Dennis Wheatley - The Sultan's Daughter

Accompanied by Berthier and Bourrienne he entered the Chamber of Apollo and asked permission to address the Assembly. It was granted but, when he started to speak, it was obvious to everyone that he had lost his nerve.

This was the second important occasion in his career when he had done so. The first had been in Italy, before the battle of Castiglione. On the previous day the castle and village had been in the hands of the French. After only a weak defence, General Valette had allowed the Austrians to push him out of them. As the castle dominated the situation and Bonaparte's Army was already partially surrounded he had been absolutely furious and, on the spot, reduced Valette to the ranks. But that did not improve the situation.

At a morning Council of War Augereau and the other Generals urged that the only possible course was to retake the castle by assault and cut their way out. Bonaparte, faced with this unexpected hitch in his carefully laid plans, temporarily lost his resolution. Fearful of having his unbroken chain of victories brought to an end by a shattering defeat, he refused to give any orders at all. Exclaiming 'I wash my hands of it! I am going away! ', to the utter amazement of the others he walked out of the tent. Augereau had shouted after him, 'Who, then, is to take command? ' 'You,' Bonaparte shouted back. Augereau had then led his Division in a furious charge up the hill and driven the Austrians out of the castle. Only after it had been taken did Bonaparte actively resume his Command. It was on account of this that, later in his career, whenever anyone complained to him of Augereau's outrageous behaviour, he always excused him by saying, 'Ah, but remember what he did for us at Castiglione.'

Now, again, Bonaparte went all to pieces. He spoke hesitantly, in confused, broken sentences, muttering vaguely that he did not intend to play the part of a Cromwell; that the Jacobins had made a plot; that the Constitution had often been violated before. Horrified at the lack of firmness he was suddenly displaying, when he stammered to a stop not knowing what to say next, Berthier and Bourrienne took him by the arms and hurried him out of the Chamber.

Whitefaced, de Montrond came hurrying over to Talleyrand to tell him what had happened. Clearly disaster was imminent. Talleyrand turned to Roger.

'Go to him, Breuc. He has faith in you. Tell him from me that he must now throw aside all legal scruples. He must use his troops or he is lost.'

Roger set off at a run across the park. By the time he reached the Palace, Bonaparte, his mind still hopelessly confused, had apparently had the idea that he might be better received by the Five Hundred. With four Grenadiers as an escort, he entered the Orangerie. His appearance was met with howls of rage. The Deputies began to fight among themselves, while the greater part of them yelled, ' Down with the Dictator! Down with Cromwell! ' A huge Deputy, named Destrem, hurled himself on Bonaparte and struck him several times. His Grenadiers dragged him, bruised and bleeding, from the Chamber. As they did so the terrible cry went up, ' Hors la toil Outlaw him! Outlaw him! Death to the traitor! '

As Roger entered the hall he heard those cries which threatened an end not only to the attempt to give France a new Government, but to Bonaparte's life. At the top of the long staircase he saw the General stumbling along between the Grenadiers as they helped him back to the room in which Sieyes and the others waited.

At the foot of the stairs Roger halted. Never in his life had he been faced with alternatives which could have such momentous results as at that moment. By prompt action, the situation might still be saved. But if he refrained from delivering Talleyrand's message Bonaparte was finished. Mr. Pitt believed Bonaparte to be the most dangerous potential leader of Britain's enemies, and close on two years before he had sent Roger to France with definite instructions to do everything he could to wreck the career of the young General. Those were Roger's orders. Chance had put it into his power to carry them out, finally and completely. Dare he ignore them?

Now was the vital moment of decision.

The Revolution is Over

As Roger stood there at the foot of the stairs he could feel the pulse throbbing in his temple. There was no time to lose; not a moment. Shouts and screams were still coming from the Orangerie. In there the gangling-limbed Lucien, short-sighted, bespectacled, thin-voiced, was displaying magnificent calmness and courage. A motion was brought that his brother should be outlawed, but he refused to put it to the Assembly. Then, seeing that his hand was about to be forced, he gained some minutes by resigning the Presidency to Chazel. Pandemonium again broke out. Fifty members all wanted to put motions and they fought like tigers to get up on the rostrum, each one who succeeded being dragged off again before he could make himself heard.

Roger's brain was whirling madly. Few men now knew Bonaparte better than he did. The Corsican was by nature a brigand, a thief on the grand scale, an athiest, a born liar, unscrupulous, ruthless and boundlessly ambitious. He was the absolute antithesis of the honour, integrity and high moral standards for which Britain's Prime Minister stood. It could not be wondered at that Mr. Pitt feared to see such a man given power, and had ordered Roger to do all he could to check his advancement.

Instead Roger had performed many useful services for Bonaparte and, for the past month, had done his utmost to aid him in a conspiracy which might, sooner or later, lead to his wielding supreme power. Chance had given Roger the opportunity to bring in Fouche, but that was incidental. Fouche took his own decisions and, his views being as they were, Talleyrand would later have been certain to secure his co-operation. In any case, Roger had been only swimming with the tide. Had he endeavoured to thwart the conspiracy, Fouche would soon have learned of his activities through one of Rial's thousand spies and would have pounced. So Roger would have found himself in prison or, worse, been in his grave. But now, simply by refraining from going upstairs, he could undo all that Talleyrand had striven for with such ardour, patience and skill.

There lay the rub. If he betrayed Bonaparte he would also be betraying Talleyrand, and he had unshakable faith in Talleyrand. He knew that Mr. Pitt disliked and despised Talleyrand even more than he did Bonaparte. But in that Roger had always felt that the shy, cold, passionless Prime Minister erred greatly in confusing morals with interests. Both Bonaparte and Talleyrand stood condemned on their personal records: the one for trickery and theft, the other for corruption and licentiousness. But Bonaparte had a genius for bringing order out of disorder; he had started as a revolutionary, but he had matured into a man of sound Liberal views who at least showed respect for religion and wished to see real liberty and justice restored to his countrymen; while Talleyrand was the man of great vision. All his life he had maintained that only when Britain and France reached an understanding could permanent peace and prosperjty come to Europe. He was the man of Peace. With Bonaparte in power, his influence would be enormous. And everywhere that Bonaparte now went, the people in the streets called to him, 'Peace! Give us Peace.' If he won this desperate gamble, how could he ignore both Talleyrand and the Will of the People?

Sweat had broken out on Roger's forehead. He was now facing ' The Great Risk' that he had always dreaded might some day be forced upon him. If he once again went against Mr. Pitt's judgment, Bonaparte, as Commander of all France's Armies, might decide to carve out for himself in Europe the Empire that he had failed to carve out in the East. If that happened, it would mean the shedding of tears by a million women and the shedding of blood by a million men. The burden of such a decision was almost too great for any one man's shoulders. But Roger took it. He put one foot on the lowest stair. Then he began to run.