‘Well, it is a fait accompli; and on account of it I’ve landed myself in a fine mess. When I learned of her marriage I was so infuriated that I took horse and rode straight to Paris; so I am a deserter or, at least, absent without leave.’
‘The devil you are! That is no laughing matter. What stupid things we do on account of women. Really there are times when I feel it would be wiser to become a Trappist monk and be done with them for good. But I simply could not live without these silly creatures.’
‘Nor I,’ Roger agreed. ‘Of course, what I ought to have done was to write to Napoleon and say that now the cause for his sending me out of Paris was removed, would he give me leave to return here? As things are, when he is informed by that awful man Davoust that I’ve deserted he will be furious.’
‘You must see him and endeavour to put yourself right with him before he hears from Davoust.’
‘I should have done so yesterday but I missed my chance. As he charged Davoust in a personal letter to put me through the mill, I count it certain that by this morning a despatch from the General reporting my disappearance will have reached him. If I present myself, the odds are that his Captain of the Guard already has an order to arrest me and send me back to Bruges.’
‘That would mean a court martial and your complete ruin. Your only chance is somehow to persuade Napoleon to see you, complain of his harsh treatment of you, declare that he has punished you enough, and plead your past services to induce him to call off Davoust.’
‘I entirely agree. And that is why I am here. Would it be asking too much that you should speak to him on my behalf and induce him to give me a hearing?’
Talleyrand considered for a moment, ‘Out of friendship alone I will do that; and in any case I consider you too valuable a man to be deprived for good of a place near him, if that can be prevented. I think, too, that you had best send for some things and remain here for the night. If Davoust’s courier has arrived in Paris this morning, an order for your arrest may already have been issued. If so, the odds are that the Provost Marshal will go straight to La Belle Etoile as the first place to look for you. I will take you with me to the Tuileries tomorrow. But, should Napoleon consent to see you, I would not count on his restoring you to his good graces. Desertion is a crime that you may be sure he will not look upon leniently.’
Roger made a grimace, ‘I know it; but if I can see him at least I will have some chance of mitigating his anger.’ He then thanked his friend most gratefully for the help he had promised to give him and, a few minutes later, Talleyrand sent for his steward to tell him that Roger would be staying there that night.
That evening the Foreign Minister had first to attend a reception then a ball; so Roger dined alone and spent the time browsing through some of the beautifully-bound books in the library. Next morning there was a breakfast for eight at which many of the topics of the day were eagerly debated; but Roger’s mind was so taken up with wondering whether he would be free or a prisoner by dinner time that, though he smiled automatically at the witticisms uttered by the others, he hardly took in what they were talking about.
At midday he accompanied Talleyrand in his coach to the Tuileries. In Napoleon’s antechamber there was the usual crowd of Ministers, Generals and functionaries waiting to be received in audience. Several of them smiled at Roger and asked him where he had been. Anxious to avoid being drawn into conversation, he only returned their bows and replied that he had just come back from the coast.
The twenty-minute wait seemed to him interminable; but at last an usher, with a list in his hand, called out Talleyrand’s name. Roger had expected the Minister to go in and plead his cause while he went through another ten minutes or more of agonising suspense. But Talleyrand transferred his cane to his other hand, smiled at him and said, ‘Mon cher Colonel, be kind enough to give me your arm.’ And next minute they were walking towards the great double doors.
Instantly Roger realised how skilfully the great diplomat was handling this difficult situation. If Napoleon was in one of his black moods the very mention of Roger’s name might result in a peremptory refusal to see him, and lead to an order for his immediate arrest; but he was not going to be given a chance to refuse. For at least a moment Roger would be face to face with him—but, possibly, only for a moment.
The big doors were thrown open. There fell a sudden silence in the ante-room. In a loud voice the usher announced, ‘Monsieur de Talleyrand-Périgord, Minister of State for Foreign Affairs,’ then his mouth opened again to call out Roger’s name; but with a swift, imperious gesture Talleyrand motioned him to silence.
