The Sultan's Daughter

' I think you underrate him. In America it was not his strategy that was at fault but the Navy's failure to break the blockade and bring him reinforcements and supplies. Later, in India, he did extremely well in the wars against the native Princes.'

' Oh, India! What chance could any horde of natives, armed with spears and javelins, stand against well-trained European troops equipped with modern artillery? ' Bonaparte's eyes suddenly lit up. ' One day I will go to India and throw the English out. That done, within half a year I could make myself master of the whole sub-continent, from the Himalayas to Ceylon.'

Roger smiled. ' I have no doubt of that, mon General. I agree too that, as was proved in Italy, Commanders of over sixty could have little hope when confronted with your new, swift and audacious methods of waging war. But, from what I have heard, the English now have a number of younger officers who show considerable promise. I became quite intimate with one such when I was in India. His name was Arthur Wellesley. Although only a Colonel, they thought so highly of him that he was given the Command last spring of an expedition to Manila and charged with ousting the Dutch from their East Indian possessions.'

^'1 had intelligence of that. But you raise a matter that will prove of immense advantage to us in our invasion. The commitments of the British in India and the West Indies compel them to keep all their best regiments and officers abroad, and in the latter theatre thousands of them are carried off each year by yellow fever. That leaves the island but poorly defended and by an Army of the old type similar to that of France before the Revolution. Young men of noble families buy their commissions in it, but are soldiers only in so far as the fine uniforms they wear. Often, for years at a stretch, I am told, they are allowed to be absent from their regiments; so they know nothing of the art of war.'

^' Besides,' put in Bourrienne,^' this officer of whom Breuc speaks is only a Colonel; so even if recalled he could not hope for the Command of more than a Brigade.'

^' True; true. But Breuc is right in his contention that they have certain officers on the way up who show promise. There was one who greatly distinguished himself at the taking of Calvi, when the English invaded Corsica. He was a Colonel John Moore, and he showed not only great dash and courage but also intelligence. Later, when the island was subdued, he was made Adjutant-General to the forces there. He then took considerable pains to become acquainted with the leading Corsican families and showed them much kindness, thereby lessening the hostility to the English garrison stationed in the island.'

Roger nodded. 'I recall hearing of that, because on learning that Colonel Moore had been fraternizing with the patriots the Viceroy, Sir Gilbert Elliot, became furious, and ordered him to leave the island within forty-eight hours. The Viceroy's action was much criticized; so it had no harmful effect on Moore's career. Shortly afterwards he was promoted to Brigadier and sent out to the West Indies, where he became Sir Ralph Abercrombie's right-hand man and again distinguished himself in numerous hot actions.'

^' W'here is he now? ' asked Bonaparte.

^' I have no idea. I heard no mention of him during my recent stay in England.'

^' No matter.' The General-in-Chief abruptly stood up. ^' Write a full report of all you saw and heard while there and give it to Bourrienne. You will, of course, accompany me when I leave in the morning.' Turning to Reveillon, he added, ^'1 shall now get some sleep.' Then, without excusing himself further, he nodded absently in reply to a chorus of ^' Good nights' and walked quickly from the room.

Reveillon led the others back into the Salon and a number of them crowded round Roger, pressing him for further particulars of the desperate time he had been through. But it was now getting on for seventeen hours since Tardieu had roused him to face one of the most gruelling days he had ever spent. Reaction had set in and only Bonaparte's electric presence at the supper had enabled Roger to keep going through the meal; so he begged to be released and went up to bed.

Next morning he was roused at four o'clock and by five they were on their way. It was typical of Bonaparte's furious urge to get anything he undertook completed swiftly that he would not allow his progress to be slowed down by the bad state of the roads. He travelled in a big carriage that had reinforced springs and was drawn by six strong horses. Two pairs of extra horses accompanied it, so that the team could be increased to ten when going up steep hills, and it was escorted by a Squadron of Hussars who were always on hand to hoist it out of ruts should it get stuck. As the weather continued fine, their progress was not impeded by deep mud or landslides.

Lannes, Bourrienne and the Polish aide-de-camp Sulkowsky travelled in the carriage with the General. Roger rode alongside it on a horse that had been provided for him and was thankful to escape the constant jolting of the vehicle, which must have been very wearing to its occupants. At first he wondered why they, too, did not ride; until he realized that Bonaparte, who never wasted a moment, was employing his time by dictating notes to Bourrienne about the state of the coast and that, despite the bumping, that hard-worked official was somehow managing to take them down.

Their first stop was Dunkirk, and there Roger asked Bourrienne for some of the back pay due to him. The Chef de Cabinet unlocked a brass-bound chest in the boot and gave him a small bag of gold coin together with a great bundle, of assignats. The latter were paper money issued by the Government some years previously on the security of the lands confiscated from the Church and nobility. In exchange for gold they had since dropped to a fraction of their face value, but shopkeepers were still compelled by law to accept them. Dividing the bundle into three, Roger arranged for them to be sent to the young Major at General Desmarets's headquarters with the request that they be passed on to the soldier whose fingers he had cut off with the spade and the two Coastguards whom he had injured, as some compensation for the wounds they had sustained while only doing their duty.

Bonaparte had sent Sulkowsky to the harbour-master with an order that he should collect any Captains of ships, fishermen and smugglers whom he could readily find and bring them to the local military headquarters. As soon as these worthies arrived the General fired a series of questions at them about the capacity of the wharves, the amount of shipping of all kinds based on Dunkirk, the effect of off-shore currents and so on. He then carried out a personal inspection of the port. Roger, meanwhile, took the opportunity to buy himself a hat and topcoat, also a razor, change of linen and a few other things.

Lannes had already been sent ahead to ride along the beach to Furnes, where they picked him up in mid-morning. They then drove on to Nieuport and, after Bonaparte had carried out a brief inspection, snatched a hurried meal there. By four o'clock they reached Ostend and in this larger port the procedure at Dunkirk in the morning was repeated.

For some years past the Belgian Netherlands had been absorbed into the French Republic; so they spent that night at the residence of the Military Commandant. But during the evening Roger managed to get a little time in which to carry out a highly private matter of his own.

Having secured pen, ink and paper, he took them with him when he went up to the bedroom he had been given to wash in before supper. On two of the sheets of paper he scrawled a semi-literate letter in French. Anyone reading it would have accepted it as a communication from some small distributor of smuggled goods to his opposite number in England. The greater part of it concerned current prices for French cognac and scent and for Brussels lace, and asked for large consignments of English cloth. But near the end he inserted a paragraph that read as follows :

/ hear that great quantities of jelly-fish are breeding on the French coast. The spring tides will, people say, carry them to England. You owning fishing smacks should warn your fellows of this, else they'll do great damage to the nets. Big shoals of them can likely be spotted in daylight, but not so at night, and especially in foggy weather.

He addressed an envelope for the letter to Mr. George Peabody at the Crown Inn, Dover. Then he put it in another envelope addressed to Citizen Cammaerts, Patron de VAuberge du Bon Voyage. He had to wait until after supper before he could slip away, but down by the docks he soon found a man who could direct him to the inn. It was one of the secret post-offices that had been established in all the principal ports along the French coast to enable English agents to have their reports smuggled over. Roger had never previously made use of this one but it was a part of his business to memorize them all.

As he was not yet in uniform he could go into the inn without fear of arousing unwelcome comment in connection with his clandestine business. Even so, he took advantage of the prevailing fashion to arrange his voluminous cravat so that it should hide the lower part of his face.

He would, if necessary, have left his letter with a potman but, having called for a drink, he felt very much happier on learning that the little, wizened-faced man behind the bar, with gold rings in his ears, was Citizen Cammaerts. After knocking back the tot of brandy he had ordered, he slipped the letter and a louis across to the landlord, who took them both, ripped open the outer envelope, glanced at the inner one and slipped it into his pocket with a nod but no word.

Roger had put a special mark on the envelope, so that when Mr. Peabody received it he would pay the bearer five guineas then without delay forward the letter to an address in Queen Anne's Gate. Mr. Pitt and Lord Grenville at the Foreign Office would receive copies of it very shortly afterwards and, from the paragraph about the jelly-fish, they would have no difficulty in deducing that a French invasion could be expected on a foggy night before the spring was out.

When Roger got back to the Commandant's house Bourrienne asked him where he had been, but he shrugged the question off by replying that he had drunk so much wine at supper that he had felt he must get a breath of fresh air. Then, very pleased at having got this urgent information safely away, he went up to bed.

Next day they drove further up the coast and crossed to the island of Walcheren. After Bonaparte had assessed its possibilities as an invasion base, they went on to Antwerp. There they had another quick midday meal, after which Bonaparte questioned a number of people and inspected the port. By nightfall they arrived in Brussels and early on the 16th set out on the long drive to Paris.

It had been a whirlwind tour. Bonaparte had left Paris on the 10th, so in seven days he had covered well over five hundred miles. He alone among the party appeared unaffected by the strain. Even the tough little Lannes was showing it, but when they drew up in the newly named Rue de la Victoire the pale-faced, frail-looking Corsican told the unfortunate Bourrienne to come into the house with him so that they could look through such correspondence as had arrived in his absence.

Roger took his leave and jogged on wearily to La Belle £toile, almost falling from his saddle outside the inn. By then it was past midnight so the place was in darkness, but persistent knocking brought the landlord, Maitre Blanchard, down to the door. He was swathed in a woollen robe and still wearing his cotton nightcap.

The worthy Norman believed Roger to be a Frenchman, but had known him to be an aristocrat and secretly a Royalist during those desperate times when he had passed himself off as a fervid revolutionary. But he had always kept Roger's secret, proved the .staunchest of friends and still had up in his attic a big trunk of clothes, varying from the tattered garments of a sans-culotte to the elegant attire of a young exquisite, that Roger had used as occasion required during the long periods in which he had made La Belle fitoile his home.

On recognizing Roger, Maitre Blanchard welcomed him with delight, roused a serving boy from a cubby-hole under the stairs to take his horse, and led him in. Seeing his exhausted state, he tactfully refrained from asking what had become of him during the past two years, and took him up to a comfortable bedroom. There he pressed Roger to let him bring him up a grog or hot posset, but Roger declared that he would sleep like a log without any aid to somnolence.

Flopping into bed he was almost instantly asleep, and he slept on well into the following morning. When he did become fully awake he rang for the chambermaid and told her to bring him a substantial breakfast. Hungry as a hunter, he ate it in bed, then proceeded slowly to wash and dress himself in becoming clothes from the chest that had been brought down from the attic. While doing so he groaned more than once, for he was terribly stiff from his long ride on the previous day and the insides of his thighs were almost raw.

It was midday before he made his way downstairs and encountered the landlord coming out of the coffee room. With a smiling bow to him, Maitre Blanchard addressed him in a low voice as ^' Monsieur le Chevalier' then said, ' Knowing one of your favourite dishes to be duck, my wife is about to braise one in the Normandy fashion for dinner. We should be greatly honoured if you would join us.'

Roger had enjoyed many a good meal in the Blanchards' private parlour, and he assented with the utmost readiness. He whiled away an hour scanning the latest issues of the Moniteur, then was summoned and went through to greet his motherly hostess.

Over the meal, which they washed down with two bottles of excellent Chambolle Musigny, Roger told them of the voyage he had made to India, of his return via Egypt and Venice and of his having been given a post on General Bonaparte's staff. To this simple couple India seemed as distant as another planet and they listened with rapt attention while he was describing its strangeness, colour and marvels. Then, when Maitre Blanchard produced a dust-encrusted bottle of his native Calvados, Roger—knowing that his host followed all political developments with shrewd interest and that his clients kept him well informed about what was going on—said:

^' But enough of myself. Tell me now how you have fared, and the latest gossip in this great city of Paris.'

^' Monsieur, we cannot complain,' replied Blanchard. ¹ In fact by last September things had become quite like old times and-'

^' Old times! ' interrupted his wife. ^' How can you say that when those who rule us flaunt their godlessness and lechery so shamelessly? ' Turning to Roger, she went on indignantly, 'Paris has become another Babylon, monsieur. The Christian faith is mocked at, the men have made money their god, and the women of all classes sell themselves; the richer ones for jewels, and the poorer ones for a good dinner or a few ribbons.'

^' That was already the case when I was last here,' Roger commented. ^' While one does not approve such a state of things, it is, to some extent, understandable. Having lived in fear for so long, when any display of rich living could lead to the guillotine and all forms of enjoyment were frowned on by the Committee of Public Safety, it is hardly surprising that when the Terror ended a wave of hysterical relief should sweep people into giving free rein to their baser passions.'

^' You misunderstood me, my love,' added her husband. ^' By ^'' old times " I meant that there was much more money about, men were beginning to address one another as "Monsieur" again, instead of " Citoyen and many people who had been in prison or had fled from the Terror were once more freely walking the streets of Paris.'

'The 18th Fructidor altered all that,' Madame Blanchard put in quickly.

Her husband nodded. ^' As I was about to say, we have since suffered another revolution and, but for the threat of the guillotine, we again suffer under a tyranny almost as bad as that of Robespierre.'

^' That was General Augereau's doing, was it not? ' Roger remarked.

^' Yes. He arrived here from Italy in the late summer. Covered with jewels and prancing about on his great charger, he rode round the city stirring up trouble wherever he went. By early September he had hatched a plot with Barras. On the 'th he led two thousand soldiers to the Legislative Assembly, arrested the officers of its guard and suborned their men. When the Deputies asked him by what right he dare break into their Chamber he waved his sabre in their faces and bellowed, ^'' By the law of the sword." He arrested some of them and dispersed the rest. By nightfall it was all over. Barras placarded the city with announcements that a Royalist plot had been discovered and that the revolution had been saved only by immediate action. Over two hundred Constitutionalist Deputies were permanently deprived of their seats. Carnot got away, but Barth£lemy refused to flee. He, General Pichegru and some dozen other leaders of the Moderates were condemned to transportation and shipped off to Cayenne.'

Madame Blanchard raised her eyes and hands in horror. ^' Monsieur, you cannot conceive that even the worst of men could treat others of their kind with such brutality. They were trundled across France all the way to Rochefort in open iron cages on wheels, half-starved, and at every stop that was made their guards allowed mobs of ruffians to pelt them with refuse. Even worse followed, for it has since been learned that their voyage to America lasted seven whole weeks. For all that time they lay battened down in the hold with only weevilly biscuits and brackish water to sustain them.'

^' Indeed, madame,' Roger agreed, with a sad shake of his head, ^' the ^'' dry " guillotine is far more to be feared than the ^'' wet" one Many of them, too, were men advanced in years who, as in the case of poor Barthelemy, had rendered valuable service to their country. It is disgraceful that they should have received such treatment.'

After a moment he turned to Blanchard and asked, 'Is it believed that there was a Royalist plot? '

^' No; not the ghost of one,' the landlord declared firmly. ^'1 doubt if there was a single Deputy who wanted a King back, and most of the Constitutionalists differed so widely from one another in their views of what ought to be done that no group would have been large enough to overthrow the Directory.'

^' Since they had in common the aims of securing a greater degree of tolerance and bringing about a peace, I find it surprising that sufficient of them did not combine to form a powerful party.'

^' That can be partly explained by the seating arrangements in the Chamber, initiated by the Thermidorians. With the object of preventing the formation of such formidable blocs as the " Mountain which might have opposed them, the Directors got a law passed that a separate chair and desk should be provided for each Deputy, and once a month they had to draw lots for where they were to sit. The result was that no two of them sat side by side for more than four weeks. Men of similar opinions could not get together and consult with one another during a session, so their opposition was unco-ordinated and haphazard.'

^' From what I am told, I gather the Jacobins again have complete control of the situation.'

^' Yes; and they've brought back all the old repressive measures. They have removed every magistrate and official in the Departments where the expelled Deputies were elected, and reinstated their own cronies. Between 10th Thermidor and 18th Fructidor over fifteen thousand names were struck from the lists of emigres, but there have since been very few. Hearing of the turn things had taken, thousands of other exiles returned, without waiting to be struck off the lists. They were publicly welcomed by their friends and no action was taken against them. Now they are in hiding and again in fear of their lives. Should they be denounced to one of these Jacobin courts I was speaking of they are certain to be shot, as the penalty for returning without a permit is death.'

'And the poor Fathers,' lamented Madame Blanchard. 'All over France they had come out of hiding and, although the churches remained closed to them, no objection was raised to their celebrating Mass. Everywhere people were crowding into rooms to hear them, and had begun publicly to observe Sundays again. But now, wherever they can be found, they are seized and killed. On Sundays, too, these abominable atheists compel everyone to work and the children to attend school, while on every tenth day shops must close and anyone who lifts a finger is liable to a heavy fine.'

Her husband nodded. ^' Yes, the persecution of the religious is as fierce as ever it was. And, of course, that has set La Vendee aflame once more. General Hoche had done a fine thing there. They sent him to exterminate the Breton priests and their followers. But he was a clever man as well as a brave one. After defeating the Chouans he met their leaders and agreed to grant them a degree of religious tolerance. The country was pacified in no time so, instead of a great Army being tied up there burning villages and massacring indiscriminately men, women and children, he was able to send the greater part of his troops to reinforce our Armies abroad under General. Bonaparte and General Moreau.'

^'1 heard tell of Hoche's wise conduct while I was in Italy,' Roger said. ^' It was a tragedy that he should have been carried off by consumption last September. And doubly so for a man like him, for one may be certain he would have been far happier had he died in action with his troops, even if it had been when their transports were caught and sunk by Admiral Duncan at the battle of Camperdown.'

^' His death is a great loss; but I know one man who has no cause to regret it,' remarked the landlord shrewdly, ^' and that's General Bonaparte.'

Roger smiled. ^' You are right. Hoche was the only General with the ability, charm and strength of character to have become his rival. Now the ^''Little Corporal's" place as first soldier in the Armies of France cannot be disputed.'

For an hour or so longer they continued to talk, then Roger thanked his good friends for the excellent meal and went out to pay his respects to his master.

The house occupied by Bonaparte in the Rue de la Victoire had been given by Barras to Josephine—whom most people believed to have been his mistress—before her marriage. A soldier now stood on guard between two stone lions flanking a long passage that led from the street. He accompanied Roger along to the small, two-storeyed villa at its end where, having sent in his name, Roger was allowed to enter. A servant took him through to the back of the house and into a drawing room with french windows looking on to a little garden.

Bonaparte was standing in a corner, talking animatedly in his harsh voice with its strong Italian accent to Pleville Le Pelay, the Minister of Marine. He acknowledged Roger's entrance with only a nod. But Josephine was seated by the fireplace, with the son and daughter she had had by- her ^' first' husband, the Vicomte de Beauharnais, and all three of them greeted Roger with obvious pleasure.

Josephine was then in her thirty-fifth year and was a dark, well-preserved beauty. Her well-rounded form was supple, her manner languorous and she gave the impression that if a man took her in his arms she would give a sigh and melt in his embrace. Her reputation was far from spotless, but no worse than the majority of the women who made up the high society of the post-revolutionary era, and she was the soul of kindness. Her only physical shortcoming was that she had bad teeth.

