Memory of Flames

CHAPTER 9

THEY reached the heart of the Saint-Marcel district. Varencourt was walking briskly, obliging Margont to fall in behind him, and grabbing his arm at regular intervals to make sure he followed him down a little side street, before setting off in a different direction again. Margont was lost but did not dare ask any questions. A door opened on their right and they dived into a house. There was no light inside and Margont felt as if he had been swallowed by the dark maw of a Leviathan. His silhouette, however, seemed to have been left framed in the doorway, backlit by an oil lamp. Someone bounded up behind him and held a knife to his throat. With his left hand, his attacker seized Margont’s right wrist to stop him trying to free himself or reaching for a weapon. The door shut again.

‘You are a spy, Monsieur,’ said someone in front of him.

Margont was terrified and waited in vain for a candle to be lit.

‘Our friend Monsieur de Varencourt has told us about you, but as

he admits himself, he barely knows you,’ the stranger went on. ‘So we’re going to ask you some questions. Depending how you answer, we might be able to spare your life ...’

The voice belonged to a man accustomed to being in charge. The intonation, rhythm and phrases were designed to command, to destabilise and to let Margont know his lies would be flushed out. The words uttered by the voice pierced straight through him.

‘I can’t see anything ...’ stammered Margont.

‘You’ll be able to see even less when I’ve cut your throat,’ murmured the man holding him.

‘You say that you own a printing press ...’

‘It’s the truth!’

‘That’s just the problem. The Tyrant is cunning, and he controls everything that’s published. You claim to be one of us but you have a printing press? These places are watched by the Director of Printing and Bookselling, but also by the police. There are some policemen whose sole task is to control printing, books and newspapers! And yet you want us to believe you’ve deceived them all?

Absurd! We’ve had you followed. Admittedly it wasn’t easy. It’s true that you do have access to a printing press, Imperial Press, but all that proves is that you have the protection of the police.’ Margont wondered if Charles de Varencourt had sold him out. But it was too late to ask him. He could not retreat; he would just have to press on with his role. And with bravado! ‘If Napoleon takes so much care to—’

‘Bonaparte! The coronation of 1804 is not legitimate! Napoleon does not exist!’

All right ... If Bonaparte takes so much care to control the printed word, it’s because it’s his weak point. And that’s just where we should strike him! A friend of mine who’s a duellist taught me that way of fighting.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I don’t doubt Bonaparte’s military talent. It would be difficult to defeat him on the battlefield. Unless he had no more army left! So we have to convince the French to abandon him.’

‘Interesting. But you didn’t answer my question.’

It was so dark that Margont could not even make out the outlines of anyone there, and he could not accommodate what he was saying to the expressions on people’s faces or to their demeanour. He had to rely on that over-confident, arrogant, domineering voice, with its ironic intonations. He was on the edge of a cliff and about to be thrown into the void. But his survival instinct had always been strong. Even with a knife at his throat, he refused to give up.

‘I served for several years in the Grande Armée. Like many other gentlemen. After I was wounded, I had to return to civilian life. I devoted all my efforts to obtaining authorisation to acquire a printing works. As I had distinguished myself during the Russian campaign, several officers were willing to vouch for me. I had to grease some palms as well but eventually my tenacity paid off. Oh, there are certainly one or two employees who spy on me for the police. But gradually the police have ceased to suspect me, so for a long time now I have felt quite safe. In the end they put my years of emigration in Edinburgh down to a youthful error. Do you know how the praying mantis captures its victims? It moves so slowly that its movements are imperceptible to the insects it preys on. It’s only when it is very close that it suddenly strikes the fatal blow.

I have overlooked nothing. I returned to France in 1802 and, for all those years since, I have inexorably, step by step, put my plan into action. I have found out all about printing and I have acquired a print shop. It took twelve years of effort! The imperial police don’t pursue things for that long, I can tell you.’

‘How long have you had the print shop?’

‘For a year. I must emphasise that I am only an associate, but my partner knows nothing about my real intentions. Until recently, I practically never went there. Had I showed up there too often, the police would have become suspicious. All I did was spend the meagre profits when we were lucky enough to have any. But I go there much more often now. The situation is more favourable to us. It’s time for us to take action!’

‘What is it that you want?’

Two things. The return of the King!’

