The Last Cavalier: Being the Adventures of Count Sainte-Hermine in the Age of Napoleon. Alexandre DumasЧитать онлайн книгу.
of the bands will call itself Cadoudal’s band, and it will pretend to have Cadoudal himself at its head.”
“According to what Your Excellency is saying.…”
“I shall let you use those words for now,” said Fouché with a laugh, “especially since you’ve not much time left appropriately to use them.”
Dubois bowed, and, encouraged by Fouché, he went on: “According to what Your Excellency is saying, you need a man who can shoot if necessary.”
“That, and whatever else is necessary.”
Monsieur Dubois thought for a moment and shook his head. “I have no one like that among my men,” he said.
But, when Fouché gestured impatiently, Dubois recalled: “Wait a moment. Yesterday a man came to my office, a certain Chevalier de Mahalin, a fellow who was a member of the Companions of Jehu and who asks for nothing better, he says, than well-paid dangers. He is a gambler in every sense of the word, ready to risk his life as well as his money on a throw of the dice. He’s our man.”
“Do you have his address?”
“No. But he is coming back to my office today sometime between one and two o’clock. It is now one o’clock, so he must be there already or else he will be soon.”
“Go, then, and bring him back here.”
When Monsieur Dubois had left, Fouché pulled a file from its box and carried it over to his desk. It was the Pichegru file, and he studied it with the greatest attention until Monsieur Dubois returned with the man he’d talked about.
It was the same man who had visited Hector de Sainte-Hermine regarding the promises he’d made to his brother and who then had led him to Laurent’s band. Now disbanded, with nothing more to be done in Cadoudal’s cause, the good man was looking elsewhere for work.
He was probably between twenty-five and thirty years old, well built, and quite handsome. He had a pleasant smile, and you could have said he was likeable in every respect, except for a troubled and disturbing look in his eyes that often caused people he dealt with worry and concern.
Fouché examined him with a penetrating look that enabled him to take any man’s moral measure. In this man he could sense the love of money, great courage, though he seemed more ready to defend himself than to attack another, and the absolute will to succeed in any undertaking. That was exactly what Fouché was looking for.
“Monsieur,” said Fouché, “I have been assured that you would like to enter government service. Is that correct?”
“That is my greatest wish.”
“In what role?”
“Wherever there are blows to receive and money to be earned.”
“Do you know Brittany and the Vendée?”
“Perfectly well. Three times I have been sent to meet General Cadoudal.”
“Have you been in contact with those serving just beneath him?”
“With some of them, and particularly with one of Cadoudal’s lieutenants—he’s called George II because he looks like the general.”
“Damn!” said Fouché. “That might be useful. Do you believe you could raise three bands of about twenty men each?”
“It is always possible, in a region still warm from civil war, to raise three bands of twenty men. If the purpose is honorable, honest men will easily make up your sixty, and for them all you will need are grand words and elegant speech. If the purpose is less principled and demands secrecy, you will still be able to enlist mercenaries, but to buy their questionable consciences will cost you more.”
Fouché gave Dubois a look that seemed to be saying, “My good man, you have indeed come up with a real find.” Then, to the chevalier, he said, “Monsieur, within ten days we need three bands of incendiaries, two in the Morbihan and one in the Vendée, all three of them acting in Cadoudal’s name. In one of the bands a masked man must assume the name of the Breton general and do all that he can to convince the populace that he really is Cadoudal.”
“Easy, but expensive, as I have said.”
“Are fifty thousand francs enough?”
“Yes. Unquestionably.”
“So then, we are agreed on that point. Once your three bands have been organized, will you be able to go to England?”
“There is nothing simpler, given that my background is English and that I speak the language as well as I do my mother tongue.”
“Do you know Pichegru?”
“By name.”
“Do you have a means of getting introduced to him?”
“Yes.”
“And if I asked you how?”
“I would not tell you. After all, I need to keep some secrets; otherwise, I would lose all my value.”
“So you would. And so you will go to England, where you will check out Pichegru and try to discover under what circumstances he would be willing to come back to Paris. Were he to wish to return to Paris but finds money to be lacking, you will propose funds in the name of Fauche-Borel. Don’t forget that name.”
“The Swiss bookseller who has already made proposals to him in the name of the Prince de Condé; yes, I know him. And were he to wish to return to Paris and needs money, to whom should I turn?”
“To Monsieur Fouché, at his domain in Pontcarré. Not to the Minister of Police, the difference is important.”
“And then?”
“And then you will return to Paris for new orders. Monsieur Dubois, please count out fifty thousand francs for the chevalier. By the way, chevalier.…”
Mahalin turned around.
“If you should happen to meet Coster Saint-Victor, encourage him to come back to Paris.”
“Does he not risk arrest?”
“No, all will be forgiven, that I can affirm.”
“What shall I say to convince him?”
“That all the women in Paris miss him, and especially Mademoiselle Aurélie de Saint-Amour. You may add that after being a rival to Barras for her charms, it would be a shame for him not also to be a rival to the First Consul. That should be enough to help him make up his mind to return, unless he has even more extraordinary liaisons in London.”
Once the door had shut on Dubois and Mahalin, Fouché quickly had an orderly carry the following letter to Doctor Cabanis:
My dear doctor,
The First Consul, whom I have just seen in Madame Bonaparte’s apartments, could not have more graciously received Madame de Sourdis’s request concerning her daughter’s marriage, and he is pleased to see such a marriage take place.
Our dear sister can therefore plan her visit to Madame Bonaparte, and the sooner the better.
Please believe me your sincere friend,
J. Fouché
The next day, Madame la Comtesse de Sourdis presented herself in the Tuileries. She found Josephine radiant and Hortense in tears, for Hortense’s marriage with Louis Bonaparte was almost certain.
Josephine had realized the day before that, whatever mysterious reason lay behind it, her husband was in good humor, so she had asked to have him come see her on his return from the Conseil d’Etat.
But, when he got back, the First Consul had found Cambacérès waiting for him—he’d come to explain two or three articles of the code that Bonaparte had found to be not sufficiently clear—and the two of them had worked until quite late. Then Junot had shown up to announce his marriage with