Roger was one of the very few people who knew that her marriage to Beauharnais had been bigamous, as when a very young girl in Martinique passion had led her into a secret marriage with a youth named William de Kay. Just before she married Bonaparte, Roger had succeeded in saving her from the public exposure of her youthful folly and she had more than repaid the debt sixteen months later by saving his life; so they were firm friends.

The boy, Eugene, was now close on seventeen: a high-spirited and charming lad. In response to his desperate pleading, Bonaparte had taken him to Italy as his junior aide-de-camp; so, in his fine uniform, he now considered himself very much a war-hardened soldier. But he had not forgotten that it was Roger who had given him his first brace of pistols, or the friendship they had developed when they had met again in Italy. The girl, Hor-tense, was younger by a year or so. She was no great beauty, but had a pair of fine blue eyes and a mass of fuzzy, fair hair.

Someone must have told Josephine that Roger had narrowly escaped being shot as a spy, as she at once made him sit down and tell them about his terrible adventure. When he had finished he asked her about herself, upon which she began loudly to lament her husband's conduct.

^' His behaviour is absurd,' she declared. ^' When he first returned to Paris he was given a tremendous reception and quite graciously accepted the homage of the crowds; but since then he has gone like a snail into its shell. He refuses all invitations and declines to entertain here. I can get him to the Opera, because he enjoys that, but when the audience learn that he is in the house and call for him for minutes on end he flatly refuses to give them the pleasure of even seeing him. He sits through the whole performance in the back of the box, while Bourrienne, Junot or some other friend he takes with him is made to sit in front with me, so that he can pretend not to be there.'

Knowing Josephine's love of excitement and parties, Roger could well understand how disappointed she must feel at being deprived of a wife's right to share the glory of the national hero, particularly as before her husband's return she had had a wonderful time, being hailed everywhere she went as ^' Our Lady of

VictoriesBut Bonaparte had caught what she said and, striding over, reproved her:

^' Madame, you are talking foolishly. There is nothing so fickle as the applause of the mob. Did I go here, there and everywhere I would be fawned on for a fortnight and then become just one more General. If I stood up at the front of the box each time we go to the Opera I would be wildly cheered once or twice, but on the fourth or fifth occasion the audience would not even turn their heads to look at me. No, I mean to keep the place that I have won in the imagination of the people by my victories. That is why I am anxious to get away from Paris as soon as possible.'

Turning to Roger he added, ' For the moment, Breuc, I have no matters on which I can employ you. Leave your address in the hall so that you can be sent for if required. Should you not hear from me, report here again a week from today. By then I expect to have settled plans for the future. You may go now when you wish.'

As Roger's call had already lasted about half an hour he stayed only for a few minutes longer, talking to Josephine and her children, then he took his leave.

That evening he went to the Palais du Luxembourg, in which each of the Directors occupied a handsome suite of apartments. Mounting the marble staircase to the long, lofty gallery that had been allotted to Barras as his ante-room, he found it packed with people. They were assembled there to ask favours or simply, by showing themselves as his courtiers, to retain the great man's goodwill. Among them he found a score of acquaintances and soon learned that the story of his misadventures were already the talk of Paris.

Nothing could have pleased him better, for the more widely it was believed that he had an English cousin who resembled him, and for whom a British seaman had mistaken him, the stronger his position became.

In due course the great double doors at the end of the gallery were thrown open and handsome, flamboyant ^'King Paul' emerged through them. The crowd divided, making a lane down which he slowly progressed, receiving petitions which he passed to a secretary who followed him and bestowing smiles of greeting on his friends.

On coming opposite Roger he paused and said with a smile, ^'1 hear that you have been in even greater danger than when you charged that battery of cannon at Toulon. You must join us for supper and tell us about it.'

When he had made his way back up the lane two score or more of people, with Roger among them, whom he had invited followed him into the spacious supper room. Long tables were set along three of the walls, weighed down with every expensive food and extravagant confection that a great chef could devise. There was a row of silver wine-coolers, each holding half a dozen quarts of Champagne, and, for those who preferred them, there were Burgundy, Claret, Anjou, Tourraine, Sauternes, Florence wine, Alicanti, Rhenish and Moselle.

For the better part of three hours the company ate, drank and made merry, until the tables were a shambles, their clothes were slopped with spilt wine and the women, whose fashion in dress had progressed from decolletee to little more than a gold-trimmed tunic slit up one side to the hip, were openly allowing the men to take the freest liberties with them.

Roger enjoyed it up to the point when many of the women became maudlin. Nearly all were attractive and some were really beautiful. During the course of the evening two out of three who had aroused his interest made it clear that they were quite prepared to leave the party for anywhere he chose to take them. But the memory of the nights he had spent with the incomparable Georgina were still too fresh in his mind for him to spoil them wilfully by a casual night of lechery with one of these young women, who were highly desirable but anybody's property; so in the early hours of the morning he took a coach back to La Belle iLtoile on his own.

Next day he went to the best tailor in Paris and ordered new uniforms, as he had had to leave his others at his little chateau in the south of France. The tailor was used to obliging officers who had received orders to leave at short notice for one of the battle-fronts, and promised to have Roger's uniforms finished in three days.

During the week before he was to report to Bonaparte again he visited all his old haunts, and in the evenings attended the salons of Mesdames Tallien, de Chateau-Renaul, de Stael and de Recamier. They were crowded with emigres who had received permission to return from exile, ex-terrorists who had survived the Thermidorian purge, foreign diplomats, Army contractors who had made fortunes and lovely women who had made a name for themselves by their looks and immorality.

By this time they had recovered from the shock of Fructidor and spoke with cynical amusement of those who had been destroyed by it through not having been clever enough to ensure themselves of the protection of Barras and his cronies. No secret was made of the fact that such protection could be bought for a round sum down, and the bribes that had been paid to Ministers and officials for various services were talked of openly. In this connection the name of Talleyrand was mentioned as frequently as that of Barras. It was said that the Foreign Minister had blackmailed the ambassadors of several countries to the tune of over a million francs and demanded huge sums from them before he would consent to clauses which would benefit their countries being embodied in trade agreements.

On February 23rd Roger, now resplendent in one of his new uniforms, again repaired to the house in the Rue de la Victoire. After sending in his name he was kept waiting for some time, then ushered into a small room which his master used as an office. Bonaparte was seated at a table strewn with papers, with Bourrienne beside him. Looking up he said:

'I am glad you have come, Breuc, because we shall all be active again shortly. I have today sent in my report to the Directors. In it I have said that a descent on England is not practical for the present. Before that can be accomplished safely our Navy must be built up to a strength which would ensure its protecting my flotillas from the British Fleet, and hundreds of barges will have to be assembled in the estuaries along our north coast to carry our men across.

.^' Such preparations would require many months. With the ending of spring there will be little fog in the Channel and a foggy night would best favour our chances of landing without interference on the English coast. All this I knew when I set out on my recent tour of inspection, and I undertook it only as a blind. It is of the first importance that the English should continue to believe that within a few months an invasion will be launched against them. They will then retain such troops as they have on their south coast and, perhaps, even augment them. In any case, they will not send them elsewhere to some place where they might be used against us.

' It is important, too, that our own people continue to believe this. Your own arrival at Calais was most opportune, since it enabled me to launch my deception plan among General Riveillon's officers in a most natural manner. And it is certain that they will talk. All that I am telling you now is, therefore, of the highest secrecy.

' With regard to the future, I am determined to leave Paris shortly in order to win fresh glory for France. I have told the Directors that they must either give me the Army of the Rhine and consent to my invading the Germanic States with it, or allow me to take an Army to Egypt and so put an end to England's invaluable trade with the Levant. The choice, theoretically, is theirs. But you are aware of my inclinations and you may count on my making these fellows let me have my way.

^' Such an expedition will need detailed planning and preparations of the greatest magnitude. For this I must rely exclusively on my Staff, since the strictest secrecy must be maintained. So get what sleep you may, while you can. From now on you will report to me each morning at eight o'clock. You may go.'

Roger clicked to attention, wheeled about and left the room. His head was in a whirl. Bonaparte had fooled him as well as Reveillon's officers, and he had sent false information to his real master, Mr. Pitt. That must be rectified as soon as possible and news of the Corsican's true intentions sent across. He was now also threatened with being carted off to Egypt and, perhaps, becoming involved in some wild adventure to conquer half Asia, which might prevent his returning to England for years. But, somehow, he would find a means of wriggling out of such a crazy business, even if it meant quarrelling with Bonaparte.

As he walked down the passage to the street, his mind still working overtime on this new situation, he suddenly noticed a black-clad figure advancing towards him. It was that of a man in the prime of life, who adhered to the pre-Revolution fashion of wearing his hair powdered. He was carrying a malacca cane and walked with a slight limp. Next moment, Roger recognized his old friend the ex-Bishop M. de Talleyrand-Perigord.

Halting, the Foreign Minister smiled at him and said, ^' Breuc, my dear fellow. How delightful to see you. I heard that you were back. Why have you not called upon me? '

Roger had thought several times of doing so, but a subconscious nervousness about his ability to establish a satisfactory new relationship with de Talleyrand had caused him to postpone this delicate interview. With a smile, he said:

^'1 had meant to call and offer my congratulations on your return to France, and your appointment as Foreign Minister. But, for the few days I have been in Paris, I have been prodigious busy, getting myself fitted with new clothes and a score of other tiresome matters.'

^' New clothes,' de .Talleyrand murmured, putting his quizzing glass to his eye and lazily surveying Roger from head to toe. ^' Your omission to look in on an old friend was not, perchance, on account of this gorgeous new plumage, I suppose. But I must say I find it passing strange to come upon an Englishman attired in the uniform of a French Colonel.'

When Greek Meets Greek

Charles-Maurice de Talleyrand-Perigord had just passed his forty-eighth birthday. His face was chubby and inclined to be rosy; his mouth was beautifully modelled but had a slightly ironic twist; his nose was retrousse, and his eyes, under heavy lids fringed with thick lashes, were large and piercing. He was of medium height, had a slim figure and, despite his limp, moved with grace. His dress was always faultless, no man had more charming manners and he was an aristocrat to his fingertips.

His limp was due to his nurse having dropped him at the age of four and the subsequent neglect of the injury to his foot, which could have been corrected with proper care. The resulting deformity had repercussions which altered his whole life. As he could not go into the Army his parents dispossessed him of his rights, although he was their eldest son, and, early in his 'teens, put him into the Church.

He bitterly resented this and soon became the most irreligious priest in an age celebrated for its cynicism and immorality. He rarely wore clerical garments, even when created Bishop of Autun, but dressed in silks and satins with exquisite taste, and exercised his extraordinary charm in seducing a long series of beautiful young women at the Court of Versailles. At sixteen he had as his first mistress a charming little actress named Dorothy Dorinville. At seventy he was still to have a mistress and another Dorothy, who was his own niece—the Duchess de Dino.

From the first calling together of the Three Estates in 1789, he had, as a representative of the Clergy, at once made his mark— but in another role. By his able brain and gifts as a speaker, he had emerged as one of the leaders of the Liberal nobility. He was not an anti-Monarchist, but he saw the urgent necessity for sweeping reforms which had been long overdue.

As the Revolution progressed he had held many important offices; and when the breakaway from Rome was formally executed he became the first Bishop in the new, reformed National Church of France. In January 1792 he had been sent on a diplomatic mission to London. Having always held the opinion that an alliance between France and Britain was essential to the lasting prosperity of both countries he had, while there, strongly pressed for it, but without success. Later in that year, after his return to Paris, the Commissioners of the Convention had gone through the King's papers that had been seized during the sack of the Tuileries and had found two letters written by him, privately advising the King to adopt a policy contrary to the interests of the revolutionaries.

In consequence he had been denounced as an 'Enemy of the People', and had escaped from Paris only just in time to save his life. In London, where he returned, he was ostracized by the majority of the French emigres, and by a large section of the British aristocracy, because of the part he had played in the Liberal Revolution. So he had moved on to the more sympathetic atmosphere of the newly-created United States.

However, he still had many powerful friends and acquaintances in France who respected his abilities and, after the fall of Robespierre, they began to work for his return. Among these friends was one of his many mistresses, the clever intriguer Madame de Stael. She had persuaded Barras to allow him to return, and in the previous July she had secured for him the post of Foreign Minister.

Confronted by this shrewd and again-powerful man, who knew the truth about him, Roger did not lose his nerve. To have shown the least trace of apprehension would have given away the fact that he had something to hide. With a laugh, he gaily paraphrased Shakespeare:

'The world is but a stage and men play many parts upon it. I am glad you find my uniform becoming. And, if I may say so, it suits me better than yours did when you were a Bishop.'

Talleyrand raised an eyebrow. ' Indeed! I had no idea you were a church-goer, and so ever saw me in it. May I suggest, though, that your presence here dressed as a French officer requires some explanation? '

^' It is quite simple,' Roger shrugged. ^' As you must be aware, I have spent a great part of my manhood in France, and have become so enamoured of this country that I now regard myself as a Frenchman. I have been wounded more than once in the service of France and my title to this uniform is beyond dispute. When I was in Italy no less a person than the General Bonaparte did me the honour to make me one of his aides-de-camp.'

^' How prodigious interesting.' Talleyracd gave a slight bow. 'Allow me to congratulate you, my dear fellow, on this signal distinction. I cannot, alas, linger to converse longer with you now, as the General is expecting me. But we must foregather to discuss old times: over breakfast, perhaps, when our enjoyment of one another's company will not be diverted by the presence of others. Let me see. Friday, I think, is the first day I have free. May I have the pleasure of receiving you at nine o'clock? '

^' You are most kind,' Roger smiled. ^' There is nothing I should enjoy more.'

Exchanging another bow, they parted and Roger went on his way. The brief conversation had gone as well as he could have expected. To all appearances Talleyrand had accepted his explanation, but all the same it was a most delicate situation and he knew that, on the coming Friday, he would have all his work cut out to convince the astute statesman that he had really abandoned for good all his ties with England.

Yet it was the line he had already decided to take when they did meet, as it was inevitable that they would, and the only line possible.

It was nearly twelve years since, when he had been assistant secretary to the Marquis de Rochambeau, he had first met Talleyrand. An occasion had arisen when the Marquis had an urgent need to have a long, confidential document copied overnight, and the work was to be done at Talleyrand's house out at Passy. Talleyrand, Roger and the Marquis's senior secretary, the Abb6 d'Heury, had set off together in a coach for Passy, but when near-ing their destination the coach had been held up by footpads. Talleyrand had defied the brigands and an affray had ensued. D'Heury had been shot dead—which had led to Roger's promotion—and a second ball had wounded Roger in the head, rendering him unconscious. When he came to, in bed in Talleyrand's house, he learned that during his delirium he had been raving in English. Since at that time he had been passing himself off as a

Frenchman only as a matter of convenience, he had freely admitted his real nationality and had given Talleyrand full particulars of himself. Roger felt certain that he would not have forgotten them, so it would have been futile for him to deny now that he was the son of Admiral Sir Christopher Brook.

However, a strong bond of friendship had long since developed between them. It was Roger who had tricked Danton into giving him the passport which Jiad enabled Talleyrand to escape from Paris when to remain would have cost him his life; so Roger had no fear whatever that his old friend would regard him as an enemy, let alone have him arrested.

After a few minutes his mind turned to the volte-face in plans that Bonaparte had sprung upon him that morning. The news that there was to be no invasion of England that year, but that instead the conqueror of Italy was pressing the Directory to let him follow in the path of Alexander the Great, must be sent without delay to Mr. Pitt.

Returning to La Belle Iitoile, he wrote a long despatch and put it into a double envelope. He then had his midday meal and afterwards went out to send off his letter. He was always reluctant to use secret post-offices because, although they were usually in back streets unlikely to be frequented by the sort of people he knew, some risk that he might be recognized or followed from the post-office by the man who ran it, should he have turned double traitor, was unavoidable. In the past he had had to use them rarely, as during the Revolution he had been able to send his despatches by members of Sir Percy Blakeney's League of the Scarlet Pimpernel, and on the last two occasions he had been in Paris he had been employed on special missions which did not call for him to send back regular reports. But in the present circumstances he had no option.

In a mental index he carried three addresses. One was an old one that he had used before, and two were new ones that he had been given when last in London. But it proved his unlucky day, for the afternoon brought him only frustration. Calling first at the old address, he learned that the forwarding agent there had died shortly before Christmas. At the next address he was told that the man he wanted had left that morning to visit relatives in the country and was not expected back until the end of the week. At the third address a slatternly woman told him that her husband had been carried off by the police a fortnight before.

Had his news been of great urgency and importance, he would seriously have considered sending a message to Bonaparte by Maitre Blanchard saying that he had met with an accident which would keep him in bed for a few days. He would then have used the time to ride all-out to Dieppe and back, with the certainty that he would be able to get his despatch off by a smuggler there. But a few days' delay could make no material difference to the value of his news; so he resigned himself to awaiting the return of the man who had gone to the country.

Friday was three days away and, although he reported to Bonaparte each morning, the General-in-Chief still had no use for him. He filled in the time much as he had done during the previous week: riding in the mornings, putting in an hour or two in a fencing school or a pistol gallery in the afternoons and attending the salons in the evenings.

The denizens of the latter were now largely young ' lncroy-ables', with sickle-moon hats, enormous cravats on either side of which their hair dangled in ' dog-ears' and trousers so tight that they could not sit down without risk of splitting them. Their female opposite numbers had their hair piled high and banded, a la Grecque, or cut short a la Romaine and, having given up both corsets and underclothes, wore skin-tight dresses so revealing as to be near indecent.

Among these bizarre creatures, with their affected voices and languid manner, Roger sought out the older, more serious people. From them he built up the store of knowledge he was acquiring about trends in Government policy and learned the latest rumours. Among those current was one to the effect that the Swiss had risen en masse against a body of French troops under General Menard, whom Republicans in Lausanne had asked should be sent to protect them from oppression. Another rumour was that a French Army had entered Rome.

This last news filled everyone with delight, as the French had a score to settle with the Papacy. Bonaparte had overrun a great part of the Papal States and incorporated them in his Cisalpine Republic, but he had refrained from sending his troops into the Eternal City. His orders from the atheist Directory had been to dethrone the Pope and abolish the Papacy. However, he was well aware that the greater part of the French people were still Christian at heart and had been far too shrewd to make himself responsible for a sacrilege which they would have held against him for as long as he lived. Instead he had menaced the Pope into paying a huge indemnity, blackmailed him into handing over the finest art treasures in the Vatican and had his own eldest brother, Joseph, appointed Ambassador to the Holy See.

Joseph Bonaparte was a mild man, an able administrator, and one who believed in conciliation. As the representative of the new France that had arisen from the ashes of an ancient absolute Monarchy, it was natural that the Republican Party in Rome should urge him to approve of and support them in violent measures against what they termed ' their tyrants \ But he steadfastly refused to do so.

