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Authors: Dennis Wheatley

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‘A law has been passed which will greatly increase the size of the French Armies,' Sir William replied. ‘It was proposed by General Jourdan that the whole manpower of France should be subject to conscription. All young men between the ages of twenty and twenty-five are now liable to military service. They are to be registered by their Departments and, in groups from the age of twenty, will be called up as required.'

‘That can mean no more,' Roger suggested, ‘than the
levée-en-masse
that Carnot instituted when France was hard pressed by the Monarchies during the early years of the Revolutionary Wars.'

‘I think it does,' the Ambassador countered. ‘That was only an emergency measure, whereas this is a piece of permanent legislation. It is the first time that the youth of a nation has been required, upon reaching a certain age, to report automatically for military service. That is an entirely new conception of the duty a man owes to his country. It may well spread to other nations.'

‘What of the Directory?' Roger asked. ‘Is the personnel the same?'

‘There has been no change since last May. In the middle of that month François de Neufchâteau drew the retiring ballot and was replaced by an ex-member of the Regicide Convention named Treilhard. At the same time the Directors
again declared several Deputies, newly elected to the Assembly, to be Royalist conspirators, and arbitrarily threw them out. But I expect you will have heard about that.'

Roger shook his head. ‘Word of Treilhard's appointment failed to reach us before we sailed from Toulon on May 19th; and since then little news has trickled through to Egypt. I take it that matters are no better with the unfortunate Swiss or the people of Piedmont.'

‘Alas, no. The brave Swiss are suffering an appalling martyrdom at the hands of those pitiless fiends. As for Italy, as I told you yesterday it is a seething cauldron of strife from Rome northwards. The larger cities are still held by the French, but the country outside them is in a state of complete lawlessness. Men, women and even bands of precocious children fall upon solitary travellers and tear them limb from limb to get hold of their money and such provisions as they may have with them and, if they secure nothing better, they cook and eat their horses.'

For a further half-hour they talked on then Roger took his leave, having promised to attend the Monday reception at the Embassy. He accepted out of curiosity to see who among the Neapolitan aristocracy remained friendly to the British, or deemed it expedient to continue to court them. Now that he had grown a beard and could be introduced as Robert MacElfic, he regarded as negligible the risk of anyone he had met ten years ago in Naples identifying him as Roger Brook.

Next day, December 5th,
Vanguard
entered the bay, bringing Nelson back from a bloodless victory. When he had appeared with his Squadron off Leghorn and had threatened to bombard the port, the pro-revolutionary Municipal Council had promptly surrendered and, accompanied by its French ‘advisers', fled. The five thousand Neapolitan troops had been landed with their cannon and baggage and would, it was hoped, enable the Grand Duke to clear the French out of Tuscany.

But the gallant little Admiral's reception was very different from that which had greeted him on September 22nd when he had arrived with his Fleet from the Battle of the Nile. Then King Ferdinand, clad in gala attire, had done him the unprecedented
honour of sailing three leagues out into the bay to greet him. Neapolitan bands had learned to play ‘Rule, Britannia' and ‘See the Conquering Hero Comes' for the occasion. Every ship for miles along the coast and the whole waterfront had been decked with flags and they were crammed with a hundred thousand cheering people. Emma, who naturally accompanied the royal party, had flung her arms round the Admiral's neck then collapsed weeping with happiness on the deck. The King and Queen had declared him to have been sent by God to save Italy, and their young son had said that every morning he would stand in front of a portrait of the hero and pray to grow up like him.

Now the Fleet was scattered. One Squadron under Trou-bridge was blockading the Roman coast, another under Bell was blockading Malta and the remainder under Hood were still blockading Egypt. There was no reception of any kind; no thunder of saluting cannon, no flags, no cheering thousands. The Admiral went ashore and, almost unnoticed, made his way up to the Palazzo Sessa.

There, as Roger learned later, he was met by most disturbing news. A rumour had come in that Mack's Army had suffered a severe defeat and that the General himself had been made a prisoner.

