Vendetta in Spain ddr-2

by Dennis Wheatley

  'Do you suggest, then, that the Liberal policy is nothing but an infamous plot?' she asked indignantly.

  'Not altogether,' he smiled, 'and the Liberals have introduced many excellent reforms. But if you go deeply into the matter you will find that Tory governments have proved better protectors of the interests of the ordinary people. It was they who first introduced free education, it was they who put a stop to women working in the mines, it was they who passed the first factory acts and legislated to prevent little children being forced to labour as though they were slaves. But to revert to the question of Britain continuing to give asylum to political firebrands from all over Europe, the last thing the Liberals must want is for such people to spread discontent in the industrial areas; so they are just as likely to put up a bar to their entering the country as would be the Tories, who in your sense of the word are more genuinely Liberal-minded.'

  On another occasion they were talking about his early years spent in Russia when she said, 'The condition of the peasants and the poorer people must be quite appalling. One cannot wonder that last year Father Gapon led a revolution there. I know it was put down with ferocious brutality by the Tsar's Cossacks; but now that the people have shown their teeth it seems unlikely that will be the end of the matter. What do you think of their prospects of gaining their freedom?'

  'It all depends what you mean by freedom,' he smiled. 'If they succeed in overthrowing the monarchy they certainly would not get it. That could only lead to a blood-bath, after which they would soon find themselves at the mercy of a committee of mob-leaders. All revolutions develop in much the same way, and you have only to recall how in the French Revolution the whole nation was held in subjection by Robespierre and his Committee of Public Safety.'

  'But it worked out in the end,' she objected. 'The Terror did not last for very long, and after it was over new laws secured to every Frenchman his rights as an individual.'

  He shrugged. 'Perhaps; but at what a price to the nation. A million people died in the French Revolution, and that million represented nearly all that was best in integrity, brains and leadership that had been built up through many generations.'

  'Some of the nobles may have been clever, but many were stupid, and the great majority of them were parasites battening on the labour of the people.'

  'I was not referring to the nobility. Most of them escaped abroad. The people who were murdered were the solid bourgeoisie, who had made the cities of France richer than any others, the lawyers, doctors, scientists, philosophers and the best of the junior officers in the old Army and Navy.'

  'Nevertheless there was plenty of leadership shown by Frenchmen in the Napoleonic wars.'

  'You mean that there were plenty of brave men prepared blindly to give their lives in battle, because when the wars started they believed their country about to be invaded and overrun. Napoleon everyone admits to have been a genius; but he was an evil one and, remember, a product of the revolution. As a dictator he forced a tyranny on the people far worse than they had suffered under their Kings, and he bled France white in wars with no other object than to achieve his own ambition to become the arbiter of Europe. It was he who took such a terrible toll of the male youth of France that he undermined the stamina of the race for generations. But it was during the Revolution that the worst damage was done. Except for self-seekers and the irresponsible the upper middle-class was virtually wiped out, and France has never recovered. She has since had two Emperors, a Directory, a Bourbon restoration, a Commune, a Constitutional Monarchy and three Republics: all within a hundred years. The strength given to a people by continuity and tradition has been lost, and for a long time now she has been at the mercy of governments formed from little groups of unscrupulous intriguers who barter the votes they control for a share of power.'

  'You know too much about France for me to challenge you on what you say,' she shrugged. 'But unless the Russian people dethrone the Tsar, how can they ever hope to better their lot?'

  'It is being bettered, although that is probably not apparent to people who don't know very much about Russia. In recent years a lot more power has been given to the Zemstovs - that is, the provincial assemblies. They are local parliaments that have authority to pass laws for their own areas; and after the uprising last year they combined to press the Tsar to give Russia a National Assembly as well. His Imperial Majesty consented and the first Duma met in the autumn. Nearly all its members are men of high principles and broad views; so given a little time many sound reforms should emerge from it.'

