Evil in a Mask (37 page)

During the cool evening hours, the caravan covered some fifteen miles, then made camp for the night. At first light next morning, as preparations were in the making for the next stage of the journey, and the scores of camels being prodded on to their legs, Roger told the caravan leader that he had changed his plans. Then, accompanied by his bodyguard, he left.

By ten o'clock, the heat was so terrific that they had to take shelter in a mud-walled village. The stench in the hovel that the headman courteously led him to rest in was such that he was nearly sick; but he managed to doze there for some hours; then, after a meal prepared by his own men from his own stores, they set out again. Knowing something of the ways of the country, he feared it likely that, while his troop rested, the gravely-polite headman might have sent word to some brigand chief in the neighbourhood that a foreigner with only a light escort was there, and that evening would be on his way north. But this fear proved groundless. Unmolested, at ten o'clock that night, they rode into the city of Najafabad.

Early next morning he enquired of the master of the caravanserai about caravans proceeding to Dezful and learned to his annoyance that one was not due to leave until three days later. Further influenced by the knowledge that if he did go with it his progress would have to conform to that of the slow-moving camels, he decided to retain his escort and push on with them.

At the Persian border they refused to accompany him further; but he secured Mesopotamian Arabs to replace them and, later, Syrians. On one occasion when riding through a
rocky gorge, they were fired upon; but, putting their horses into a gallop, succeeded in getting away, the only casualty being one of the escorts who had a bullet through the fleshy part of his left arm. On another occasion Roger woke one night in the desert, to find one of his Syrian escort in his tent, and about to make off with his musket. The attempted theft could well have been the first act in a plan by them all to mutiny and murder him, then make off with whatever money he had. He could not afford to risk that, so he swiftly cocked the pistol he always kept beside him and, as the man was crawling out of the tent, shot him in the back of the head.

After that, he met with no further troubles. There is much truth in the saying: ‘He travels fastest who travels alone.' Moreover, he did not stop for two days in Babylon, as Gardane's party had done on the way out. In consequence, he made considerably better time, completing his journey in well under a month, and arriving at the port of Antioch on September 26th.

Inured to roughing it, he decided to take the first westward-bound ship available, and next morning went aboard a
felucca
that was about to sail for Cyprus. There he picked up a small but fast Greek trader bound for Crete. In Heraklion he was delayed two days, but then found better quarters on a Neapolitan brig which carried him to Catania in Sicily. Protected by the British Navy, the island was still ruled by King Ferdinand, who had fled there when the French had chased him out of Naples; so, while in Catania, Roger had to continue to wear his Balkan costume and pose, as he had done since leaving Antioch, as a Bulgarian merchant. But he was lucky in that only a day later he secured a passage to Valencia in a three-masted barque.

On the second evening out, he had cause for considerable anxiety, as the barque was sighted and chased by a Corsair from one of the ports on the Barbary coast. Armed only with six twelve-pounders, the barque could not have put up a prolonged resistance and, once boarded by a swarm of ferocious Moors, her crew would have been swiftly overwhelmed. But fortunately night was coming on, and she got away under
cover of darkness, landing Roger safely at Valencia on October 25th.

The difficulties of shaving during his long journey from Isfahan to Antioch had decided him to let his beard grow and, after much thought, by the time he took ship he had formed a plan about how he should proceed when he reached Lisbon. The plan entailed a change of appearance; so he had continued to refrain from shaving, while crossing the Mediterranean, and now had a curly brown beard, moustache and side-whiskers.

Up in his room at the inn to which he had been recommended, he studied his face in the mirror, and it struck him that the whole of his lower face being covered by hair might give anyone who knew him the impression that he had deliberated attempted to disguise himself. Sending for hot water and scissors, he first cut his beard short and shaved his chin, then carefully trimmed his moustache to give it a smarter appearance. Next, as Spain was France's ally, he got out of his Eastern garments and put on the well-worn uniform that he had brought in his solitary valise.