Napoleon was standing with his hands clasped behind his back looking out of a window. The doors closed with a gentle swish. In his beautifully-modulated voice, Talleyrand said:
‘First Consul, I am fortunate this morning. I bring you an old friend of ours whom I chanced to see outside the Palace on the bank of the Seine. He told me that he was in such despair that he intended to throw himself into the river. Knowing that his loss would grieve you deeply I insisted that he should give you the opportunity of restoring his faith in humanity.’
At Talleyrand’s first words Napoleon had swung round. He stared at Roger for a moment then opened his mouth to speak, but before he could do so the Minister added smoothly, ‘Colonel Breuc has refused to confide his troubles to me, so it would embarrass him if I remained. My business can wait until you have comforted him.’ He already had a hand behind him on the door knob. Giving it a twist and a quick push, he bowed himself backwards out of the room.
It was a brilliant démarche and Roger took swift advantage of it. Looking angrily at Napoleon he asked in a bitter voice, ‘Seeing the way you have treated me since last we met, can you be surprised that I was about to take my life?’
‘Psst!’ Napoleon made an angry gesture. ‘What nonsense! Surely you did not expect that I meant to give you my sister?’
‘You led me to suppose so. Then having got rid of me, pushed her into marrying this Italian Prince. What a way to behave!’
‘I did nothing of the sort! I even tried to dissuade her from marrying him until the end of the year. But she forced me to give my consent by telling me that the ardour of this Italian had led to her letting him get her with child.’
Roger suppressed a gasp; for if Pauline had been in the family way it must have been he who was responsible. But she had made no mention of that, so had evidently since got herself out of that trouble. After a moment he said:
‘Nevertheless you gave your consent to her marriage, and so spoiled for good our chances of happiness. And you prepared the way most skilfully, leading her to believe that I had deserted her by stealing the letter I wrote her after I last saw you.’
‘Letter! What letter! I have more important things to do than steal other people’s billets doux!’
‘Your police intercepted it. They must have, as it never reached her. You’ll not deny that you set them to spy on me and make certain I left Paris.’
‘Of course. I gave orders that in no circumstances were you to be allowed to enter the Hôtel de Charost. Had you openly appeared there to take leave of Pauline it would have been certain to end in a lovers’ parting that would have set the servants’ tongues wagging. You might even have declared yourself her fiancé. I should have been mad not to take precautions against your doing something of the kind.’
‘I might have. I loved her desperately, and had the right to. But out of respect for you, I refrained. And what was my reward for behaving honourably towards you? You had me reduced to the rank of Lieutenant and put through a more brutal course of training than is inflicted on any raw, rebellious conscript.’
Napoleon gave a short, harsh laugh, ‘That was no more than you deserved for holding your head too high. And it is still too high! I’ll not have you attempt to browbeat me in this fashion. Such leave as General Davoust gave you is cancelled from this minute. You will return to Bruges immediately.’
‘Have you not then recei
ved a despatch from the General this morning?’ Roger asked with a pale smile.
‘No. Why should I have? What had he urgent to communicate to me?’
‘Only that I never asked for leave, but had simply taken it.’
‘What!’ Napoleon’s eyes grew black with anger. ‘D’you mean you actually dared to leave Bruges without permission?’
Roger’s dark blue eyes blazed back into those of his master, ‘Dare!’ he cried. ‘Surely you know me well enough to realise that having risked my life for you a dozen times I’d not hesitate to dare anything on my own account? On learning of Pauline’s marriage I took horse at once for Paris. And how can you blame me? Since you’d gained your end and married her off to this Italian, how could it longer serve you to keep me in slavery at Bruges? Naturally, I returned expecting you to reinstate me; but this morning I was seized with a morbid fit and decided that you were a master not worth serving, so I would make an end of myself.’
‘Do you realise that you have laid yourself open to a court martial?’