The malcontents had, therefore, decided to provoke a collision with the object of its resulting in French intervention. On December 27th they staged a great demonstration in the Via Medici and were dispersed by the cavalry of the Papal Guard. Next day a similar scene took place outside the French Embassy. General Duphot, a young officer who had served with great distinction under Bonaparte in the north, ran out into the courtyard of the Embassy waving a drawn sword. It was said that he ran out to make peace; but more probably it was to lead the insurgents, and he was shot dead by the Papalini. Joseph Bonaparte had seen no alternative but to demand his passports, after what was regarded as the assassination of his military adviser, and the arrogance of the French had by then reached such a pitch that nothing short of the occupation of Rome would satisfy them for Duphot's untimely death.

On leaving Italy, Bonaparte had nominated his Chief-of-Staff, General Berthier, as Commander of the French Army occupying the Cisalpine Republic, and Berthier had been ordered to march his Army south for the chastisement of the Eternal City. His progress had been rapid and the news was circulating that he had entered Rome on February 13th without meeting opposition.

On the Friday morning, after reporting to his General, Roger arrived promptly at nine o'clock at the fine mansion in the Rue du Bac, now occupied by the Minister of Foreign Affairs. Talleyrand received him like a long-lost brother and ushered him into a small, private dining room, where a breakfast in keeping with wealthy households in that age was served. There was a wide choice of hot dishes, with cold game, Westphalian ham and hothouse fruit to follow. While they ate, a sommelier, wearing his silver chain of office, kept their glasses filled with a Chateau Latour that had lain for twenty years in a bin.

As soon as they were seated Talleyrand asked for an account of Roger's narrow escape from execution. When it had been given him he murmured, " I find this exceedingly diverting, in view of the fact that the magistrates in Boulogne were entirely right in supposing you to be—well, you will understand what I mean.'

^' On the contrary,' Roger replied quickly, ^' they were grossly wrong in their assumption of both my nationality and my intent.'

^' You imply that you have taken out naturalization papers. How wise of you. When did you do that? '

^'1 have not done so. Such a step would result in endless fuss. Meanwhile, I would probably be deprived of the right to serve the country of my adoption.'

^' That, from what I have learned in the past few days, would be a grievous loss. General Bonaparte thinks very highly of you.'

^'1 am most gratified to hear it. I have the greatest admiration for his talents and am devoted to him.'

^' Yes, he has an amazing capacity for inspiring devotion,' Talleyrand agreed. ^' Shortly after I took office he sent Monge— you remember Monge, the scientist and the last Minister of the Navy under our late King—back from Italy with Berthier, to report on his intentions with regard to the future of northern Italy. I was immensely impressed by the way in which they spoke of him. After talking with them I came to the conclusion that here at last was the man France needed to rid us of these incompetent rogues who now govern the country and to make her once again respected among the nations. I then wrote to him, offering him my friendship and my support in any measures he might propose for the betterment of our affairs.'

^'1 know,' smiled Roger. ^'1 read your letter. I was much amused by the flattery you used to tickle his vanity and win him as your ally. I even recall your most telling phrase: ^'' In our negotiations the very name of Bonaparte is a help that should smooth over all our difficulties.'"

For the fraction of a second Talleyrand, arch-diplomatist though he was, disclosed that he was taken aback. ^' You . . . saw my letter? Pray, how did that come about? '

^' It so happens,' Roger replied lightly, ^' that I am not only accounted a passable swordsman—an attribute that I share with the majority of Bonaparte's other Staff officers—but I am also capable of drafting a lucid despatch, or making a reliable precis of a long report. Most of these bravos would rather face charging cavalry than undertake such work; so Bonaparte employed me while at Montebello as an assistant to Bourrienne.'

Talleyrand slowly drank a little of the superb claret, then he murmured, 'Then you are privy to all our secrets? '

'Certainly, my dear Minister, and I have deserved this confidence. Moreoer, as we have long been allies with no secrets from one another, I will let you into a confidence that I would disclose to no one else. Bonaparte never had any intention of making a descent on England this year, and he is set on leading an Army to win glory in the East.'

It was Talleyrand's turn to smile. ' I am already aware of that, and gather it has long been his ambition. In fact, I have done my best to smooth his path to its accomplishment. As far back as July I addressed a memorandum to the Institute, pointing out France's need for colonies and urging that, since we had lost nearly all our possessions in the West Indies to the British, we should now turn our eyes east and make a bid for a great part of the decaying Ottoman Empire. I have since made two confidential reports to the Directors, one on January 28th and another as recently as February 15th in which I have pointed to Egypt as the vulnerable spot because, although they are technically subject to the Sultan, the Mameluke Beys who rule there flout his authority and so might be subdued by France with the Sultan's connivance.'

Roger shook his head. 'To me it sounds a crazy project. Bonaparte might well find himself cut off there, and from lack of supplies have his whole Army founder in the desert sands, as happened with Cambyrer the Persian. As far as I personally am concerned, I'll have no part in it. Should he persuade the Directors to agree to his plan, I shall feign sickness or resort to some other ruse to evade having to accompany him.'

' You said but now that you were devoted to him.'

'Indeed, I am. But not to the point of risking dying of thirst without rendering him any useful service. A year ago I was in Egypt, also in India. That is a major reason for Bonaparte's regard for me. At Montebello, having no campaign to direct, and being bewitched by these countries, he made me give him descriptions of them that lasted for hours. But, having been to Egypt and seen something of its deserts, I've no mind to die in one of them.'

^' Why then did you further excite his imagination concerning these countries, as you obviously must have done to hold his attention for so long, rather than leave him to pursue the obvious course—a descent on England? '

^' Because anything would be preferable to that,' Roger replied boldly. ' The chances of getting an Army ashore with its artillery without interference by the British Navy would be negligible. But, that apart, a direct attack upon their homeland would antagonize the English to such a degree that there could never be any reconciliation in our lifetime. And you know as well as I do that nothing short of a peace between France and Britain can bring about a permanent settlement of the upheavals that have disrupted the Continent these past eight years.'

^' You are right in that,' Talleyrand agreed,^' and it has ever been my ambition to bring the two nations to a friendly understanding. But you are wrong in regarding Egypt as a death-trap and supposing that its conquest would not greatly benefit France, as well as gild Bonaparte's laurels. Once there I am confident that he would manage to establish himself; and to seize Egypt for France is no new idea. Over a hundred years ago Libniz proposed it to Louis XIV. In Louis XV's time the Due de Choiseul actually drew up a plan for the sending of an expedition and, only a few years before the Revolution, it was revived by Saint-Priest, who was then our Ambassador in Constantinople. Talking of which, I will let you into a little secret. I have promised Bonaparte to get myself appointed Ambassador to the Porte, with the object of persuading the Sultan to agree to France replacing the Mamelukes in Egypt.'

'You really believe, then, that Bonaparte could succeed in maintaining himself there? '

For a moment Talleyrand was silent, then he said thoughtfully, 'Provided the English do not become apprised of our plan and send a Fleet into the Mediterranean, I do not see why he should not. And if he does the project should pay us immense dividends. Unlike France, whose main source of wealth lies in her agriculture, that of Britain is derived from commerce. If we held Malta and both ends of the Mediterranean we could ruin her great trade with the Levant. Moreover, consider Egypt's geographical position. She is readily accessible from Europe and is a bridgehead into both Asia and Africa. As a base for further operations, followed by a great increase in our trade with the East, she is, therefore, invaluable. Expeditions mounted there could sweep north through Syria and overrun the huge territories of the decadent Ottoman Empire, or be despatched against India with equal ease. One can hardly put a limit to what Bonaparte may achieve if the Directory let him have his way.'

'Do you think they will? '

'You may count it as certain. They are terrified of him, and would consent to anything to be rid of him.'

'They really fear, then, that he may stage a coup d'etat and throw them out? '

' I doubt if he yet feels strong enough to attempt it. He would be content, for the moment at least, if he were made a Director. However, there is a law stipulating that no Director shall be less than forty years of age, and he is not yet twenty-nine. He is pressing for the law to be altered, but it is most unlikely they would agree to that. To have him among them would mean that they would become no more than his lackeys.'

For a moment Talleyrand paused, then he continued, 'However, if he survives his Egyptian venture I have little doubt the day will come when he will sweep them away. His ambition is unbounded. At our first meeting he said to me, "You are a nephew of the Archbishop of Cambrai, who is now with Louis XVIII at Mitau." Note, he referred to the royal exile not by the only title Republican France accords him—the Comte de Lille— but as " King ". Then he went on, " I also have an uncle who is an Archdeacon in Corsica. He brought me up. In Corsica, you know, an Archdeacon is the same as a Bishop in France." I was secretly a little amused by his anxiety to show that he also was a gentleman. But the way he spoke gave me furiously to think. It struck me that within a year or two he may well be talking of "we nobles " and that perhaps a time might even come when he will be referring to Louis XVI as " my poor uncle ".'

Roger laughed. ' Oh, come! That is going a little far.'

' Well, we shall see,' smiled the diplomat. ' In the meantime there is another reason why the Directors must get him out of France. The war with Austria is over, and they are left with an enormous Army on their hands. They dare not disband even a half of the two hundred and fifty thousand men now under arms

and allow them to return to France without pay or employment.'

^'1 agree,' Roger nodded. ^' To do so would be to invite anarchy and another revolution more bloody than the first.'

^' Then, since they cannot be sent against England, they must be employed elsewhere. Even as things are, the Government is at its wits' end where to find the money with which to continue to pay them.'

^' What, after receiving all the hundreds of millions that Bonaparte sent to the Directory from Italy? '

^' Yes. France is bankrupt. That is why General Menard has been sent into Switzerland. A Republican Party hardly exists there. Those petitions asking for our protection are a farce and carry only a few score names. But the Swiss are a wealthy people. Incidents must be provoked, so that we have an excuse to intervene, and, having presented a bill for restoring order, loot the rich treasuries of the Cantons. Thus we shall get the millions to pay our troops.'

Roger sighed. ^' What a disgraceful and revolting business! But where have all the millions gone that were looted from Italy? '

^' No doubt you have been to one of Barras's receptions at the Luxembourg. They take place every night. Scores of other Government officials have poured the money away to only a slightly less degree. Then there are the Army contractors. They are like a swarm of locusts and the whole administration leaks gold like one vast sieve.'

With a little smile, Talleyrand went on, ^' In this I am happy to think that my own hands are clean. Immediately I was appointed Foreign Minister I determined to make my fortune out of the post, because to live well is the breath of life to me. And I'm doing none too badly. But at no cost to France. I take only foreign money, for greasing the wheels in our negotiations with foreign Powei's. That is a perquisite which Foreign Ministers in every country have always enjoyed.'

For a moment they were silent, then Talleyrand said casually, ^' But about yourself, my dear fellow. How long is it since you decided to become a Frenchman? '

Roger knew that the critical moment had come, but he answered with equal casualness. ^' Quite recently. Last autumn, in fact. You will recall that when first we met I told you of how I had run away from home to France, rather than enter the Navy as my father wished. For that he has never forgiven me. In consequence, I have neither patronage nor fortune in England. In '9' I decided to try my luck in the West Indies, as my cousin had recently been made Governor of Martinique. But we had quarrelled when young, and he still held it against me; so I returned to England. Then in '96 I sailed to India, having heard that fortunes could be made there swiftly. Unfortunately, I am not suited to trade and succeeded only in getting myself into debt.'

Talleyrand smiled. ^' In that we are birds of a feather. I attempted to repair my "fortune while in America by dabbling in commerce, and I had no luck. But please continue.'

'Finding myself at the end of my tether, I saw no point in remaining in a country rendered uncongenial by intense heat and poisonous reptiles. So I got together what money I could and returned to Europe by way of Egypt. In Venice I again met Madame Bonaparte, who was already a good friend of mine, and she took me to the General's headquarters at Montebello. I served with him at the siege of Toulon, and was also with him on 13th Vendemiaire. We had also, on numerous occasions, discussed matters of strategy and, evidently feeling that I could be useful to him, he offered me a post as one of his aides-de-camp. It was then that, seeing no possible future for myself in England, I decided to cut myself off for good from the country of my birth and follow the path of fortune that had been opened to me in France.'

^' Your decision was very understandable,' Talleyrand said. ^' Yet I seem to recall that, when I was on a diplomatic mission in London in '92, you came to me and I briefed you before you proceeded to France as a secret agent for Mr. Pitt.'

^' True,' Roger agreed. ^' Yet even then I was acting not against France, but only against the terrorists who were deluging the country in blood. And you gave me your help willingly.'

'Indeed, yes; because our interests were then identical. But what guarantee can you give me that you are not still acting as an agent for Mr. Pitt? '

^' None,' Roger laughed. ^' But surely if the Bastille still existed you would not clap me into it? '

^' The Temple would serve equally well,' Talleyrand replied smoothly, 'and there you would have the company of a most adventurous fellow: one quite after your own heart. I refer to a Captain Sidney Smith. Although an officer of the British Navy, I am told that he fought as a volunteer with the Swedes in their war against Russia. He also acted as a spy when the British threatened war against the Emperor of Morocco and, disguised as an Arab, made a reconnaissance of that country. He can pass as a Frenchman, too, as he lived for two years in France before the Revolution. But a year or so ago he let his zest for adventure tempt him once too often. In an entirely private venture, of which his Admiralty knew nothing, he attempted to land a party, with the object of blowing up our docks at Le Havre. He was captured and has since remained a prisoner. I could arrange for you to be allowed to see one another, and I am sure you would find him a most entertaining companion.'

^' But surely-' began Roger with a startled look.

With a laugh, Talleyrand raised his hand and cut him short. ^' No, no, my dear fellow, I was but joking. I would not even dream of treating you so scurvily. I owe to you not only the preservation of my little house at Passy, with all its treasures, from despoliation during the dark days of the Terror, but also my life. It would be an ill return to have you locked up behind stone walls.'

Roger breathed again as the quiet, cultured voice went on,^' Yet, now that I am an official of the French Government, I cannot altogether ignore what I know of your past. I must at least request from you your word as a gentleman that, while you remain in France, you will not give way to any impulse you may feel to communicate in any way with your English relatives or any other British person.'

Had Roger hesitated, even for an instant, it would have disclosed to the agile mind that was seeking to probe his that he had lied when declaring that henceforth he intended to give his whole allegiance to France. So he replied at once:

^'1 give it willingly.'

^'1 thank you.' Talleyrand gave a little bow. ^' And now there is just one other point. I must request you to change your mind and accompany General Bonaparte to Egypt.'

The Liberators

To Talleyrand's first demand, couched though it was as a polite request, Roger had had no option but to accede at once; but this was another matter. For the past few days he had been dwelling on his future with most pleasurable feelings. Once Bonaparte had set sail for Egypt he would no longer constitute a menace either to the Directory or on the Continent of Europe. With no prospect of a coup d'etat establishing a new Government with, probably, a drastic change in French policy or of a renewal of the war with Austria, there would have been no advance information of importance that Roger could hope to collect by remaining in Paris. He had therefore been envisaging an early return to England with the possibility, remote though he feared it to be, that he might persuade Georgina to marry him. But if he agreed to go to Egypt that would put a definite end to any such prospect.

After a moment he said, ^'No, no! As I have already said, I have no mind to commit myself to an adventure which may keep me out of Europe for several years, or to risk a futile death by thirst. And why should you ask it of me? '

Talleyrand smiled. ' For one reason, my friend: because I have your interests at heart. You have told me of your new resolution to make a career for yourself in France. What better first rung on the ladder to fortune could you desire than to have become one of Bonaparte's aides-de-camp? Fate has enabled you to hitch your wagon to a star. Should you excuse yourself from accompanying the little Corsican he will never forgive you, so you will find yourself finished here when you have scarce begun. Besides, unless my judgment is much at fault, he will not remain away from France indefinitely. Whatever inducements the East may appear to offer,

the real prize lies here, as Dictator, and he is well aware of it.'

'There is much in what you say,' Roger admitted reluctantly, ' and, of course, I am devoted to him. But, even so . . .'

'So you have said. But you must forgive me if I remark that if you are prepared to deprive him of your services at this turning point in his career I should be bound to feel some slight doubt about your devotion being genuine.'

' Oh, come! If he asked me I'd risk my life in his service anywhere in Europe. It is just . . . well, that having been to Egypt I am extremely loath to return to that sweltering and disease-ridden country.'

' Yet I fear you must.' Talleyrand gave a mock sigh. ' You see, my dear fellow, eager as I am to believe every word you have told me, you have given me no proof of this change of heart which you have recently experienced. I am, alas, cursed with a suspicious nature. You say that you have now abandoned all ties with England and have become, er . . . in all but the formalities . . . a Frenchman. More, you are now a soldier of France. If, therefore, you wish to convince me, once and for all, that you have told the truth, you must prove it by going where your duty calls you.'

Roger knew that he was trapped. He had counted too highly on established custom concerning foreigners in an enemy country. Up to and at that date wars were regarded as a matter for governments and their lighting forces. Civilians of one nation were courteously permitted to travel through or continue to reside in countries with which their own countries were at war. It was not until Napoleon became Emperor of the French that a new era was introduced by his having all enemy aliens rounded up by his police and thrown into concentration camps. Moreover, there was nothing at all unusual in a man of one nationality making a career in the Army or Navy or another. For that matter, Bonaparte was himself more Italian by blood than he was French, and the Englishman Tom Paine had been a Deputy in the French Convention.

Banking on Talleyrand's friendship, Roger had not expected that the diplomat would treat him as an exception to the prevailing rule. That might well have proved the case had he been in France as a civilian, or even had Talleyrand not known of his past association with Mr. Pitt. Belatedly he realized that it had been too much to expect the Foreign Minister to allow him to retain his status as a French Colonel in Paris with access to military secrets. No alternative had been suggested; but Roger felt certain there would be one, and one which might well put a permanent end to his activities as a secret agent. Once more he felt that there was nothing for it but to agree; so with as much cheerfulness as he could muster he replied:

^' So be it, then. Since you insist on my giving you this evidence of my good faith, I'll go to Egypt; but if I die there my blood will be on your head.¹

^' God forbid that either of us should be called on so to suffer,' smiled his host. ^' And now that everything is settled between us in such an amicable manner let us drink to your safe return. That the peaches are somewhat short of perfection you must forgive, but at this season I have to have them brought by courier from hothouses in the south of France. I assure you, though, that the Chateau Yquem that goes with them is near as old as myself and could hardly be bettered.'

It was not until half an hour later, as Roger walked away from the Rue du Bac, that he had a chance to take serious stock of his new situation. He still felt that the account of himself which he had given was sufficiently plausible for Talleyrand to have at least half believed it, but the fact that he had not swallowed it hook, line and sinker. Instead, he had not only extracted a promise that Roger should not communicate with his country but had also taken steps to see that he would shortly be transported to a distant shore where, for a long time to come, even if he ignored his promise, he would be in no position to send information to England about such plans as the Directory might be making.

