Dennis Wheatley - The wanton princess

A moment later he was given no option. De la Touche was leaning out of the window, an evil grin on his shifty coun­tenance and his dagger in his hand. He made a slash at Roger's fingers. Instinctively Roger let go of the iron bracket.

As he plunged downward terror seized him. In his vivid imagination he could already feel the iron spikes piercing his flesh and smashing his bones. Ten seconds later he was brought up with a violent jerk. He had missed being impaled by a fraction of an inch. The spikes had penetrated under his flying coat tails, ripped through the back of his coat and left him suspended by its thick collar.

For a moment he hung there. Then he realized that his feet, beneath bent legs, were resting on the steps up to the club. From inside it there came the sound of excited shouts. Although every minute of the desperate encounter he had just survived had seemed like five to him, he knew that it could have occupied only a very short time; so the shouts and crash of glass in the room above had not drawn attention to the fact that there was trouble there until it was almost over. But by now the other occupants of the club must be up there seeking an explanation.

To accuse his attackers of an attempt to kidnap and later murder him could serve no useful purpose, and to lend himself to an enquiry into the affair by their compatriots might even prove dangerous. So, bracing his legs, he wrenched at his coat until he had torn himself free of the railings, then staggered off round the square until he came upon an unoccupied sedan chair that carried him back to Amesbury House.

Next morning, knowing himself to be now a marked man, and that as long as he remained in London the conspirators would do their utmost to trace him. then stick at nothing to prevent his return to France, he said good-bye to Droopy and set out for Walmer.

That evening he informed Mr. Pitt of all that had taken place and, as he had hoped, his old master agreed to place at his disposal one of his cutters manned by Sea Fenciblcs, as the quickest way for him to get back to France. He sailed in it that night and shortly before dawn on the 12th the cutler put him ashore in a quiet cove some miles south of Boulogne. Soon after he had landed he had a narrow escape from being caught by a beach patrol, but he succeeded in evading it and on the morning of the 14th was back in Paris.

After sleeping through most of the day at La Belle Etoile, he rode out that night to St. Cloud and made his report to Talleyrand. His old friend listened with much concern to his account of the danger to which by an ill chance he had been exposed, then congratulated him warmly on having pene­trated the conspiracy.

Over a tete-a-tete supper, worthy of them both, they dis­cussed the matter at length and agreed that, as Roger had not secured sufficient details of the plot to nip it in the bud, the probability was that it would be proceeded with. Although Fouche was still out of office Talleyrand was of the opinion that he, and the agents he continued to employ, were much more likely to get to the bottom of the affair than were Savary's regular police. He said he would seek the co­operation of that subtle master-mind the following day and ask its unprepossessing owner to endeavour to discover the where­abouts of Cadoudal, the Abbe David and M. Querelle and to have a close watch kept on General Lajolais.

They then speculated on which of the Bourbon Princes had been selected to make a dash for Paris, take over from General Moreau and act as Regent until the Comte de Provence could reach the capital and be proclaimed as Louis XVIII.

The legitimate choice was his younger brother, the Comte d'Artois; and it was known that he had spent long periods on vthe Isle of Yeu, off the Brittany coast, under the protection of the English, so that he could be swiftly landed in France in the event of a successful counter-revolution. But Charles d'Arlois was a lazy, pleasure-loving man and Talleyrand who had known him well in pre-Revolution days, thought it un­likely that lie would risk putting his head into a noose if there was the least possibility of it closing on him.

The Prince dc Conde seemed a better bet, as it was he who had commanded the army of Royalist exiles on the Rhine and done all he could to aid the Austrians in their war against Revolutionary France. But in recent years his army had withered away, many of the exiled nobles having made their peace with Napoleon, and others having left it to settle as civilians in the German cities. So the Prince had become dispirited and was no longer looked on by the Monarchists as a leader of promise. It might, however, be the Prince's son, the Due d'Enghien. He was a handsome and vigorous young man in his early thirties with a dashing personality and likely to have a strong appeal to the French people.

Another possibility was d'Artois' son, the twenty-six-year-old Due de Berri; but he was living in Italy, so it would not be possible for him to enter France overnight, and for a coup d'etat to prove successful swift action was essential.

Lastly there was Louis Philippe, Due d'Orleans, who was living at Twickenham near London. But his side of the Bourbon family had ever been a thorn in the side of the senior branch. His father had even gone to the length of siding with the Revolutionaries, laying down his title and calling himself, 'Philippe Egalitd' then, as a member of the Convention, voting for the death of his cousin, Louis XVI. Roger had later taken considerable pleasure in being instru­mental in getting him sent to the guillotine. They decided that for the Monarchists to choose a prince with such antecedents was very unlikely.

The next day Roger reported back to Napoleon, who abruptly enquired the reason for Talleyrand's having re­quested the loan of him. Not feeling that he could refuse, Roger gave an account of his mission, but he did so with reluctance as he felt sure that Napoleon would instruct Savary to go into the affair, and feared that the heavy-handed Minister of Police might ruin the investigation of the infinitely more skilful Fouche.

When he had done Napoleon laughed, tweaked Roger's ear and said, 'What a man you are, Breuc. You are worth half a dozen of my other beaux sabreurs.' Then, with a sudden change of mood, he added, 'Moreau is a fine soldier but a fool politically; and as he hates me it is quite likely that he

will be idiot enough to allow himself to be drawn into this conspiracy. As for this Prince who is to play the part of Viceroy until the Comte de Provence can be brought from Mittau, if we catch him I'll make such an example of him as no other Bourbon will ever forget.'

During the month that followed Roger saw both Talley­rand and Fouchc several times and they kept him informed of the progress of the conspiracy which, as he had expected, was going forward. Cadoudal, it was learned, had again been landed at Biville on January 14th and was believed to be in Paris but could not be traced. On the 24th, by having the Abb6 David shadowed, Pichegru was found to have arrived in the capital, and on the evening of the 27th he was seen to meet Moreau, accompanied by General Lajolais, apparently by accident, in the Boulevard de la Madeleine; but after only a few minutes' conversation they went their respective ways. There followed four lengthy secret conferences for which they met in private houses; so it was now clear that the victor of Hohenlinden had been drawn into the conspiracy. Then, on the 15th February Savary jeopardized all prospect of allowing the affair to ripen until all the conspirators could be caught in the net by arresting Monsieur Querelle.

In an attempt to save himself Querelle gave away the addresses at which Cadoudal and Pichegru were in hiding. But, taking alarm at Querelle's arrest, both had swiftly vacated their lodgings. However, on the 29th Pichegru, given away by a treacherous friend, was seized while in bed in his house. Ten days later a series of domiciliary visits to suspects led to the finding of Cadoudal and, after a desperate resis­tance, he was carried off to prison. There followed the arrest of the Due de Polignac, the Marquis de Riviere, who had come over with Pichegru, Lajolais and a number of the lesser conspirators.