“I’m getting ready to go on duty. Go talk to someone else.”
“It won’t take long and I brought a drink to chase away the fug of the night air. Will you join me?”
I flourished two bottles under his nose. I’d already found out that the man preferred wine from the Langudoc area. Not a taste I share myself. I bought a couple of bottles from one of the sutlers who followed the troops and hoped they might tempt him to talk to me.
They did. He laughed suddenly. “Ho! Who told you I liked sand wine?”
“A sutler. Says you buy from him often.”
“Well he was right, I do. I’ll crack one bottle with you, stranger, but when it’s finished, bugger off and let me get on with what I have to do.”
“I will.”
I can’t say I learned much from our meeting, although it enlightened me in some ways. At first I proceeded carefully, saying that the Emperor wanted me to make notes of the campaign for future publication. I thought it would be interesting to talk to the staff. I asked him about the journey and the coming battles as compared with others he had undertaken. He did not tell me anything of real interest, merely indicating that he thought the battles would be hard but that we would win. By happy chance we then found a mutual interest, fencing. Lebrun proved to be an advocate of the French school, with little time for the Italian, which he considered sissy. I changed the subject before our difference of opinion developed into an argument and forced me to defend my point of view physically. It surprised me that Lebrun was reputed to have few friends. We got on well enough, but then we’d only shared a single bottle, it was morning and we had an interest in common. Our talk turned to shooting and I bragged a little about hunting, to draw him out. He did not let it pass. I found out he had a passion for guns and owned two rifles and a pair of pistols that shot straight. He showed them to me and indeed they made me envious. I said so and told him that I did not own anything half so well balanced. He said that he had bought the guns at various times over the years and they had never let him down. At this moment his sergeant came to find him and we parted.
I was glad to have got the encounter over before his mood deteriorated. I found him good company, although I sensed the menace which did not lie far beneath his skin. One thing I was sure of — Lebrun possessed four very fine weapons, any one of which could kill the Emperor in the hands of an expert. I was walking away when his words hit me. Lebrun had owned his guns for years. Why would he need to risk buying yet another well-made rifle? He had effectively removed himself from suspicion.
I returned to the Emperor’s quarters in time to watch the bustle of preparation which heralded his departure. Lefebvre and Nathan were waiting for me.
“Any luck?” he greeted me and I told him what I had found out. I took some satisfaction in scribbling out Lebrun’s name from our list.
“There are two things to do next. First we get Nathan to take a last look at the others on the list, then he can go home. Second we set someone to watch all the ones who are left. The watchers should be prepared to shoot if anyone makes a wrong move.”
“Who do you want to do that?”
“It’s a job for Rousseau’s men. I’m going to find him now.”
“Stop a minute. Let me tell you what we found out.”
“I’ve seen three more of the men on your paper,” Nathan said. “None of them are the man I remember.”
“So that brings us down to how many?” I asked Lefebvre who had put the list back in his pocket.
“Our two marksmen, Rolland and Quarnet, plus another man called Torchier who has only recently joined the Maison and is not well known.”
“We may have missed somebody.”
“We may but whoever he is, he must act quickly now. Asking your friend Rousseau to set a guard on all three, if nothing else, might make the assassin think twice about risking a shot.”
“I agree,” I said and went off to find him.
Rousseau detailed three of his men to follow our suspects.
“Don’t let yourselves be seen, if possible,” I warned them. “We know this man is a killer, we just don’t know who he is. The man you follow may be entirely innocent but he might not. If you see anything suspicious, try to arrest the suspect. If you have to, shoot him. The Emperor won’t blame you for trying to keep him safe. Do you understand?”
They nodded and I rode back to join Lefebvre in a lighter frame of mind. It did not last long. I was riding up the line, passing some of the wagons in the convoy when I heard the sound of a shot ahead of me. A wagon staggered out of the line and came to an abrupt halt. I joined several troopers who came over to see what had happened. Two of them made for the trees which lined the road.
