Read The Sultan's Daughter Online
Authors: Dennis Wheatley
As a first step, although Treilhard had served on the Directory for a year, an illegality disqualifying him from holding office was suddenly discovered, and Gohier, a staunch Republican who had formerly been a Minister of Justice, was elected in his place. Then, on the 30th of Prairial, they had put on the time-worn act of sending a message to the two Chambers, declaring the country âto be in danger'. Uproar had followed and that evening, to prevent bloodshed, Larevelliére and Merlin had agreed to resign. To succeed them the Councils had elected Roger Ducosâwho, like Sieyés, never committed himself to anything for which he might later be called to accountâand General Moulins, a morose and incompetent man who had been put up because he was too stupid to prove a menace to anyone.
If the object of all these intrigues, vitriolic articles and night-long hurling of insults in the Two Chambers had been to introduce a more moderate form of government, then it had failed dismally. The Jacobins, not so much through numbers as by threats of violence, now dominated the Five Hundred, and both the
Anciens
and the Director appeared incapable of controlling them.
They had resurrected the Jacobin Club. Over one hundred and fifty Deputies joined it and its sessions were held in the
Manege
, where Danton had thundered, Robespierre had advocated merciless decrees and the King's death had been voted. They had formed a Committee of Eleven which was laying claim to the powers of the old Committee of Public Safety. All this had the full approval of the two fanatically Republican DirectorsâGohier and Moulinsâand three Generals of the first rankâBernadotte, Jourdan and Auger-eauâbelonged to their party.
Their attitude was typified by the Law of Hostages, which
they had succeeded in pushing through in July. Hoche, by securing a degree of toleration for the Catholics in La Vendée, had at last succeeded in pacifying Brittany; but the Government had not kept its side of the bargain, so fresh disturbances had broken out there. To suppress them it had been decreed that, in the twelve rebellious Departments, the Republican authorities should choose hostages from among the relations of
émigrés
and
ci-devant
nobles. These innocent people were to be imprisoned forthwith. Then, for every Republican killed by the partisans, four hostages were to have their entire property seized and to be transported to Cayenne.
The Jacobins were hated by the vast majority of the people, but they were also feared; for their ruthless minority included among its members not only Directors, Generals and many Deputies, but a great number of officials in the administration and the police. It was reported that at the Café Godeau, near the Tuileries, the revolutionaries who assembled there had vowed that they would slaughter ten thousand victims to the shade of Robespierre, and that they drank nightly to a return to the days of '93 when they would again see the guillotine at work in the Place du Carrousel.
As Roger absorbed all this he no longer had cause to wonder how it was that a man with Joseph Fouché's record had succeeded in getting himself made Minister of Police.
It was past midnight when Talleyrand appeared. Despising cloth for evening wear as plebeian, he was dressed in wine-coloured satin and, indifferent to the jibes of the Jacobins, still wore his hair powdered. Raising his quizzing-glass on its broad black ribbon, he eyed Roger through it from the doorway, bowed and said with a smile:
âMy poor friend, I am told you have been waiting here for hours. If only I had knownââ'
âBut you did not,' Roger said quickly. âAnd it is I who should apologise for bothering you at such an hour. I trust, though, that you will give me a few minutes, as the matter is urgent.'
âWhy, certainly. But what do I see?' The statesman's glance fell on the table. âCold Claret and a few biscuits. My
people have neglected you shamefully. This is no fit fare for that gallant soldier “
le brave Breuc
”.'
Roger flushed slightly. âI've done little to earn such an appellation and wonder that anyone should have told you of it.'
âOne hears things, you know; one hears things.' Talleyrand turned to the footman behind him. âHenri, have the centres of some
brioches
removed and the shells stuffed with foie-gras; and fetch a bottle of champagne from the ice locker.' Turning back to Roger, he added:
âChampagne is the only possible drink after midnight' Tell me, now; in what way can I be of service to you?'
âIt seems,' Roger replied, âthat you have heard something of the way in which I have risked my life several times during the past seventeen months. May I ask whether you are now fully convinced about what I told you when last we metâthat, since joining General Bonaparte's Staff, I have regarded myself as a Frenchman?'