On one point Roger took an immediate decision. It could be taken for granted that during the six months the Foreign Minister had been in office he would have established his own service of secret agents. That being so, if he did suspect that Roger was still acting for Mr. Pitt, he would be kept under constant observation from now on until he was safely out of Paris. Therefore, it would be tempting Fate to pay another visit to the secret post-office and hand in his despatch.

That did not particularly worry him. He was in fact relieved that circumstances should prevent his having to carry out a duty at the cost of breaking his word to a friend. He regarded it as a good thing that preparations to resist invasion should continue to be made in England at high pressure; for, although Bonaparte bad refused the gamble, the Directory were so eager that the operation should be undertaken that it was quite possible that during his absence they might persuade Moreau or some other General to undertake it.

As far as the expedition to Egypt was concerned, its preparations would take many weeks, if not months, and must be on such a scale that other British agents could hardly fail to learn their purpose. It was annoying to have acquired this important piece of information long before any other agent was likely to do so, yet be deprived of the kudos for passing it on. But it was better to be safe than sorry, so he quickly resigned himself to leaving it to someone else to report.

That brought him to the all-important question—should he or should he not accompany Bonaparte? If he backed out, it was certain that the clever Talleyrand would think of some way of thoroughly discrediting him without actually bringing him into danger. It would then be useless for him to remain in Paris. Moreover, as Talleyrand had pointed out, to resign his appointment at such a juncture would cost him for good the place he had won in Bonaparte's confidence and, if the General did return safely from his Eastern venture, there could be little doubt that he would prove the dominant figure in the French politics of the future.

Having reasoned so far, it became apparent to Roger that he was faced with clear-cut alternatives—either he must go to Egypt or slip quietly away to England with his tail between his legs and confess to Mr. Pitt that he was finished as a secret agent.

Could he have been certain that Georgina would marry him, he would have been prepared to take the latter course; but he knew that for her to change her mind after all these years was very unlikely. That being the case, there would be nothing to console him for retiring from the ringside seat from which he had observed, and sometimes influenced, High Policy in Europe for so long. Moreover, it was a bitter thought that he would end on a note of complete failure the career he had followed for the past ten years with such outstanding success.

The alternative, too, offered extremely high dividends. By going to Egypt he could convince Talleyrand of his bona fides, and so even win his confidence. He would retain Bonaparte's goodwill and if, as Talleyrand predicted, he returned sooner than might be expected to assume dictatorial powers, his goodwill would then be invaluable.

There were two other smaller points, though important ones to Roger. First, he had promised Talleyrand not to communicate with England only while he was in France. Once outside the country he would again be free to do so by any means he could devise without any feeling of shame at having broken his word, even though it were in the service of his country. Secondly, although he might leave France with Bonaparte, it did not follow that he would remain.with him indefinitely. An occasion might well arise by which, while still retaining the General's goodwill, he could manage to get back to Europe long before Bonaparte.

By the time he was crossing the Place du Louvre towards La Belle £toile he had decided that Talleyrand had, for the present, cornered him; so he must accept the challenge and play the game out or lose all respect for himself. On reaching the inn he went up to his room, lifted a loose floor-board, took the despatch he had written from its hiding place and burned it. Then he resolutely set about accustoming his mind to the fact that he would soon be leaving Europe and might not see his own country again for a long time to come.

During the weeks that followed he spent his time much as he had since his arrival in Paris. The Directory had not yet given its official consent to the expedition to Egypt so no overt preparations for it could be made; but Bonaparte had begun to draw up lists of his requirements, and from time to time used Roger to make discreet enquiries about the availability of different items. Apart from that he continued with his social round, which was rapidly making him one of the best-informed men in Paris. This round included attendance at all receptions given by members of the Bonaparte family, the older members of which he had met in Italy.

The General's mother, Madame Letizia, entertained rarely, but Roger saw her occasionally at the houses of her children. She was a tall, angular woman and had inherited from her peasant ancestors both the best and worst of their qualities. Her husband had died in '85, leaving her far from well-off and with a brood of seven children, ranging from one to seventeen years of age. During the upheavals that had shaken Corsica in the years that followed she had often been in dire straits to support her young family, but had faced every hardship with immense courage and, while treating her children with great strictness, had succeeded in bringing them up in the best traditions of the petit-noblesse.

She was devout, high-principled and unspoilt by her second son's rise to greatness. But she was extremely mean, owing to a belief that such prosperity could not last and that a day would come when to help her extravagant children she would need all she could save from the generous allowance the General made her.

Joseph, her eldest son—now aged thirty—had recently returned from being Ambassador at Rome. He had studied law at Pisa and was a virtuous, good-natured, intelligent man. After the family left Corsica and settled in Marseilles as refugees he had married Julie Clary, the daughter of a wealthy merchant there. She made him an excellent wife and was regarded by all as an angel of goodness, owing to her tireless activity in every form of charity. They had a pretty house in the Rue du Rocher, to which Joseph had brought back with him from Rome his wife's sister, Desiree. She was a great, if somewhat insipid, beauty and some years earlier had inspired Bonaparte with a most tender passion. At the moment she was in deep mourning for General Duphot, for she had become engaged to him before his untimely death in Rome the previous December.

Between Napoleon and Lucien, Letizia's third son, there was a gap of six years. Physically he bore little resemblance to the others, for he was tall, ill-shaped and had a small head and long thin limbs like those of a spider. In addition, he was so nearsighted that he was always peering at people with his head thrust forward and eyes half-closed. After Napoleon he was the most talented and independent-minded of the family, and its firebrand. As a dyed-in-the-wool Republican, he had been imprisoned as a Robespierrist at the end of the Terror, although he was only nineteen at the time. His brother Napoleon had had some difficulty in securing his release. He then got himself work as a storekeeper in St. Maxim and while there had married Christine Boyer, the daughter of the village innkeeper.

It was in keeping with Lucien's Republican principles to have married a barmaid; but the news drove his brother, then in Italy, into a frenzy of rage, for the young General-in-Chief was already visualizing himself as the head of a powerful family and planning for his relatives to marry far above their social status. Christine proved to be a good-looking, but undesigning, sweet-natured girl, and she soon won the love of all her husband's family, with the one exception of the General. She very soon adapted herself to her new circumstances and on coming to Paris was much admired for the elegance with which she displayed on her tall figure the latest creations of the fashionable dressmakers Leroi, Despaux and German. Even so, it was a long time before the disgruntled Napoleon would receive her, although, to enable the couple to support themselves, he procured for Lucien a post as one of the Commissioners with the Army in Germany. From this post they had just returned to Paris and Lucien was about to enter the Assembly as Deputy for Corsica.

£lise, the General's eldest sister, was just twenty-one. She was the least good-looking and least attractive of the sisters. Having been sent at an early age to Madame Campan's Academy for the Daughters of the Nobility as a charity pupil, supported by the late Queen, she always endeavoured to conceal the fact that she owed her excellent education to Marie Antoinette, and gave herself airs far above those to which a member of a poor Corsican family could pretend. Nevertheless, in the previous May she had married Felice Bacciochi, a Corsican landowner of little better birth than herself. This marriage, too, had infuriated her ambitious brother, as he had by then already established his Court at Montebello, and it had been contracted without his knowledge. However, Madame Letizia had been privy to the match and had sponsored it, from the belief that a solid Corsican with a little land would make £lise a better husband than some sprig of the Italian nobility selected for her by the General. Even so, he provided the Bacciochis with a house in the Grande Rue Verte and enabled them to entertain lavishly; but £lise showed him little gratitude and the ambitious intrigues that she conducted with considerable skill were often a cause of annoyance to him.

Louis, some eighteen months younger, came next. He was a mild, easy-going young man, lacking both the robust health and quick intelligence of his elder brothers. Yet he was the General's favourite, because he had been personally brought up by him. At the time when Napoleon was a near-penniless officer, studying at the Military College in Paris, he had sent for Louis, shared his attic with him, taught him at night by candlelight and made great sacrifices to clothe and feed him. At the age of seventeen Louis accompanied the General to Italy as one of his aides-de-camp and had acquitted himself creditably during the campaign. As he still held this appointment, Roger saw a lot of him.

Pauline was still only seventeen. She was the beauty of the family—gay, amusing and always surrounded by young men. She, too, had married in the previous summer, but a man of her brother's choice: the handsome young General Leclerc. She was Napoleon's favourite sister and, although like the others, ambitious and grasping, she showed him more affection and loyalty than they did. She and her husband were now installed in a house in the Rue de la Ville l'£veque.

Caroline, aged fifteen, and Jerome, aged thirteen, were still completing their education. These two were as yet too young to have joined in the family feud; but the rest, however much they might quarrel about other matters, were united in one thing—their hatred of Josephine. The puritanical Madame Letizia considered her daughter-in-law little better than a whore, while the others were riddled with jealousy and intensely resented Josephine's failure to reprove flatterers who insinuated that as she was better born than Napoleon she had done him a favour by marrying him.

Since Josephine, between her two marriages, had sunk to the status of a titled demi-mondaine, dependent for money on such presents as her men friends gave her, and had been no longer received by ladies of good reputation, Roger appreciated the point of view of the Bonaparte family. But Josephine had always shown him such unfailing kindness that, without going so far as to champion her against her detractors, he endeavoured, whenever the opportunity arose, to make them think better of her.

In all the salons Roger attended the talk, when not concerned with the latest scandals, was of events in Italy and Switzerland. In the latter country the declaration by the Directory at the end of December that France would give her protection to the Republicans of the Vaudois had led to a general war. The mobs in Zurich, Basle and Geneva had taken up the agitation for equality. General Schaumberg was ordered to march a Division of the French Army of the Rhine into Switzerland, and General Brune another Division from the Army of Italy. The Bernese aristocracy had, meanwhile, told their people in the cantons that the French were bandits and atheists who would rob them and deprive them of their religion, upon which twenty thousand stalwart mountaineers banded together in defence of their property and beliefs.

Numerous bloody engagements followed and, unfortunately, the Swiss, having on two occasions been compelled to retreat, believed that they had been betrayed by their officers. So they murdered many of the best among them, including the Bernese General, Erlach. Compelled to give way before the disciplined assaults of the French, the Swiss patriots had fallen back on Berne. Women, old men and young boys heroically threw themselves on the bayonets of the enemy in an endeavour to defend the city, but to no avail. On March 5th, after a most bloody massacre, General Brune entered it as a conqueror.

Soon afterwards, having arbitrarily annexed the city of Geneva, the French renamed the Swiss Confederation, calling it the Helvetic Republic, and installed a Government on similar lines to that in France. They then set about realizing the intention which had inspired their unscrupulous decision to bring murder, misery and ruin to this peaceful people—namely, the systematic looting of the country from end to end.

While hundreds of priests were being dragged from their hiding places and shot, and bands of Christians who still resisted were being hunted through the mountains until they could be cornered and massacred, the French Commissioners were sending back to France millions of gold francs looted indiscriminately from the treasuries of the cities and the private savings of individuals.

These doings caused Bonaparte considerable anxiety, as France's unprovoked attack on the Swiss cantons had alarmed many of the German Princes. With good reason they felt apprehensive that they might become the next victims of the rapacious Republic and that their best means of protecting their territories lay in combining their forces under the leadership of Austria and urging the Emperor to renew the war against France. A fresh outbreak of hostilities on the Continent would have led to many of the best regiments, which Bonaparte had earmarked for his Egyptian expedition, being sent to the Rhine. That was the very last thing he wanted; so he was doing his utmost to restrain the republican belligerency of the Directors and manoeuvre them into taking steps calculated to reassure the Germans.

Nevertheless, no man was more guilty of this bloody plundering of a nation than Bonaparte. When in Italy he had already been dreaming of himself as the Conqueror of the East and, without disclosing their object, making certain preparations which would facilitate his great design. One had been to send a million francs to the authorities at Toulon, to enable them to repair certain warships and thus strengthen the Fleet he would need to escort his transports. On learning of this the Directors had promptly seized the million for their own use. Angry as he was, Bonaparte had not at that time felt himself strong enough to join issue with them; so the warships remained unfit to put to sea.

Then, on his return from Italy via Switzerland, he had seen the wealth of the latter country and decided that she should pay for fitting out his armada. It was he who had conferred in Berne with the Swiss agitator Peter Ochs, encouraging him to create disturbances at the head of mobs calling for 'Liberty', and promising him the protection of France. He well knew that intervention would automatically be followed by conquest and a stream of Swiss gold flowing to Paris.

Now that he was in Paris he knew that the Directors would think twice before they dared to countermand any measures he took, and he was complacently reaping the fruits of his infamy. Roger had seen a letter from him that was to be despatched to Lannes, who had been sent to serve under Brune in Switzerland. In this letter Bonaparte instructed the Brigadier to have three millions of the stolen gold sent at once to Toulon.

Meanwhile in Rome things had been going far from well. Berthier's entry into the city on February 13th had been the signal for the Republican leaders there to raise the mobs against the nobility and the Vatican. Berthier, installed in the Castle of St. Angelo, overawed the Papal troops and so ensured the rabble a free hand. Two days later, amid scenes of great excitement, the Pope was deprived of his temporal powers by public acclamation and Rome was proclaimed a Republic.

Bonaparte, although in Paris, was still technically General-in-Chief of the Army of Italy, and it was he who had sent Berthier his orders. On receiving them, the ugly little Chief-of-Staff had replied, ^' In sending me to Rome you appoint me treasurer to the Army of England.' And he set about this welcome task in no uncertain manner.

The treasures that Bonaparte had blackmailed the Pope into yielding up the preceding year as the price of saving his city from occupation were a bagatelle when compared to the new plundering that Berthier and the French Commissioners undertook. They stripped the Vatican bare of its valuables and treated in a similar manner the scores of palaces of the Roman nobility, except in such cases where their owners could raise huge sums to bribe those who ordered the looting to refrain. Inside a month the French ^' bringers of Liberty' had made off with no fewer than sixty million francs in gold and, in addition, works of art that in value equalled that sum.

Moreover, they had treated the eighty-year-old Pope Pius VI with revolting barbarity. He had consistently offered a passive resistance to their threats and extortions and refused to leave Rome. Thereupon the French Commissioner Haller had snatched his pastoral staff, torn his ring from his finger, bundled him forcibly into a carriage and sent him under guard to Siena, without baggage or attendants.

This violent act, and the sack of Rome, soon produced serious repercussions. Christians everywhere were horrified at the brutality shown to the aged Pontiff, and in many countries the feeling strengthened that the French Republic was a menace to civilization and must be fought and overcome.

Another result which the French had not foreseen arose from the distribution of the looted millions. No doubt a great part of them reached the Directory; but Berthier, his Generals and the Commissioners retained great fortunes for themselves, whereas the junior officers and troops were given little or nothing. Resentment at having done the work while their superiors strutted about smothered in stolen jewels led to serious unrest in the Army.

Berthier, sensing trouble from the petitions presented by his ill-paid, half-starved troops, promptly retired to the Cisalpine, leaving General Massena in command in Rome. No sooner had Berthier departed than a mutiny broke out. During the Italian campaign Massena had shown himself to be one of Bonaparte's most able Generals, but his courage in the face of troops refusing to obey orders did not equal that he had displayed on the battlefield. He, too, promptly left Rome, handing over his Command to an unfortunate junior General named Dallemagne. Upon this the workers of Rome, by then disillusioned about the benefits of 'Liberty' brought to them by the French, rose in revolt and attempted to drive the French Army from the city.

In northern Italy the indignation at the behaviour of the French in Rome was intense, and the Councils of the Cisalpine Republic refused to ratify a treaty that their envoy had been bullied into signing in Paris. By this treaty they would have had to support twenty-five thousand French troops, make a big contribution to the French war loan and virtually bind themselves to France as a satellite. All classes were now regretting bitterly that they had thrown off the light yoke of Austria to replace it with a tyranny that respected neither God, honour, property nor morals, and the people were ripe for an attempt to drive out the French. On March 20th Berthier's troops purged the Councils, forced their rump to sign the treaty and overawed the populace with their cannon. Thus the Cisalpine Republic was robbed of the independence guaranteed it by the Treaty of Camp Formio; but it remained a cauldron seething with unrest.

In April there came trouble in Vienna. At Rastatt Austria had agreed to cede to France the left bank of the Rhine, but the uncouth brigands sent to the Conference by the Directory as its representatives were behaving in such an aggressive and highhanded manner that, angered by their gratuitous insults, the German plenipotentiaries had come near to refusing to continue the negotiations.

The Directory then poured fuel on the fire by sending as its Ambassador to Vienna General Bernadotte. No choice could have been worse, as he was an unscrupulous, fierce tempered Garcon and a red-hot revolutionary. His Division had been sent from the Rhine to reinforce Bonaparte's Army in Italy, and several score of his officers and N.C.O.s had fought duels with their compatriots rather than submit to Bonaparte's innovation that the term ^' Citoyen' should be dropped and the old form of address, ' Monsieur' be revived.

Now, to flaunt his revolutionary principles in the face of the Viennese, Bernadotte, on the eve of a patriotic festival, displayed an enormous tricolour flag over the gate of the Embassy. The Viennese were so furious that they tore the flag down and threatened to burn the mansion about his ears. He declared that the French Republic had been insulted, demanded his passports and returned to Paris, thus bringing the two countries once again to the brink of war.

In was only on April 12th—three days before the incident in Vienna—that Bonaparte had at last succeeded in getting from the Directory a definitive directive for his expedition. In brief, it was that he should take possession of Egypt, chase the English from all their possessions in the East that he could reach, establish bases in the Red Sea, have the Isthmus of Suez cut through and, as far as he could, maintain good relations with the Sultan of Turkey.

His fury, therefore, can be imagined when news arrived of Bernadotte's provocation of the Austrians, with the renewed threat that another outbreak of war in Europe might, at the eleventh hour, prevent his carrying out his cherished design. For a few hours his future hung in the balance; but by a combination of tact, sound reasoning and browbeating he succeeded in persuading the Directors to swallow the insult to the French flag, thus preventing a resumption of hostilities.

Although the object of the expedition continued to be a closely guarded secret, the fact that a great force was assembling in the Mediterranean ports, under French control, could no longer be concealed. From Marseilles right round to Civitavecchia every ship was being examined for seaworthiness, repaired when necessary and listed with the number of troops she could carry. Picked regiments from all quarters were also on the march, converging on the ports, and vast quantities of supplies were being sent to them.

Bonaparte worked tirelessly, often for more than eighteen hours a day, dictating hundreds of letters and personally supervising the ordering of the smallest details. Berthier, whom he had recalled from Italy, worked even longer hours. People might laugh behind Berthier's back at his vanity and his assumption that brilliant uniforms could disguise his ugliness, but he had a capacity for work which no other Staff officer could rival. He could carry on at a time of crisis for three or four days without any sleep at all, and his memory for facts and figures concerning the Army was prodigious.

From the latter part of March, Roger and his fellow aides-decamp had little leisure. As the chosen band who, with a few of Bonaparte's most trusted Generals, were alone in the great secret, they were called on to carry out a thousand errands needing firmness coupled with discretion. By the end of April the General-in-Chief's demands on them had increased to such an extent that they had to forgo all social activities and were lucky if they could drop into their beds by the early hours of the morning.

