerated for quite minor misdemeanours, and had no influence at Court, being forgotten and left for years to rot in a dungeon.

  The later afternoon was rendered no more pleasant for Roger from the fact that de Vaudreuil's garrulous servant was dismantling the sitting-room and packing up his master's things; then, after dinner, instead of enjoying again the gay society that had borne him company the evening before, he found himself left alone with his worries, owing to it being the night of the Queen's weekly card-party.

  The jeu de la Reine had long been an institution at the Court of France, and the Queens were provided with a special allowance to support it. In addition to play the occasion was used by them to show special favour to distinguished visitors, one or more of the Ambassadors, or others that they wished to honour, by inviting them to sit near them. Maria Leczinska, the Queen of Louis XV, had always insisted on keeping the games down to modest stakes in order to protect the players from heavy losses; but a few years after Louis XVI ascended the throne Marie Antoinette had developed a taste for gambling, partly perhaps to distract her mind from her unhappiness at being unable to produce an heir for France.

  Once bitten with the fever she had played nightly and for increasingly high stakes, so that at the end of 1777 she had lost £21,000 in excess of her income, and had been obliged to ask her husband to pay her debts. The sum was insignificant compared with those that the royal mis­tresses had thrown away at the tables in the past; but her gambling losses had been made much of by her enemies. It was this which, when the French Treasury had become near bankrupt, had caused the people to accuse her of having emptied it and christen her with the opprobrious name of "Madame Deficit".

  Since the birth of her children her character had changed. She had longed for them for so many years in vain that when at last they came they absorbed her interest to the exclusion of all other pleasures. She had given up frequenting the gay entertainments given by the younger set at her Court, reduced her lavish expenditure on clothes, and both her stakes at the gambling tables and the frequency with which she played.

  But she still enjoyed a game and naturally continued to hold her official card-parties as a part of the Court ceremonial; so that on this evening Roger, finding himself deserted and knowing that her reception was unlikely to be over before ten o'clock, decided to go early to bed.

  He hoped that sleep would soon banish his anxieties, but in that he was disappointed, and he found his wakeful mind playing round the Spanish girl with whom he had talked that afternoon. Although she was not strictly beautiful he admitted to himself that she possessed a certain subtle attraction, and after some thought he decided that it lay largely in her voice. It was peculiarly soft and melodious, and her slightly broken French with its Spanish accent added to its fascination. Perhaps too her nationality played a part, for Spain, shut away as it was from the rest of Europe by the
barrier of the Pyrenees, was still almost unknown territory, which endowed it with a glamour all its own. Very few foreigners ever visited it, but travellers' tales described it as a land of dazzling sunshine where great sterile deserts were interspersed with areas of vines, olives and orange blossom, and in which the most degrading poverty existed cheek by jowl with fabulous riches. He hoped that one day his travels would take him there, so that he would be able to witness the fiestas and bullfights for which the country was renowned.

  Having got so far in his musings, he made another effort to get to sleep, but again it was not to be. A heavy knocking came on the sitting-room door. It was followed by footsteps inside the room, then a sharp knock on the door of his bedroom. He had hardly called out "Entrez" when it was opened, and by the fight from outside he recognized one of his previous night's visitors. It was M. de Besenval, the Commander of the King's Swiss Guards.

  "I regret to disturb you, Chevalier," said de Besenval, in his heavy Germanic voice, "but I bear orders from Her Majesty. I must ask you to get up, dress, and accompany me."

  The fact that it was de Besenval who had come to fetch him immedi­ately confirmed Roger's fears that he might be condemned unheard and sent to eat his heart out in a fortress. He felt certain that had the Queen decided to give him a chance to justify himself she would not have used the Colonel of the Guards, but de Vaudreuil, or some other of her gentlemen, to bring him to her.

  With a low-voiced assent he got out of bed; and, as he began to dress, determined to put as good face as he could on his misfortune.

  De Besenval went back into the sitting-room and Roger rejoined him there some seven minutes later. On entering the room he saw that the Colonel was accompanied by two stolid-looking German-Swiss privates, who were standing rigidly to attention, facing inwards on either side of the door. At the sight of them Roger's last faint hope vanished, but he smiled at de Besenval and made him a graceful bow before placing himself between the two soldiers.

  The Colonel gave an order, on which the little party left the room and began to march with measured tread down the corridor. De Besenval brought up the rear, and he had evidently given his men their instructions beforehand, as they continued on in silence past the first stairway, round the inner curve of the Oval court and along a gallery that gave on to the royal reception-rooms.

  As the Queen's card-party was just breaking up a number of ladies and gentlemen were leaving them to return to their own apartments. All of them looked at Roger as he passed with sympathy, and here and there among them one of the men he had met bowed to him with respect.

  Having been brought round to this side of the Palace gave Roger a sudden flicker of new hope that he was, after all, to be taken before the Queen; but almost as soon as it had arisen it was quenched. His escort turned away from the tall gilded double doors and led him down the staircase opposite to them. Outside the entrance a two-horse carriage stood waiting; one of the soldiers got on the box beside the coachman, the other scrambled on to the boot; de Besenval ushered Roger into the carriage, got in beside him and pulled down the blinds. Then they set off.

  After they had proceeded for a few minutes in silence, Roger said: "Is it permitted to ask, Monsieur le Baron, whither you are conducting me?"

  "I regret, Monsieur," the elderly Swiss replied, "but except in so far as my duty requires I am under orders not to talk with you."

  Left to his own speculations Roger considered all the odds were that he was being taken to Paris, and that as prisoners of gentle birth there were nearly always confined in the Bastille, that was his most probable destination. If so, they had a journey of some forty miles before them, so would not arrive in the capital until the small hours of the morning.