âWhy, yes. That is, dear friend, as fully convinced as my unhappily low assessment of human nature ever allows me to be about anything. But at least I know you to be no fool. Having laid the foundations of such a promising career for yourself in France, I cannot think you would be so stupid as to risk throwing it away by aiding France's enemies.'
âI am relieved to hear it; for one person remains who, like yourself, knows that I am Admiral Brook's son. And I have reason to fear that he intends to ruin me.'
âWho is this tiresome individual?'
âJoseph Fouché.'
Talleyrand raised his eyebrows. âIndeed! That is most unfortunate. Fouché is the most dangerous blackguard unhung, and if you have made an enemy of him in the past your case is serious.'
âAlas, I have; and this evening I received a letter from him requiring me to report to him at his Ministry. Should he arrest me, I was hoping that I might count on your protection.'
Before replying, Talleyrand took out his snuff-box, tapped the lid, took a pinch and dusted the specks from his satin coat with a flick of his lace handkerchief. Then he said gravely, âI
would give it you willingly, had I the means; but I am at the moment no more than a private citizen.'
Roger nodded. âI knew that you were no longer Foreign Minister. A rumour reached us in Egypt that you had been deprived of your post owing to a difference of opinion with some Americans, and I was most distressed to hear it.'
âOh, that!' Talleyrand gave his low, rich laugh. âMy compliments on the delicacy of the way in which you put it. Our “difference of opinion” was that those boors refused to subscribe to accepted European custom and pay me a miserable hundred thousand francs before I would enter into negotiations with them about some of their ships we were holding. But I was not deprived of my post. I resigned, and that although no pressure was brought on me to do so.'
âYou surprise me.' Roger raised his eyebrows. âMay one ask what led you to give up such an interesting and er ⦠lucrative post?'
âYou may. I had made enough out of it to live respectably for some time to come and, although I should resent anyone else terming me a rat, you will know the old proverb about rats leaving the sinking ship. The Directory is doomed and I have an aversion to being drowned. Moreover, the
canaille
had become so vociferous about me that I felt it politic to retire into private life for a while. When the Legislature again gave freedom to the Press I became the target for every kind of abuse. They even had the impudence to write most scur-rilously about my private life and, still worse, to question my foreign policy. As you are aware, I have always maintained that the only hope for lasting peace and prosperity in Europe lies in a rapprochement between France and Britain. They dubbed me an
emigré
Anglophile and asserted that my aim was to wreck the Revolution. As though it could be wrecked further than it already had been by those foul-mouthed, bloodthirsty Jacobins.'
At that moment the footman arrived with the champagne and
brioches
. Standing up, Talleyrand limped over to the table and poured the wine himself. As he handed a glass to Roger he went on, âSo, by resigning when I did, I both diverted the attentions of the mud-slingers from myself and gracefully bowed my way out of this Government that is now
execrated by everybody. But, of course, I took steps to continue doing what little I could to prevent the Directory from further poisoning our foreign relations. I persuaded them to appoint my old friend, Reinhard, in my place. He is a most admirable man and accepts my guidance without question. He realises, too, that he is no more than a stop-gap and will take no umbrage at my replacing him as soon as we can get rid of those dolts now occupying the Luxembourg.'
âYou are convinced, then, that the Government will fall?' Roger asked, before taking a large bite out of one of the delicious
brioches
.
âAs certain as one can be of anything. But I have digressed too long. When do you propose to pay your call on Fouché?'
âTomorrow; or rather, this morning. It would certainly not improve my case to wait until he has me fetched. All I can do is put a bold face on matters, endeavour to convince him, as I have you, that I have served France well in these past two years and intend to continue to do so; and trust that, powerful though he has become, he will think twice before having me arrested as a secret agent. After all, it is only his word against mine that I was not born a Frenchman, and should he arbitrarily spirit me away I am sure you will be good enough to set on foot enquiries as to what has become of me.'