“A sniper,” one of the troopers said. “But why shoot at a wagon when there are many better targets all round us?”
I did not reply but I knew the answer. Sprawled across the chest of the wagon driver lay the body of Nathan David, shot neatly through the head.
The troopers who had ridden into the woods soon came back with little to report.
“What did you find?” I asked.
“Whoever he was got clean away,” one of them told me. “Didn’t think the cursed English were so close to us.”
“An Englishman you say? Why do you think that?”
“Who else would it be – either an Englishman or a Prussian, they’re both cowardly races, killing by stealth rather than face to face.”
“Did you see the man at all?” Lefebvre asked.
“No, only a shadow riding away among the trees. We followed but we couldn’t find him.”
“So you don’t know what uniform he wore?”
“No. I can tell you he was about medium height, wearing a cloak but no hat.”
I nodded and turned away.
“No wonder they lost him,” Lefebvre said. “A Frenchman would double back and mingle with the column. No one would notice.”
“And who but a Frenchman would have any interest in killing Nathan David?” I muttered. “The one man who could expose him for a traitor.”
“What do we do now?” Lefebvre asked crossing himself as he stared at the dead man. “He can’t tell us anything further.”
“I wonder…”
“What?”
“I wonder which of our suspects went missing at the time he was shot.”
“Yes, they’d have to be missing wouldn’t they? If they’d taken the shot in plain sight they’d have been shot themselves or arrested.”
“I’ll go and see what Rousseau’s men have to say after we’ve finished here. You stay with the Emperor. The assassin must be getting desperate to take such a risk.”
We wrapped Nathan’s body, put him in the back of the wagon and continued on to Beaumont, where we stopped for the night. As soon as the Emperor was safely under cover, Lefebvre and I buried Nathan in a corner of the local churchyard. We did not tell the priest his religion, so he did not object to him lying in consecrated ground. Rousseau found a fellow Jew for us and, when the priest left, this man muttered words which we did not understand. Lefebvre pulled out his knife and carved ‘ND 1815’ on the bark of a tree that shaded the grave.
“The best I can do for now,” he said, “but how am I going to tell Sarah that her boy is gone?” In the end, he did not have to undertake such a painful task, I did.
At least Nathan died cleanly of a single wound, rather than lingering on in agony for days. I reflected on this and the fact that whoever killed him was, indeed, a wonderful shot. The marksman picked out his target and hit it from a distance which would defy many others. If he was able to kill Nathan, he could certainly kill the Emperor and I wondered why he had not done so. I went to see the captain of the guard and recommended that he increase his precautions, which he agreed to do. Then Lefebvre and I requested Napoleon to see us.
He did so fleetingly, clearly begrudging the time he spent with us.
“Sire, our witness to the murder of the informer has been shot by a sniper.
It was a fine shot and he was the only one killed, when there were many other targets in the area,” I said. “The captain of the guard will increase the number of troops surrounding you, but I beg you, Sire, to be even more cautious about exposing yourself.”
Napoleon nodded. “I understand your concern but this plot has almost failed. We will be in the Low Countries tomorrow and I will join my army. Fouché reported that the assassin’s intention was to kill me before this happened. So you have only one more night and a day to keep me protected.”
“That may be all he needs, Sire.”
Napoleon smiled a grim smile. “And his timetable might be flexible, I know. Enough. I understand your concerns and I will act with as much caution as possible. But I am a soldier, about to go into battle where no soldier is ever safe. A stray shot may kill me as surely as an excellent one and rob your traitor of his glory. You have done well so far; continue for another twenty four hours and your job will be done.” Then he dismissed us and we went away unhappily. I had the uneasiness you get before the thunder starts and the air begins to tingle. It was not just the prospect of the battles to come. I remembered that feeling well and this was not the same. Something momentous was about to happen.
