Dennis Wheatley - The Sultan's Daughter

Throughout these weeks Roger continued his duties as one of Bonaparte's aides-de-camp with as much patience as he could muster. For better or for worse, he had made his contribution to the present state of things; but as yet there was no point in his slipping off to London and confessing to Mr. Pitt that he had flagrantly disobeyed his orders. The fact that the Directory had been overthrown would have reached the Prime Minister within a few day of its happening. What he would want to know was what changes in French foreign policy, if any, were likely to result from it, and whether the new Constitution was likely to restore France to stability. Roger could make no assessment of that until it was known who was to wield almost dictorial powers by being appointed First Consul, and that still hung in the balance.

It was not until December 22nd that the notables assembled in the Luxembourg to vote on this momentous issue. Puffed up with vanity, Sieyes had all along visualized himself in the role of First Consul, and it was that which had caused him to agree that the other two should have no power of veto and be virtual nonentities.

Feeling quite sure of himself Sieyes opened the meeting with an address in which he dwelt on the evils of military Dictatorships and how dangerous it would be to appoint a soldier as First Consul. But Bonaparte had devised a clever trick to outwit him. Before the meeting the wily Corsican had told his supporters not to form a group, but to scatter themselves about the hall. Then, when he took Siey&s's hand, they were to give a loud cry of 'Bonaparte! '

As Sieyes brought his address to an end, Bonaparte stepped up to him with a smile and said, 'Let us have no difference of opinion, my friend. I vote for you. For whom do you vote? '

Sieyes, thinking that Bonaparte's vote put his own election beyond all question, replied, out of politeness, 'I vote for you.'

Bonaparte put out his hand, Sieyes took it. Instantly, from all parts of the hall, there were loud cries of 'Bonaparte! Bonaparte! ' The General's scattered supporters infected their neighbours and in another minute everyone was crying ' Vive Bonaparte!' Thus the wretched Seiyes was discomfited and the Corsican elected First Consul by acclamation.

Sieyes, almost speechless and half out of his mind with rage, refused the honourable post of Second Consul: so the Committees elected Cambaceres in this capacity and Lebrun as Third Consul. On the following day Bonaparte, whose word had now become, for all practical purposes, law, sent Reinhard as Ambassador to the Helvetic Republic and handed the portfolio of Foreign Minister back to Talleyrand.

Had Seiyes become First Consul, Bonaparte might well have decided, rather than remain as little more than a cipher in Paris, to take supreme command in the war against Austria. Sieyes would gladly have got rid of him at that price. Then the Jacobins would have striven again to impose their rule of Terror and the Royalists plotted again to bring about a Restoration. Once more the future would have been in the melting pot; but with Bonaparte as Head of State, firmly supported by Talleyrand and Fouchk, Roger could go back to England and report that the Revolution was over.

Now that the situation had clarified, his longing to get home became almost unbearable, and he saw no reason why he should not set out almost immediately. He had only to tell Bonaparte that the winter weather was again affecting his, mythically, weak chest to be given leave to go to his little chateau in the south of France. He could then set out in that direction, make a detour that would bring him to one of the Normandy ports and pay a smuggler well to run him across the Channel. As it was already the 23rd he could not get home for Christmas, but he should be able to do so well before the New Year.

That night he went to the Luxembourg, intending to ask his master for leave. There was a crowd of people there, but Bonaparte was busy in his cabinet with Bourrienne. After a while Josephine caught sight of Roger and beckoned him over. As he made a smiling bow to her, she said:

'Cher ami. Have you heard the wonderful news? The General and I are to move to the Tuileries. After living in our little house for so long, I'll feel like a pea in a box. But just think of the splendour of it, and the parties I'll be able to give there.'

Roger bowed again. '.Our Lady of Victories will shine there more brightly than ever did any Queen of France.'

Her big eyes sparkled and she tapped him with her fan. ' Cher, cher Colonel. You have always stood out among our soldiers as a courtier, and there will be the warmest welcome for you always, at any time, at the Palace. Our first great reception is to be on Christmas Day and, of course, we shall count on you.'

Christmas had long since been abolished by the revolutionaries. Not only did it hold no place in the calendar as a Revolutionary Festival, but for years past no one had dared to treat it as other than an ordinary working day. Much surprised, Roger raised an eyebrow a fraction.

Josephine laughed, flicked open her fan and behind it whispered to him, 'The choice is deliberate. The preparations for us to occupy the Palace are being hurried forward on that account. The General wishes to show the people that he is without prejudices and will permit religious persecution no longer.'

'Madame , that is excellent news,' Roger said quickly, 'and a truly wise measure. No ruler, however strong, can have too much support and, by granting religious toleration, our General will win the love of countless thousands of, yes . . . why should we not say it . . . his subjects—and yours.'

'No, no,' she chided him. 'You must not say such things. He insists that he is no more than an ordinary citizen charged with the duty of giving expression to the wishes of his fellows. But I had almost forgotten. There is special reason why you must not fail to be in attendance at the Tuileries on Christmas night. There is someone who by then will be in Paris and whom I shall invite: someone who is eagerly seeking news of you. I received the letter only yesterday from M. Ouvrard, who corresponds with a Greek banker named Sarodopulous. This lady is the daughter of one of my girlhood friends, who in the most romantic way has become the favourite wife of the Great Turk.'

For a moment, Roger was struck dumb. It could not possibly be anyone other than Zanthe to whom Josephine referred. Clearly Sarodopulous had made arrangements for her to travel to France, and she had arrived safely. Her only possible reason for undertaking the hazardous journey must be to rejoin and marry him. At the thought Roger felt panic rising in him. Only long practice at concealing his emotions enabled him to prevent Josephine from realizing the shock he had received.

She was going gaily on with an account of Aim£e Dubucq de Rivery's capture by Corsairs and how, by her entrancing beauty, she had captivated the Sultan. Roger listened with a fixed grin, hardly taking in a word she said. As soon as he decently could he turned the conversation, drew two other visitors into it, then bowed himself away and left the apartment.

Back at La Belle £toi!e he went up to his room, flung himself into an elbow chair and gave himself furiously to think. He could still return to the Luxembourg in the morning and ask Bonaparte for leave; but now it was most unlikely that the General would grant it until after Christmas Day. At his first reception as First Consul he would naturally wish to have all his paladins around him, 1le brave Breuc' among them.

It occurred to Roger that he could cut loose. If he did not put in an appearance next day no one would start a hue-an-cry after him. By taking horse that night he could reach the coast before anyone even started enquiring about him. But he was very loath to do that.