The Ravishing of Lady Mary Ware (11 page)

Suddenly Davout said sharply, ‘Well, Breuc; have you lost your tongue? Were you at Schloss Langenstein last September? You must answer His Excellency's accusation. Come now, speak up.'

‘I was, Your Highness,' Roger replied. ‘But I was there on the orders of His Majesty the Emperor.'

‘For what purpose?'

‘You must excuse me if I refuse to answer that, without first obtaining the Emperor's permission.'

‘I see. And what of the charge? Did you bring about the death of the Baron and your wife?'

‘Their deaths were, Your Highness, an accident. I swear to that.'

‘It is a lie,' stormed the Prussian. ‘This man was having an affaire with my brother's wife, and made off with her. That very afternoon his own wife and my brother were found dead in the bottom of a wine press. He, and no-one else, had both the motive and opportunity to murder them.'

Roger realised that if he admitted to having, with Georgina's aid, carried them from their rooms and lowered them into the press, his case would be hopeless; so he said quickly, ‘Anyone who was living in the Schloss had the opportunity, and how do you know that no-one other than myself had a motive? The Baron was a hard master. He may have behaved brutally to one of his servants, and the man resolved to be revenged upon him.'

‘Had that been the case, the man would not also have killed your wife,' von Haugwitz snapped.

‘He might have. All four of us had separate rooms, and the Baron and my wife were lovers. On going to the
Baron's room in the middle of the night, the murderer would probably have found her with him. If so, he would have killed her to prevent her raising the alarm. I had no hand in the matter. I swear it.'

The Minister's face was white with rage and hatred. ‘I do not believe that for one second,' he snarled, ‘and I demand that you be handed over to the Prussian authorities to stand your trial.'

Roger turned swiftly to de Brinevillers. ‘In Your Excellency's Embassy I am on French soil. As a Frenchman I claim sanctuary.'

The Ambassador looked uncomfortably, first at von Haugwitz then at Roger and said, ‘
Monsieur le Colonel Comte
, if this were a political charge, I should, of course, be in a position to protect you. But this is a criminal charge.'

‘Even so,' Roger insisted, ‘I claim your protection. And I do so in the name of His Majesty the Emperor. As I have told you, I went to Schloss Langenstein on his business. I am told that, after my departure, a warrant was issued for my arrest. On arriving back in Paris, I gave His Majesty an account of this whole affair. Realising that it would not be safe for me to re-enter Prussia, I asked him to take steps to quash the charge. He willingly agreed, and said he would inform the Prussian Ambassador, the Baron von Brockenhausen, that he desired the warrant to be withdrawn. Of this there must be a record at your Ministry of Justice.'

‘This is another lie,' declared von Haugwitz. ‘Were that the case, as this affair concerns me so closely, it is certain that I should have been informed of it.'

Again de Brinevillers looked uneasily at Davout. ‘Your Highness will, I am sure, agree that this is a very delicate matter, so I should like to discuss it with you in private.'

The Marshal nodded. ‘Very well. I suggest that
Colonel
le Comte de Breuc
should retire to a room where he can be placed under guard. When we have dined, you and I will decide on what is to be done.' Turning to his A.D.C., he added, ‘Marchand, take de Breuc to the small library. I make you responsible for his safe keeping.'

As Roger, his head held high, was escorted from the room, he heard the Ambassador apologising to his guests that the recent scene should have taken place in their presence. There followed a burst of excited conversation, which faded as he walked through the big hall and accompanied the A.D.C. into a small library at the far end.

The room had two tall windows looking out on to a large garden. For a moment he contemplated escaping by one of them. But, to do so, he would have to kill, or render unconscious the A.D.C. Such a desperate act could be taken as an admission of guilt. In any case, it would set Davout and de Brinevillers irrevocably against him, and his only hope lay in their protection.

The A.D.C. was a pleasant man and expressed his sympathy. Roger thanked him, then turned away, as he had no desire to talk and a great need to think.

