Dennis Wheatley - The Sultan's Daughter

'Assuredly not. But, in the event of your impression proving favourable and certain movements being set on foot, you would, no doubt, wish to keep in touch with him. It might be ill-advised to do so openly with any frequency. If you felt that, and were also averse to putting anything on paper . .

'Mon cher Colonel , I take your thought. And I am sure that I can count on your discretion as a verbal courier between us. After all, although you and I differed in our political opinions we worked together for the overthrow of Robespierre, did we not? In this case it seems unlikely that even our political opinions would differ.'

'Monsieur le Ministre, I am delighted that you should think that, but not at all surprised. France is in a wretched state and has been so for far too long. All sensible men now seem to agree that what the country needs is a strong man, capable of bringing order out of chaos. General Bonaparte is such a man, and one can think of no other.'

Having given a nod of agreement, Fouche swiftly hedged. 'You will, of course, appreciate that in my position I could not take a personal part in any movement. Such action as is taken

would be entirely his affair. I should remain merely an observer.'

'Naturally,' Roger agreed gravely. 'And, after all, we are talking of something that may never take place. Let us leave it that you are to meet the General. Should you then feel about him as do others who know him well, and should he contemplate anything, you might, perhaps, be willing to view the project with benevolent neutrality? '

' Benevolent neutrality. That is an apt phrase; most apt 1 see that we understand one another very well.' Coming slowly to his feet, Fouche added, 'And now, mon cher Colonel , it remains only for me to thank you for having called upon me.'

Roger rose and took the moist, bony hand offered him. ' Monsieur le Ministre, it has been a great pleasure to me to renew our acquaintance in such circumstances. In future you may rely upon me to have your interests at heart.'

' You are most kind. Life could be so much simpler if one had only to deal with friends. For my part, should you have any little personal troubles at any time please remember that the Ministry of Police can usually find ways to smooth them out, and that it is at your service.'

Five minutes later Roger was out in the street. His relief at emerging from the Ministry was submerged in elation. He could hardly believe that he was not dreaming. Fouche might still have suspicions about him, but, if so, they could be only lingering ones which he was prepared to ignore unless given fresh cause to believe that Colonel Breuc was betraying France. In his tussle with Talleyrand Roger had been worsted and, to convince him of his bona fides, had been compelled to spend seventeen arduous months in the Near East and Mediterranean. But in this far more dangerous battle of wits with Fouche it was he who had come off best, for not only had he retained his freedom but, to his amazement, had also placed himself in a situation that could prove enormously to his advantage.

When he arrived at Talleyrand's reception he found, receiving with him, a woman of quite exceptional beauty. She was past her first youth but had a lovely figure, a marvellous complexion, big blue eyes, masses of golden hair and a slightly retrousse nose, not unlike that of Talleyrand. Roger bowed over her hand, gave Talleyrand a smiling nod to indicate that he had successfully survived his interview with Fouche, then moved away into the crowd.

At the buffet, he found himself next to an old acquaintance: a handsome gentleman known as le beau Montrond \ He was a wit, a dandy, a gambler, a formidable duellist and a great personal friend of Talleyrand's. He had attached himself to the statesman and rendered him many useful services. It was said of him that on one occasion Talleyrand had remarked to a third party in de Montrond's presence, 'You know, I like de Montrond because he is not overburdened with scruples.' Upon which de Montrond put in, 'And I like de Talleyrand because he has no scruples at all.'

To de Montrond Roger said, 'Tell me, who is that beautiful woman who is acting as hostess for our host? '

De Montrond looked at him in surprise. 'Do you not know? But, of course, you have been long abroad. She is a Madame Grand and is known as ''The Indian" because, although the daughter of a Frenchman, she was born in Pondicherry. From her teens she has been a most notorious whore; but no one can deny her beauty and our dear Charles-Maurice has made her, for ail practical purposes, his wife.'

Roger needed to ask no more for, although he had never met Catherine Grand when he was in Calcutta, her name had still been a legend in Society there. At the age of fifteen she had married an official of the India Company named Grand. Her dazzling beauty had soon attracted the interest of Sir Philip Francis, a member of the Supreme Council of Bengal: the man who, with vitriolic venom, had, as a friend of Charles James Fox and in the Whig interests, consistently thwarted the work of India's greatest Governor, Warren Hastings. One night, Grand's Indian servants had found a ladder made of sections of bamboo swinging from Mrs. Grand's window. Believing that burglars had used it to gain entry the servants had roused the house. Sir Philip had then been found in the bed of its luscious sixteen-year-old mistress.

Mr. Grand had promptly returned the young lady to her parents and sued Sir Philip for heavy damages. Although the case had gone against him, Sir Philip had performed the extraordinary feat of persuading his wife that his interest in his enchanting little mistress was no more than paternal; so she had lived for a year in their house. Then, having tired of her elderly lover, she had run away with a younger one to Paris.

From that point, de Montrond gave Roger her biography up-to-date. In the years preceding the Revolution she had passed through the hands of a long succession of aristocrats. During the Terror she had taken refuge in England. On her return to Paris the police had believed that she had been sent over by the English as a spy. In the hope of clearing herself she had requested an interview with the Foreign Minister. Talleyrand had consented to see her. They had talked through the afternoon and evening and, presumably, for some part of the night. In fact, she had never again left the Foreign Ministry until she moved with Talleyrand to the Rue Taitbout. Unblushingly he had installed her overnight in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs as his mistress, and from then on she had acted as his official hostess.

'But,' Roger protested, 'in Calcutta people said of her that she was the most stupid woman alive; that her brain is no bigger than a pea and that her whole conversation is sprinkled with absurdities. If that is so, how can a man of Talleyrand's brilliant intellect possibly have put up with her for so long? '

De Montrond laughed. 'You are right. She is the veriest fool, but when questioned about it he replies lightly that " she has the wit of a rose ". Quite seriously, though, he once said to me, " My dear fellow, you need to have been the lover of so intelligent a woman as Madame de Stael to appreciate the joy of having in your bed anyone so silly as Catherine ".'

The sally made Roger laugh, but the thought of Talleyrand's having been bewitched by a beautiful face and body reminded him of how he had himself been bewitched in Cairo by Zanthe. It was now just a year since the October rebellion there, and he had then known nothing of her mental qualities; yet he had risked his whole future with Bonaparte to break into the Viceroy's palace and abduct her.

He still thought of her now and then, sometimes with longing, sometimes with guilt. He considered it probable that, in spite of the blockade, Ouvrard, or some other Parisian banker who had dealings with Sarodopulous, would be able to get a letter from him through to Egypt for her. Yet, anxious as he was to let her know that he had not wilfully deserted her, he could hardly, in the same letter, tell her that he regarded himself as no longer engaged to her.