‘Of course. But whatever you may do to me, I now have at least the consolation of knowing that Pauline still loves me.’
‘And how do you know that?’
‘Because on arriving in Paris I at once sought an explanation with her, and we spent last night together.’
‘You … you!’ Napoleon stammered, his eyes bulging, ‘You actually had the audacity to … to … ’
‘Why not? She loves me, and I had the right to.’
‘Mon Dieu, your insolence knows no bounds. I’ll have you court martialled for desertion and that will be the end of you.’
‘Do, if it pleases you,’ Roger sneered. ‘First you plan to wreck the happiness of your favourite sister and a man who would have made her an excellent husband, then you decide to ruin the career of one of your most faithful servants. People will not think so well of you when they learn how you have treated your poor brother-in-law.’
‘Brother … brother-in-law,’ Napoleon stared at him What the devil do you mean?’
Roger shrugged, ‘You will admit that when faced with an unexpected situation you are apt to be hasty in your judgments?’
‘What of it?’
‘Well; when Pauline and I returned from our little, er—journey, we thought it wiser not to spring it upon you, but to ask your consent to our marriage and go through another ceremony later here in Paris.’
‘Another ceremony!’ Napoleon gasped, having gone white to the lips.
‘Yes. Of course we were commendably discreet and purposely selected the Mayor of a tiny Commune to marry us, so that news of it should not get about.’
‘I … I don’t believe it.’
Again Roger shrugged. ‘You have only to tell that idiot Savary, whom you have made Chief of Police, to send one of his agents down to St. Maxime. He will then report to you that for a month Pauline lived with me openly at my château as Madame Breuc. Somewhat to our embarrassment the villagers, headed by the Mayor and Curé, came to present us with an address of welcome. Of course they did not know Pauline was whom she was; but they soon will if you start to stir up trouble.’
‘But … but this means that Pauline’s marriage to Prince Borghese is null and void. She has committed bigamy.’
Now really beginning to enjoy himself, Roger nodded, ‘I fear that is the case. Unfortunately Pauline is not gifted with your brains. Greatly as I adore her one must admit that she takes life very lightly. Owing to your machinations she thought that I had gone out of her life for good, and I had great difficulty last night in convincing her that by her hasty marriage to Borghese she had committed a form of crime. Of course, in the bad old days of the Revolution it would not have been of much consequence and you could somehow have wriggled her out of it. But I fear you have cooked your own goose by arranging the Concordat with Rome. The Pope would have given you a dispensation for her before she married again, but he cannot do that afterwards. So if I claim my wife publicly, as I now feel inclined to, there seems little that you can do about it, and poor Pauline will have to pay for her stupidity by burying herself with me somewhere in the country.’
‘You … you devil!’ Napoleon stormed, froth beginning to appear on his lips. ‘But there is a remedy for this. I’ll have you taken in a closed carriage to Vincennes and thrown into a dungeon. There you may talk as you will; the gaolers will suppose you only to be a madman.’
‘And what of the glorious Revolution?’ Roger gave a bitter laugh. ‘Do I see in you another Louis XV about to sign a lettre de cachet? How unfortunate for you that the mob pulled down the Bastille in ’89; so that you cannot follow tradition fully and send me to it.’
‘Vincennes will serve well enough,’ gasped Napoleon.
‘To hold me prisoner,’ Roger sneered, ‘but not to ensure your peace of mind. How can you suppose that I did not resent the treatment meted out to me at Bruges on your orders? I spent this morning writing letters to men, several of whom are your worst enemies, telling the truth about myself and Pauline. I have made arrangements that should I not be reinstated on your personal staff within a week, those letters are to be despatched to their destinations, which include the Russian, Prussian and Austrian Ambassadors, and His Holiness the Pope. Now, arrest me if you dare!’
The froth from Napoleon’s mouth dribbled down his chin. His eyes bulged, he gulped for air. Suddenly he lurched forward.