It could be that the Emperor had forgotten to make his wishes known to von Brockenhausen; but that seemed unlikely as Napoleon's memory was phenomenally good. Again the Prussian Ambassador might have failed to pass on the wish to the proper quarter in Berlin. Yet again it was possible that the memo did lie in a file at the Ministry of Justice and that von Haugwitz had not been told about it. Still again, his ardent desire to avenge the death of his brother might have led him to lie deliberately when he had asserted that he knew nothing about the document.

Whichever was the case, Roger would never have dreamed of entering Prussia had he not felt confident that the whole matter had been cleared up and no charge
would be made against him. But it was pointless to think of that now. He could only curse himself for having taken the matter for granted, and wonder with no little fear what the outcome would be.

Only too well he realised how unlucky he was that his fate should lie in the hands of two such men as de Brinevillers and Davout. The
ci-devant
aristocrat, who could no longer call himself a Marquis, obviously had an antipathy for Napoleon's people, and would be particularly unsympathetic toward one who had been made a Count; while the dour Marshal would not lift a finger to save a man whom he regarded as having once been a deserter.

Over three hours elapsed while Roger endured this terrible suspense. During that time no food was brought to him or his companion and, at length, he asked the A.D.C. if he could have a glass of wine. The officer shook his head, and replied:

‘I regret,
Monsieur le Colonel
, but I dare not leave the room. His Highness the Marshal is extraordinarily strict; even more so with his officers than with his men, and particularly so with those in positions of responsibility. He visits any dereliction of duty with the most condign punishments, and my duty is to see that you do not escape.'

‘Then, damn it, man,' Roger replied angrily, ‘use your head. Put it out of the door and shout for a bottle.'

Apologetically the A.D.C. did as he was bid and, soon afterwards, they were silently drinking hock together. Some twenty minutes later, Davout and de Brinevillers came in.

Addressing Roger, the Ambassador said, ‘
Monsieur le Colonel Comte
, His Highness and I have discussed your affair, and I regret that, the charge being a criminal one, I cannot see my way to give you sanctuary here in the Embassy.'

‘But, Your Excellency,' Roger pleaded, ‘you do not seem to realise that, should you hand me over to the Prussians, it may cost me my life.'

‘You maintain that you are innocent,' Davout remarked coldly. ‘If that is so, you will be acquitted.'

‘Not necessarily, Prince. Unfortunately, the circumstances in which these deaths took place are very strongly against me. And, against the possibility of an unjust verdict being given, as a French officer it is your duty to give me your protection.'

Davout's eyes narrowed, and his brows drew down in an icy frown, as he asked, ‘Do you presume to teach me my duty?'

‘Yes,' replied Roger firmly. ‘Not to myself, but to the Emperor. As I have told you, it was his wish that the charge against me should be withdrawn. If, through some error, his request—which to these damned Prussians is tantamount to an order—has not reached them, I insist that I be given asylum in the Embassy until a courier has been despatched to His Majesty and returned with his decision.'

‘Very well,' the Marshal agreed. ‘Your request is not unreasonable. A courier shall be sent to the Emperor. But in the meantime the decision does not rest with me. It is for His Excellency to say.'

De Brinevillers shuffled uncomfortably and, with his eyes avoiding Roger's, muttered, ‘Prussia is our ally,
Monsieur le Colonel
. It is my responsibility to maintain harmonious relations with King Frederick William's government, and his Chief Minister has made a personal issue of this. As you are charged with a criminal offence of the first order, he has right on his side. I cannot afford to quarrel with him over a matter that has no bearing on the sovereign rights of France. He has already sent here an escort for you, and a formal demand that you should be handed over. I fear that I must comply with it.'

For several minutes longer Roger argued and pleaded in turn, but without avail. The only concession he could secure was a promise that de Brinevillers would use his influence to ensure that no trial took place until there had been ample time for a courier to go to Paris and return. Five minutes later he was under arrest, sitting beside a Lieutenant of Police in a closed carriage that drove off accompanied by a mounted escort.

