Dennis Wheatley - The Rising Storm

On arriving at the Palace they went first to Manuel Godoy's apart­ments. The young courtier received them with the usual ceremonious compliments, then led them through several lofty, vaulted corridors to the presence chamber. It was a square room, painted white and gold and hung with tapestries depicting the life of John the Baptist; but it was very sparsely furnished. There were ho settees, chests or side tables round its walls; only two high, stiff-backed elbow chairs with foot-rests in front of them stood in the centre, and grouped in a semi-circle before them half a dozen low, upholstered stools. King Carlos and Queen Maria Luisa occupied the chairs, behind them respectively stood two gentle­men and two ladies, and two of the royal children were seated on the stools nearest to their parents.

After the ritual of reception had been observed the Sidonia y Ulloas, being of sufficient rank to enjoy the honour of the tabouret, as the stools were called, sat down on two of them; but Roger was not invited to sit, and during the entire audience he remained standing—a distinction he shared with Manuel Godoy, who, father and grandfather of Kings and Queens as he was later to become, was as yet also considered as too lowly a person to be permitted to ease his feet in the presence of the Sovereigns.

But Roger did hot regard this marked discrimination in accordance with birth as strange. He had been privileged to sit on several informal occasions when talking to crowned heads; but the Spanish Court was notoriously rigorous in the maintenance of strict etiquette, and even in England such distinctions were still carefully observed. He remembered once when at Holwood House he had heard Mr. Pitt remark to the com­pany that at official interviews King George III always received him standing, because the Monarch was too polite to sit down while keeping his Prime Minister on his feet, yet felt that he could not possibly allow a Minister who was a Commoner to be seated; and that on one occasion, although at the time the King was seriously ill, the two of them had discussed business for over four hours while remaining the whole time standing one on either side of a table.

The fat-faced, hook-nosed King Carlos opened the conversation in French—as Roger knew only a few words of Spanish—by enquiring after the health of his cousins Their Majesties of France. Roger replied that when he had last seen them, two months previously, they were both much worried but otherwise in as good health as could be expected. He added that now King Louis was virtually a prisoner in the Tuileries he greatly missed his hunting, but got such exercise as he could by wielding a hammer at his locksmith's anvil, and also consoled himself to some extent by spending a good part of his time at his other hobby of making clocks.

Queen Maria Luisa then took charge of the proceedings and during the next hour and a half plied Roger with scores of questions.

Among other things she asked him if he had met the Spanish Ambassador; so, while not unduly depreciating the qualities of the Conde Fernanunez, he had an excellent opportunity for saying how highly the Conde d'Aranda and his family were still esteemed at the Court of France. But most of her questions concerned the new powers assumed by the National Assembly and the scenes of violence that had taken place.

The Spanish Sovereigns were incredibly shocked by his description of the attack on Versailles and the events that had followed it; as, although they had had numerous written accounts of these matters from various sources, they had never before heard them described by an eye-witness, and had little idea of the indignities to which the Royal Family of France had been subjected.

When the Queen could think of no more questions to ask she turned her beady little eyes on the King and said something to him in Spanish.

Up to then Don Diego, evidently occupied with his own sombre thoughts, had paid only the attention demanded by politeness to what was going on; but at the Queen's words Roger saw him give a violent start.

After a moment the dull-witted King nodded his head and, still speaking in French, replied: "Yes, we must certainly send a special envoy, if only to show our sympathy. He could, at the same time, press them on that other matter."

Suddenly Don Diego jumped to his feet, threw himself on one knee before his Sovereigns, and began to gabble away in Spanish at nineteen to the dozen.

Roger glanced at Isabella; her face was flushed and her eyes were shining with excitement. He looked at Godoy; the favourite's well­ modelled mouth was curved in a pleased smile. He knew then that the plot he had hatched with Georgina that afternoon was working.

In Don Diego's pleading he caught the word "Neapoli", then the name "d'Aranda" several times repeated, so he was able to guess the gist of what the Count was saying to be: "As I have lived in Naples since the beginning of Your Majesty's reign, I have so far had little opportunity to be of service to you. I beg you now to allow me to show my devotion as your envoy to Paris, and as the son-in-law of the Conde d'Aranda utilize the prestige his name still carries there."

The Queen spoke to the King; the heavy Monarch nodded; Don Diego jumped up with a delighted cry and kissed the hands of first one then the other; Isabella joined her thanks to those of her husband by throwing herself at the feet of the Queen, and received a friendly pat on the head. The two Infantes, Godoy, and the ladies- and gentlemen-in-waiting all exclaimed with pleasure and offered Don Diego their congratulations.

The little scene was a revelation to Roger that the Spaniards did, on occasion, show spontaneous emotion; but it was soon over, for, as though ashamed of having done so, they swiftly resumed their formal dignity, and in that atmosphere the audience was terminated. Godoy alone continued to give free rein to his exuberance, and when he had escorted the visitors from the presence chamber he at once insisted that before going home they should take a glass of wine with him to the success of the mission.

In his apartment a fine old Malaga was produced, and when the toast had been drunk the handsome favourite courteously asked Roger if he would permit him to speak in Spanish with Don Diego for a few moments. Roger only too willingly consented, as it gave him an oppor­tunity to offer his arm to Isabella, and lead her to the other side of the room on the pretext of admiring a fine collection of bull-fighting swords that hung on the wall there.

As they stood looking at the beautifully chased blades of blue Toledo steel, she whispered with a little catch in her voice: "What marvellous fortune, my love! For him to request this mission himself was more than I could possibly have hoped for. But why he should wish to go to Paris I cannot think."

"I can," Roger whispered back. "We owe this to Lady Etheredge. She intended to stay on here for some time, and when at length she could bring herself to break with him, to hurry back to England. But out of fondness for me she agreed instead to tell him that she means to spend some time in Paris on her way home, and had decided to set out next week. It was her telling him so after dinner that caused his desperate agitation, and what followed was the result of it."

Isabella squeezed his arm. "Oh! Rojé, what a brilliant stroke of yours; and how grateful I am to her."

"But in this we have courted a great risk," he warned her gravely. "With time before him Don Diego may well have been putting off so terrible a decision as to make a definite attempt upon your life. Now his coming departure will force him to face the issue. Either he must aban­don his awful thought and go to Paris still tied to you, or seek to gain his freedom by using the poison before he sets out. You could still slip away tonight and Icould meet you to escort you to some place of hiding; but otherwise I beg you not to relax your watchfulness for a single moment."