  Gulia nodded. 'Yes, I read about that. But the Zemstovs can legislate only on matters concerning their own Provinces; and this new National Parliament has been given no power at all. It is only a consultative body.'

  'That is more or less true,' de Quesnoy admitted. 'At the root of the trouble are, of course, the Tsar and Tsarina. They shut themselves away with a little clique of hangers-on; so they are hopelessly ill-informed and hear only opinions which lead them to believe that they are still beloved by the great majority of their subjects. Unfortunately the Tsar is ill-educated, stupid and as weak as water; while the Tsarina, who dominates him, is a convinced autocrat, both bigoted and superstitious. It is a tragedy that the throne is not occupied by the Grand Duke Nicholas, or some other Prince who is more in touch with realities.'

  'About that you must be right. Anyhow, if they can keep the lid on the pot only by continuing to send thousands of people every year to exile in Siberia, sooner or later it is bound to blow off.'

  He gave her a smile. 'In that, my dear Dona Gulia, you are arguing from false premises. It is only when governments show weakness that revolutions succeed. That in France might easily have been held in check had it not been that Louis XVI was too great a fool and sentimentalist to accept the advice of his courageous Queen, and would not allow his loyal troops to suppress the first revolts against his authority. What happened in England during the same period is a fair example of the results of the opposite policy.'

  She shook her head. 'I fear I am not sufficiently well up in English history to know to what you are referring.'

  'To the effect of the French Revolution on England. At first all classes there welcomed the changes that were taking place on the other side of the Channel, because they believed in constitutional government. It was only when the moderates were overthrown and the Royal Family imprisoned that they began to realize the mfenace to life, property, justice and true freedom that the revolution had become. By then the virus had spread among their own masses. Agitators started riots in all their principal cities, a mob of fifteen thousand people gathered in north London and at a great mass meeting voted for a Republic. King George III was stoned in his coach on the way to open Parliament. Fortunately for England, in the younger Pitt he had a Minister who would not allow his humanity to deter him from his duty. Pitt brought the garrisons from outlying towns into the suburbs of London, suspended Habeas Corpus, forbade gatherings of more than five persons, and made it a transportable offence to talk treason. A number of hot-heads and would-be demagogues suffered, of course; but by his firmness he saved England from a similar Terror to that which took place in France, and the great bulk of her people from years of misery.'

  'Am I to understand, then, that you consider the Tsar's Government is justified in sending all those poor people to slave for life in the salt mines of Siberia, simply because they demand better conditions for the masses?'

  Gulia's voice held an angry note, and de Quesnoy sought to calm her by saying quietly, 'Let us get this straight. Persons found guilty of political agitation are never sent to the salt mines. They are exiled only to some city on the far side of the Urals, to keep them from making further mischief in St. Petersburg or Moscow. While living in exile few restraints are placed upon them; they can send for their families, choose their own residence, own property, practise their trade or profession, and enjoy all reasonable freedom. It is only real criminals and people convicted of having participated in nihilist pl
ots who are sent to the salt mines. By ridding European Russia, as far as possible, of agitators, the Government is at least keeping control of the situation. The longer it can continue to do that the better chance there is of the leaders of the Zemstovs, and of the Liberal nobility, persuading the Tsar to agree to allow the new Duma a real voice in the Government. Better conditions for the masses can only be secured by reforms brought about by legal means. I am convinced of that. We can only pray that those already advocated by the best men in Russia will be adopted in time. If they are not I fear you will prove right, and the lid will be blown off the pot. But if it is, just as happened in France, it will mean the massacre not only of the rich, but also of the Liberal-minded intellectuals who are striving to better the lot of the poor, and for the Russian masses a long period of civil war, anarchy, and a far worse tyranny than that under which they live at present.'