The carriage halted in the courtyard of a large, bleak building that was obviously a prison. Roger was taken inside and put in a narrow but clean cell. He asked for food and a quarter of an hour later a warder brought him a
bredchen
, in which had been inserted a thick slice of veal, and a mug holding what looked like coffee. Setting down the mug, the man said with a malicious grin:

‘No doubt you'll enjoy this. It's a true Frenchie brew made of acorns, as prescribed for us all now by your pig of an Emperor.'

Roger made no reply, and he knew it would be futile to report the man, as it was quite certain no action would be taken against him for insulting the sovereign of France. He thought it probable that the warder's attitude incficated the way in which most Germans now regarded Napoleon; and it boded no good for him as a Frenchman in one of their prisons.

Next morning he was taken to an office and formally charged with the wilful murder of his wife and
Hen Baron
Ulrich von Haugwitz. Afterwards he was searched. He had already surrendered his sword; now a small dagger he always carried, his money belt and the jewels he was wearing were taken from him. Back in his cell, he congratulated himself on having had the forethought the previous night to conceal between his stockings and the soles of his feet six gold pieces; but, in the worst event, they were nowhere near the sum needed to bribe anyone to help him to escape.

The twelve days that followed seemed interminable to him. The food was edible, but of poor quality. The malicious warder evidently put a little salt into the water he brought, which rendered it impossible to drink, so Roger was reduced to falling back on the filthy acorn coffee; which caused him in turn to curse the Emperor and his Continental System. He asked for books and news sheets and was brought a few, but found the German script so difficult to read that he soon gave up the attempt. In vain he tried to persuade himself that Napoleon could not fail to bring about his release. But Paris was a long way off and the Emperor might have suddenly set off on one of his long journeys to Spain, Italy or Austria. Again, some accident might befall the courier who had been sent to Paris, or von Haugwitz be so set on vengeance as to risk his own future by refusing the Emperor's request for the warrant to be withdrawn.

His fears proved only too well founded. On June 13th, a young man named Menou, who was on the staff of the French Embassy, came to see him. Having expressed the Ambassador's regrets, he reported that no message regarding Roger had been received from the Emperor, although ample time had now elapsed for one to do so; and that Roger's trial had been fixed for two days hence.

To outward appearances, Roger took this bad news calmly, but, although he had been endeavouring to prepare himself for such a blow, his heart lurched and seemed to sink to his boots. Having thanked the young man, he asked that a good lawyer should be provided to defend him; to which Menou replied that one had already been instructed and would come to see him on the following day. There being no more to be said, he then bowed himself away.

Next morning the lawyer arrived. He proved to be a tired-faced, elderly man, named Johan Peffer. The fact that he was a German filled Roger with fury and further
dismay. As a distinguished French officer he felt that he was entitled to some consideration. He had expected de Brinevillers to enquire after his well-being while in prison, perhaps send him a gift of books and wine; and, at the very least, come in person to break the bad news of the Emperor's failure to respond. But the Ambassador had done none of thse things. And now, by failing to send a French advocate to undertake the defence, he had shown a callous indifference to Roger's fate that was hard to credit.

But time was short, for the trial was to take place the next day, so there was no longer time left to secure another lawyer. All Roger could do was to repeat to the crop-headed Prussian what he had said about the tragedy at Schloss Langenstein when he had declared his innocence at the French Embassy. Herr Peffer made copious notes, asked a few pointless questions, gloomily advised pleading ‘guilty'—which Roger flatly refused to do—then glumly took his departure.

At the trial the next day, no senior representative of the French Embassy was present, only young
Monsieur
Menou. But the trial having been postponed for a fortnight, in order that a courier could be sent to Paris, had cut two ways. It had given ample time for the prosecution to bring a number of witnesses from the Rhineland; so there were several other faces that Roger recognised—among them the Baron's steward, Big Karl, and the coachman whom Roger had forced into driving himself and Georgina to Coblenz.

The evidence by the servants that Roger had been the lover of their mistress and, despite their attempts to prevent him, carried her off, was incontestible. And it would have been useless for him to defend his action by stating that he had learned of a plot to murder them both, which was being hatched by his own wife and the Baron, since he had not a tittle of evidence to support it.