During the following two days the fact that things were going wrong became common knowledge in the city. Scores of Neapolitan gentry who, although knowing nothing of war, had gaily gone off in beautiful uniforms to fight now suddenly reappeared in civilian clothes making every sort of specious excuse for having left the Army. The accounts they gave of the campaign showed that it was being hopelessly mismanaged. Even during the victorious advance the organisation had been so bad that for three days the majority of the troops had been without rations, and the King himself had lacked food for thirty-six hours.

To escape from this atmosphere of uncertainty and depression, Rogert spent the Saturday revisiting Pompeii; but his excursion did little to cheer him. Memories of his previous visit provided too great a contrast. Then, with Isabella and a gay party, he had picnicked there and they had had Sir William—a great authority on Roman civilisation—to
give them a graphic description of the city as it must once have been, and of the terrible eruption that had overwhelmed it.

On Sunday he made another excursion, this time up to the crater of Vesuvius. He thought the huge bowl of lava, with its crisp crust of snow round the edge, tremendously impressive, but despite the wintry sunshine it was terribly cold up there; so he was glad to get down again to the shelter of trees and houses. It was only when he was among them that he realised he had hardly looked at the magnificent view over the bay, as his mind during the long trudge had been almost entirely occupied by gloomy speculations about what might happen if the Neapolitan Army had actually been defeated.

When Monday evening came he attended Sir William's weekly
conversazione
. Instead of the two hundred or more people usually to be seen at these gatherings, bowing, curtseying and chattering over wine and delicacies, the fine, pillared salon and the adjacent rooms were almost empty. There was barely a score of people present and nearly all were men with anxious faces; but among them was Nelson, who when in Naples always made the Embassy his headquarters.

Emma received Roger most graciously and, after they had exchanged a few platitudes, asked for his arm to lead her to the buffet. On the way there she raised her fan and whispered to him behind it, ‘Our slayer of dragons wishes to speak with you. At the moment that tiresome Prince Pignatelli is monopolising him, but we will break in upon them.' Then she changed direction slightly and bore down on the Admiral

When she had curtseyed and the three men had exchanged bows she said, ‘Permit me to present to you, dear gallant Sir Horatio, and to Your Highness, Mr. Robert MacElfic who is on a visit to Naples.'

There were more bows and the elderly Prince smiled at Roger. ‘I fear, Mr. MacElfic, you have chosen a most unfortunate time to visit our beautiful city.' Then he added, with the unfailing hospitality of the Italians, ‘Nevertheless, if I can assist you to see something of it I shall be most happy to do so.'

As Roger thanked him, Nelson asked with his usual impetuosity, ‘Where are you from, Mr. MacElfic, and how long is it since you arrived here?'

‘I have been in Naples a week, sir, and have come from Crete.'

‘Ah, Crete!' exclaimed the Admiral. ‘You are just the man I wish to see, then. Now the Turks have become our allies I am anxious to know how their preparations for war are going forward in that island.'

‘Come, Prince,' Emma tactfully laid her hand on Pignatelli's arm. ‘Pray take me to the buffet and find me a glass of wine.'

As they moved away, Nelson said to Roger, ‘We'll be less likely to be interrupted in one of the smaller rooms.' Then he turned abruptly and, with Roger beside him, walked quickly through a doorway into a drawing room panelled in yellow satin.

Halting in front of the marble mantelpiece, he turned, his drawn features flashed into an enchanting smile and he said, ‘Now, Mr. Brook, my thanks and heartiest congratulations. You see how right I was to persuade you to return to Cairo? The despatches you secured for us are invaluable.'

Roger returned the smile. ‘I am glad, sir, though my obtaining of them was largely due to luck.'

‘Luck, maybe; but courage and resource must also have been needed to get away with them. My old friend Chris must be proud to have such a son. Your long report, too, I read with the greatest interest, although I must admit that I was very disappointed by it.'

‘In what way, sir?'

‘Why, I had hoped that a good half of those atheist dogs in Cairo were by now dead of starvation, the Arab pox or the plague. Instead, you tell us they are erecting windmills to grind the corn, planting vineyards and even amusing themselves by opening cafés like those they have in Paris.'

