Clearly, it had been getting the Vicomte down. That much was evident from the way he welcomed them, hailing Marianne's arrival with cries of joy and treating Vania to an almost princely courtesy. As a result of his instructions and the more practical endeavours of Dr Davrigny, now left sole master of the house, the two women found themselves in possession of a fine apartment adjoining his which had formerly belonged to the Countess Rostopchin.
After that Vania departed with Davrigny in search of news, tactfully announcing that she wished to try and locate her companions from the theatre, and Marianne was left alone with Craig and Jolival.
Seated on either side of the Vicomte's chair, they held a council of war. The time for secrecy was past and in any case the Irishman had given sufficient proof of his friendship and loyalty to be trusted with anything that concerned his friends.
Marianne described in detail all that had befallen her and Jason and went on to tell of the night she had spent in the Abbé Surugue's house and her strange encounter there.
'I still cannot understand this danger which is supposed to threaten us and which made the cardinal insist on my promising to leave Moscow before tomorrow night,' she finished with a sigh. 'On the contrary, it seems to me that once the Emperor is here we should have nothing more to fear.'
It was clear, however, that Jolival did not share her optimism.
Indeed, the more Marianne said, the deeper grew the frown between his brows.
'The cardinal is better informed than any man of my acquaintance,' he said darkly. 'And with good reason. If he tells you to go, then go you should. Moreover, Dr Davrigny has heard some strange rumours also, although it's fair to say that he paid scant attention to them, knowing the Russian love of high drama. But added to what you have just told us…"
'What are these rumours?'
'They say that the chief men of the city, including, of course, the governor, have determined, in their patriotic fervour, to sacrifice Moscow for the sake of the Empire.'
'Sacrifice Moscow?'
'Yes. In the biblical meaning of the word. Moscow is to be the pyre on which Napoleon's army will be offered up as a holocaust to the Tsar's injured pride. People are saying that for several weeks past a kind of arsenal has been set up on Prince Repnin's estate at Vorontsovo, some six versts from Moscow, where they are manufacturing rockets and bombs and such to be placed in an enormous balloon, like that of the Montgolfier brothers, which is to be exploded over the city.'
'But that is madness!' Marianne exclaimed impatiently. 'Only a few days ago, the Russians believed they had won the battle at Borodino, and even yesterday, when they knew they were beaten, they were still insisting that Kutuzov was falling back on the city to defend it.'
'I know. That is why Davrigny paid no heed to the rumours – nor I, either. But a warning from the cardinal is something we must take seriously. It would be best if you were to go tonight, my dear.'
'Absolutely not. Your leg changes everything. You cannot be moved, so I will stay with you and, if there should be any danger – well, we will face it together. Besides, you are forgetting the Emperor. I understand that he is to make his entry into the city tomorrow and at all costs I must speak to him.'
'Can't you trust that confounded letter to O'Flaherty? He can hand it over just as well as yourself.'
'Sure,' put in the Irishman. 'It's entirely at your service I am.'
But Marianne would not hear of it.
"Thank you, Craig, but I cannot accept your offer. You would never get near Napoleon, whereas I can go straight to him, and if there really is some grave danger threatening the city tomorrow night, then I must warn him. That is a much more serious trap than the one I came to tell him about, because if the Russians truly mean to burn Moscow it may be that neither Napoleon nor his troops will ever see France again.'
Jolival was not the man to admit defeat without a struggle, especially where Marianne's safety was concerned. He was getting ready to defend his viewpoint energetically when O'Flaherty put an end to the argument by remarking that since there were still twenty-four hours to elapse before the danger, if danger there was, was due to make itself felt, Marianne had plenty of time to see the Emperor and then set out with her friends for Count Sheremetiev's country house.
'I'll drum up some sort of a carriage for you to travel in, Vicomte,' he asserted with his usual optimism, 'and if there are no more horses to be had in Moscow, then Gracchus and I will pull you ourselves! Now, suppose we all settle down to a pleasant evening listening to the gentle music of the King of Naples' trumpeters. After that, a good night's sleep will do us all the good in the world.'
The others had barely time to agree to this sensible proposal when the aforesaid gentle music of the cavalry's trumpeters was drowned by the tramp of marching feet, the roar of commands and the clatter of men standing at ease.
'Now what are we in for?' Jolival said testily, leaning forward as far as he could to try and catch a glimpse of what was happening below.
'Nothing much,' Craig answered him. 'Just an entire regiment, no less! Grenadiers, I think. I can see a whole lot of bearskins. We are about to be subjected to an army of occupation.'
A moment later, a tall, fair, blue-eyed young man, smartly turned out in a well-brushed uniform, carrying his hat under his arm, made his way up to Jolival's bedchamber. He saluted smartly and then, realizing that there was a lady in the room, favoured her with a beaming smile and a flash of firm, white teeth under a reddish-brown moustache.
'Adrien Jean-Baptiste-François Bourgogne,' he introduced himself in ringing tones, 'formerly of Condé-sur-Escaut, now grenadier-sergeant of the Guard. Good evening, everyone.'
'The Guard!' Marianne cried. 'Does that mean Napoleon is in Moscow?'
"No, Madame. It means only that we are here, to take possession of the district surrounding the old castle. The Emperor is still outside the walls. I did hear that he was waiting to receive a delegation of boyars.'
'Boyars?' Jolival laughed. 'We're not living in the Middle Ages, you know! There aren't any boyars any more. What's more, I think His Majesty will wait a long time before he sees any delegation at all. The city is as empty as my pockets.'
Sergeant Bourgogne shrugged philosophically. 'So we saw,' he agreed. 'All we met was a handful of sorry-looking ragamuffins who fired a few shots at us. Anyone would think these Russians were afraid of us! Yet we mean them no harm. We're full of goodwill. Besides, we have strict orders…'
'Setting that aside for a moment,' Jolival inquired, 'what brings you here, sergeant? Are you going to billet yourselves here?'
'Yes, if that's all right with you. This is the Governor's palace.'
'Yes, but I'm not the Governor. We are merely French people who have sought refuge here.'
'I guessed as much. Well, Messieurs and Madame, we don't mean to trouble you. We'll be camping downstairs and in the courtyard and we'll try not to keep you awake. I'll wish you goodnight, then. And you may sleep sound because we're here to protect you, so you've nothing more to fear from the rabble still left in the city.'
But the night was by no means as restful as the worthy sergeant had hoped. Not only did Vania not return, which made Marianne uneasy, but a number of explosions were heard, all of them very close.
They learned from Gracchus, who reappeared at daybreak, having spent part of the night on patrol with the sergeant's men, for the two had struck up an immediate friendship, that a house in the Yaouza quarter had been blown up, that fire had broken out in a part of the bazaar of Kitaigorod and a large brandy warehouse near the Stone Bridge, which was one of the few that remained standing, the property of the crown, had burned to the ground but that nothing could be done to put out the flames because, as Gracchus said: 'there was not a single working fire engine left in the city. The only two there were completely useless.'