Neither of us was reassured by the Emperor’s manner. Rousseau came to see us late in the evening. He had not heard about Nathan’s death because he’d been in another part of the line. So I told him about the incident and its significance.
“Did any of your troops report the man he was following being out of their sight at the right moment?” I asked. “The assassin needed time to slip away from the column, find a place to shoot from, take the shot and leave. Then he’d circle round to make it seem as if he came from the opposite direction probably.”
“Two them,” Rousseau said grimly. “One went to relieve himself and couldn’t find his quarry when he returned. I’ve spoken to him and he won’t do that again in a hurry. The second said his man simply vanished before his eyes like a spectre. I’ve had a word with him as well.”
“So who was the man who did not disappear?” Lefebvre asked.
“Capitaine Torchier. My man kept him in his sight for the whole of the journey.”
“So our two marksmen, Quarnet and Rolland-Couteau are still in the picture.”
“Can you assign an additional man to Quarnet and Rolland-Couteau?” I asked Rousseau. “So that they each have two people following them.”
“Already done,” he replied. “I thought of that. I’ve assigned four of my best men to follow them. They won’t slip away again.”
He left us and the night passed quietly enough, although neither Lefebvre nor I slept very well. A few alarms occurred on the outskirts of the camp, due to the restlessness of men living in close proximity and nothing more sinister.
The Emperor rose very early next morning. There was a small balcony on the front of his lodging and he walked there, chatting with King Jérôme. He did not seem to have a care in the world but I was in a fever of apprehension.
“Look at him!” I cried to Lefebvre. “If he’s being cautious now, then I don’t want to see him being reckless.”
“Nor me.”
“Go up and persuade him to come inside.”
“I’ll try. What are you going to do?”
“See if I can spot anyone taking aim at him.”
Lefebvre hurried away and I borrowed a spy-glass to scan the surrounding area, especially the rooftops. It was a forlorn hope at best. If I saw the assassin, what could I do? Unless he was close to me, he had only to shoot and I would never catch him. I could feel icy sweat running down my back at the very thought. Fortunately, I saw no one. Presently, the Emperor turned around and spoke to someone in the room behind him. Then he and Jérôme left the balcony. I saw Lefebvre at the window. He waved to me.
Napoleon did not pay for his foolishness. The killer missed his chance and did not strike. Why he did not, I never found out. Shortly afterwards we left Beaumont for Charleroi. We crossed the Sambre, and marched into the town. The enemy were camped on a hill nearby and had to be driven back. By afternoon, the area was cleared. The Emperor climbed the hill and ordered the army to march past him in column. Another wonderful opportunity that the assassin failed to profit by, perhaps because we had as many men as Napoleon would allow surrounding him.
In the evening the Emperor insisted on touring the outposts before he retired to a house in the Place de Promenade in the centre of Charleroi. We went with him on his tour and so did his guards. We all kept peering through the darkness and the flickering flames of the torches and fires. Our hands were on our weapons and our senses alert, but no one challenged us and no bullet came out of the night.
“Napoleon bears a charmed life,” Lefebvre muttered to me as he retired to his lodgings.
“Thank God our task is nearly over,” I replied.
“If we’re lucky. I wonder why the assassin didn’t try today. He won’t have many better chances.”
“Who knows? Perhaps Rousseau’s men inhibited him,” I said but in my heart I did not believe it.
The Emperor did not get much sleep. During the night various officers of the staff kept coming and going, bringing him accounts of the movements made by the different enemy corps. Lefebvre and I took turns watching over him along with his guards. I kept a loaded pistol in my pocket. I started to draw it when Rolland-Couteau came into the room. He bowed to the Emperor and handed him a message. Rolland-Couteau must have caught my sudden movement because he cast me a quizzical glance while the Emperor was reading his missive. By that time I had my shaky nerves under control. The pistol was again hidden inside my coat, although it was now cocked and my finger was on the trigger. I nodded to him as the Emperor said, “No answer.” He bowed and left. I sank down into my seat with a sigh of relief, uncocking the pistol with a careful hand. I had been foolish. Rolland-Couteau certainly would never have left the room alive if he harmed Napoleon. The guard would have torn the man apart. Nevertheless, I felt sick and a little shaky for several hours afterwards.
