The Last Cavalier: Being the Adventures of Count Sainte-Hermine in the Age of Napoleon. Alexandre Dumas

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ saber or rifle, so he picked up an axe and split open the head of the first soldier who approached him. The Republicans backed off. Guillemot, still brandishing his axe, reached the door, parried the thrust of a bayonet that barely touched his skin, and escaped across the fields. When he came to a barrier where a soldier stood guard, he killed the guard and leaped over the barrier. And when a Blue in pursuit of him was at his heels, Guillemot turned around and split open the man’s chest with one swing of his axe. Finally he was free to come join my Chouans and me.

      “As for me.…” Cadoudal added, bowing modestly.

      “As for you,” Bonaparte interrupted, “I know more about you than you yourself would tell me. You picked up where your fathers left off. Instead of the Combat of the Thirty, you were the victor at the Combat of the One Hundred, and some day people will call the war you have been waging the war of the giants.” Then, stepping forward, he said, “Come, George. I’d like to speak to you alone.”

      George hesitated a moment, but followed him all the same. He would have preferred that his two officers also hear any words he and the head of the French republic would exchange.

      Bonaparte, however, said nothing until they were out of earshot. Then he spoke: “Listen, George,” he said, “I need energetic men to help me to finish the task I’ve undertaken. I used to have near me a heart of bronze on which I could depend as if he were me myself. You met him: Roland de Montrevel. A despondency I could never fully understand led him to suicide, for his death truly was a suicide. Are you willing to join me? I have proposed the rank of colonel for you, but you are worth more than that, I know, and I can offer you the rank of major general.”

      “I thank you from the depths of my heart, General,” George responded, “but you would think less of me if I accepted.”

      “Why do you say that?” Bonaparte asked quickly.

      “Because I swore allegiance to the Bourbons, and to the Bourbons I’d remain faithful even if I’d accept.”

      “Come now,” said the First Consul, “is there no way I can get you to join me?”

      Cadoudal shook his head.

      “You have heard people slandering me,” said Bonaparte.

      “General,” answered the Royalist officer, “might I be permitted to repeat the things people have told me?”

      “Why not? Do you think I’m not strong enough to hear the bad as well as the good that people speak of me?”

      “Please note that I affirm nothing. All I shall do is repeat what people say,” said Cadoudal.

      “Go ahead,” said the First Consul, a slightly worried smile on his face.

      “They say that you were able to come back to France so successfully, without hindrance by the English fleet, because you had made a treaty with Commodore Sidney Smith. They say the terms of the treaty allowed you to return without threat on the agreed-to condition that you would restore our former kings to the throne.”

      “George,” said Bonaparte, “you are one of those men whose esteem I value and whom, consequently, I’d not want to give any cause for slander. Since returning from Egypt I have received two letters from the Comte de Provence. If such a treaty with Sir Sidney Smith had existed, do you think the count would have failed to make reference to it in one of the letters he did me the honor of sending? I shall show you these letters, and you can judge for yourself if the accusation brought against me has any basis.”

      In the course of their walking, they’d come to the Louis Quatorze Room’s door. Bonaparte opened it. “Duroc,” he said, “go ask Bourrienne to send me the two letters from the Comte de Provence as well as my response. They are in the middle drawer of my desk, in a leather portfolio.”

      While Duroc carried out the assigned task, Bonaparte continued: “How astonished I am to see how much your former kings constitute virtually a religion to you plebeians! Suppose I did restore the throne—something I’m not at all inclined to do, I tell you—what would be in it for you people who have shed your blood to see the throne restored? Not even the confirmation of the rank you have fought to obtain. A miller’s son a colonel? Come now. In the royal armies, was there ever a colonel who was not a nobleman born? Among the ungrateful nobility has ever a man risen so high because of his own worth or even for services rendered? Whereas with me, George, you can rise to any rank or level. For the higher I rise, the higher shall I raise those surrounding me.… Ah, here are the letters. Give them to me, Duroc.”

      Duroc handed him three documents. The first one Bonaparte opened bore the date of February 20, 1800, and we have copied the Comte de Provence’s letter from the archives without changing a single word.

      Whatever their apparent conduct may be, men such as you, monsieur, never cause concern. You have accepted a high position, and I am grateful to you for that. Better than anyone else, you know what strength and power are necessary for a great country’s happiness. Save France from its own fury, and you will have fulfilled my heart’s deepest wish; give it back its king, and future generations will bless your memory. Your importance to the country will always be too great for me to pay the debt my ancestor and I owe you by some high appointment.

      Louis

      “Do you see any allusion to a treaty in that letter?” asked Bonaparte.

      “General, I admit that I do not,” George answered. “And you didn’t answer the letter?”

      “I must say that I thought there was no hurry, and I expected I would receive a second letter before deciding. It was not long in coming. A few months later, this undated letter arrived.” He passed it to Cadoudal.

      You have surely known for a long time, General, that my esteem for you is assured. If you were to doubt that I am capable of gratitude, propose your own position and set the destiny of your friends. As for my principles, I am French. Lenient by nature, reason makes me even more so.

      No, the victor at Lodi, Castiglione, and Arcole, the conqueror of Italy and Egypt, cannot prefer vain celebrity to true glory. However, you are wasting precious time. We can guarantee France’s glory. I say “we” because to accomplish that, I need Bonaparte, and because Bonaparte cannot do it without me.

      General, Europe has its eyes on you, glory awaits you, and I am impatient to bring peace back to my people.

      Louis

      “As you see, monsieur,” Bonaparte said, “there’s no more reference to a treaty in the second letter than there was in the first.”

      “Dare I ask, General, if you answered this one?”

      “I was about to have Bourrienne answer the letter and sign it when he pointed out to me that since the letters were penned by the Comte de Provence himself, it would be more appropriate for me to respond in my own handwriting, however bad it may be. Since it was an important matter, I did the best I could, and the letter I wrote was at least readable. Here’s a copy,” said Bonaparte, handing George a copy Bourrienne had made of the letter he himself had written to the Comte de Provence. It contained this refusal:

      I received your letter, monsieur; I thank you for your kind words.

      You ought not wish to return to France; you would need to tread over one hundred thousand cadavers.

      Sacrifice your interests to France’s peace СКАЧАТЬ