He would have measured his length on the floor had not Roger caught him just in time. Lifting his rigid body into a chair, Roger stepped back a pace and stared at him in near panic. He felt sure that his master’s intense rage had resulted in an epileptic fit. The clenched teeth, open, turned-up eyes and purple face were all evidence of it. But what to do?
His immediate impulse was to call for help. But that would bring the crowd in the anteroom streaming in, and all France getting to know that the First Consul was an epileptic. On the other hand, to remain there alone with him could have appalling consequences. If, in the next few moments, he died Roger would be held responsible for his death. The quarrel between them was certain to come to light, then public indignation would demand a trial and an execution. But to prevent his weakness from becoming generally known would be a sure way to earn his gratitude. Taking one of the biggest gambles of his life, Roger sloshed some water from a carafe into a glass and threw it in Napoleon’s face, then slapped him hard.
After a few moments Napoleon’s limbs began to jerk, his features lost their rigidity and he struggled into a sitting position in the chair. Regarding him anxiously, Roger asked, ‘Shall I send for your doctor?’
Feebly the stricken man shook his head, ‘No, no! … You … you did right to restore me yourself. No one must know that I … I occasionally suffer from these fits.’
For a full minute they remained silent, then Napoleon drew a long breath and said, ‘Breuc, I have treated you ill. I admit it. For me to give you Pauline was too much to ask. But … but you have proved that you can be a terrible enemy as well as a good friend. That we have been at loggerheads is as much your fault as mine. You should have told me of this secret marriage. I love my sister, so I would go to great lengths to protect her from the results of her folly. For her to be adjudged a bigamist would be a terrible thing. Can I rely on you to keep this secret?’
Roger nodded, ‘Yes, mon Général. For I love her too. And what is done is done. There’d be no sense in bringing grief to all of us on account of it.’
‘Then you may resume your place here as one of my A.D.C.s and, well … I’ll think of some way of compensating you for what you went through at Bruges.’
‘It has done me no harm and I have learned now what your soldiers suffer when on a campaign; so I need no compensation other than one thing.’
‘What is it?’
‘That you will not allow your police to interfere between myself and Pauline. We love one another, and we have already arranged a way in which we can assuage our desire to be together without Borghese coming to
know of it.’
‘Very well then. I gather that in spite of the Prince’s fine appearance he is little good to a woman; so it’s certain that if it were not you Pauline would soon take some other lover. Since you have proved yourself to be discreet, I’d as lief it was you than some new fancy of hers who might prove boastful and make trouble between her and her husband.’
For the first time during their interview Roger smiled with real pleasure. He had lied like a trooper about his having married Pauline; but their having lived at St. Maxime for a month as man and wife provided a sound basis for his story. He intended to tell Pauline that, should Napoleon question her about her marriage, she was to tell him that she had forgotten the name of the little Commune in which the ceremony was supposed to have taken place; so he thought it most unlikely that his lie would ever be found out.
Napoleon came unsteadily to his feet, extended his hand and said, ‘Then let us regard bygones as bygones.’
Roger took it and replied, ‘Mon Général, I thank you. You know well that at any time I would cheerfully die for you.’
Returning his smile, Napoleon lifted his hand in the familiar gesture as though to pull Roger’s ear; then it dropped to his side and he said wearily, ‘Yes. I believe you would. Go now. I do not feel equal to receiving anyone else this morning. Tell all those people outside that I have just received a despatch that needs my immediate consideration, and get rid of them.’
As Roger was not in uniform he did not salute. Drawing himself up, he cried, ‘Mon Général, to hear is to obey.’ Then, swinging on his heel, he marched triumphant from the room.
That evening he thanked Talleyrand for his brilliant intervention, and when he had told the whole story they laughed together over the way Napoleon had been fooled and blackmailed.
Soon after midnight Roger was outside the gate in the wall of the garden behind the Borghese mansion. Aimée let him in and took him up to her mistress.
The Wanton Princess Page 30