Dennis Wheatley - The Rising Storm

"He is Grand Master of the Order in France, is he not?"

"He is." Mr. Hailes drummed with his finger-tips gently on the table. "That in itself is no treason; for the Masons are an offshoot of the German Rosicrucians and Illuminati, and are supposed to do no more than concern themselves with mystical matters. But I know for a fact that under cover of these activities they pursue political aims. Nearly every leading figure in the troubles that have afflicted France in the past few years has been a Mason; and 'tis my belief that His Highness is using the widespread ramifications of this secret society to bring about a revolution."

"I too have gathered that the Masonic clubs are hotbeds of sedition. But is there not a risk that by whistling for the wind His Highness may raise a whirlwind in which he will himself be destroyed ?"

"No doubt he flatters himself that his great popularity with the masses will enable him to ride out the storm; and there are fair grounds for believing that it might be so. All classes are united in their demand for a Constitution, but not one per cent, of the nation has yet reached the point at which it would even listen to any suggestion of abolishing the monarchy."

For a moment they were silent, then Roger said: "Think you that the present state of Paris is an exception, or indicative of feeling through­out the greater part of the country?"

"The unrest is very widespread," replied Mr. Hailes gravely. "And that is hardly to be wondered at. The elections have thrown the whole population into an unnatural fever, and in addition the great scarcity of corn in many parts gives real grounds for anger against the Govern­ment. There have been serious bread riots recently at Caen, Orleans, Cette and many other places; and the accounts from Marseilles are still very alarming. The troops were besieged in their barracks there until Monsieur de Mirabeau used his great popularity with the mob to call them off; but street fighting has continued, and hardly a day passes without the loss of some lives."

" 'Tis said by many that the high price of bread is caused by the Government deliberately withholding supplies of grain, in order to make more money. But I can scarce credit that there is any truth in that."

"There is none. On the contrary, the King has done everything he can to bring relief to the people, even to buying corn from abroad. Such rumours nearly always become current at times of great shortage, and the present one is mainly due to the exceptionally poor harvest last year. You may not recall hearing mention of it but a storm of the first magni­tude swept France and destroyed a great part of the standing crops. The ensuing floods were of such severity that houses and cattle were washed away and many people drowned. Then the situation was further aggravated by the wickedness of the winter. All the great rivers of France were frozen and even the port of Marseilles was covered with ice. In such conditions prices were bound to rise and many localities find themselves actually faced with famine. Unfortunately, apart from the better weather, the poor can hope for little amelioration of their hard lot until the next harvest has been gathered; so I fear we must anticipate a continuance of these outbreaks of violence all through the coming summer."

"I note that you qualify your remarks by saying that the corn shortage is 'mainly due’ to these misfortunes," Roger commented. "That infers that you have in mind some other cause which has made the situation even worse than it need have been."

Mr. Hailes gave him an appraising glance. "You are very quick, young man; and since we are talking in the strictest confidence I will name it. Having no proof of this I would certainly not do so in other circumstances, but I believe you were not far from the mark when you suggested that large quantities of grain are deliberately being withheld from the markets. Not by the King, of course, but by a ring of wealthy private individuals. Moreover, I suspect that their object is not so much gain as to ferment further outcry against the Government."

"Then, in view of our conversation a while back, I think I could make a good guess at the name of one of the ring, if not its leader."

"And you would be right," said Mr. Hailes with equal quickness. "His Highness is one of the richest men in France, and it is as certain as such a thing can be that he has been using a part of his millions for this nefarious purpose; for the names of those who made the biggest purchase of grain last spring were those of men I know to be his agents."

"Would that of the Marquis de St. Huruge be among them?"

"No. But I think you right in believing him to be secretly an Orleanist, in spite of his position at Court. And he is by no means the only noble there whom I judge capable of biting the hand that has so far fed him. If my informants know their business the Due de Laincourt is another; and I suspect that even the Due de Biron is trimming his sails, so that should the wind from Orleans blow its argosy to a rich port his barque will be among it."

"De Biron!" exclaimed Roger. "Surely you are wrong in that. In the days when he was Monsieur de Lazun the Queen showed him so much kindness that he was freely spoken of as her lover."

"I know it; and he has never forgiven her for not being quite kind enough," replied Hailes, cynically. "God forbid that I should appear to criticize Her Majesty's rectitude, or that of King Louis either; but the present troubles of these two are in part, at least, the outcome of their own integrity. Neither have great brains and he is cursed more than any man I ever knew with the incapacity to make up his mind. But both are reasonably intelligent and absolutely honest. Their tragedy is that they are too honest for this degenerate era, and refuse to pander to the greed and lusts of the frailer beings with whom they are constantly brought into contact. That is why, in their hour of need, I fear that they will find themselves entirely isolated."

Mr. Hailes gave a sigh, then slapped the table with his hand and stood up. "I fear I must leave you now, Chevalier. I have a despatch for London on the Reveillon affair that I must complete, so that His Grace can sign it on his arising. The money shall be sent by a safe hand as you have directed. It remains only for me to wish you good fortune."

Roger thanked him, and watched the portly but unobtrusive figure move away. Then he ordered himself another drink and spent an hour scanning the news-sheets. None, other than Government publications, were then issued in France; but there were scores of pamphlets pro­duced by private people holding every variety of opinion. Some were obviously inspired by the Court, but most of these struck Roger as weak and lacking in conviction. The great majority were anti-Government and many of them were both so treasonable and so scurrilous that even a year earlier they would have landed their authors behind bars. In one the Dauphin's illness was asserted to have been caused by the Queen habitually making him drunk for her amusement; in another she was accused of unnatural vice with her favourite, the Duchess de Polignac.

It seemed extraordinary to Roger that the police permitted such filth to be left lying about openly in the public cafes; and he could only suppose that the output was now so great that it had become beyond their powers to deal with it; or that they too were in league with the Queen's enemies. One thing was certain: it was a clear indication that the forces of law and order had already lost all power of initiative.

Feeling slightly sick from what he had read he left the cafe and employed himself for the next hour or so buying various things he might need on his journey. At two o'clock he sat down to a belated dinner—as the French then termed their midday meal—and by three o'clock he was at the horse-dealer's in the Rue Beauberg.