After he had dined that evening, the heavy expenses of his long journey had reduced his funds to three gold pieces. However, for many years past he had been in the habit of always travelling with a packet of small diamonds in his moneybelt; so, next morning, he sold some of them to a jeweller for a sufficient sum to get him to Lisbon.

There remained the question as to whether he should proceed there by sea, or overland. The former would have been less fatiguing; but his recent narrow escape from being captured by Barbary pirates made him disinclined to risk taking passage in a ship that would have to sail close to the North African coast before passing through the Straits of Gibraltar. In consequence, he elected to cross the Peninsula and, knowing how bad were the roads in Spain, to take the highway to Madrid; although that entailed a detour from the direct route. Riding post, he set out from Valencia soon after midday and, four days later, on October 30th, he entered the Spanish capital.

On the following morning, he walked round to the French Embassy. Of the porter on the gate he enquired who was now Ambassador there, and was pleased to learn that it was the Marquis de Beauharnais. The Marquis was the brother-in-law of the Empress Josephine by her first marriage, so Roger had met him on many occasions, both at Court and in the more intimate family circle of the Bonapartes. He sent in his name and, a quarter of an hour later, was ushered into the Ambassador's study.

The tall, thin Marquis came out from behind his desk, gave Roger a friendly smile and said, ‘
Mon cher Breuc
! This is a delightful surprise; and, may I add, it is equally surprising to see one of His Majesty's
aides-de-camp
in such a travesty of his usual brilliant uniform. What brings you here, and in such a sad condition?'

Roger returned the smile. ‘It is a long story, Excellency, and an even longer journey from the Emperor's headquarters in Poland via Constantinople to Persia, then from there back to Madrid. Hence the parlous condition of my garments.'

‘Persia! That is indeed a far cry. Please to be seated and tell me of it.'

‘Willingly, if Your Excellency has the leisure to listen. But I imagine that you must have many matters requiring your attention; so perhaps it would be better to postpone telling my story until a more suitable time. Meanwhile, I would add that my journey is not yet completed. I am on my way to Lisbon. I called only to pay my respects and, if you will be so obliging, learn from you how things now stand in Europe. For many weeks, while crossing deserts and the Mediterranean, I have been deprived of all news. Has His Majesty yet conquered England, or is he making ready to descend on India?'

The Marquis laughed. ‘Neither, as yet; although, no doubt, he will do both in due course. He has, however, made yet another of his brothers a monarch. Some months ago, he consolidated a number of German Principalities into what is now known as the Kingdom of Westphalia, and gave it to Jerome. But there have been no great battles since Friedland.

‘In August, Gustavus of Sweden asked for an armistice. Austria maintains her neutrality. Russia is our ally. Apart from those, His Majesty is the master of the greater part of Europe, either directly or through subservient Governments who dare not defy his wishes. England alone now remains entirely our enemy.'

‘And how has the war against perfidious Albion prospered?' Roger enquired.

‘Her Navy still rules the oceans; but on land there is little she can do against us. She is war-weary and, until last spring, her Government had no man of spirit in it. The Duke of Portland then became Prime Minister, with a Mr. Canning as his Foreign Secretary. Canning is a man to watch, for it was he who inspired the only serious blow against France that has been struck for the past year or more.'

‘I pray you, tell me of it.'

The Ambassador took a pinch of snuff. ‘It concerned Denmark. After the Treaty of Tilsit, when the Czar became our ally, the British feared that would lead to the closing of the Baltic, and that they would no longer be able to supply the Anglo-Swedish army, which was still maintaining its hold on Stralsund in Pomerania. There was, moreover, the even more important question of the Danish Fleet. The countries under the Emperor's control can send fifty-nine ships of the line to sea. The Czar could give us twenty-four and, had we been able to use the Danes' eighteen, that would have given us parity with Britain; thus giving us the prospect of reversing the decision at Trafalgar.