On May 1st Roger and several other Staff officers quietly left Paris. On May 9th Bonaparte joined them in Toulon. Everything was now in readiness. The expedition had by then been organized as four sections. The largest, concentrated on Toulon and Marseilles, was under Bonaparte's personal command. Another from Genoa under Baraguay d'Hilliers, a third under General Vaubois, was to sail from Ajaccio, and the fourth under Desaix from Civitavecchia.

When united, the armada would consist of thirteen ships-of-the-line, fourteen frigates, seventy-four smaller war vessels and between three and four hundred transports. On board there were some forty thousand troops, ten thousand seamen and several hundred civilians whom Bonaparte had decided, for a variety of reasons, to take. The Senior Naval Officer was Admiral Brueys; but he had been placed under the orders of the General-in-Chief, who accepted full responsibility for the direction of the expedition.

For some weeks rumours had been rife about the destination of this great concentration of troops and shipping. Some people believed that the intention was to seize the Sultan's dominions in Europe and free the Greeks and other Christians from the Mohammedan yoke. Others thought that the armada would sail round the Cape of Good Hope to wrest India from the British. A few rightly guessed that its objective was Egypt. But the majority were of the opinion that it was to be a follow-up, on a far greater scale than had ever before been attempted, of the old plan to land an Army in Ireland.

On arriving in Toulon, Bonaparte gave added credence to this last belief by a stirring proclamation addressed to his troops in which he termed them the ' Left Wing of the Army of England', the inference being that the right wing had mustered in the Channel ports and that, when the two French Fleets had united to destroy that of Britain, both Armies would descend on the hated English.

Bad weather delayed the sailing and, during the days of waiting, Josephine, who had accompanied her husband to Toulon, begged him repeatedly to allow her to sail with him. She argued that since she had been brought up in Martinique she would find the heat of Egypt pleasant rather than exhausting. Feeling that her presence would distract his thoughts he refused, but at length relented to the extent of agreeing that she should follow him in a few weeks' time.

On May 19th the bad weather at last abated, so it was decided to put to sea. Roger, with the rest of Bonaparte's Staff, was in the hundred-and-twenty-gun L'Orient, the largest warship afloat. In the great ship were also most of the senior Generals and a considerable number of distinguished intellectuals whom Bonaparte was taking with him to unravel some of the mysteries of the East. Roger had been allocated a bunk in a fairly spacious cabin, which he shared with three other aides-de-camp, and it was quite near to that which had been given to Bourrienne.

Shortly before anchor was weighed Roger looked in on the Chef de Cabinet, who had already settled down to work.

Glancing up at him, as he stood in the narrow doorway, Bourrienne handed him a paper and said, ^' What d'you think of this? I received it only as the last crates of chickens were being hoisted aboard.'

It was an intelligence report and read:

Government in London still believed to credit Deception Plan and assume armament assembling in Mediterranean ports has as object (1) combination with Brest Squadron and Army of the North for descent on England or (2) possibly invasion of Ireland. Reliable information recently received that on A pril 20th Cabinet decided to send powerful squadron into Mediterranean with object of intercepting French expedition before it can enter Atlantic and combine with Franco-Spanish forces there. Above now confirmed by squadron detached from Lord St. Vincent's fleet passing Straits of Gibraltar under command of Rear Admiral Sir Nelson.

Roger had been wondering when he would manage to get back from Egypt. As he returned the intelligence report to Bourrienne, he began to wonder if he would even get there.

9

'Who wouldn't be a Soldier, ah! It's a shame to take the pay'

The activities in the Mediterranean ports during the past two months had been so exceptional that Roger had felt certain that news of them could not have failed to reach the British Government. But it came as a surprise to him to learn that, after having been compelled to withdraw from the Mediterranean eighteen months before, the British should again have taken the initiative.

He promptly reasoned that the assumption in the intelligence report—that the British Government still credited the Deception Plan—was wrong and that, although he had been unable to send home information of the expedition's destination, they had learned from some other source that Bonaparte intended to invade Egypt. Otherwise, surely St. Vincent would have waited until the French armada was well out into the Atlantic and so far more vulnerable to attack.

In any case, it was incapable of defending itself against a strong British Squadron; and Admiral Brueys had made no secret of it to Bonaparte's Staff that, should he be attacked, he was far from happy about his chances of convoying the Army safely to its objective. The French Navy was still suffering seriously from the effects of the Revolution. During that time nine-tenths of its experienced officers had either been sent to the guillotine or gone into exile and all offences still had to be tried by jury, which meant

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that discipline was almost non-existent. Three of the battleships were old and rotten, many of the transports were barely seaworthy, cables and sails were of poor quality, much of the equipment was badly worn and there were very few spares of any kind. In consequence, if an Admiral with the dash and determination of Nelson came up with the armada the result must be a massacre.

As an Englishman, Roger was naturally pleased to learn that there was now a good prgspect of his country gaining a resounding victory and destroying the flower of the French Army at one blow. However, as he was at present with that Army and in a ship from which there was no possible means of escape, he had to face the unnerving fact that he might well be destroyed himself.

Actually his fears were, for the time being, groundless; for Nelson had entered the Mediterranean a few days earlier, with only three ships-of-the-line and five smaller craft, his instructions being to reconnoitre the French coast and, if possible, find out the intended destination of Bonaparte's armada. This latter fact was not, as Roger supposed, known to the British. It was not until some days later that Earl St. Vincent received orders from London to send a strong Squadron into the Mediterranean and despatched, to come under Nelson's command, a further fourteen ships-of-the-line, whose Captains were some of the ablest officers in the British Navy.

Moreover, when the armada had been only one day at sea a tempest sprang up and, while the French Fleet escaped with a severe tossing, Nelson's ships were caught in the centre of the storm. His own ship was dismasted and he had to take refuge under the lee of Sardinia to refit, thus losing his first chance of intercepting the French expedition.

Roger was seasick, as he usually was in bad weather; but even his miserable condition did not prevent his constantly coming up on deck to gaze anxiously in all directions, fearing at any time that Nelson's ships would appear on the horizon, heralding for him the horrible possibility of being killed or drowned within the next few hours.

When, after some days, the weather improved he was able to distract his mind from his fears somewhat by mingling with his fellow-passengers, and rarely can such a galaxy of brains, talent and gallantry have been assembled for a long voyage in one ship. Bonaparte was taking to Egypt Kleber, Desaix, Bon, Menou and Reynier as his Divisional Commanders; Alexandre Dumas to command the cavalry, Dommartin the artillery and Caffarelli the engineers; Lannes as Quartermaster-General, Berthier as Chief-of-Staff and fourteen other Generals, including Marmont and Pauline's husband Leclerc. Murat, Junot, Davoust, Bessieres, Rapp, Savary, Duroc and Eugene de Beauharnais were also included. All of them were to win glory and ten of them were destined to become Princes, Dukes and Marshals of the Empire.

Many of these beaux sabreurs sailed with Bonaparte in the mighty L'Orient. Also on board were Monge, Berthollet, Denon and a number of other distinguished intellectuals. Even Bonaparte's triumphs in Italy had given him scarcely more pleasure than having been elected to the Institute on his return to Paris. So proud was he of the honour that he even signed his letters, ^' Member of the Institute and General-in-Chief'. His interest in science was hardly less than that in military affairs, and his intention was that, while he conquered Egypt, these civilian members of his entourage should delve into the secrets of the past and bring France honour by revealing to the world much that was still unknown about the ancient civilizations of the East.

To assist them in their labours and for employment with the Army, Bonaparte had enrolled a considerable number of interpreters who spoke Arabic, Turkish or Greek; and in the hold of L'Orient there lay several printing presses, with founts of type in these languages, so that declarations and propaganda could be printed without delay.

Roger had a flair for languages and on his long voyage to India in '96 he had learned Persian—the diplomatic language of the East—from one of the India Company's officials. Then, on his return to Europe, via the Red Sea, he had mastered colloquial Arabic. Now he took the opportunity to brush up his Arabic by spending an hour or two each day with one of the interpreters, and also learned from him a few phrases of Turkish.

The main convoy from Toulon and Marseilles sailed first to Genoa then to Corsica, to pick up its other contingents, but it failed to make contact with the fourth flotilla which had assembled at Civitavecchia. It was not until they were off Malta that Desaix succeeded in reporting with it.

Owing partly to contrary winds, and partly to the difficulty of keeping together such a great number of ships, the speed of the armada averaged only fifty miles a day; so it was nearly three weeks later, and June 9th, before they sighted the island stronghold that had for centuries been held by the Knights of St. John of Jerusalem.

Bonaparte had declared when he was in Italy that any Power holding Corfu and Malta could control the Mediterranean. Already nurturing secret designs against the East, he had robbed Venice of the Ionian Isles, after installing a French garrison in Corfu by a shabby trick. For Malta then being beyond his military orbit, he had resorted to other methods. A certain M. Poussielgue, who w2s Secretary of the French Legation in Genoa, had relatives living in Malta. Learning this, Bonaparte sent for him and despatched him on a mission to the island, ostensibly to increase its trade with France, but secretly to undermine the discipline of the Knights and bribe a number of them.

The Knights' original function had been to protect pilgrims on their way to the Holy Land; but with the ending of the Crusades this duty fell into abeyance, so the Knights had undertaken that of protecting Christian shipping in the Mediterranean from the Barbary pirates who infested the coast of North Africa. However, for more than a century past they had become decadent, leading a life of luxurious ease and licentiousness. The only vessels they now possessed were a few half-rotten warships that never put to sea and some gaily painted galleys that they used for water festivals.

On arriving before Valetta, Bonaparte asked permission for his Feet to enter the great harbour to take on water. The Grand Master replied that by custom only two warships of any nation were allowed into the harbour at one time. Bonaparte then summoned the island to surrender and ordered Admiral Brueys to begin bombarding the forts.

These were immensely strong and Valetta had long been regarded as impregnable. It could certainly have withstood a siege for many weeks. But Poussielgue had done his work well. Only a few cannon were fired in reply. The French Knights betrayed their Order and led the native Maltese, who were little better than their slaves, in a revolt which put an end to further resistance. So in a single day the Conqueror of Italy became the master of one of the greatest strongholds in Europe.

Yet he and France were soon to pay dearly for this cheaply bought victory. Fearing an aggression that they were too supine to resist on their own, the Knights had recently offered the Grand Mastership of their Order to Paul I of Russia. The Czar, in due course, joyfully accepted, as he saw in Malta a naval base which would be invaluable to him in his ambition to dismember the Empire of Russia's hereditary enemies, the Turks. With childish vanity he began preening himself in the colourful robes of a Grand Master as the champion of Christendom. When he learned that Bonaparte had robbed him of the romantic role which he had expected to play his anger knew no bounds and from that moment he became one of France's most deadly enemies.

Bonaparte stayed only seven days in Malta, but during that time he carried out as many reforms as would have taken most administrators a long term of office. He abolished the Order, compensated the French Knights, gave the people a Constitution, revised the taxes, customs and octroi dues, ordered certain streets to be broadened and public fountains to be installed, decreed a new curriculum for the university and reorganized the hospitals and the post-office. In addition, he naturally suppressed the religious houses, stole their funds and made off with all the bullion, jewelled chalices, crucifixes and other treasure he could lay his hands on. Only the solid silver gates at the Church of St. John escaped him because they happened to have been painted over.

With a Republican Government installed under a French military dictator, and the pillaging of Valetta completed, the armada sailed again, this time for Egypt. Life in LOrient was resumed on the lines it had taken soon after the departure from Toulon. On Bonaparte's instructions Bourrienne had selected a considerable library of books for him to read on the voyage. Knowing his master's tastes, the Chef de Cabinet had included a hundred and twenty-five volumes of history both ancient and modern, the best of the Roman poets, the masterpieces of the French theatre, a few books of travel and some forty novels, most of which were translations from the English. To complete this comprehensive assortment he had added a Bible, a Koran, the Vedas and several other books dealing with Eastern customs and religions.

Bonaparte showed particular interest in these last, as he was anxious to familiarize himself with the ways of the people in the countries he intended to conquer. For the greater part of each day he lay on the bed in his big cabin engrossed in these books or in accounts of the campaigns of Caesar, Hannibal, Marlborough and Louis XIV. But every evening he summoned to his cabin a selected company with whom he carried on animated discussions far into the night. In his insatiable thirst for knowledge he bombarded the savants with an endless stream of questions on an immense variety of subjects, and often propounded some debatable philosophical or religious belief for the pleasure of seeing them argue hotly about it.

Off Crete, those aboard the armada remained blissfully ignorant that it had been missed by Nelson by only a matter of hours; but when approaching Egypt the frigate Junon was sent on ahead to Alexandria, and returned with the alarming news that the British Squadron had put in there the previous day. Roger again began to scan the horizon with acute anxiety, but the General-in-Chief showed no trace of dismay. He ordered Admiral Brueys to continue on course, and his lucky star was in the ascendant. Nelson, having revictualled his Fleet at Naples, had guessed that Bonaparte's probable destination was Egypt, so he had made all sail there. Not finding the enemy he had turned north, now believing that the French had made their landing in Syria. On July 1st, the topmasts of his ships disappeared below one horizon only as those of the French armada began to appear over the other.

The French Consul at Alexandria, who had been taken on board the Junon, declared that any attempt to enter the harbour would certainly be opposed, so Bonaparte ordered sail to be set again for Marabout, some nine miles along the coast. It was nightfall when they arrived there, the hundreds of transports were scattered over many square miles of sea, and a gale had arisen driving them on to a lee shore. Nevertheless, the General-in-Chief gave orders for an immediate landing. Brueys protested that such an attempt would be suicidal; but Bonaparte, now harassed by the thought that at any hour Nelson might return and catch him at a terrible disadvantage, overruled his Admiral and was the first to step into a boat.

A night ensued of desperate effort, terror, and death for many. The shore of the creek was lined with reefs upon which the sea broke furiously. The howling wind frequently drove the boats from their course or piled them up on rocks. Bonaparte had brought only a limited number of horses, counting on mounting the bulk of his cavalry on animals procured in Egypt, but it was important to land a few dozen for scouts and despatch riders. The poor brutes were lowered by slings into the heaving sea, and men in the boats then grabbed their bridles to tow them ashore.

Terrified and, except for their heads, totally submerged, many of the horses dragged the men from the boats so that they drowned with them, but others swam gamely and survived the ordeal. In the darkness on the beach there was hopeless confusion. The night was cold and everyone was drenched to the skin, yet Bonaparte would not allow any attempt to form a camp. By dawn he had some five thousand troops ashore and ordered an immediate advance on Alexandria.

Wet, cold and hungry, but inspired by his indomitable purpose, his soldiers began their first march across the sands of Egypt. The horses so far landed were so few and in such poor shape that he and his Generals marched with the men. On their way they were fired on by a few mounted Arabs, but no serious resistance was offered until by mid-morning they came within musket shot of the walls of the city, beyond which rose the domes of mosques and the slender towers of minarets.

There he divided his force into three columns. One was to be led by Bon against the Rosetta Gate, another by Kleber against the Gate of the Pillar and the third by Menou against the Gate of the Catacombs. The Turkish garrison maintained a steady fire with both muskets and antiquated cannon, whereas the French had so far been unable to land any of their artillery. But now, suffering for the first time under a blazing sun from acute thirst, their desperate need for water inspired them with a fierce determination to break into the city. After a number of bloody assaults, in which both Kleber and Menou were seriously wounded, they forced a breach in the crumbling walls, poured through it and drove the defenders back in confusion through the narrow streets.

A Turkish Captain who had been captured realized that further resistance was useless, and offered to act as intermediary. Bonaparte then produced a proclamation which he had prepared and sent him with it to his Commander. In this proclamation the wily Corsican declared that the French had come only to liberate the Egyptian people from the tyranny of the Mamelukes and prevent their further depredations on French commerce. He guaranteed respect for property and the Mohammedan religion —pointing out that it was France that had destroyed the Pope and the Knights of Malta, who had for centuries waged war on the Muslims—and promised to support the Sheiks, Cadis and Imams in a continuance of their duties to the glory of the Sultan.

These specious promises had the desired effect. A cease-fire was ordered and by four o'clock that afternoon he was master of Alexandria.

Yet when the French Army took possession of the city the troops were bitterly disappointed. Thousands of them were veterans of Bonaparte's Italian campaign, during which they had lined their pockets and had hoped, on returning to France, to buy pleasant farms or Httle businesses and settle down to a peaceful life of domesticity. Thousands of others were conscripts who had been forced to leave their homes in order that regiments might be brought up to full strength. The reluctance on the part of both veterans and conscripts to leave France had been overcome after the armada had sailed by a rumour put about amongst them that they were on their way to the East, where riches were inexhaustible, and that every man of them would return with a fortune.

Now, as they marched through the streets of the ancient city where Cleopatra had ruled in splendour, and which had been famous for centuries for its luxury, they saw only half-ruined mosques, palaces long since fallen into disrepair and squalid slums inhabited by poverty-stricken people.

This was no surprise to Roger, as he had spent several days in Alexandria during the previous July. He knew that, apart from the residences of the Mameluke Beys, the only well-furnished, comfortable houses were those occupied by Greek merchants in the so-called ^' new town' which lay outside the city.

One of them was the property of a Greek banker named Sarodopulous, who had been most helpful to Roger and, moreover, had him invited to stay until he could get a passage to Crete. This now presented Roger with a problem, as he had been travelling as an Englishman and Sarodopulous's principal reason for entertaining him so hospitably was because Mrs. Sarodopulous had been born an Englishwoman. If Bonaparte remained long in Alexandria it seemed highly probable that, since the banker was one of the town's wealthiest citizens, he and Roger would meet; and the Greek was going to be very surprised at finding that the Englishman he had entertained had in a few months been transformed into a French Colonel.

The thought of such a meeting did not cause Roger any great anxiety because, unlike Talleyrand and the despicable Fouché— who appeared to have sunk into oblivion—the Sarodopulouses.

had only the story he had given them himself to go on. He could, therefore, simply repudiate it; and, should Bonaparte learn of the encounter, he would accept without question Roger's explanation that while in Alexandria he had posed as an Englishman in order to secure as much information as he could about the enemies of France.

Now that the Army of Egypt had established itself on land, Roger knew that he was likely to be very fully employed. His appointment by Bonaparte as his Aide-de-Camp-in-Chief had, of course, not matured, as the appointment had been dependent on the invasion of England and had been announced only as one of many little bluffs which would help give credence to the deception plan. But Bonaparte's reason for making Roger one of his aides-de-camp when in Italy had been because he was already dreaming of conquering the East and, as Roger had just returned from travelling in India and Egypt, he had decided that an old companion-in-arms with such experience would be of value to him on his Staff.

As usual, the General-in-Chief lost no time in putting to use any asset he had secured and that morning, much to Roger's relief, he had kept him out of the battle, but told him to arrange for suitable quarters as soon as the city surrendered.