Scouts arrived and the Prussians were reported to be at Namur. Marshal Ney had found the English and Dutch near the crossroads of Quatre Bras and expected to give battle in the morning. Another report made the Emperor go storming around the room. It seemed that General Bourmont had defected to the enemy.
“He knows our position and my plans!” Napoleon fumed. “I will have to change all our depositions!”
As a result of this, messengers came and went in increased numbers and the scribes nearly worked their fingers to the bone. Among the men summoned was Quarnet. I had a chance to examine him, while he was waiting for a reply to the message he had brought. He was a thin dark man who looked as if a breath of wind would knock him over. Could he be the assassin who had killed Nathan and his father? To look at him, I doubted it. Then I remembered other men who appeared slight but had been capable of evil deeds. The way a man looks, I reminded myself, was no clue to his mind. I kept Quarnet covered by my pistol for safety, of course, but he, too, made no move and left quietly with his letter.
At last the Emperor retired, saying he would make a late start in the direction of Fleurus. This would give time for his messages to be delivered and acted upon. It was the middle of the night when he went to bed and nearly ten in the morning before we clattered out of Charleroi. By now our forward ranks were in touch with strong columns of the enemy but we did not yet have sufficient troops to offer battle, or so Rousseau reported.
“Though it may only be scuttlebutt,” he warned us.
“What do you think?” I asked the veteran soldier.
“I think there will be a battle before the evening,” he replied.
Rumour seemed to be correct. When we reached Fleurus, the Emperor took over the windmill of Naveau, which stood on a hill outside the town. It gave him a good view over the rolling countryside, where the opening engagement would be fought. It was possible to see the enemy now, grouped on the plain before us. But we made no
move and I wondered what the Emperor was waiting for. “Reinforcements,” one of the officers told me when I asked.
I was pleased at the thought that the plot against the Emperor had failed. Napoleon was in command of the army and about to give battle. From now on, his safety would be in the hands of his soldiers, but Lefebvre and I had not yet been dismissed. We had not seen Napoleon since he arrived at the windmill. He spent the time conferring with his officers inside the building, which was too small for all of us to be in the same area. The ADCs, messengers and equerries were sent on various errands, the two suspects among them. Neither of them had done anything unusual so far. I felt sure the assassin was Quarnet, for no better reason than the way he looked. Lefebvre had begun to favour Rolland-Couteau, who he had found out had few resources and lived on his pay.
“Such men will do much for money,” Lefebvre said when we discussed it.
“What about the jewel?” I asked him. “That’s worth a fortune.”
“Not if it’s locked in Moses David’s safe,” he retorted, which was true.
We never resolved the argument. Lefebvre went to check the area surrounding the mill and reported, “It’s not good, mon brave. There’s some thick woodland, where a sniper might hide.”
“Can we cut it back?”
“No time. Look at the sun. It’s half way through the afternoon. If there’s going to be a battle today, the barrage will start soon.”
“Have the reinforcements arrived?”
“So they say. Certainly there are more troops here than there were earlier in the day.”
I felt my skin crawl as it always used to do before a fight. I started to sweat.
“Take over will you? I need some fresh air.”
I went out to see the troop positions for myself. I also wanted to find Rousseau, so I walked in the direction of the Imperial Guards. The light was strong but starting to throw shadows, for it was a couple of hours past midday. Some birds sang among the trees.
When I looked down from the edge of the hill, I agreed with Lefebvre it could not be long now. I started to run. Once the battle started, everyone would be on the move and a single man would be impossible to find. I was about half way from the windmill to the ranks of the guards when I saw Rousseau hurrying to meet me. He was sweating and had obviously been running, despite his high boots and the blow to his dignity.
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