‘France and England vied with each other in offers to induce the Danes to become their ally. The Danes wished to remain neutral and refused all overtures. Fearing that the Emperor would invade Denmark and seize her Navy, Mr. Canning initiated swift and violent action. Under Lord Cathcart, he sent the greater part of the British Navy to Copenhagen, accompanied by General Sir Wellesley with transports carrying a large body of troops. They attempted to overawe the Danes into surrendering their Fleet, by threatening to bombard the city. The Danish Prince Royal gallantly refused
to submit. Wellesley landed outside the capital with his troops, and eighty-eight vessels of the British Navy proceeded to fire their cannon upon it. The end was inevitable surrender. For six weeks the British occupied the Danish fortifications, then sailed away with the captured Danish Fleet.'

Hiding his delight, Roger remarked, ‘It was an unorthodox procedure to attack a neutral without provocation; but sound strategically.'

‘The British paid a price for it, though,' the Marquis smiled. ‘In their anxiety to overawe the Danes, they withdrew their troops and warships from the Baltic to assist in the operation. Left unsupported in Stralsund, King Gustavus was compelled to ask terms of Marshal Brune. So Sweden is now out of the war. Moreover, so incensed were the Danes by Britain's high-handed treatment of them that, no sooner had the English evacuated the strong places in the neighbourhood of Copenhagen than they declared war and are now become our valuable allies.'

‘That being so,' Roger remarked, ‘the only loopholes left in His Majesty's “Continental System” are the ports of Portugal.'

‘Indeed yes; and long before the Emperor proclaimed his “System”, he endeavoured to close them. As far back as ‘95 he urged the Directory to exert pressure on Spain to coerce Portugal into withdrawing from her alliance with England. In 1801 after he had become First Consul, he renewed his attempts and, ever since, when he has not been occupied with grave matters, he has again taken up the question.'

‘It amazes me that over so many years he has not succeeded.'

‘There have been many difficulties. The Portuguese are a stubborn people. They cannot be attacked except by an army that first crosses Spanish territory. The ruling families of both France and Spain being Bourbons, the Revolution and subsequent execution of Louis XVI provoked the greatest possible antagonism in this country, and led to Spain making war on France. Yet, even after the brief, inglorious campaign of ‘94, King Carlos paid only lip-service to the treaty forced
on him at Basle, and refrained from exerting pressure on Portugal, because his sister is the Princess of Brazil and the wife of the Prince Regent Joao.

‘In 1801, France pushed the issue to the point where Portugal actually went to war with Spain. Although the Portuguese were speedily defeated and by the Treaty of Badajoz France should have got what she wanted, Spain never enforced its terms. For a dozen years past, Portugal has alternately given way to Franco-Spanish demands, then slid back into her old alliance with England, made millions as a broker for her merchandise, and allowed her Navy to use Portuguese ports as bases.'

‘It seems then that nothing short of an invasion of the Peninsula will finally solve this problem to the satisfaction of the Emperor?'

The Marquis nodded. ‘That is the situation; and for its success we need Spain's full co-operation, instead of the only half-hearted support which the dictator has for so long given us.'

‘You refer to Manuel Godoy, the Prince of the Peace? I met him way back in 1790 when I was here as a very young man. I thought Godoy rather charming, and by no means unintelligent.'

‘Then you assessed him rightly. Most people regard him as no more than a handsome, stupid oaf with an insatiable lust for wealth, power and pretty women; who, as Queen Maria Luisa's lover, and with the absolute confidence of King Carlos, has ruled Spain for fifteen years. They are wrong. Boundlessly avaricious and lecherous he unquestionably is; but he has ideals and the cunning to defeat those who oppose them. His main objective has always been to keep Spain out of war, and in that has largely succeeded. He has also had the courage to defy the Church, and has broken its previous stranglehold on the country. Due to him there are in Spain today several Institutes which are outside the control of the Church. He put an end to the barbarous Inquisition and expelled the Jesuits. It was he who permitted the Jews to return to Spain. He is a patron of the Arts and has established a
fine Botanical Garden. Villainous fellow though he is, I confess to a sneaking admiration for him. His attitude towards our master has always been most friendly; yet his reluctance to involve Spain in war has again and again thwarted French interests. And that is still the situation.'

At that moment a handsome grandfather clock in a corner of the room chimed the half-hour. Glancing in that direction, the Marquis said: