Dennis Wheatley - The Rising Storm

"Why so?" Roger enquired.

" 'Tis on account of the rumours of war that are in everyone's mouth. I do not know the rights of it. Some say that England is arming to attack Spain hoping that we shall feel obliged to go to the assistance of our old ally, which would then give the English a good excuse for seizing our colonies while we are in our present weak state. Others that it is a plot hatched between our Court and the Spaniards, to make war the excuse for marching a Spanish army into France, and with it depriving the people of their liberties. As a result of all this talk, both Englishmen and Spaniards are now regarded here with much suspicion, and liable to become the object of rough usage by the mob."

Roger thanked him, assured him that there was not an iota of truth in the story that Britain desired a war with France, then returned to his bed to make up some more of the sleep he had lost. When he awoke on the Friday morning he was feeling considerably less sore, mentally refreshed and in good heart to tackle the weighty matter upon which he had come to Paris; so he dug a sober suit out of the trunk he kept at La Belle Etoile, and as soon as he was dressed hired a hackney-coach to take him out to Passy.

Mr. Pitt's strictures upon the irreligious Bishop were one of the few matters upon which Roger still disagreed with his master. Monsieur de Talleyrand-Perigord was, he knew, an extremely slippery customer but, nevertheless, he believed him to be fundamentally honest and a real friend to Britain. In any case it was now of the utmost importance to Roger that he should get reliable information on how the leaders of the National Assembly viewed the prospect of war, so he had no hesitation in resuming relations with his secret ally.

When he arrived at the neat little house the Bishop was not yet up; but soon afterwards he came downstairs in a flowered silk dressing-gown and, limping into the sitting-room, made Roger welcome. A few minutes later the two of them were exchanging news over a breakfast of crisp new rolls and hot chocolate.

They had not been talking for long before Roger turned the con­versation to the Anglo-Spanish dispute. As he had been travelling for over a fortnight he had had no authentic news of the latest develop­ments, so he opened the matter by enquiring what his host thought of the general situation.

"I very much fear there will be war," replied de Perigord gravely. " 'Tis common knowledge that for six weeks past the most active preparations have been going forward in the dockyards of both Britain and Spain; and the attitude of both countries is highly belligerent. It seems that a belated Spanish reply to the first British note merely reiterated Spain's claim to sovereignty in the Pacific, and on its receipt early this month Mr. Pitt declared such pretensions totally inadmissible. My latest intelligence is that four days ago he asked Parliament to vote a million pounds for war supplies, and it was at once agreed. King Louis is using his best endeavours to mediate between the two disputants, but I doubt if that will have much effect when two such unbending peoples feel their honour touched upon."

"King Louis is still in a position to exert influence in international affairs, then?" Roger asked with interest.

"Most certainly. His powers in that sphere have been in no way curtailed; and if war breaks out it will be for him to say if France shall enter it."

"Think you she will do so?"

" 'Tis difficult to say." The Bishop broke one horn off a croissant and popped it into his mouth. "Our honour is definitely pledged to assist Spain in the event of hostilities; but the country is much divided on the issue, and if Spain acted precipitately that might be seized upon as an excuse by us to evade our liability."

"It is my belief that for all her high tone Spain will not dare to fight unless she is certain of French backing," Roger remarked. "And it is with the object of doing all I can to prevent encouragement being given her that I am in Paris now."

"Then you may rely on my doing all in my power to aid you," de Perigord replied quickly. "France is in no position to fight a war. Sedition has played havoc with our dockyards, our ships' crews are mutinous, the troops refuse to obey their officers, and our treasury is empty. War could only spell disaster."

"I shall be most grateful for your help. But tell me: is your view that held generally?"

"Widely but, unfortunately, not generally. In the Assembly the Extreme Left is against war, and although small it represents a con­siderable part of the nation; yet by no means its most influential part. The better type of people are more patriotic, although in this case I think their patriotism misguided. They believe that France's ancient enemy is seeking to provoke a war in order that she may take advantage of our present weakness. In consequence, anti-British feeling is now very strong here; and, out of pride, the bulk of the educated classes would not hesitate to support a war policy rather than see France suffer the least humiliation."

"What of the Court?"

"The King, as usual, is vacillating. He sees the danger; hence his attempts to mediate and keep Spain and Britain from one another's throats, and thus eliminate all risk of our being drawn into the quarrel. On the other hand he is being hard pressed by the Extreme Right to give full support to Spain."

"Why should the Right be so belligerent?"

De Perigord gave Roger a wily smile. "They see in war the one hope left of restoring the monarchy to its ancient power. As I have just said, a great part of the nation, and all its most solid elements, are already spoiling for a fight. A patriotic war would naturally rally them round the throne. The Right argue that with France in danger discipline would at once be restored in the army and marine; and that with a war in progress it would require only a well-organized coup d’etat to replace the National Assembly with the old form of government." "Does not the Assembly see its danger?"

"The Left does, but not the Centre; and the Right is now intriguing on these lines in hopes of putting an end to the present unhappy state of affairs."

After a moment, Roger said thoughtfully: "Even if the power of the monarchy were restored in this way, it could not long exist without granting a Liberal Constitution; and knowing you secretly to be in favour of such a regime. I am somewhat puzzled to find you opposed to the only policy that offers some hope of it."

The Bishop shook his head. "Nay. I have but one interest at heart: the future welfare of my country. I am convinced that we could not wage a victorious war, and that defeat would mean our final ruin. Therefore I will be no party to this suicidal gamble."

"I see your reasoning," Roger nodded; "and admire your decision. Since that is your view, I take it that de Mirabeau, who thinks so much on the same lines as yourself, is with you ?"

"Alas, no! I would to God he were. But he is secretly advising the Court to adopt a policy that will lead to war."

"Mon Dieu !" exclaimed Roger. "I thought him near as clear-sighted as yourself, and as strongly convinced that a Franco-British alliance would prove the greatest blessing that could be granted to Europe."

"That was his view. It is still, I think, as a long-term policy. But he is now set upon taking any step, however desperate, that might lead to a restoration of the royal authority."

The Bishop pulled a stiff parchment from the pocket of his dressing-gown, and went on: "I received this no more than half an hour before your arrival. As President it will be my duty to lay it before the National Assembly today; and 'tis certain that its publication will cause the war fever that is now running through France to become acute. It is a letter from His Majesty in which he informs the Assembly that, owing to the menace which Britain's war preparations hold for France, he has ordered fourteen sail-of-the-line to be got ready for sea. It is signed by the Foreign Secretary, de Montmorin; but I know it to be the work of de Mirabeau."