Evil in a Mask (55 page)

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Authors: Dennis Wheatley

BOOK: Evil in a Mask
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Napoleon scowled. ‘You have the effrontery to tell me that on this slender chance you ignored my commands and absented yourself from duty for many months?'

‘That is not so. I did my utmost for you both in Turkey and Persia, then …'

‘Then, instead of accompanying Gardane's Mission to India, you told him some cock-and-bull story about going off on your own to Goa.'

‘It was as good an excuse as I could think of to leave his Mission.'

‘Excuse to chase this woman who had besotted you back to Europe, instead of obeying my instructions regarding the Mahratta Princes.'

‘I told you, Sire, before leaving Poland that, although I had once crossed India, I knew little of that vast country, and I considered that I could serve you better …'

The Emperor's eyes blazed and his face was becoming purple, as he bellowed, ‘So you set yourself up to be a better judge of my interests than I am.'

‘Sire!' Roger held up a warning hand. ‘I beg you to have a care. Last time we had a … a slight difference of opinion, you …'

‘Slight,
mon Dieu
! You had seduced my sister Pauline, and had the infernal impudence to ask my consent to your marrying her.'

Roger managed to force a laugh. ‘Oh, come, Sire. 'Twas she who seduced me; and you know her amorous inclinations well enough to believe that. I was about to say, though, that our interview ended by Your Majesty's having an epileptic fit.'

Turning away, Napoleon began to walk up and down, his hands clasped behind his back, as he fought to regain control of himself; then he muttered, ‘Yes … yes. That is true. But no-one must know of these … these occasional attacks. You have not mentioned it?'

‘Is that likely? I am Your Majesty's most loyal servant.'

‘Fiddlesticks! Were that so you would not have disobeyed me.'

‘It was in your interests. The lady concerned is the daughter of the Marquis de Pombal. He was the Portuguese Ambassador in Isfahan.'

‘I know it.'

‘Very well then. He was recalled to Lisbon. As one of the most trusted advisers of Don Joao he would have been privy to all the Prince Regent's secrets, and I would have learned them through his daughter. Knowing from long past Your Majesty's designs on Portugal, I decided …'

‘So that is your story. You are as plausible as ever. But I do not believe it. Fathers do not divulge State secrets to their daughters. And how, pray, did you think to serve me by going off to Brazil?'

‘It was not my intention. I was aboard a ship endeavouring to influence de Pombal into persuading Don Joao to postpone the sailing of the fleet, in order to give Junot time to arrive and capture it. A storm blew up, I could not get back to shore, and was carried off to Brazil against my will.'

‘Junot! That bungler! What a mess he made of things.'

‘You are unfair, Sire. Junot performed a miracle by reaching Lisbon at all. He led his troops through storm, flood and a land naked of provisions. His army of thirty thousand literally fell to pieces. When he did arrive, he had left only fifteen hundred starving men.'

‘But he failed, he failed! And I accept no excuses for failure.'

Roger decided that the time had come to take the offensive, and he burst out with simulated anger:

‘I know it! And you should be ashamed of yourself for having denied poor Junot his Marshal's baton. He, I and scores of your other old friends go through fire for you and suffer incredible hardships. Yet, if fate thwarts our efforts, what do we get from you? Only kicks and curses. Why any of us should continue to serve such a master, I cannot think.'

Halting in his stride, the Emperor bellowed, ‘How dare you talk to me like this? How dare you? In all my Army, no other officer has the impertinence to address me in such a manner.'

‘They are professional soldiers, trained to unquestioning obedience,' Roger snapped back. ‘I am not; and I speak my mind to you for your own good. Time was when you would listen to reason. But that is so no longer. You rate yourself the
new Charlemagne, with all Europe as your footstool. You have made your incompetent brothers puppet Kings, and looted a dozen countries of their riches. But you are not a Habsburg nor a Romanoff. Your Empire was created only yesterday, and is built on sand. It is maintained by terror, oppression and the loyalty of your old friends. If you continue to treat them so ungenerously and reject the advice of such men as Talleyrand …'

‘Talleyrand! That venal scoundrel?'