He stopped talking. The man with the knife pressed harder with his blade. But paradoxically Margont drew strength from the gesture.

‘Well? What’s the second thing?’ insisted the leader.

The gratitude of the King ‘What insolence!’

“‘Audacity, more audacity, always audacity!”’ replied Margont, quoting Danton, one of the most hated revolutionaries. That might have seemed a suicidal tactic, but he was trying to lead the discussion in an unexpected direction and catch the men off guard. He would probably die if he were to try to beat them at their own game, so he was making up his own rules.

No one answered him so he went on: ‘Before the Revolution, my family lived peacefully on its lands. But I knew that life for only a few years. Then I had everything thrown at me. My family was massacred and our chateau burnt; I was forced to wander from place to place ... I was very young when I emigrated to Scotland. I planned to return to my homeland as an officer, with other royalist emigres and an English army. The English held out the prospect of that dream, but they never fulfilled it. It was too risky, too expensive ... And although they did want to see their old enemy brought to its knees, they never really trusted us. They were still annoyed with us for having resisted them so fiercely in Quebec and partly blamed us for the loss of their American colonies ... In Edinburgh,

I lived in terrible conditions. So because I was sick of never having enough to eat, and of being treated like an undesirable, I took advantage of the great amnesty of 1802. Like many others I returned to my country, swore an oath in front of a prefect and here I am. I was pardoned for having been an emigre, as if I had committed a crime! I enlisted in the Grande Armée because I had no other means of supporting myself. I even envisaged serving the Empire, I admit. I wanted to become a general. But that dream also went up in smoke. I have found my roots again and I want the King to be restored to the throne. However, 111 be frank, I would like to be rewarded for my services.’

‘You’re a mercenary!’

‘Yes, but a mercenary for the King! What is wrong with wanting to rebuild the ruins of my family chateau? I want to have the life I lived before; I want the life I had before the Revolution!’

Even in the inky darkness Margont could tell that his argument had struck home. His adversary had taken a blow, and Margont would have to follow up his counterattack before his opponent had time to regroup. ‘It would be wrong to think that Bonaparte can’t win again!’ he exclaimed. The fellow has more lives than a cat! He was said to be finished in 1805 but then there was Austerlitz, done for in 1806, but then there was Jena. He was crushed at Essling in 1809 ^and then went on to win at Wagram. The King needs help! Against Bonaparte, but also against the Allies! Bernadotte is not content just with Sweden, he wants to become King of France! And what if the Tsar or the Emperor of Austria accepts a compromise and proposes to leave Napoleon his throne? Or if they decide to organise a regency until the King of Rome is of an age to govern and become Napoleon II? No! If the Allies feel that the French are abandoning Bonaparte they will fight to the

bitter end. And, if we, the noblemen of France, are indisputably linked with the victory, we can ensure that Louis XVIII will prevail!'

‘I don’t like you, Monsieur, but you’re not lacking in courage/

And we need courage! We need to stir up the French! But for that, they have to be able to hear us. Let’s blanket Paris with posters!’ ‘Why do you need us?’

‘I can’t act on my own. When I print my proclamations, it will be at night, in secret. I’ll need accomplices to keep watch, then to put the posters up. Besides, we will need to do more than that to make an impression. I think you yourselves have some ideas for action. So in conclusion, I ... I ... um ...’

‘In conclusion?’

‘Well, I’m not sure how to put this without annoying you. I would like to do all I can for the King ... but I have never met him and I don’t want my services to go unnoticed.’

‘You want us to put in a good word for you with His Majesty?’ the stranger asked, stupefied.

‘Exactly. And where’s the harm in that? I’m not making any

comment on human nature, but if Louis XVIII accedes to the throne, which is his by divine right, people all over France will rush to court him. Those who betrayed the King or who did nothing will shamelessly take the credit along with the real heroes of the Restoration. Who will bear witness to what I have done? Why is it shocking to want to be rewarded? Can you swear on the Bible that neither you nor anyone else present doesn’t hope for compensation for your good and loyal service?’

‘That’s not what we are about. We aren’t acting just for our personal gain!’

‘Nor am I, but...’

‘Why don’t we light a candle?’

The blade moved away, liberating Margont. When the halo of flame appeared in a yellow ball of light, his eyes filled with tears.