The Dark Secret of Josephine rb-5

by Dennis Wheatley

  There was only one thing upon which Roger felt that he could congratulate himself. It was that his approach had been made so skilfully that the young General could not possibly suspect that he had started the conversation with any ulterior motive. He was, there­fore, shaken to the roots of his being when, a moment later, Buonaparte said:

  "Am I right in believing you to have been born an Englishman?"

  chapter XXV

  DESPERATE INTRIGUE

  The question was a really alarming one. It might mean only that Buonaparte had heard a garbled version of one of the several accounts Roger had given of himself in the past; but it might mean that recently there had been some leak connecting him with London, and that Buonaparte, who now combined the functions of Chief of the Police with his Command, had come upon it in a report, so did in fact suspect him.

  "No," he said, after only a second's hesitation. "What gave you that idea?"

  "Your name cropped up at Madame de Stael's one night a few weeks ago. Someone was asking what had become of you, and an argument developed between the Deputy Freron and a ci-devant Marquis, whose name I do not recall. The one maintained that you began your career as an English journalist, and having been sent over here, like the Deputy Tom Paine, you abandoned your country out of enthusiasm for the Revolution; the other, that you were an Alsatian who had once been secretary to a nobleman, and later appeared at Versailles, a young exquisite, calling yourself the Chevalier de Breuc."

  Greatly relieved, Roger was able to reply: "There is something of truth in both their accounts of me; but I was born a Frenchman and my political convictions have ever been those of a Republican." Then, feeling that this was an admirable opportunity once and for all to dovetail the varying beliefs held about him by different strata of society in Paris, he went on:

  "I was born in Strassburg. My father was a Frenchman of moderate fortune, my mother the daughter of a Scottish Earl who had run away with him. Both died when I was quite young; so my mother's sister, who had married an English Naval officer, took charge of me and I went to live with her in southern England. She gave me a good educa­tion, but I always longed to get back to France. At the age of fifteen, I ran away and succeeded in doing so. For some years I devilled in a lawyer's office in Rennes; then I became secretary to the Marquis de Rochambeau. In '87, owing to a duel, I was compelled to fly from France, so naturally returned to England. There I took up journalism, and through it became acquainted with many of the Whig nobility who were eagerly following the agitation for reform in France.Their influence with the French Ambassador secured me a pardon which enabled me to return, and their introductions gained me the entree at Versailles. But, after a while, the news-letters I sent to my paper proved too revolutionary for the liking of my paymasters, and when I became a member of the Jacobin Club they cut off my remittance. Having no other source of income I was again compelled to return to England, but my Aunt was also out of sympathy with my revolutionary principles, so refused me help, and for the best part of two years I ad a hard time of it making enough by my pen to support myself. By then the Revolution had progressed to a point where I felt that I must play a further part in it; so once more I came back to France. Shortly after my return I was elected a member of the Commune. Later I was given several missions as Citizen Representant by both Robespierre and Carnot. It was in that capacity, you will remember, that I first met you at the siege of Toulon. My more recent history you already know."

  He had taken certain liberties with his earlier cover stories, such as stating that his mother had been Scottish, and that it was not a godmother but an aunt who had had him educated in England, because he felt that the nearer the truth he could go the safer he would be against future eventualities. But no one would, after all this time, be able to recall with certainty the exact degree of relationships he had given them; and he felt great satisfaction at having at last blended into a concrete whole the two roles he had played.

  As he ceased speaking, Buonaparte, seizing upon the one essential that interested him, exclaimed: "Then you have lived long in England, and must know that country well! There are matters in which you can be of great use to me. Please return with me to my office."

  "With pleasure," Roger replied. "I take it you refer to your projected invasion of the island?"

  The young General halted in his tracks, swung round and snapped: "Who told you aught of that?"

  Roger shrugged. "Why, Barras, of course. Since it was I who first brought him, Tallien and Dubois-Crance together for the planning of 9th Thermidor, he naturally takes me into his confidence about many matters."

  "I am relieved to hear that it was not through idle gossip which might get to one of Mr. Pitt's agents. This concept is of the highest secrecy, but seeing that you are to be trusted, it is as well that you should know the whole truth. It will enable me to use your knowledge of the country to much better advantage."

  As they walked towards the entrance of the gardens, Buonaparte asked: "Have you seen Tallien since your return?'

  "Yes. I was at his house three nights ago. I thought him looking very ill."

  The General grunted. "Tallien is finished. His first wife's suicide has disturbed his mind. In any case he played a double game once too often when he ordered the execution of those poor devils of emigre's after Quiberon. The reactionaries will never forgive him, yet we now have proof that he was coquetting with the Royalists, so he will never again be regarded with confidence by the Government I told his wife as much. But she is a fool, and I have no patience with her."