‘Yes, Talleyrand.' Roger sprang to his friend's defence. ‘The greatest statesman France has produced since the Cardinal-Duke de Richelieu. Do you ignore his counsel and that of others who see clearly the best interests of France, your Empire will come crashing about your ears.'

‘Not while I live! Not while I live!'

‘It will. You have come to believe yourself infallible. But you are not. You are bleeding France to death, and by keeping your head above the clouds, will bring about her utter ruin.'

‘
Sacré nom
! You must have taken leave of your senses. I'll not tolerate such insolence for another moment. You shall rue the day you had the effrontery to question the wisdom of my policies.'

Roger saw that he had gone too far, but now there could be no drawing back. He might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb. Inflamed by genuine anger, he cried contemptuously:

‘Your policies! And where have they led us? Talleyrand endeavoured to persuade you to give reasonable terms to Prussia. Instead you robbed her of half her lands and she is longing for the chance to stab you in the back. He begged you to make Austria your friend. Instead you filched from her vast territories which she has ruled for centuries. While she licks her wounds she is recruiting new armies to have at you again as soon as she is strong enough.'

‘Stop, I say! Stop!' roared the Emperor.

‘I'll not stop,' Roger flung back. ‘Talleyrand did his utmost to dissuade you from going into Spain; but you ignored his advice. And look at the result. Your maltreatment of their
royal family has raised such indignation among the people of Spain that the whole country has risen in arms against you, and …'

‘A rabble! I'll soon drive those mangy curs back into their kennels.'

‘On the contrary, it is they who will drive your troops into the fortresses and besiege them there. Again and again Talleyrand has advised you to make peace with England. Instead you are endeavouring to bring her to her knees by your “Continental System”. And at what a price. Discontent throughout your whole Empire through depriving millions of people of …'

‘Peace with England!' The Emperor banged his fist violently on his desk. ‘Never! Commerce has always been their strength. They are a nation of shopkeepers; and by my measures I'll break them yet.'

With equal violence, Roger thrust out an accusing finger. ‘You are no longer the great First Consul who restored law and prosperity to France. The lust for power has unbalanced your mind. If you do not cease to play the part of God without his wisdom, you will become known as the “mad Emperor”.'

Napoleon was again going purple in the face. ‘I'll hear no more!' he screamed. ‘What you have said is
lese majesté
. I could have you shot for it.'

Roger had known from the beginning that he had little chance of walking out of the room a free man. Now indignation had led him to burn his boats entirely. His eyes blazing, he shouted back:

‘Shoot me then. I give not a damn. I'll be no more than another of the million men who, for your selfish ends, you have caused to die on battlefields.'

For a full minute the Emperor remained silent, breathing heavily. Then, as often happened after being shaken by one of his terrible rages, his anger drained away, and he said quietly:

‘Nay, I will not do that. You saved my life that night when we were together on an island outside Venice. I now give you yours. I will go further. I'll not hold against you what you
have just said of me. It was due only to your mind not being large enough to appreciate that my acts, of which you disapprove, were necessary in carrying out my great designs.'

Suddenly his voice became harsh as he went on, ‘But in my service I have no place for deserters. That you neglected my interests to pursue this woman, I am convinced. I hereby deprive you of your rank, of your status as a Commander of the
Legion d'Honneur
, and sentence you to five years' imprisonment in a fortress.'

Roger paled. He had expected no more than a sentence of six months, or a year at the worst. There was nothing more he could say or do. He had hopelessly overplayed his hand and lost.

Then, as the Emperor put out his hand to the bell which would summon the escort, a side door in the big salon was thrown open and Josephine came running in.

In her hand the Empress held several sheets of parchment, covered with close writing. ‘Napoleon!' she cried. ‘I have news! The most wonderful news.' Then she threw her arms round her husband and kissed him.

Frowning at being disturbed, he half drew back and asked testily, ‘News? What news?'