It was Geraud Duroc, one of Roger's companions in Italy, who now held the appointment of Aide-de-Camp-in-Chief. He was a Republican and puritan but a man whose gentle charm made him beloved by all, and he now lived only to serve Bonaparte. Roger set off with him and an escort from Bonaparte's pet regiment of Guides and in the course of an hour they visited several palaces. Had Roger been in his master's shoes he would have taken up his quarters in one of the fine villas in the ^' new town', but he knew that the General-in-Chief would be extremely angry if he were not installed in one of the most imposing buildings in the city. There was also the point that he had given strict instructions that there was to be no pillaging and that the inhabitants were to be put to a minimum of inconvenience in accommodating his troops. They were, therefore, fortunate in finding a palace owned by a wealthy Pasha who had fled with his family on learning of the approach of the invaders.

Roger did all the talking, while Duroc made certain suggestions about the allocation of rooms for various purposes. The water carts were sent for, so that there would be ample for all purposes, extra divans brought in for junior members of the Staff and a lavish supply of food procured from the nearest market. In due course Bonaparte arrived with his entourage. They ate a hearty meal then, utterly exhausted from their night and day of strenuous effort, threw themselves, still in their clothes, on the divans and slept.

Soon after Roger awoke next morning his mind turned again to Sarodopulous. He decided that it would be sound policy to go to see the banker and give an explanation to him in private, rather than leave their meeting to chance when the odds were that other people would be present.

Immediately they had broken their fast Bonaparte set to work with Bourrienne, and kept all his aides-de-camp hurrying hither and thither on a score of errands; but during the morning Roger managed to get a word with Lannes and offered his help to the harassed Quartermaster-General in one of that functionary's most important responsibilities. Lannes gave the idea his blessing and passed him on to Andreossi, who readily accepted the proposal. That evening Roger got his master's permission to ride out to the ^' new town'.

Sarodopulous's handsome white villa had a terrace on the seaward side with a splendid view over the beautiful bay and as Roger trotted up the road he saw the banker sitting alone on the terrace; so, instead of riding round to the front door of the villa and having himself announced, he dismounted, hitched his horse to a stone pillar and walked up the steps.

As he approached the table at which Sarodopulous was sitting, the banker stood up, eyeing Roger's uniform with some apprehension. Then his dark eyes opened wide and he exclaimed in English:

^'Why! If it isn't Mr. Brook.'

'Colonel Breuc, aide-de-camp to the General-in-Chief of the Army of Egypt,' replied Roger, keeping his face expressionless as he made a formal bow.

'But . . . but . . .' stammered the Greek.

With a laugh, Roger held out his hand. ' But the same person to whom you extended much kindness when last in Alexandria. You will recall that I came to your office to cash a draft on Hoare's bank. As it was drawn on London and I am bilingual, you naturally took me for an Englishman; then, your wife being English, you invited me to become your guest. I had travelled for many months and was positively starved for civilized society, so I gave way to the temptation to accept your hospitality under false pretences. I can only hope that you will not think too harshly of me.'

Sarodopulous stroked his greying, curly beard and smiled. ^' Why, no. Since you had come all the way from India, with only Asiatics for companions, I can understand how you must have felt. Personally, too, it would have made no difference to me had you declared yourself a Frenchman. As an international banker, my relations with French and British merchants are equally good. But I fear my poor wife would not have agreed to receive you.'

'Do you . . .' Roger's face suddenly became grave, 'do you mean . . . ? '

The Greek nodded. 'Alas, yes. Last January. You will recall her fondness for the pleasures of the table. Nothing could restrain her, and her weight became too much for her heart. Going upstairs one evening ... I miss her greatly, but it is some consolation to me that it was all over very quickly.'

Roger well remembered the enormous bulk that the one-time Suffolk girl had acquired from her love of rich foods, and the gargantuan meals she had pressed upon him. Sorry as he was for Sarodopulous, he could not help feeling some relief at her demise, as she had remained fanatically patriotic and he had feared that she would prove an awkward stumbling block in his resuming good relations with the banker. Having expressed his sympathy with the bereaved husband he went on:

' You will, no doubt, have been informed of General Bonaparte's proclamation, announcing that the French have come to Egypt only to drive out the Mameluke tyrants and that they wish to establish most cordial relations with the Egyptian people. He does not, therefore, come here as a robber, but intends to pay for the great quantity of supplies he will need for his Army. To do so we shall require large sums of local currency. Having in mind your past kindness to me, and knowing you to be an honest broker, I had a talk with General Andr£ossi this morning. As our Paymaster-General he will be responsible for obtaining Egyptian money in exchange for gold. On my recommendation he has agreed that you should be appointed our principal agent.'

Sarodopulous's dark eyes opened wide, and he exclaimed, ' But Mr. ... I mean Colonel Breuc, how can I ever thank you!

I give you my word that General Andreossi shall have the best rate of exchange that can be procured in Alexandria. Yet, even so, to act as agent for the French Army will bring me a fortune. But come; we are still standing. Be pleased to sit down while I order wine. Then you must tell me about yourself and this amazing General on whose Staff you are. And you will honour me, I hope, by staying to supper.'

For the next hour Roger said little of his own doings, but talked freely about other matters, and gave a graphic description of the hazardous landing of the Army. He was then introduced to the banker's widowed sister-in-law and her son Achilles, who had been living with him since his wife's death. This Greek lady must have been a beauty when young, in spite of her face being somewhat marred by smallpox, and her son—a tall, well-built young man of about twenty-five, who had recently been made a partner in the family firm—was strikingly handsome. After a most excellent meal with these charming and intelligent Greeks, Roger rode back to the old city, well content with the outcome of his visit.

The following day proved another of feverish activity at Bonaparte's headquarters. Having sent for Sheik Koraim and other principal officials of the city, he spoke at great length of the benefits the French Republic was bringing to the world through its systematic destruction of all tyrants, and particularly the religious tyranny long wielded by Rome and her Christian priests. He even went so far as to say that he personally thought more highly of the Mohammedan faith, and quoted at them extracts from the Koran that he had learned by heart during the voyage.

Roger, who was present at this performance, thought it unlikely that the Sheiks and Imams would believe in the sincerity of these statements; but they were at least favourably impressed and willingly agreed to form a new Council to maintain order in the city and to co-operate with the French military authorities.

To have gained their goodwill was an important asset, as Bonaparte intended to push on as soon as possible to Cairo and he could afford to leave only a limited garrison in Alexandria. He would, however, have probably secured it without great difficulty in any case, owing to the very exceptional conditions maintaining in Egypt.

The country had for long been a part of the Turkish Empire and, in theory, was ruled by a Pasha appointed by the Sultan. But as Egypt was so far from Constantinople the Sultans had feared that one day an ambitious Viceroy might repudiate their authority and make himself Sultan of Egypt. To guard against such an eventuality they had appointed twenty-four Mameluke Beys, each with a following of several hundred men, to act as Governors of the provinces, independently of the Viceroy. In this they had been too clever, as it was the Beys who had repudiated the authority of Constantinople and had for centuries treated Egypt as a flight of vultures would have treated the carcass of a dead horse.

These Mamelukes formed a caste apart, dating from the time of Saladin. They were fair-skinned, often blue-eyed, Circassians, hand-picked as the handsomest and fittest small boys in the Caucasus, bought as slaves and shipped to Egypt. There they were brought up under the strictest discipline, and in ignorance of their origin, to the profession of arms. Each Bey owned five or six hundred of them, and each Mameluke had two native Copts to groom his horses and care for his weapons. They lived in camps and had no relations with the population, other than to plunder it at the order of their masters. They were magnificently equipped, the finest horsemen in the world and lived only for fighting. The Beys were far stronger than the Turkish garrison; so they treated the Sultan's officials with contempt, while terrorizing the Arabs and the wretched Copts who formed the greater part of the population. Often they fought among themselves for the control of greater areas of territory; and at this time two of them wielded authority over all the others. The elder, Ibrahim Bey, was crafty and powerful; his rival, Murad Bey, was valiant and ambitious.

So eager was Bonaparte to continue his conquest of the country that the remainder of his men, with the guns and horses he had brought, having been landed at Marabout on July 2nd, on the night of the 3rd he despatched Desaix's Division to Rahmaniyeh, about thirty miles up the Rosetta mouth of the Nile to act as advance guard of the Army. Any other General would have sent them up to the coast to Rosetta, then along the inhabited banks of the river, but that would have meant their marching nearly double the distance. So impatient was he that he ordered Desaix to head straight across the desert and Reynier's Division to follow the next day. On that day, too, he ordered Menou to march up the coast, capture Rosetta, form a flotilla there and proceed up the Nile to rendezvous with Desaix at Rahmaniyeh. On the 6th, having completed his arrangements in Alexandria, he left the wounded Kleber in command of three thousand men to garrison the city and himself led the rest of the Army along the desert trail that the gallant Desaix had blazed.

During the next few days Roger's worst forebodings were nearly realized. The reports already sent back by Desaix were harrowing. Scorched and blistered, his weary men were staggering across miles of shifting sands. They had met with no serious opposition, so it was evident that the Mameluke strategy was to draw them as far as possible into the desert before attacking; but during the march they were constantly pestered by Bedouin, who skirted the flanks and rear of the column, occasionally firing at it and falling upon and butchering all stragglers.

Fear of these Arabs was the main factor that kept the column together, for the suffering of the men from thirst was terrible and, as discipline had gone to pieces, small parties of them would have blundered off in all directions in a desperate search for water. Every well they came to had been filled in with sand by the Arabs, and even when they had frantically cleared away the sand there was not enough water in the holes to quench the thirst of more than a few dozen of them. Reynier's Division, following a day's march behind, suffered even worse, for on arriving at well after well they found them completely dry.

On the 7th both Divisions reached Damanhtir. They had been told that it was one of the largest towns in Lower Egypt, but found it to be only a huddle of tumble-down houses and mud huts, enclosed with walls that were falling to pieces. There was not sufficient food in the place to be worth commandeering, and they had nearly exhausted the hard biscuit they had brought with them from Alexandria. Almost at the end of their tether, they took such consolation as they could from the small ration of water that was available and the palm and pomegranate groves outside the town, which provided the first blissful shade they had encountered since starting on their terrible march.

The General-in-Chief caught up with them there on the following day, and the march of the other Divisions which accompanied him had been no less gruelling. Their route had lain along a canal dating from the Roman occupation. Having been abandoned for fifteen hundred years it was now no more than a series of elongated depressions, which filled with water each year only when the Nile flooded. As that took place in August or September, and this was July, the very little water left in it lay in small, stagnant pools, overgrown with moss and alive with horrible insects. In spite of that, every time the men sighted one of these greenish patches they rushed down to it and fought among themselves for the temporary relief afforded to those who succeeded in getting their mouths into the brackish filth and sucking it up.

There were water and cooks* carts with the Headquarters Staff, but after the first day there was nothing to cook; so the Staff also had to make do on hard biscuit. Bonaparte, ever a father to his men, kept his officers on an absolute minimum of water, so that all that could be spared should be given to wounded or ailing soldiers.

Roger survived this nightmare trek in better shape than the others. Knowing what he might be in for, he had abandoned all his belongings except his weapons, so that he could take a dozen water-bottles with him. Yet even so he suffered grievously, as from dawn to dusk there was no protection from the blazing sun, and he drank only sparingly so that he might share his wealth in water with the worst stricken among his companions.

At Damanhur they learned that Desaix had met with another form of misfortune. In the desert at night there had been nothing to which to tether the horses. A sentry had panicked and had fired at what he believed to be Arabs, with the result that most of the horses had bolted and in the pitch darkness it had proved impossible to recapture them.

By this time the troops, who had been told that Egypt was * more fertile than the plain of Lombardy \ and had been promised six acres per man, were verging on mutiny. The officers, too, who had become accustomed to rich living, openly showed sympathy with them. Bonaparte was accused, even within his hearing, of having wilfully deceived them and led them to their destruction. Lannes and Murat, of all people, actually threw their Generals' hats on the ground and stamped upon them in their fury of disillusion and despair.

Yet the little Corsican rode out the storm. He was the only man in his Army who appeared unaffected by the terrible heat. Wearing the green uniform of his Guides, buttoned up to the chin, he walked as often as he rode. To every complaint, whether from officers or men, he made a swift, tart rejoinder, abusing them roundly for lack of faith, lack of stamina, lack of courage. His thin, bony frame rigid with indignation at their grumbling, his enormously broad jaw thrust out in unshakable determination, he forced them, by sheer will-power, to continue onward across the burning sands.

There followed two more appalling days, during which the main Army, now about, thirty thousand strong, continued to stagger across the desert. Their only food now a few handfuls of corn per man, acquired in Damanhur, and water was absolutely unobtainable, except for the few who carried a small hoarded supply. It had become literally worth its weight in gold, and the richer of the sufferers were offering those who had it a louis d'or for a small tin cupful.

The Bedouin continued to harass the column from its flanks and frustration added to the torments of the troops, for there was no ammunition apart from what each man carried, and that had to be husbanded against a pitched battle with the Mamelukes, so they were under strict orders not to return the Arabs' fire. Now and again men screamed with agony as they were stung by scorpions and a number of the weaker actually died of thirst or sunstroke.

At last, parched, blistered, their skin drawn taut over their cheek-bones and their eyes starting from their heads, they reached Rahmaniyeh and the Nile. Croaking and delirious, they swarmed down the bank to lap up the blessed water; some flung themselves fully clothed into the river and were drowned.

For a few days Bonaparte allowed the Army to rest at Rahmaniyeh. While there, its lot was somewhat ameliorated by limitless water and great quantities of both luscious water-melons and wheat, although there were no mills to grind the corn into flour. On the 13th, learning that the Mamelukes were massing further up the river, Bonaparte ordered a resumption of the march. On the following day they reached the village of Chebrei'ss.

There the Army had its first serious encounter with the enemy. Murad Bey had assembled some three thousand of his cavalry on the left bank of the river up which Bonaparte was advancing. The Bey had also posted forces of his auxiliaries on both banks and had brought seven Turkish gunboats down from Cairo. The French flotilla, that had come up from Rosetta under a naval officer named Perree, had on board, in addition to the unmounted cavalry, all the non-military personnel, and had been ordered to keep pace with the march of the troops on land. However it got too far ahead, so was first in contacting the enemy, and was so roughly handled by the Turkish gunboats that it was forced to retreat.

Bonaparte then arrived on the scene with his five Divisions. Each was marching in a square, with infantry six deep on all sides, the artillery at the corners and such mounted men as there were in the centre. As the Mamelukes drew near, the squares halted in positions enabling them to support one another by flanking fire. In great clouds of dust, yelling like fiends, Murad's splendid cavalry charged the squares, first discharging their pistols, then waving aloft their flashing scimitars. But the disciplined fire of the French was a thing they had never before met. Many of them went down in the first charge, the remainder rode round the squares in confusion, small bodies of them attacking again and again with great bravery; but they were driven off and, after this one bloody encounter, they retired into the desert, having lost over three hundred men.

The French were greatly heartened, for they had withstood the terrible onslaught yet sustained very few casualties. But when the march was again resumed a renewal of their hardships caused fresh outbreaks of discontent. It began to be generally said that Bonaparte had allowed himself to be made a fool of by the Directors; that they had fired his imagination with lying tales about the riches of Egypt, in order to get rid of him; that the fabled Cairo did not exist, except perhaps as a collection of mud huts.

Now that they were marching up the bank of the Nile at least there was no shortage of water, and they could cool their weary bodies each evening by bathing in the river when the column halted. But the more water they drank the more they sweated, so that the dye from their uniforms began to stain their skins. Food for such numbers also continued to be a terrible problem, for meat was almost unobtainable and melons gave no sustenance. The only thing procurable in quantity was wheat, but there were neither mills to grind it nor ovens to bake it into bread; so they were reduced to pounding the grain on stones with their musket butts, making a mash by adding a little water and chewing the resulting uncooked mess.

The sands they trod seemed red hot. Out of a brassy sky the sun blazed down on their backs, myriads of flies appeared from nowhere and crawled over their sweating faces, the dust raised by thousands of marching feet choked and blinded them. Roger cursed the name of Talleyrand for having caused him to come on this ghastly expedition; the rest of the Army cursed that of Bonaparte.

On July 21st, after seten consecutive days of tramping through this living hell, they came in sight of the minarets of Cairo and the Pyramids. The city lay on the opposite bank of the river, the Pyramids some miles ahead of them and a little to the right. Between them and the triangular man-made mountains of stone lay Embabeh, a village that had been converted by the Mamelukes into a great, entrenched camp that ran down to the river bank. There, Murad Bey had mustered his whole force to give battle.

His rival, the crafty Ibrahim, had assembled his legions on the city side of the river. Later he said that he had expected the French to attack up both banks, but it was thought possible that he had hoped that Murad's men and Bonaparte's would each destroy so many of the others that he would become master of the situation without having fired a shot.

Nevertheless, even without his jealous compatriot, Murad's force was truly formidable. It consisted of not fewer than ten thousand Mameluke cavalry, their twenty thousand Coptic helots and several thousand Arab auxiliaries. In addition the Turkish Viceroy, refusing to believe Bonaparte's declaration that he had come to Egypt as the Sultan's friend only to oust the Mamelukes, had sent his Janissaries to Murad's aid.

The seething mass of helots had been armed and, twenty deep, formed a living barrier behind the shallow earthworks that had been thrown up in front of the village. At frequent intervals along the line were cannon, brought out from the city and manned by the Turks. The Arabs, on their racing camels, were stationed on the inland flank with their backs towards the Pyramids, ready to come in and massacre the wounded. In the centre, a mile-long host of the Mamelukes—the lineal descendants of Saladin's chivalry who had driven the Crusaders from the Holy Land— cavorted on their splendid Arab steeds, their bronze casques, scimitars and rich equipment glittering in the sun. Each man was armed with a pair of pistols and a dagger in his girdle, a second pair of pistols in his saddle holsters, a battle-axe hanging from the saddle and a scimitar ground to such sharpness that it would cut a thread of silk.

The five Divisions of the French Army again advanced in squares. That of Desaix on the extreme right faced the Pyramids. Then came Reynier's; Dugua's was in the centre and those of Vial and Bon were opposite Embabeh. The General-in-Chief and his Staff occupied the middle of the centre square. Galloping up and down, his eyes flashing with the light of battle, Bonaparte strengthened the morale of his troops by crying to them, ^' Soldiers! Remember that from the summit of the Pyramids forty centuries look down upon you.'

While still out of cannon shot he then surveyed the enemy's positions through his telescope. Noting that the Turkish guns were fortress pieces without wheels, so could not be manoeuvred during the battle, he temporarily held back his left and ordered his right to advance, with the object of outflanking Murad and driving his cavalry back so that it should mask the Turkish cannon. Desaix's Division, supported by Reynier's, went forward at the quick step towards a cluster of palm trees with some mud huts among them. But Murad proved no mean opponent. Realizing Bonaparte's intention, he launched eight thousand of his cavalry upon the right flank of the French Army. Next moment the ground shook to the hunder of thirty-two thousand hoof-beats.