  It was on the morning after this conversation that a telephone message was received to say that the King intended to come out to the villa. The Conde and de Vendome had already gone into San Sebastian, so it was Gulia and de Quesnoy who received Don Alfonso. At the far end of the villa from the Count's bedroom there was another patio. Beyond both, and also between them, there extended a delightful garden, with a fountain in its centre faced by a long curved stone seat and a semi-circle of fluted columns carrying busts of Roman Emperors. There, after doing the honours with refreshments, Gulia left the two men.

  'Well, my dear Count,* said the young King, 'it seems that you are extremely lucky to be alive; and I am delighted to find that the only ill-effect you now show from your terrible ordeal is a game leg. I read with the greatest interest the report that you dictated for me to Jos6 de Cordoba.'

  De Quesnoy smiled. 'I thank your Majesty; and I am most grateful, too, for the gracious messages you sent me during the bad time I went through. For some days it was touch and go, but in a week or two I should be completely recovered. My only regret is that I was found out before I could secure conclusive evidence against Ferrer and his fellow assassins.'

  'Yes, that was bad luck. But as things turned out their attempt to murder you has given us enough to get all those involved a life-sentence and, perhaps, linked to other charges, sufficient to justify the death penalty.' The King lit a cigarette and went on. 'In any case Alvaro Barbestro's goose is cooked because he was actually seen shooting at General Quiroga; and, I think, Ferrer's too, because you can give evidence that the plot against Quiroga was mentioned before you when they had you in the foreman miller's house, and Ferrer was present.'

  'True,' murmured the Count. 'And he is the one above ail others that we must endeavour to put out of the way for good. I am convinced that he is their ring-leader. He could even continue to be dangerous in prison. May I ask how matters stand at the moment?'

  'Ferrer, his mistress, all his family with the exception of his younger son, and the whole staff of the Escuela Moderna are under arrest. The school, of course, is closed. When it was raided a considerable quantity of papers were seized, among them some letters from Morral. There is enough material, anyway, to justify holding these people on suspicion that some, if not all of them, were privy to the attempt made by Morral to assassinate me on my wedding day. Even without your evidence, Ferrer and his closest associates will have great difficulty in proving their innocence, and your testimony will make certain of their conviction.'

  'When, Sir, is their trial to take place?'

  'At your convenience, my friend,' smiled the King. 'After what they did to you I see no reason why they should not remain kicking their heels in prison for as long as you require treatment for your leg. Those who were not concerned in your attempted murder are tarred with the same brush as the others. Even if not guilty of active anarchism by openly expressing treasonable views, they stimulate fanatics to commit their abominable crimes.'

  'I have massage for my leg every morning to get the muscles back into condition, but I think that in about another fortnight I should be finished with that.*

  'Very well, then. The trial can take place towards the middle of October. It is my wish that when you go to Barcelona to attend it you should stay with General Quiroga. He will provide a special guard for your protection and you must promise me not to go out without it. The sooner, too, you can leave the city, the better.'

  De Quesnoy nodded. Tt certainly seems probable that they will make another attempt to kill me. I am most grateful for your Majesty's concern for me.'

  For a while they talked on; then Don Alfonso told the Count that he would be in San Sebastian until the end of the month* and added that as soon as he could move about without discomfort he must come to lunch or dine at the Palace. A few minutes later he got into a trial six-cylinder car that the new Hispano Suiza Company had just made for him, and drove away at top speed.

  De Quesnoy was then carried down to the beach with Gulia walking beside him and, a little belatedly, they had their morning bathe. After it, when they had settled themselves in their deck-chairs, she remarked:

  'I would not care to be in Don Alfonso's shoes.'

  'Why?' he asked. 'From fear that you might be assassinated?'

  'He might be at any time; but it was not of that I was thinking. That poor young man has inherited every sort of trouble. Ever since he assumed power four years ago he has been compelled to change his Government every few months. The priests are constantly at him to maintain them in sucking the people's blood and forcing bigotry upon them; the Army has been the other dominant power in Spain for so long that the Generals show open resentment at every reform proposed for it; and in opposition to the other two the Liberals never cease to press him to introduce more democratic measures. It needs only a really serious clash between the Right and Left to start another of our civil wars. If that happened he would lose his throne.'

