Dennis Wheatley - The Sultan's Daughter

'That is true. But the fact remains that you, an Englishman, now pose as a Frenchman born in Strasbourg, and that you have succeeded in getting yourself appointed as one of General Bonaparte's aides-de-camp. In such a position you must become privy to many State secrets.'

'Certainly, and why should I not? ' Roger asked boldly. 'My relatives in England long since cast me off, owing to my Liberal opinions. I am making a career for myself in France, and a fine one. To betray the country of my adoption for the sake of the country of my birth would be to cut off my nose to spite my face. Surely you see that? '

For a full minute Fouché continued to doodle, then he said, 'You once did me a kindness but, on balance, I have no cause to love you; and in the past you have given me ample proof that you are a very dangerous man. I can see no reason why I should allow you to continue to perpetrate upon General Bonaparte and others the fraud that you were born a Frenchman. Since I have personal knowledge of your origin, any form of trial would be redundant and, as Minister of Police, I am in a position to have you swiftly eliminated. To do so seems to me only a sensible precaution against the possibility that you are lying to me.'

Realizing that the crisis of the interview was at hand, Roger said firmly, '1 agree that you have the power to give orders that I should be carted off to some hideous fate, before my friends could even demand that I be formally accused and tried. But what of afterwards? Let us consider two possibilities.

'First, we will assume that I am at heart loyal to France. You would then have deprived your country of a useful servant. There would be only your word for it that I was a traitor. No one would believe you. It would be thought that you had abused your position to exact a private vengeance. Bonaparte, Talleyrand and a dozen other of my friends would never forgive you. And the Army, which now terms me '' le brave Breuc ", would execrate your name.

'Secondly, we will assume that I am a spy. You might employ false witnesses, but you could produce no convincing proof that I am Admiral Brook's son. Again you would be disbelieved, and attract to yourself the same enmity and opprobrium. But more. Were I an agent of Mr. Pitt, can you really believe that I should come here like a lamb to the slaughter? Certainly not. I should be hand in glove with the Royalist agents. I should have learned from them that, in the summer of '97, a certain Citizen Joseph Fouche offered his aid in an attempt to place Louis XVIII on the throne of France. I should-'

'There is not one word of truth in that,' Fouche broke in quickly.

'Of course not,' Roger agreed smoothly, 'nor is there in your fanciful idea that I am an English agent. Yet if I were, you may be certain that, before placing myself in your hands, I would have arranged with my friends that, if you dealt with me as a spy, they should at once put it about all over Paris that, when the Government of France ceased to give you employment, you had offered to betray the Revolution. To that one should add that, just as you might employ false witnesses against me, so the Royalist agents would produce letters, er . . . faked of course, that people might accept as proof, that you had been in communication with the Court at Mitau.'

It was Roger's only card, a bluff based on the information Talleyrand had given him. There might be no incriminating letters in existence, for Fouche was so cautious in all his dealings that he had probably communicated with Mitau only through a third party and had never put pen to paper. But such letters could be forged and it was a certainly that the Royalists in Mitau would willingly have co-operated in attempting to ruin an ex-terrorist of Fouche's standing.

As the cadaverous Minister continued to stare silently at his desk, Roger went on in a conciliatory tone, 'But all this is beside the point. No one could ever seriously accuse you of scheming to betray the Republic that you played so large a part in establishing, any more than anyone other than yourself could seriously accuse me of being one of Mr. Pitt's agents. And that is the crux of the matter. That I was born an Englishman, to you I readily admit; but that I am a spy, I deny. Therefore, should you use your power arbitrarily to terminate my career, you will be doing a deliberate disservice to your country for the purpose of satisfying your private malice.'

'No, no! * Fouche shook his head. 'I am not a malicious man. I have never willingly made an enemy in my life. My only enemies are those who are jealous of me.'

'Then why make one of General Bonaparte, as you certainly will if you make away with a man whose services he regards as valuable? '

Fouche sniffed, then repeated, 'General Bonaparte. I gather that you are on intimate terms with him? '

'That I can certainly claim to be, and something more than an ordinary military aide-de-camp. In the winter of '98, I went to England on a secret mission for him and brought him back accurate information about the defences on the south coast there. How can you reconcile that with your idea that I am here as a spy for England? '

'1 would like to have your opinion of Bonaparte.' 'It is that he is the most remarkable man alive. As a soldier, he is head and shoulders above any other General. But not only that. He is a great administrator. His head is stuffed with more general knowledge than those of any other ten men you could name, yet his mind is so lucid that he never confuses issues. He has immense courage and the ability to make decisions on the instant.'

'You confirm all that I have heard from other sources. Do you think that he intends to stage a coup d'etatl '

'If I knew, I certainly should not tell you. But I will offer you a piece of advice. Everyone knows that the Directory is on its last legs. Whatever may emerge from its downfall, you can be certain that Bonaparte is too strong a man to allow himself to be trampled underfoot and, if he does seek power, he will have many friends to aid him. Yet, at this time, when the future is still in doubt, he cannot have too many friends. You would be wise to become one of them.'

Fouche's fish-like eyes suddenly flickered over Roger's face. Looking away again, he said, 'Advice from a man like yourself is worthy of very serious consideration. In my view, though, it will be all or nothing. The Jacobins are again very powerful, and he is not a politician. If, before he is ready to strike, they accuse him in the Five Hundred of conspiring to become a Dictator, nothing can save him. He will be declared an Outlaw, then no one will dare raise a voice in his defence. On the other hand, if he does intend to bring about a coup d'etat and is successful, he'll brook 110 rivals in the new Government. He will seize supreme power for himself.'

'And, as a result,' Roger added, ' every plum on the tree will go to those who have aided him. In my position, devoted to him as I am, I stand to make my fortune. Can you any longer suppose that I should throw such a chance away because I happen to have been born in England? '

A bleak smile again twitched Fouche's thin lips as he replied, '1 have never taken you for a sentimentalist. But, er . . . with regard to your advice. When Bonaparte was last in Paris, I was busying myself with a commercial venture in northern France; so I have never met him. I should find it interesting to do so, in order that I can form my own opinion of the man.'

Roger's heart suddenly began to hammer in his chest. Each beat was as if it cried aloud, 'I've won! I've won! I've won! ' With a little bow, he said, '1 should be very happy to arrange a meeting.'

'That would be to add to my indebtedness to you,' Fouche's shifty glance again met Roger's for an instant. 'However, when suggesting it to him, please do not give the impression that I intend to commit myself to anything.'