âOn that you may rely. Go to him early. Tell him you have an appointment with me here at midday. That may give him pause. Should you not be here by twelve o'clock I will go straight to Bonaparte. I had a long interview with him this morning and during it enquired after you. He holds you in high regard and, as you are one of his aides-de-camp, he is entitled to demand an explanation as to why you are being held. Even so, I shall be much relieved if you are able to keep our appointment. As Minister of Police, Fouché has almost unlimited powers and is answerable to no one other than the Directory. If he does detain you it may prove far from easy to get you out of his clutches.'
âIt is that I fear. And I am most grateful to you for what you propose to do. When last I saw him, he had just received an order of banishment signed by Barras. To find him back here in Paris and wielding such power came as a great shock
to me. How in the world has such a villain succeeded in making his way back into public life?'
Talleyrand smiled. âDear friend, you have answered yourself. Because he is a villain. Birds of a feather, you know. This past year or more, the Directory has had the greatest difficulty in surviving. It has succeeded only by the use of bribery, blackmail and treachery. It is by no means easy to find officials willing to employ such methods who are, at the same time, capable administrators. And no one could question Fouché's ability. When he bobbed up again, they decided to let bygones be bygones and reap the benefit of his special talent for villainy.'
âIt still amazes me that they should have put into his hands the immense powers enjoyed by a Minister of Police.'
âThey did not do so to begin with. If you wish, I could give you particulars of his rogue's progress.'
Roger replied that he would very much like to hear them; so his host took up his malacca cane and, with his graceful limp, left the room. Some minutes later he returned carrying a folder. As he sat down again and opened it he said, âWhile I was at the Foreign Ministry I naturally had my own intelligence service. When I was about to leave, it occurred to me that if I brought some of these dossiers with me they might later prove useful.'
Flicking over the contents of the folder, he went on, âThere are pages and pages about Fouché's activities during the Terror, but no doubt you are already informed thereon. Ah, here we are! “Banished from Paris by order of Director Barras. Settled in Montmorency Valley. Near destitute. Started pig-farming on a capital said to be less than one hundred louis.”' Talleyrand sniffed. âWhat a revolting occupation to choose. But I suppose there is money in it.'
âHe had a pig farm on the outskirts of Paris before he was banished,' Roger volunteered. âI gathered, though, that he was making very little out of it because someone else had put up the capital. But, I pray you, continue.'
â“Early in '97 returned to Paris, started a small company for delivering food to troops in north-west France. Got rid of partners and began to do well on his own. Helped to secure the acquittal of the financier Hinguerlot from charges preferred
against him before the Tribunal of Melun. This led to establishing valuable connections with the other Parisian bankers. Undertook the organisation of profitable smuggling operations on the Dutch frontier. Made overtures to the self-styled King Louis XVIII, then at Mitau. Offered information and assistance to bring about a Restoration.” '
âCan that really be true?' Roger asked. âI would not have thought even Fouché capable of such a volte-face. Besides, he is a regicide and must have been crazy to imagine that the King would take into his service one of his brother's murderers.'
Talleyrand shrugged and took a drink of wine. âStranger things have happened, and only Sieyés is more adept than Fouché at turning his coat. This, of course, occurred in the summer of '97, when there came the great reaction to the Right led by the
Clichiens
. To uninformed people, as Fouché then was, it must have looked quite likely that Pichegru and his friends would succeed in restoring the Monarchy. No doubt our wily friend thought that by a stitch in time he might at least earn a pardon. But you are right. The Royalists would have nothing to do with him.'
Again scanning the dossier, Talleyrand went on, â“His reaction to this rebuff was to throw himself heart and soul into the movement of the Left, which culminated in the coup of
Fructidor
by which General Augereau swept away the Royalist elements in the Legislature. It was Fouché's activities at this time that earned him the approbation of the Directory and led to his Order of Banishment being rescinded. In September, '98, he was sent as Ambassador to the Cisalpine Republic. While there, he saw the folly of seeking to dictate to the Italians rather than win them as willing allies and, in this, he had the support of General Joubert. The Directory did not approve this policy and he was recalled.” â