The Companions of Jehu, Alexandre Dumas père [top 10 best books of all time .TXT] 📗

First Consul.

Morgan bowed and made three steps forward. Bonaparte partly returned the bow with a slight motion of the head.

"You told my aide-de-camp, Colonel Roland, that you had a communication to make me."

"Yes, citizen First Consul."

"Does that communication require a private interview?"

"No, citizen First Consul, although it is of such importance--"

"You would prefer to be alone."

"Beyond doubt. But prudence--"

"The most prudent thing in France, citizen Morgan, is courage."

"My presence here, general, proves that I agree with you perfectly."

Bonaparte turned to the young colonel.

"Leave us alone, Roland," said he.

"But, general--" objected Roland.

Bonaparte went up to him and said in a low voice: "I see what it is. You are curious to know what this mysterious cavalier of the highroad has to say to me. Don't worry; you shall know."

"That's not it. But suppose, as you said just now, he is an assassin."

"Didn't you declare he was not. Come, don't be a baby; leave us."

Roland went out.

"Now that we are alone, sir," said the First Consul, "speak!"

Morgan, without answering, drew a letter from his pocket and gave it to the general. Bonaparte examined it. It was addressed to him, and the seal bore the three fleurs-de-lis of France.

"Oh!" he said, "what is this, sir?"

"Read it, citizen First Consul."

Bonaparte opened the letter and looked at the signature: "Louis," he said.

"Louis," repeated Morgan.

"What Louis?"

"Louis de Bourbon, I presume."

"Monsieur le Comte de Provence, brother of Louis XVI."

"Consequently Louis XVIII., since his nephew, the Dauphin, is dead."

Bonaparte looked at the stranger again. It was evident that Morgan was a pseudonym, assumed to hide his real name. Then, turning his eyes on the letter, he read:


January 3, 1800.

Whatever may be their apparent conduct, monsieur, men like you
never inspire distrust. You have accepted an exalted post, and
I thank you for so doing. You know, better than others, that
force and power are needed to make the happiness of a great
nation. Save France from her own madness, and you will fulfil
the desire of my heart; restore her king, and future generations
will bless your memory. If you doubt my gratitude, choose your
own place, determine the future of your friends. As for my
principles, I am a Frenchman, clement by nature, still more so
by judgment. No! the conqueror of Lodi, Castiglione and Arcola,
the conqueror of Italy and Egypt, cannot prefer an empty
celebrity to fame. Lose no more precious time. We can secure
the glory of France. I say we, because I have need of Bonaparte
for that which he cannot achieve without me. General, the eyes
of Europe are upon you, glory awaits you, and I am eager to
restore my people to happiness.

LOUIS.


Bonaparte turned to the young man, who stood erect, motionless and silent as a statue.

"Do you know the contents of this letter?" he asked.

The young man bowed. "Yes, citizen First Consul."

"It was sealed, however."

"It was sent unsealed under cover to the person who intrusted it to me. And before doing so he made me read it, that I might know its full importance."

"Can I know the name of the person who intrusted it to you?"

"Georges Cadoudal."

Bonaparte started slightly.

"Do you know Georges Cadoudal?" he asked.

"He is my friend."

"Why did he intrust it to you rather than to another?"

"Because he knew that in telling me to deliver the letter to you with my own hand it would be done."

"You have certainly kept your promise, sir."

"Not altogether yet, citizen First Consul."

"How do you mean? Haven't you delivered it to me?"

"Yes, but I promised to bring back an answer."

"But if I tell you I will not give one."

"You will have answered; not precisely as I could have wished, but it will be an answer."

Bonaparte reflected for a few moments. Then shaking his shoulders to rid himself of his thoughts, he said: "They are fools."

"Who, citizen?" asked Morgan.

"Those who write me such letters--fools, arch fools. Do they take me for a man who patterns his conduct by the past? Play Monk! What good would it do? Bring back another Charles II.? No, faith, it is not worth while. When a man has Toulon, the 13th Vendemiaire, Lodi, Castiglione, Arcola, Rivoli and the Pyramids behind him, he's no Monk. He has the right to aspire to more than a duchy of Albemarle, and the command by land and sea of the forces of his Majesty King Louis XVIII."

"For that reason you are asked to make your own conditions, citizen First Consul."

Bonaparte started at the sound of that voice as if he had forgotten that any one was present.

"Not counting," he went on, "that it is a ruined family, a dead branch of a rotten trunk. The Bourbons have so intermarried with one another that the race is depraved; Louis XIV. exhausted all its sap, all its vigor.--You know history, sir?" asked Bonaparte, turning to the young man.

"Yes, general," he replied; "at least as well as a _ci-devant_ can know it."