  Roger, knowing the reason for this outburst, had a quiet laugh to himself, and was even more amused.when Buonaparte went on:

  "Now her friend, Madame de Beauharnais, is very different. She is a most sensible as well as charming creature; and the way she has brought up her two children does her the greatest credit. The Revolution hit her hard, but instead of whining about the shifts to which it brought her, she courageously adapted herself to changed circumstances. Her little girl, Hortense, she apprenticed to a milliner, and the boy, Eugene, to a carpenter; yet owing to their mother's training neither has become the least degraded by their menial occupations. On the contrary the manners of these two lovely children are most distinguished. It so happened that the father's sword came into my possession, and not long since I gave it to young Eugene. His acceptance of it brought tears to my eyes. His one ambition is to be a soldier, and he swore to me that he would die rather than dishonour it. Such a family show all the best qualities of the old aristocracy, and I greatly delight in their friendship."

  By this time they had reached the gate, where the General's coach was waiting. As they got into it and drove off Roger began to run over in his mind all that had transpired in the past half-hour. His original mission had gone up in smoke, as it was clear that he might as well have tried to bribe a brick wall as the fiery little Corsican; but luck and the skilful handling of the conversation had compensated him by providing a new opening. If he continued to play his cards well it looked as if he would at least be able to obtain full particulars of Buonaparte's plans for the invasion of England.

  The coach set them down in the Rue des Capucines, at the fine house Buonaparte now occupied adjacent to his headquarters. Without a word he took Roger straight upstairs, unlocked a door, and led him into a room containing a huge table littered with papers, and having several large maps pinned up on the walls.

  Throwing his gold-laced hat down on a chair Buonaparte motioned Roger to another, shuffled through the papers, selected a bulky folder from among some others, sat down himself and said sharply: "Now, be good enough to give me your help by answering these questions to the best of your ability."

  The interrogation, on the results of which Buonaparte made copious notes, lasted over three hours. It concerned not only forts, beaches and the approximate strength of garrisons along the part of the south coast that Roger admitted to knowing, but also on the ability of various areas to support men and horses, and the degr
ee of sympathy for the principles of the Revolution which an 'Army of Liberation' might hope to find among the labouring population of the towns.

  In answer to the purely military questions Roger gave more or less truthful replies, as he knew they could, and would, be checked by minor spies. About the amounts of stored grain, fodder and other foodstuffs which were likely to be found by an invading army he could afford to be fairly pessimistic, and when it came to the question of support from the Methodists, Corresponding Societies, and other anti-monarchist bodies in Britain he was able, quite honestly, to pour an icy douche upon the General's hopes.

  "You must not," he said, "judge these people by the amount of noise they make, and the fact that from time to time troops have to be called out to put down some local riot. They already enjoy a far greater degree of liberty than did our people here in France before '89. That there is a widespread agitation to bring about a more even distribution of wealth is true; but if it succeeds it will be mainly through gradually increasing pressure being brought to bear on Parliament by the many gentry, and others, who in recent years have shown a strong desire to better the lot of the masses. As for the idea that English sans­culottes in Southampton or Portsmouth would rise on the appearance of your troops and set about massacring their masters, pray disabuse your mind of it They would not even lift a finger to help you. In fact all but a very few would instantly forget their grievances and, remem­bering only that they were Englishmen, rush to help in defending their country. I have addressed meetings of these men, and wasted much of my time endeavouring to incite them to more vigorous action; so in this you may rest assured that I know what I am talking about."

  Buonaparte looked somewhat disappointed, but shrugged his narrow shoulders. "Ah well, that will make little difference. Victories are not gained by mobs but by superior numbers of well-disciplined troops; and we shall have that for the British have practically denuded the island of regulars."

  "You have got to get your troops there, and a great quantity of stores, to enable you to launch your first offensive. Are you not afraid that the British Navy will come upon and destroy your transports?"

  "No. We shall send a squadron of our oldest ships out from the Biscay ports to lure the Channel Fleet down towards Portugal. That will give two or three clear days at least for our crossing. The main French Fleet will then offer battle to the British on their return."

  "It could never hope to emerge victorious from such an encounter."

  "I do not expect it to. It is to be sacrificed."

  "You mean that every ship will be ordered to fight to a finish."

  "Yes; the loss of a score or so men-o'-war is a bagatelle to pay for the success of an operation of this magnitude. By their action they should so cripple the British Fleet that it will no longer be in any state either to blockade our ports effectively or protect more than a small part of the coast of England. Thus we shall be able to make subsidiary landings in other areas at an acceptable risk; and by the time the British have summoned their squadrons from the Mediterranean and the West Indies I shall be in London."

  Roger shook his head. "The plan sounds feasible enough but, saving your presence, I doubt the ability of any man to carry it out. I have good reason to hate the English, but I know them well. It is seven hundred years since the island was conquered; so they have freedom in their blood, and will resist far more desperately than would the people of any continental nation."

  "I tell you it is entirely a matter of troops and their handling. We shall have more-and better trained ones. Their generals, like those of the Austrians, are old and set in their ways. They will not stand a chance against me."

  "The whole country will swarm with partisans. You will find a man with a shotgun behind every hedge, and every village will become a death-trap."

  Buonaparte laughed, but it was not a pleasant laugh. "Don't worry! I shall find a means to subdue them. England is at the bottom of all our troubles, and sooner or later must be conquered. Until she is France will never enjoy her rightful place in the world; so it might as well be now. Once we get ashore there I'll be in London in a fortnight, and if need be I'll burn the capital to the ground unless these stubborn English submit to my will."

  This, coupled with what had gone before, was evidence enough that Roger had been right in his assessment that the Corsican would set about matters with complete ruthlessness, and having failed to damp his enthusiasm for the task it seemed pointless to produce further arguments against its chances of success; so he asked:

  In what month do you intend to launch this great operation?"

  "That depends on several things. There is much yet to be done. Hundreds of ships and barges will have to be collected, and great quantities of stores sent to the ports for loading into them. I shall need the whole of General Hoche's army. He favours the plan, but wishes himself to create a major diversion by leading a descent on Ireland. That would mean an unsound dispersal of our forces, so must be stopped. Then although the Directors are much interested in the project, they have not yet given a definite assent to my proceeding with the preparations."

  "Should they finally decide against it, what then?"

  "Then they must give me one of the other Armies. I have no intention of remaining here to act as their pet policeman."

  "You have been so successful at it that they may well insist upon your doing so."

  Buonaparte's dark eyes narrowed. "I do not think they will. They have failed to please every section of the people, even their own party. They are the pinnacle of a pyramid that has a hollow base. A single jolt would be enough to bring them tumbling down. They cannot afford to offend a man like myself."

  "Yes. I think you are right about that," Roger agreed. "All the same, for your own reputation, I could wish that you were pressing them for some other employment than the conquest of England."

  "I am, but they refuse it to me. England can wait. Her turn will come. First we should smash the Austrians in Italy. That is the task I covet beyond all else. I know something of that country already, and have made a special study of the rest. Look! I will show you how it should be done."

  Jumping up, he began, with hands which Roger noted again were remarkably shapely, to point at place after place on a map of Northern Italy affixed to the wall. As he spoke his fine eyes dilated, and it was evident that every mountain chain and valley of the country stood out as sharply as an etching in his mind. From the rapidity with which he outlined his plan it was clear that he must have already endeavoured to persuade many people of its possibilities. It had boldness, vision and grandeur—involving no less than the seizure of the Lombardy Plain, a great turning movement through the Alps to join up with the Army of the Rhine and, finally, an advance direct upon Vienna.

  When he had done, Roger asked: "What had the Directors to say to this great plan of yours?"

  "Carnot approves it and in such matters the others defer to his judgment But for some reason they are averse to entrusting me with its execution. He has sent it to General Scherer; but so timid a man as he is certain to reject it."

  "Then," smiled Roger, "you will have to content yourself with the conquest of Britain."

  "As spring is near upon us they must soon give me a decision on that matter. If it proved favourable I should like to take you with me. Your knowledge of these troublesome people may be of consider­able use. Will you, as you did with Barras, accept the rank of Colonel on my staff?"

  Roger stood up and bowed. "I should be honoured, Citizen General. You have only to let me know when you have received consent to proceed, and I will place myself unreservedly at your disposal."

  From this long interview Roger carried away only one fresh thought for comfort. The expedition had not yet been definitely decided upon. It was now for him to find out if the Directors really favoured the plan, and if so, use his utmost endeavours to change their minds, or at least try to prevent their giving so competent a man as Buonaparte the direction of it.

  That eveni
ng he spent a long time thinking over all that the Corsican had said, and particularly of his references to the Directory. There could be no doubt that it was extremely unpopular. The upper strata of Paris was still a sink of glittering iniquity which offended all respectable citizens; the middle-classes groaned under every form of vexatious restriction, and the poor were nightly dying by the score from cold and hunger; yet the Government appeared incapable of remedying any of these ills.

  Carnot was the only Director for whom anyone had the least respect, and he, as ever, concerned himself solely with the high direction of the war. The harmless military engineer Letourneur had, quite naturally, dropped into place as his assistant. It was said that the two always voted together, but on civil questions were always outvoted by the three rogues they had for colleagues.

  Barras, resting on the great prestige he had earned on 9th Thermidor and 13th Vendemiaire, apart from making an occasional brief, trenchant pronouncement, devoted himself entirely to his scandalous pleasures. Larevelliere-Lepeaux was a crank of the first order. As the leading light of a sect called the Theophilanthropists, which was a hotchpotch of Nature worship and the teachings of numerous philosophers, he gave all his endeavours to fighting the open return of Christianity. Rewbell, meanwhile, did the work and dominated the other four; but on account of his coarseness, brutality, cynicism and tyranny was the most hated man in the country.

  There being no hope of buying Buonaparte, Roger again considered the possibility of trying to buy one or more of the Directors; but all the old arguments decided him that such an attempt would be hopeless. An alternative was to try to get them turned out, in the hope that among a new set there might be men elected who would be more amenable to his purpose. Buonaparte had implied that should they get up against him he would do the job, but to incite him to it would be a dangerous game to play. It did not take Roger long to decide against risking such a move; for his interview that day had convinced him that the little Corsican might easily become a greater menace than any other man in France, and that somehow or other his guns must be spiked before he got more power than he had already. On that thought he went to bed.