Josephine was about to reply when she caught sight of Roger. Turning, she ran towards him, with both hands outstretched, as she exclaimed, ‘Why, here is the hero of it all! Our paladin! Our Sir Galahad! The most valiant gentleman in all France. How right they were to name you
le brave Breuc.
'

Roger took her hands and kissed them. He had been a close friend of Josephine's for many years. Over those years he had often given her sound advice. By saving her reputation he had enabled her marriage to Napoleon to take place. Later, when Napoleon had threatened divorce on account of her infidelities, Roger had again saved the situation. There had been an occasion when she had saved his life. Her present outburst left him entirely at a loss. Wildly his mind clutched at the thought that she might save him now.

Napoleon, equally puzzled, exclaimed, ‘Come! What is all this about?'

Gaily she waved the long letter. ‘This should have reached me ten days ago, had it not had to be sent on from Paris. It is from Turkey; from my beloved cousin Aimée Dubucq. All is changed. There has been another revolution there. When Baraiktar, the Pasha of Rustchuk, learned how Mustapha and his evil mother had dethroned the Sultan Selim, he marched his army from distant Bulgaria to Constantinople, surprised those devilish Janissaries and defeated them. Poor Selim is dead. He gave his life while the Seraglio was being stormed, to defend his young cousin, Mahmoud. Mustapha is now a prisoner and Mahmoud proclaimed Sultan. The prophecy of our youth, that Aimée and I would wear crowns, came true, and now the last part of it will follow. Dear Aimée's son, the enlightened friend of France, will reign gloriously.'

‘This is indeed good news,' agreed the Emperor. ‘But what has all this to do with Breuc?'

‘Had it not been for him, Aimée, Selim and Mahmoud would all have been murdered on the night that the Janissaries revolted.' Josephine again waved the letter. ‘It is all here. He was in the Seraglio that night, dining with them
en famille
. When they heard the screams of the eunuchs who were being slaughtered, and the Janissaries began breaking down the doors of the apartment, Selim resigned himself to death. But
le brave Breuc
took command. He got them all up a chimney on to the roof, then, at great peril, out of the Seraglio to a boat in which they rowed up the Bosphorus to a castle with a loyal garrison. It was that which enabled them to parley and so save their lives.'

The Emperor stared at Roger. ‘Gardane told me nothing of this.'

Roger bowed. ‘Why should he, Sire? It was, like my last, a private venture; and differs only in that it did not fail. As a result of it I am happy to think that I preserved not only the Empress' dear friend, but a Sultan whose pro-French leaning should prove of value to Your Majesty.'

‘You must decorate him!' Josephine cried. ‘Make him a Count, or at least a Baron.'

Frowning, Napoleon said curtly, ‘On the contrary, Madame, I have sentenced him to five years in prison.'

‘Prison! No; it is unthinkable. What can he possibly have done to incur so great a measure of your displeasure?'

‘He is a deserter. Instead of obeying my orders to go to India, he came to Lisbon and has since absented himself from my service for many months.'

Josephine's big dark eyes flashed angrily. ‘Is that so great a crime when, for many years, he has served you faithfully? And I doubt not he had a good reason for absenting himself.'

‘He did so to pursue a woman.'

The anger in Josephine's eyes swiftly disappeared. Throwing back her head, she laughed, for once showing her only bad feature—uneven, discoloured teeth. ‘Now I am truly amazed,' she said to her husband. ‘Even my great Eagle does not give all his life to waging war and affairs of State. How can he expect lesser men not at times to give way to the most natural of temptations?'

Roger knew what that laugh had cost her. During the early years of her marriage, Josephine had been flagrantly unfaithful to Napoleon. But time had wrought a change in her. Not only had she become devoted to him, but his infidelities to her pained her greatly. She had made light of a man neglecting his duty for a woman only to strike a spark of sympathy in Napoleon's mind for the frailty of which Roger was accused.

A cynical smile twisted Napoleon's lips for a second. ‘In one sense you are right, my dear. Certain impulses must be satisfied unless a man's work is to suffer from their repression. But Breuc has overstepped the mark by indulging his own inclinations for far too long.'

‘Sire,' Roger protested swiftly, ‘I erred only in going to

Lisbon, as I thought in your best interests, instead of to India.

To Brazil I was carried off against my will.'

‘Do you swear that?'

‘I do, Sire; upon my honour.'

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