Officers who were there that day and lived to fight through all Napoleon's campaigns afterwards declared that no cavalry charge before or since ever equalled the onslaught of the Mamelukes. The belief that those who die in battle go straight to the delights of Allah's Paradise made them completely fearless. Although the foremost fell by the hundred, mown down by the musket balls and grape-shot from the guns of the French, the following ranks leapt their horses over the great swathe of dead and dying and flung their mounts and themselves upon the squares. They gave no quarter and expected none. Yet their valour was in vain. The French stood firm and neither square broke.

As the survivors wheeled away Desaix and Reynier advanced to carry out the turning movement. Bonaparte then ordered Vial and Bon to attack the entrenchments. Elated by their comrades' heroic stand, the two Divisions formed column and streamed forward cheering wildly. The Turkish cannon were old and ill-aimed, several of them blew up. The enormous rabble of helots, the majority of whom were armed only with spears, flails and billhooks, read death in the fierce faces of the veterans of Italy. Flinging down their weapons, they fled. There ensued a massacre. Many of the remaining Mamelukes were driven in upon the terrified helots and, rather than surrender, at least a thousand of them rode their horses straight into the river where, weighed down by their heavy equipment, they were drowned.

The Battle of the Pyramids lasted barely half an hour. During it Bonaparte had sat his horse impassively in the centre of the square formed by Dugua's Division. He had not found it necessary to employ it. Not a man in it had done more than fire a few shots.

The loot collected from the corpses on the battlefield was enormous. The scimitars and daggers of the Mamelukes were beautifully chased and inlaid with gold, while many were set with precious stones. Their casques, girdles and the harness of their horses were also embellished with gems, and their pistols had silver barrels. As a protection against sabre cuts, each man was wrapped in layer after layer of rich silk shawls and, as they always carried their wealth with them, there were, in their saddlebags, purses containing anything up to three hundred gold pieces. The French despoiled such dead as were to be seen and then for days afterwards fished in the river with stout hooks to draw up other bodies, for it was reckoned that on average the equipment of a Mameluke was worth ten thousand francs.

Bonaparte was naturally pleased that after the demands he had made on his men they should reap this rich reward, but he was even more pleased at the capture of many hundred magnificent horses on which to mount his cavalry, and about the same number of camels which would be useful for a baggage train. His casualties, too, had been amazingly light. Owing to the squares having held, only thirty men had been killed and some three hundred wounded.

The gallant Murad Bey had been wounded in the face but had succeeded in getting away a part of his Army, although their numbers were insufficient to menace the French further for the time being. Ibrahim Bey's force was still intact on the other side of the river and at present Bonaparte had not the means to cross it; so he decided to encamp at Ghizeh. There he occupied Murad's country house, a delightful airy mansion in which his Staff were surprised to find divans and scores of cushions covered in the finest damasks and silk from Lyons. In the cool of the evening they celebrated their victory in the beautiful garden which was planted with many ornamental trees and with vine-covered arbours on which hung grapes as fine as they had ever seen.

Meanwhile in Cairo anarchy had broken out. Ibrahim Bey, having no mind that his force should suffer the fate of Murad's, decided to retire towards Syria, and the Turkish Viceroy fled with him. Upon this the long-oppressed Copts streamed out of the slums and set about attacking the palaces and houses of the rich. Unlike Alexandria and the towns the French had so far seen, Cairo was a city with a population of three hundred thousand. Living there were hundreds of wealthy merchants of many nationalities, who owned fine mansions, big harems and scores of slaves. Finding themselves in peril of their lives, many of them mounted on camels and, with their households and most valuable possessions, endeavoured to escape the mobs by leaving the city. Others barricaded themselves in their houses and, with their retainers, strove to defend them. There ensued a night of terror, looting, rape and murder.

The following day the subordinate Pasha—left behind without instructions by the Turkish Viceroy—the leading European merchants and the Sheiks of the Mosque of Jamil-Ayer met together and agreed to save themselves by entering into negotiations with the French. Bonaparte, delighted to acquire the city without having to fight for it, received most graciously the deputation they sent to him, and terms of surrender were quickly agreed.

A number of boats were procured and on the 23rd General Dupuy was sent across the river with half a Brigade, to accept the formal surrender of the city. Roger accompanied him. He found the palaces of both Ibrahim and Murad had been partially looted and, considering the latter the finer of the two, he took possession of it for the General-in-Chief. With him he had brought the soldier who had acted as his servant since leaving Toulon, a cheerful young Provencal named Jean Marbois. Together they then looked round for accommodation that would suit Roger, should Bonaparte decide to make Cairo his headquarters for some time.

In a nearby street they found a pleasant but unpretentious three-storey house. The owner, an Arab merchant, had fled and his four servants were making merry there. Roger informed them sharply that he intended to occupy it and would employ them at the wage they had been receiving, but if they left the place he would have them hunted down and thrown into prison. Then he left Marbois in charge and returned across the river to make his report.

On the 25th Bonaparte entered Cairo and took up his residence in Murad's palace with Bourrienne, Duroc, Eugene de Beau-harnais and several other members of his Staff. Meanwhile, Lannes had arranged suitable, accommodation for the other senior officers and for billeting the troops in the now-empty barracks of the Janissaries and other large buildings.

As Cairo had surrendered it had, by the laws of war, escaped the horror of being given over to the troops to sack. Moreover, Bonaparte was most anxious to conciliate the Mohammedan citizens so he had ordained that their mosques, religious customs and their own laws were to be respected. All the same, to instil fear into any of the inhabitants who might be tempted to question the status of the French as their masters, in the principal square he had the heads lopped off of a score of those who had shown themselves to be unwilling hosts, and declared that, after all his soldiers had been through, it would be unreasonable to put too severe a restraint upon their enjoying a fair degree of licence during their first few nights in Cairo.

It was on the second evening of the occupation, the 26th, after Roger had supped at the General-in-Chief's headquarters and was strolling back to the house he had taken over for himself, that he heard screams coming from a cul-de-sac, the entrance of which he was about to pass. There was nothing particularly arresting in that; for, although the troops were not allowed to break into houses, no restraint was put upon them with regard to any women they might come upon in the streets. Ordinarily he would have taken no notice and walked on, but it suddenly impinged on his mind that the woman who was being assaulted was shouting for help in French.

Quickening his pace, he turned into the cul-de-sac and strode swiftly down it. Fixed in the wall at its far end there was a lantern; beneath it was a struggling group of six men and two women. Hurrying towards them, he cried loudly:

'Hi! what goes on here? '

Momentarily the struggle ceased. The men turned and scowled at him. One of the women, taking advantage of their attention being temporarily diverted, tore herself from the grasp of the man who was holding her. Before she could run two steps the man grabbed her by the hair and pulled her back. In her attempt to escape she had swung round face to face with Roger, and he found himself staring at one of the most beautiful young women he had ever seen in his life.

Love at First Sight

The girl—for Roger judged her to be not more than seventeen— was swathed from chin to feet in voluminous black garments that gave her the appearance of a bundle, so it was impossible to get any idea of her figure; but her hood had been ripped from her head and her yashmak from her face, so that the light from the lantern showed her features clearly.

They were, at the moment, distorted by pain from her having been brought up short by the soldier's violent tug on her hair. It had come uncoiled and now showed as a dark mass at the back of her neck, framing her tight-stretched throat and upturned face. Her forehead was low but broad, the hair growing down in a widow's peak. Her eyebrows resembled the wings of a sea-gull curving gently upwards at the ends. Her eyes, now wide from fear and pain, were enormous and fringed by dark, curling lashes. Her mouth, too, was open from the gasp she had given, revealing two rows of even, shining teeth. Her cheek-bones were high and her chin rounded, with a cleft in the middle. Below it her throat was a firm, slender column, disappearing into the folds of her shapeless garments.

Roger drew in his breath, then said sharply to the man who was holding her, ^' Let go this woman's hair. You're hurting her.'

With a sullen look, the soldier obeyed. The girl instantly made to dart off up the alley, but a Sergeant who was standing near her grabbed her arm, pulled her back and growled, ^' Not so fast, my pretty.' Then he turned to Roger and said in a belligerent voice:

^' We're not on duty now, Colonel. You'd best mind your own business and leave us be.'

Roger knew then that if he meant to rescue the girl he was going to have his work cut out. The Sergeant and at least three of the other five men he judged to be veterans of the Italian campaign. There the troops had been allowed full licence on scores of occasions, to loot and rape at will when they had captured cities, towns and villages. Husbands who had endeavoured to protect their wives, or fathers their daughters, had often been beaten insensible or even killed, but no disciplinary action had been taken. Many of the men were ex-sans-culottes who clung tenaciously to the doctrines of the Revolution. They would obey their officers in all matters to do with war, but treated them as equals on other occasions. None the less, he replied firmly:

^' It is my business. The General-in-Chief has given strict instructions that the inhabitants of the city are to be treated with respect.'

The Sergeant sniffed. ^' Yes. No breaking into houses; that's the order. And a bloody shame it is, seeing what we've been through this past month. But you can't tell me the ^'' Little Corporal" means to deprive us of any woman we can get our hands on.'

Roger had no doubt at all that the Sergeant was right about that. As happened with seaborne expeditions sent out by every country, the sailors had managed to smuggle a few molls on to each ship; but Bonaparte had cut down ruthlessly on camp-followers, and only a small part of the Army had, for a few days, actually occupied Alexandria, so it was getting on for three months since the great majority of the men had had any commerce with women. As it was every General's business to keep his men as contented as possible, and as Bonaparte himself was far from being a puritan, Roger felt certain that the declaration about the troops being allowed a fair degree of licence would cover their taking, by force if necessary, such women as they could find in the brothels, streets and other public places. Even so, he proceeded to argue the point and said:

^' That's all very well. Ordinarily I would not think of interfering with you; but this girl is no woman of the streets. I heard—'

^' Who cares what she is, or this one either? ' cried a be-whiskered giant who was holding the other bundle of black garments against his chest by an arm crooked round the front of her neck. 'They're women and ours by right of capture. That's all that matters.'

Ignoring the man's insolence, Roger replied quickly, ^'1 was about to say that I heard one of them call for help in French.'

* Us, too; and all the better,' interrupted the Sergeant. ^' It was this one here. When she's danced a jig on her back for us we'll make her sing us a song.'

Suddenly the girl he was holding burst out in a husky voice to Roger, ^'1 am French! My father is a French merchant! Monsieur, I implore you to save us from these men and take me and my maid to his house.'

'There! ' Roger declared triumphantly. ^'You heard what she said. She is a Frenchwoman. I refuse to stand by and let you treat her as though she were an Arab street-walker.'

^' Then do the other thing,' retorted the Sergeant roughly. ^' Stop acting like a creeping Jesus instead of one of our Colonels, and get out.'

For a moment Roger was silent. He was one of the finest swordsmen in that Army of fine swordsmen. Had there been only two, or even three, of them, he would have whipped out his blade and scared them into submission by swiftly pinking them in the arm or leg, while threatening worse if they dare attack him. But six men could not lightly be wounded by one in a matter of a few seconds. If all six of them set on him simultaneously it was certain that he would be overcome and, perhaps, seriously wounded.

An alternative was to endeavour to attract the attention of one of the squads that had been ordered to patrol the streets as a protection against looting. But the nearest might be half a mile away and, even if his shouts were heard and a patrol arrived on the scene, there was no legitimate charge upon which he could have the Sergeant and his cullies arrested. Only at a direct order from one of their own officers, if he could be persuaded to give it, were they likely to release the two women.

As Roger gazed at the beautiful, anxious face within a yard of his own he decided that anything was worth trying. Expecting that the men meant to take their captives back to their barracks, he asked, ^' Where are you quartered? '

The Sergeant jerked a thumb over his shoulder at a small, dark house behind him. ^' Why, here. It's empty. There's not a stick of furniture in it. But they say the Army will be in Cairo for a while, and when we come on it this afternoon I thought it would make a better home from home for me and my mates than the lousy stable we'd been given; so I got my officer's permission for us to occupy it.'

' Come on! ' growled the bewhiskered giant. ^' Let's get moving. With all this argument we're wasting half the night.' Then he began to push the woman he was holding towards the rickety door of the house.

^' One moment! ' cried Roger. ^' One moment! ' Yet he could not think of anything more to say. He was now wondering desperately if he could possibly overcome them by a sudden attack without becoming liable for the death of one of them or being struck down himself.

His reluctance either to fight or quit showed in his expression. Noticing it a young, snub-nosed soldier said with a laugh, ^' 'E can't bear to take 'is eyes off 'er, Sarge. Tell yer what 'is trouble is. 'E wants a go wiv her 'imself.'

The Sergeant shrugged and gave a grunt. ^' If that's the case, I've nothing against his taking his turn with us. We're all made the same, aren't we? Liberty, Equality and Fraternity. That's what we fought for in the Revolution and share and share alike has always been my motto. Although,' he added, somewhat illogically, ^' he'll have to pay us for letting him see the colour of her heels. How about it, Colonel? '

Seized with a sudden inspiration, Roger replied, 'You're right. I've taken a fancy to this girl. But I've no mind to have her on the bare boards in a hovel. I want her to myself in my own lodging, so I'll buy her from you.'

' No you won't,' growled a thick-set man who had not so far spoken. 'I haven't had a plum like her since I was a jailer at Nantes, way back in '93, and made a little Countess jig with me in prison before Carrier sent her to be drowned. The floor is good enough for us and it's good enough for you.'

'You shut your trap,' snapped the Sergeant, rounding on him. ' This might be good business. What'll you give for her, Colonel? '

Roger decided that a gold piece per man with something extra for the Sergeant should do the trick, so he said, 'Ten louis.'

The Sergeant spat. 'Then your luck's out. She's worth twenty times that. Just look at her, and think what she'll be like when you've got her clothes off.'

'All right. Twenty-five, then.'

' You're wasting my time, Colonel. When we've had our fill of her we'll bring the other lads along. Plenty of them will cough up ten francs a go to put her on her back. She'll earn us twice that in a week, and more.'

It had not occurred to Roger that they would force the girl to prostitute herself to every man who wanted her, but he now recalled hearing that some of the troops had done that with good-looking girls they had got hold of in Italy. And the Sergeant was right. Many of the men had pockets full of money, taken from the bodies of the Mamelukes. When the news got round that such a ravishing beauty was to be had they would queue up for her and she would be* lucky if she did not die from exhaustion.

'There's something in what you say,' he admitted reluctantly. ' But, remember, the General-in-Chief is not given to standing still. It's quite on the cards that you'll be ordered out of Cairo within a few days and you won't be allowed to take her with you. The odds are that you won't be here long enough for her to earn you more than twenty-five; but I want her, so I'll make it fifty.'

' Why should we sell her? ' growled the thick-set man, appealing to his companions. 'We've got money enough, Comrades, and what better could we buy with it than this wench? I'm for sending the Colonel about his business.'

Again the Sergeant rounded on him. 'Keep your big mouth shut, Vachot, or I'll shut it for you. We'll still have the other filly and one pair of girls' legs is as good as another in the dark.' Turning back to Roger, and now obviously delighting in his role of Oriental slave-dealer, he went on:

'Come now, Colonel. Fifty's not enough by half, and you know it.' Tears were now welling from the girl's eyes, and her head hung down; so he thrust a hand beneath her chin and turned up her lovely face. ' Just look at her! Why, she's fit meat for the " Little Corporal" himself, God bless him. I wouldn't be surprised if she was a Sultan's daughter. Yes, that's what she is, a Sultan's daughter. Must be from her looks and the rings we took off her fingers. Don't take no notice of what she said about her father being a French merchant. That's just eyewash because she's afraid we might ask a fortune for her ransom. She's an aristo' to her fingertips. Anyone could see that. But I'll let you have her for a hundred louis. Just think what a night you'll have with her. And maybe you could get your money back a hundredfold by returning her to the Sultan afterwards.'

Roger hesitated only a moment. Two of the others had muttered approval of Vachot's protest against relinquishing the girl for money. The sum was far more than he had meant to pay, but if he did not clinch the deal now he might still lose her. And apart from his natural unwillingness to abandon her to weeks of suffering at the hands of the brutal soldiery, he did not disguise from himself that the reason his heart was beating so quickly was because of his eagerness to have her for his own mistress.

^' Very well,' he said. ^' 111 pay your price. Wait here till I get out my money.'

Turning his back he walked a few paces away, undid the clothes about his middle and began to fish coins out of the pockets of his money-belt. Counting them as he did so, he stuffed them into the side pocket of his uniform coat. By the time he had transferred a hundred the weight of the belt was reduced by half; but that did not worry him, for he could draw more pay from Andreossi. Moreover in one of the pockets of the belt reposed a packet of small diamonds, some of which he could always sell in an emergency. Returning to the Sergeant, he counted the gold out into his eager hands under the light from the lantern.

The girl stood by, limp now, but her face expressed intense relief. When the counting was done she said to Roger in her husky voice, with the strange French accent, ^' May Allah bless you, my Lord, for ail your days, and give you many splendid sons as a reward for what you have done this night. But will you not also please buy my maid? For her, I feel sure, they would accept a far lower price.'

Knowing that even if he were willing to part with another considerable sum the men would never agree to give up altogether the night of licentiousness to which they were looking forward, he replied shortly, ^' No, I regret; but that cannot be done. Come now.'

As he took her by the arm and led her away down the cul-de-sac, the maid cried in Arabic, ^' Lady, I beg you not to forsake me.' But her plea was half drowned by the Sergeant and his men shouting after them, with much laughter, bawdy jests and obscene instructions on how they should spend the night.

When the shouts had died down Roger said, ^' I'm sorry about your maid; but our soldiers have been starved of women for many weeks, and they would never have let her go.'

The girl beside him shrugged. ^' No matter. She is country bred, strong and no longer a virgin; so she will come to little harm and may, perhaps, even enjoy herself. Had not my . . . my father bought her, she might well have been sold into a brothel.'

Her attitude struck Roger as, to say the least, unfeeling; but her looks had already so bewitched him that he was eager to make allowances for her view of life being very different from his own. Although she was light-skinned and spoke French fluently she had a marked accent, and the words with which she had thanked him for saving her had disclosed that she was a Muslim. Every Mohammedan of standing owned slaves, and he knew that many regarded them as little better than valuable cattle.

He had no time to ponder the matter further, for they had reached the entrance to the street and she made a move to turn left.

Tightening his grasp on her arm, he drew her back and said, ' That's not the way. We turn right here.'

^' It is the way to my home,' she replied. ^' Please escort me to it.'

Smiling down at her, Roger shook his head. ^' No, no; we are going to my lodging, and it lies in the opposite direction.'

For a moment she stared at him, then she said, ^' Just now you behaved like a true Effendi, with . . . what is the French word . . . yes, with chivalry. I beg you, do not now disappoint me. Take me to my home and . . . and if you wish you shall be well rewarded.'