"Well, you must have observed in history, especially in that of France, that each race has its point of departure, its culmination, and its decadence. Look at the direct line of the Capets; starting from Hugues Capet, they attained their highest grandeur in Philippe Auguste and Louis XI., and fell with Philippe V. and Charles IV. Take the Valois; starting with Philippe VI., they culminated in Francois I. and fell with Charles IX. and Henry III. See the Bourbons; starting with Henry IV., they have their culminating point in Louis XIV. and fall with Louis XV. and Louis XVI.--only they fall lower than the others; lower in debauchery with Louis XV., lower in misfortune with Louis XVI. You talk to me of the Stuarts, and show me the example of Monk. Will you tell me who succeeded Charles II.? James II. And who to James II.? William of Orange, a usurper. Would it not have been better, I ask you, if Monk had put the crown on his own head? Well, if I was fool enough to restore Louis XVIII. to the throne, like Charles II. he would have no children, and, like James II., his brother Charles X. would succeed him, and like him would be driven out by some William of Orange. No, no! God has not put the destiny of this great and glorious country we call France into my hands that I should cast it back to those who have gambled with it and lost it."

"Permit me, general, to remark that I did not ask you for all this."

"But I, I ask you--"

"I think you are doing me the honor to take me for posterity."

Bonaparte started, turned round, saw to whom he was speaking, and was silent.

"I only want," said Morgan, with a dignity which surprised the man whom he addressed, "a yes or a no."

"And why do you want that?"

"To know whether we must continue to war against you as an enemy, or fall at your feet as a savior."

"War," said Bonaparte, "war! Madmen, they who war with me! Do they not see that I am the elect of God?"

"Attila said the same thing."

"Yes; but he was the elect of destruction; I, of the new era. The grass withered where he stepped; the harvest will ripen where I pass the plow. War? Tell me what has become of those who have made it against me? They lie upon the plains of Piedmont, of Lombardy and Cairo!"

"You forget the Vendee; the Vendee is still afoot."

"Afoot, yes! but her leaders? Cathelineau, Lescure, La Rochejaquelin, d'Elbee, Bonchamps, Stoffiet, Charette?"

"You are speaking of men only; the men have been mown down, it is true; but the principle is still afoot, and for it are fighting Autichamp, Suzannet, Grignon, Frotte, Chatillon, Cadoudal. The younger may not be worth the elder, but if they die as their elders died, what more can you ask?"

"Let them beware! If I determine upon a campaign against the Vendee I shall send neither Santerre nor Rossignol!"

"The Convention sent Kleber, and the Directory, Hoche!"

"I shall not send; I shall go myself."

"Nothing worse can happen to them than to be killed like Lescure, or shot like Charette."

"It may happen that I pardon them."

"Cato taught us how to escape the pardon of Caesar."

"Take care; you are quoting a Republican!"

"Cato was one of those men whose example can be followed, no matter to what party they belong."

"And suppose I were to tell you that I hold the Vendee in the hollow of my hand?"

"You!"

"And that within three months, she will lay down her arms if I choose?"

The young man shook his head.

"You don't believe me?"

"I hesitate to believe you."

"If I affirm to you that what I say is true; if I prove it by telling you the means, or rather the men, by whom I shall bring this about?"

"If a man like General Bonaparte affirms a thing, I shall believe it; and if that thing is the pacification of the Vendee, I shall say in my turn: 'Beware! Better the Vendee fighting than the Vendee conspiring. The Vendee fighting means the sword, the Vendee conspiring means the dagger.'"

"Oh! I know your dagger," said Bonaparte. "Here it is."

And he drew from a drawer the dagger he had taken from Roland and laid it on the table within reach of Morgan's hand.

"But," he added, "there is some distance between Bonaparte's breast and an assassin's dagger. Try."

And he advanced to the young man with a flaming eye.

"I did not come here to assassinate you," said the young man, coldly. "Later, if I consider your death indispensable to the cause, I shall do all in my power, and if I fail it will not be because you are Marius and I the Cimbrian. Have you anything else to say to me, citizen First Consul?" concluded the young man, bowing.

"Yes. Tell Cadoudal that when he is ready to fight the enemy, instead of Frenchmen, I have a colonel's commission ready signed in my desk for him."

"Cadoudal commands, not a regiment, but an army. You were unwilling to retrograde from Bonaparte to Monk; why should you expect him to descend from general to colonel? Have you nothing else to say to me, citizen First Consul?"

"Yes. Have you any way of transmitting my reply to the Comte de Provence?"

"You mean King Louis XVIII.?"

"Don't let us quibble over words. To him who wrote to me."

"His envoy is now at the camp at Aubiers."

"Well, I have changed my mind; I shall send him an answer. These Bourbons are so blind that this one would misinterpret my silence."

And Bonaparte, sitting down at his desk,