  Now that he was under guard again the parole he had given to de Vaudreuil was no longer valid, so he took swift stock of his chances of escape. His only opportunity would be when they changed horses, as it was certain they would do a number of times on the road. Since de Besenval had not locked either of the carriage doors, should he get out of one to stretch his legs when they halted, there would be nothing to stop his prisoner slipping out of the other. But from the second the prisoner put his foot to the ground he would be in acute danger—as the two Swiss on the box and the boot were both armed with muskets, and it was a hundred to one that they would shoot if he attempted to make a bolt for it.

  Having weighed the pros and cons Roger decided that, even if the opportunity occurred, to present himself as a target for two musket-balls fired at close range was too great a risk to take, so he had better resign himself to captivity, at least for the time being.

  After he had settled himself more comfortably in his corner of the carriage the rhythm of its wheels and the horses' hoofs began to make him drowsy. For the better part of two days he had been subject to acute anxiety and the sudden, if temporary, cessation of wondering what was about to happen to himself had its reaction. The sleep that he had sought in vain an hour before now kindly enveloped him.

  He awoke with a start. The carriage had stopped and he felt certain that he had not been asleep for long. De Besenval was getting out and said over his shoulder: "Be pleased to follow me, Monsieur."

  As Roger stumbled from the carriage he saw they had not drawn up before a post-house; and no ostler was at work unbuckling the traces of the horses. The carriage had halted in a broad, tree-lined avenue and, to Roger's amazement, to one end of it he caught a glimpse of the south facade of the Palace of Fontainebleau outlined by the rising moon. Suddenly it impinged upon his still drowsy brain that for the past half-hour they must have been driving away from the Palace only to return to its immediate vicinity in secret by a circuitous route.

  To one side of the avenue the trees opened to disclose a path and at its entrance stood the cloaked and hooded figure of a woman. De Besenval saluted her and, beckoning Roger forward, said gutturally: "Chevalier, my instructions carry me no further than this point. Here I hand you over into the keeping of this lady. My compliments to you."

  Roger returned his bow and stepped forward. The female figure stretched out a hand and took one of his. Then she said in a low, melodious voice, which he recognized as that of the Senorita d'Aranda: "You are late, Monsieur; please to come with me and quickly."

  For a moment, as Roger hurried with her along a narrow, twisting path bordered on both sides by thick shrubberies, he thought that she must have engineered his escape; but he could scarcely believe that the Colonel of the Swiss Guards would have lent himself to such a plot.

  Before he had time for further speculation they emerged into a clearing, in the centre of which stood a small pavilion. Chinks of light between its drawn curtain showed that it was lit within. Ascending the three steps that led up to its verandah the Senorita drew him after her, knocked on the door and, opening it, pushed him inside.

  Momentarily he was dazzled by the light; then, almost overcome with stupefaction, he realized that he was standing within a few paces of the Queen. She was wearing an ermine cape over her dicoUeti and diamonds sparkled in her high-dressed, powdered hair. Beside her on a small table lay a sword, and he recognized it as his own.

  As he sank upon one knee before her she took up the sword; and, still bewildered by this swift, unexpected turn of events, he heard her say:

  "Chevalier, I have ever been most adverse to duelling, and I cannot find it in myself to condone that method of settling differences as a general principle. Yet I now know that in your affair with the Count de Caylus you were inspired by no base motive but a selfless devotion which does you honour. I therefore return to you your sword."

  "Madame, Madame I I..." stammered Roger.

  The Queen went on evenly: "On the evening of your arrest I sent to Paris for your papers. They arrived this morning and soon after midday I found an opportunity to look through them. Among them I found a recommendation for the reconsideration of your case from my good friend M. le Comte d'Adhemar. That alone would not have been sufficient to exculpate you
, but I also found a statement made by M. le Vicomte de la Tour d'Auvergne. After his flight to Brittany His Majesty despatched an order requiring him to justify himself for his part in the affair. In doing so he takes the blame upon himself for your meeting with de Caylus; and Monsieur le Vicomte is one of our nobles whose word everyone must respect. In the circumstances, I would think myself ungenerous were I to condemn you for the part you played."

  As she finished speaking Roger took back his sword and murmured: "It has ever been my desire to be of service to Your Majesty, and I am now so overcome by your clemency that there is naught I would not do to prove my gratitude."

  Her blue eyes regarded him thoughtfully for a moment, then she said: "Do you really mean that, Monsieur, or is it just one more of the empty phrases that I hear only too often at my Court? Seeing the treat­ment you have received at my hands, it would be more natural in you did you bear me a grudge; and I now found that my impulse to see justice done had earned me yet one more enemy."

  "Indeed, Madame!" he protested, his overwhelming relief at having escaped scot free filling his mind to the exclusion of all else. "Your enemy I could never be. I pray you only to command me and I will prove my words; even if it means the risking of my life—'tis little less that I owe you."

  A faint smile came to her pale lips. "Then if you have spoken rashly the fault is yours; for I have a mind to seize this opportunity and request a service of you."

  "Speak, Madame. I am all attention."

  She hesitated a second, before saying: "This afternoon I sent the Senorita d'Aranda to find out what she could about you. She reported to me that you have a great love of travel and no commitments for the next six months. Is that correct?"

  "It is, Your Majesty."

  "The Senorita also repeated to me all that you had told her of your youth and upbringing in England. What you said confirmed the statement of M. de la Tour d'Auvergne, that you are no common adventurer but an honourable gentleman in whom trust can be placed without fear of betrayal. At this moment I am in urgent need of such a friend."