^' The only reward for which I wish is your company,' he returned smoothly, ^' and that I can best enjoy in my own lodging.'

Her mouth hardened and her eyes darkened angrily. Suddenly, she attempted to pull away from him.

Jerking her back, he said sharply, ^'Stop that! No nonsense now! You will come with me quietly. If not I'll return you to the Sergeant and his men. I've not a doubt that they'd be willing to give me back half the money I paid for you.'

The threat had its effect. She wilted and obediently accompanied him. But she ignored several questions he asked her as they walked along, and maintained a sullen silence until they reached the house he had taken over.

Inside the entrance there was a small, open patio in the sunken centre of which a little fountain tinkled into a stone basin. Outside the July night was sweltering, but here it was reasonably cool. In the four corners of the patio there were low stools, piled with cushions. Motioning the girl to one of them, Roger took off his coat, mopped the sweat from his face with a handkerchief,

sat down on another stool and had a good look at her.

In the full light of the hanging lamps that had been left burning by the servants he saw that, although her hair was dark, her skin was even fairer than he had expected. Unlike so many women in the East it had not a single pock-mark, and her complexion was flawless. Her eyes were not black but tawny. There were traces of kohl under them but she must have rubbed most of it off in an absurd attempt to make herself less attractive, since the little that was left had been insufficient for her tears to cause it to run enough to disfigure her cheeks. As he studied the marvellous head that rose so incongruously from the black draperies, he thought, ^' Stap me, but that Sergeant was right. She looks every inch a Sultan's daughter. Although she isn't, no Commander of the Faithful could ever have had a lovelier one.' Then he said:

^' Mademoiselle—or perhaps I should address you as madame— to maintain this silence is stupid. I make no promise to return you to your father either now or later. But I'll not even consider doing so unless you tell me about yourself. What is your name? ' For a minute she regarded him speculatively with her enormous tawny eyes, then she answered. ^' Since you insist on knowing, Monsieur le Colonel, it is Zanthe. And I am unmarried.'

^' Well,' he smiled, ^' that is a start. Now, how did it come about that you were caught by those soldiers? '

^' As you must know,' she told him, ^' after the great battle on the other side of the Nile the mobs of Cairo swarmed out of their dens. The Janissaries who would have put them down had died fighting or had fled. There was no one to defend the mansions of the wealthy except the men of the households. Many were broken into and their inmates murdered. We succeeded in defending ours; but my ... my father feared that the riots would grow worse the following night, so it was decided that we should leave the city. By day things were fairly quiet; but unfortunately there were delays, owing to our wishing to take with us many valuable belongings. It was evening before we left, and the sun was setting behind the Pyramids. Near a village a few miles outside the city our caravan was attacked by marauding Arabs. There was a fight, my father was killed . . ^' Mademoiselle, I am truly sorry,' murmured Roger. She gave a little shrug. ^' It was the will of Allah. I feel no great grief for him. He was no longer young and was at times a very cruel man.'

^' What happened then? '

^' When they saw my father fall dead the men of our escort panicked and fled. All the other women of the seraglio were riding on camels, so I suppose they and the baggage were carried off by the Arabs. I was on horseback. Beside me Ali, my father's falconer, was riding with my maid mounted behind him. Ali seized my bridle and turned my horse. We galloped off and got away in the darkness. A few minutes later we found ourselves back in the village. Fearing to return to Cairo I decided to seek refuge there, and we were hidden by a farmer in his barn.

^' This morning I found that the French had entered Cairo and had restored order, so I thought it would be safe to go home. But shortly before we were about to set out a further misfortune befell us. A party of French soldiers arrived in the village. I hid again; but it was horses they were seeking and they took every animal they could find, including ours. Our only course was to walk. That is why we did not reach the city until after dark. When we got to my home we found it had been broken into and partly looted. I was very tired, so rested there for some time while Ali got us a meal. But with all the locks broken I feared to stay the night there, in case marauders returned to carry away more loot, and I decided to seek shelter with relatives. It was while on our way to ... to my uncle's house that we were attacked by the Sergeant and his men. They threw poor Ali down, beat and kicked him and left him, perhaps, dead. Then they dragged my maid and me down into that cul-de-sac where you found us.'

In the main her story had the ring of truth. During the French occupation of Venice no woman had been safe in the streets at night, even when accompanied by a man. Bonaparte's fierce troops had pitched many such Italian escorts into the canals; so Roger knew that the Sergeant would not have hesitated to set his men on the unfortunate Ali. Her account of her flight from Cairo also sounded highly plausible. Yet there were certain discrepancies in her story that he meant to plumb. For the moment, he said only:

^' You have certainly been through a terrible time these past few days, and particularly tonight. Although you rested and fed a few hours ago, no doubt you would like some refreshment.'

^'1 am not hungry, monsieur,' she replied, ^' but I would like something to drink, provided it is not wine.'

Leaving her, he went out to the back of the premises. The previous day he had led a party to find and purchase by order, at any price he chose to fix, various delicacies for the Headquarters Mess. In a few houses owned by rich Copts he had found cellars of wine and had had the bulk of them transported to Murad's palace. But he had reserved several dozen for himself, and he now opened a bottle of rich Kamiros wine from Rhodes. Then he hunted round until he found some sherbet for his guest.

As he handed her the sherbet he said, ^' Mademoiselle, from several things you have said, and your refusal of wine, it is clear to me that you are a Muslim. Yet you told me that you were the daughter of a French merchant. I find that strange.'

After hesitating a moment she replied, ^'1 said that because I thought it would carry more weight with you and those men. But it is my mother who is French and taught me that language.'

^' What happened to her? Was she captured by the Arabs with the other women? '

^' No, monsieur. Fortunately she was not in Cairo. She . . . she was divorced by my father and married again. She lives in ... in Syria.'

^' But as a Frenchwoman, your mother was surely a Catholic. And, even if repudiated by her husband, her faith would not permit her to remarry.'

Zanthe looked away quickly. ^' Things are different in Mohammedan countries. Everything was . . . well, arranged for her.'

Roger felt sure that his beautiful captive was lying, and not very cleverly, for she could quite well have said that her mother had become a Muslim. As he was wondering how best to get the truth out of her, she drank up her sherbet and said, ^'1 am tired now, and would like you to take me to a room where I can sleep.'

Nothing loath, Roger finished his glass of wine and stood up. ^' We will go upstairs then. This house is not large, but it is comfortably furnished, and I will leave nothing undone to assure you a sound sleep.'

Taking with him his glass and the bottle, which was still two-thirds full, he led her up to the best bedroom of the house. The two oil-lamps in it had been left burning by his servant, and shed a gentle glow round the room. Its main feature was a huge divan bed. Setting down his bottle and glass on a small Moorish table inlaid with ivory, he locked the door.

'What are you about? ' Zanth6 exclaimed, her eyes widening. ' You cannot remain here, monsieur! '

' Indeed I can,' he smiled. ' This is my bedroom.'

'Then you must take me to another.'

His smile deepened. ' That would not be hospitable. Since you have lived in a harem, you are not used to sleeping alone; so you might wake up in the night and be frightened, and this divan is more than big.enough for both of us.'

' I refuse! ' she cried. ' I refuse to sleep in the same room with you.'

' My beautiful Zanthe, I fear you have no choice. I am loath to remind you of it, but you are now a slave, bought and paid for by me, and you will henceforth do as I tell you, without argument.'

'Then . . . then, monsieur, I demand that you respect me.'

Roger made no direct reply, but asked her, ' How old are you? '

'I am seventeen.'

' Excellent. I guessed you were somewhere about that. And now I will tell you something. In Mohammedan countries no girl as beautiful as you remains unmarried after she is fifteen. She is a valuable chattel and her father sees to it that by giving her to one of his friends he forms a useful alliance for his family.'

' That . . . that is true in most cases. But I ... I am an exception. My father allowed me to remain unmarried because . . . because I am half French. I am still a virgin. You cannot-'

'Were that so, I might have scruples. But even in France all pretty girls are married at your age. As to your virginity, there is an easy way by which I can find out.'

'You would not dare! ' she gasped.

' I certainly would,' he retorted quickly. ' And I will tell you another matter on which I believe you lied to me. All you told me about your father really applied to your husband. Come now. Am I not right? And, remember, you are my prisoner. Tomorrow I can set enquiries going about you, and in a few days a description of anyone so beautiful as yourself is certain to reveal the truth.'

Her angry eyes fell before his. ' Well . . . yes. It seems I must admit it.'

He smiled again. ' You also said he was no longer young, and was at times cruel; so it is clear that you can have had little love for him. That is a relief to me, for I should be reluctant to force a widow of a few days who was grieving deeply for a much-loved husband.'

^' So you mean to force me! ' she flared.

^'1 trust not. Must I remind you that barely an hour ago I saved you from a most terrible ordeal at the hands of six ruffians, who would later have hired you out to scores of their comrades. Since you are a fully experienced woman, I should have thought you would be happy to reward me.'

^' You did only what any decent man would have done. It was Allah, blessed be the name of His Prophet, who saved me. The fate of every one of us is bound about his brow, and I was not born to be taken like an animal by any man who wants me.'

'Listen, madame,' Roger said earnestly. ^'It was no doubt the will of Allah that brought me, and no one else, to your rescue. Had you been some other woman the odds are that I would have left you with those men. But if one can fall in love at first sight then I did so with you. I am an officer on the Staff of the General-in-Chief, so I can protect you. And now that your husband is dead you need a protector. I am also rich enough to give you everything in reason that you want. While I remain in Cairo this pleasant little house will make a charming home for us. When I have to leave I will arrange with the Garrison Commander for a continuance of your protection. Other women have accounted me a good lover and a kind one. I do not threaten now, but beseech you. Will you not accept my homage, allow me to become your slave instead of your being mine, and grant me this night that which is now my dearest wish? '

Coming from as fine a man as Roger, it was a declaration that would have flattered any woman. Few, had they been under such an obligation as Zanth£ was, would have hardened their hearts against such an appeal. But she violently shook her head and cried:

^' No! No! No! Even if I believed all you said I would not be willing. To give myself to you would be to disgrace my blood. You are an enemy. Nobody believes the lies told by your General— that he has come here as the friend of Turkey and only to chastise the Mamelukes. We are not ignorant of what he did in Italy: of how he snared the people into believing that he was bringing them liberty, then trampled on them and robbed them of all they possessed. That is what he means to do here. He comes as a conqueror, to despoil our country and make us into slaves. And you, Monsieur le Colonel, have admitted to being on his Staff; so you must lend yourself willingly to the evil that he does. No! If it be my fate to be taken against my will I would rather it should be by an honest Arab bandit.'

Roger listened with amazement to her outburst. It had not occurred to him that she would regard him in such a light, and he was half inclined to think that she was making a show of patriotism only as another excuse for repulsing him. After a moment he said with a frown:

^' Madame, I fail to understand you. This is neither the time nor place for us to enter on a discussion of General Bonaparte's principles. At least no one can deny that he is a great soldier and that his victories have brought glory to France. Since you are half French one would expect you to be no less than neutral and have some admiration for him. But all this is irrelevant to our situation. I give not a damn how you feel on such matters. The night grows old and I have no mind to parley with you further. Under the age-old usages of war you are now mine, to do with as I will, and I have made clear my intentions. Oblige me by getting yourself undressed.'

Her tawny eyes flashed. 'I refuse! I refuse to display myself naked before you.'

^' About that we shall see,' he said grimly. Then he began to take off his clothes.

As he did so, he was thinking with distress of how the delightful visions he had had of what would happen when he got her up to the bedroom had been rudely shattered. An Eastern beauty of seventeen was the equivalent of a woman of twenty-five in Europe; so he had felt certain that she must have been married for some years. That being so, in view of what she owed him he had not expected to have any trouble with her. A becoming display of reluctance, no doubt, soon overcome by a little playful teasing. Then an acceptance of the will of Allah, followed by a sweet rhapsody of passion.

Instead he would now have to take her by force; and he had never had the least inclination for that sort of love-making for, to him, it robbed the act of the major part of its pleasure. He had taken a woman that way only once—the cynically promiscuous but beautiful Natalia Androvna—and then only to teach her a lesson for having given him a rendezvous and, instead of keeping it, having had him set upon and whipped for her amusement.

Yet he meant to take the lovely Zanthe. It was getting on for six months since he had parted from Georgina. He had lived with her only for six weeks and before that had endured a period of continence of ten months since the tragic death of Clarissa. As a very virile man his need for a woman was, therefore, great, and all the greater now that he had found one who satisfied his exceptionally high standards. He felt not the faintest scruple about the morality of the matter. He was doing no more and no less than hundreds of soldiers were doing that night in Cairo, and had done all over the world in conquered countries from time immemorial.

Having stripped to the buff, he slipped on a silk robe that he had bought the previous day, and poured himself another glass of wine, drank it off and advanced on Zanthe. She had been standing by the big divan with her back half turned, so as to avert her eyes from him while he was undressing. In a final effort to render her complaisant he said:

^' My very dear and beautiful Zanthe. Once more I beg you to be reasonable. As you have been married you know what to expect and have naught to fear. Your husband is dead and you had no love for him. As a woman of French extraction you cannot really regard me as an enemy. Were it not for me you would now be going through hell upon bare boards, under a succession of filthy, brutal ruffians, and-'

^'1 should not,' she cut him short. ^'1 should have killed myself.'

^' Oh, come! ' he protested.^' That is easier said than done; unless you have a swift poison on you.'

^' No! ' she cried. ^' With this! ' And, with a sudden movement, she whipped out a razor-sharp, jewel-hilted stiletto from under her black robes.

Roger took a swift pace back. ^'1 see!' he exclaimed. Then he laughed. ^' Now that gives me real pleasure. The fact that you are armed removes my last scruple about using force upon you. If you can protect yourself with that ugly weapon, even should you wound me seriously I will have you escorted to your home in the morning. If not you must submit to being ravished and delight in it, as did primitive woman with primitive man after he had fought with her and dragged her to his cave.'

Zanthe made no reply. She was breathing fast, but her eyes were now narrowed and fearless; and she held her dagger well back, ready to plunge it into him.

For a moment they eyed one another cautiously. Then he snatched up a cushion and threw it at her head. She ducked and glared at him. He laughed and threw another. Again, with an agile movement, she swayed her body sideways, so that it passed over her shoulder. Turning away he poured the last glass of wine from the bottle with leisurely inconsequence. Returning, he confronted her and said, still smiling, 'You enchanting little fool. It is quite futile for you to exert yourself.' Then he raised the glass to his lips and drank again.

Seizing the advantage he had given her by tilting back his head, she raised her dagger and, her eyes blazing at his provocation, leapt at him. But he was ready for her. Instantly his glass came down and he flung its remaining contents straight in her face. Temporarily blinded by the wine, her rush ended in a stumble. Dropping the glass, he seized in one hand the wrist that held the dagger, twisted it from her with the other and flung it behind him to the far end of the room.

As she reeled back, still blinded, he gave her a violent push, his mouth now set in a hard line. The backs of her knees came in sharp contact with the edge of the divan. Her feet shot from beneath her and she fell prostrate upon it. Next moment, ignoring her screams for help, his hands were tearing at her black garments, wrenching them off, to reveal first her bosom then her torso. Beneath her outer garments she was wearing a belt of gold net, set with precious stones, and a pair of voluminous red silk trousers, caught in at the ankles with gold bands. Holding her down with one hand, he tore those away with the other until she had not a vestige of clothing left on her.

For a moment he stood back while, panting and gasping, she tried to get the stinging wine out of her eyes by rubbing them with her knuckles. Staring down at her naked body he saw with delight that it was as perfect as her face. Her breasts were full and stood up proudly, her hips were beautifully rounded and her legs were longer in proportion to her body than those of the average woman.

'Now! ' he cried breathlessly. 'Now, will you give in? ' ' No! ' Her voice came in a hoarse shout. ' Never! Never! ' His response was to fling himself on her. For a few minutes she struggled wildly, endeavouring to claw his face and bite his

chin. But he jerked his head away and beat down her hands. Suddenly her body contracted beneath him and she gave a sharp scream. Then, just as suddenly, her limbs relaxed and she began to moan. He had often heard women moan like that and knew that it was from pleasure. Another few moments and she became as wild with passion as himself. Her arms came round him and clasped him in a vice. In Turkish she cried out some phrase to Allah that he could not interpret. Then it was all over.

Exhausted by their transports, they lay side by side, his arm encircling her neck. After a while she pulled away from him, turned her face to the wall and began to cry quietly. He knew the reason for her tears, and felt badly about them. In one thing, at least, she had not lied to him. She had, after all, proved to be a virgin. That accounted for the prolonged resistance she had put up, and it seemed evident now that her husband must have been a homosexual. But nothing could now undo what had been done and Roger endeavoured to comfort himself with the thought that she had suffered little by comparison with the fate that would have been hers at the hands of the men from whom he had rescued her. The dawn was already filtering through the curtains, and he fell asleep.

It seemed that he had scarcely closed his eyes when he was roused by Marbois knocking on the door. Bonaparte was an early riser and expected his Staff to be in attendance the moment he was ready to transact business. Roger would have given a great deal to have been able to remain, comfort Zanthd with sweet words and, perhaps, make love to her again. But he dared not linger. She was lying on her side in a deep sleep; so he crept out from under the light coverlet he had pulled over them before going to sleep, dressed very quietly and left the room, locking the door behind him.

Downstairs he drank the coffee that the servants had prepared for him, and ravenously demolished a plateful of sweet cakes. Then he called for Marbois and said to him, 'I brought a lady home with me last night. She is up in the bedroom still asleep. Do not disturb her; but wait till she calls, then take her up anything she may ask for to break her fast. But on no account is she to be allowed to leave the bedroom or speak to the native servants. Keep her locked in, and I'll be back as soon as I can.' Buckling on his sword, he hurried round to headquarters.

For an hour he stood about with several of the other aides-decamp in the ante-chamber, then Bonaparte asked for him. After giving him one swift glance, his master proceeded to stuff some sheets of paper, covered with close writing, into a thick envelope and seal it while he said:

^' I have already sent a despatch to the Directors, describing the Battle of the Pyramids. This is another, reporting my occupation of Cairo. I have selected you to carry it because, as you speak Arabic, you should meet fewer impediments to speed in the towns and villages through which you must pass. I have, several times, already pointed out to Admiral Brueys the folly of risking an encounter with the British Fleet by remaining on the Egyptian coast, and have urged him to seek safety by returning to Toulon; or, at least, under the guns of Malta. I hope that by the time you reach Alexandria you will find that he has sailed. If so, he will have left several frigates there to carry despatches to France. In that case, give the despatch to the Captain of one of them and tell him to have it forwarded with all speed from the first port under French control that he can reach. Should Brueys still be loitering there, give it to him and tell him from me to delay no longer but be gone. Take any escort you desire and leave immediately.'

^' Mon General, you may rely upon me,' replied Roger promptly. Then he took the despatch, saluted smartly and, with rage in his heart, marched from the room.