‘I would I had better news for you. But the French are determined to surmount the difficulties which have arisen from your having cut them off, and their Army shows no sign of disintegrating. It is, of course, General Bonaparte's genius for administration which accounts for their still-high morale.'

‘That emissary of the Devil!' Nelson's bright eye flashed angrily. ‘But I forgot. At Aboukir you made it plain to me that you have a sneaking admiration for … for this man that I can think of only as the very personification of Evil.'

Roger had the temerity to smile. ‘It is said, sir, that one should give the Devil his due. If General Mack had a one-hundredth part of Bonaparte's organising ability the Neapolitan Army would not be in its present alarming situation.'

The Admiral's smile suddenly returned. ‘Well said, Mr. Brook. You have certainly made your point there.' After a moment he added, with a shake of the head, ‘Everything seems to have gone awry and I am bitterly disappointed. Until my return here last Wednesday I had the greatest hopes for this new war against those devilish French.'

‘It is said, sir, that you encouraged the Neapolitans to enter on it, though I could scarce believe that.'

‘Why so? We had good reason to believe that the French were planning the conquest of King Ferdinand's territories, and I told His Majesty roundly that either he must attack while the French in middle Italy were still weak or stand to lose his throne.'

‘Since the French were unlikely to be reinforced for some time, would it not have been wiser to wait until Austria was fully committed to make war again on the Republic?'

The little Admiral drew himself up and said haughtily, ‘Do you presume, Mr. Brook, to question my judgment?'

‘Sir,' Roger replied. ‘I have on occasion questioned the judgment of Mr. Pitt and, hate Bonaparte as you may, that of the greatest soldier of our age. I had, therefore, thought that I might speak my mind to the greatest sailor of our age. But if I have presumed I pray your pardon.'

Nelson, ever susceptible to flattery, instantly relaxed. ‘I see now how you have achieved your extraordinary position. It takes more courage to criticise one's superiors to their faces than to stand up to shot and shell. You consider that I acted rashly. Well, perhaps I did. But a great part of the success with which God has blessed me has been due to my attacking the enemy without counting the odds. In this case the odds favoured Naples by four to one, and by swift action I felt they stood a good chance of throwing our enemies out
of a large part of Italy. Remember, the French nation has become a hydra-headed monster and, if our Christian civilisation is to be saved, we must seek at all times to destroy a part of that monster with every means that becomes available. That is my doctrine and no considerations will ever deter me from practising it.'

Roger bowed. ‘It is that, sir, which has earned you the love and admiration of our whole nation. But about the present. A hundred rumours are running round the city. Would you do me the favour of telling me to the best of your knowledge how matters really stand?'

‘Willingly,' came the prompt reply. ‘It is only right that men like yourself should know the truth and what we may expect. The rumour that General Mack has been taken prisoner is unfounded. But the French have driven back the right wing of his Army and captured all its artillery and baggage. Most of its officers have shamefully deserted and it has now become a rabble. At Castellana the French are holding a strong position with thirteen thousand troops, and Mack is said to be moving against them with twenty thousand. Should he prove successful, all is far from being lost. He might then still hold the fortified line of the frontier; but, frankly, I have grave doubts of his ability to defeat the French.

‘Shortly after my arrival I was received by Her Gracious Majesty, Queen Caroline, whose splendid courage is our main support in our endeavours against the enemy. I found her heartbroken at the shocking performance of the Neapolitan Army. God knows, the officers had not much honour to lose, but they lost any they had. Her Majesty told me that the Divisions of Generals San Filippo and Micheroux had turned and run thirty miles at the mere sight of the French. San Filippo, instead of running, saved his skin by going over to the enemy. The Prince of Taranto displayed such cowardice that King Ferdinand tore his epaulettes from his shoulders with his own hands. I have always found that Italians are brave men individually but when regimented as soldiers they seem to go all to pieces. To be honest, I now fear the worst.'

‘Should what remains of General Mack's Army be driven
in upon the city, do you think there is any hope of holding it?' Roger enquired.

BOOK: The Sultan's Daughter
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