  'I think you unduly pessimistic,' de Quesnoy replied. 'He is intelligent, courageous and has already won the love of the great mass of his people. He has also shown a tact in handling his Ministers that is quite astonishing in one so young. I should be much surprised if he does not find the means for keeping the Blacks, Whites and Reds from one another's throats.'

  'He may as long as he does not feel himself to be personally involved. But he can be very high-handed and is extraordinarily pigheaded on some matters, such as the prerogatives of the Crown. Yet, unless he is prepared to sacrifice some part of what he considers to be his rights, a time is certain to come when he will find a great part of the nation against him. Another thing: now that he is a fully-grown man women will begin to play a part in his life and an evil or arrogant one could have a disastrous influence upon him.'

  'He is certainly handsome enough for any number of pretty baggages to throw themselves at his head,' the Count said with a smile, 'and as time goes on they will, of course. At present he is said to be deeply in love with his Queen, but one can hardly expect that to last for ever. After all, it's more or less a tradition that Kings are entitled to amuse themselves with mistresses as a relaxation from the burdens of State; so no one will count him much to blame if his name becomes coupled with that of one or more lovely ladies. But I see no reason why he should allow them to dominate him.'

  'Just think of his ancestry,' Gulia exclaimed.

  'His father was far from being a bad King, and his mother is a most admirable woman in every way: both wise and saintly.'

  'That his father's first wife, Mercedes, happened to be his Queen does not alter the fact that he allowed himself to become so besotted about her that when she died he lost interest in everything. And look at his grandmother, Isabella II. There was a bora whore if ever there was one. She chose the succession of Generals whom she allowed to ruin the country as though they were stallions, and put each through his paces in her bed.'

  Unnoticed by Gulia, de Quesnoy gave her a sidelong glance, as she hurried on. 'Then her mother, Maria Cristina. She was so obsessed with her Captain of the Guards that she had nine children by him, and all of them in secr
et. When the last of them was only a few hours old she had to put on her State robes and read her official speech at an opening of the Cortes. If allowing oneself to be forced into such a position is not enslavement to passion, tell me what is?'

  'Poor woman,' the Count commented. 'But you are right, of course, that the Bourbon blood is particularly easily inflamed. We can only hope that Don Alfonso's share of it will not become overheated to the detriment of himself and his country.'

  Meanwhile he was thinking how surprising it was that Dona Gulia should have compared Generals to stallions and spoken of the Queen putting them through their paces in her bed. In high society and mixed company only the most oblique references were ever made to such matters, while it was unheard of for a lady even to mention such a subject when conversing alone with one of her husband's men friends. He then remembered that her parents were middle-class intelligentsia, and that such people, while highly respectable, regarded it as hypocrisy to hedge themselves about with unnatural prudery. Not being a hypocrite himself, he decided that it was refreshing to talk to a beautiful and intelligent woman who was not ashamed to speak her thoughts with frankness. And that was precisely the effect that Gulia had intended her words to have upon him.

  After a few more days the Count's leg was strong enough for him to walk unaided in the garden or down to the beach, and de Vendome suggested that it would make a change for him to go in to San Sebastian. Gulia and Dona Eulalia accompanied them and after leaving the two ladies to do some shopping the Prince drove on through the old town, then along the coast road which almost encircles Monte Urgull, the great castle-topped hill that dominates the harbour, the bay of La Concha, and the city. Pulling up at the road's extremity they sat for a while, now facing inland, to watch the yachts tacking in the bay with, beyond them, the long curved beach of golden sand swarming with holiday-makers enjoying the September sunshine, and at its furthest extremity Monte Izueldo, on a lower slope of which, set in its lovely garden, stood the Royal Palace of Miramar.