Marianne and the Crown of Fire

'Come in here, then,' Duroc said, opening the door leading to the imperial antechamber. 'I'll leave you in Constant's care while I give the necessary orders and then I'll come back to you.'

'This is ridiculous,' Caulaincourt said. 'The lady—'

'I know the lady,' Duroc interrupted him. 'She is an old friend and I can promise you, my dear duke, that, with the exception of the Emperor himself, I know of no one more generally level-headed. Go and do what you have to do, and so will I.'

In the antechamber, they found the Mameluke, Ali, with two or three of his fellows, engaged in a fierce argument with Constant. Napoleon's valet was doing his best to calm them but they, like Marianne, appeared to be intent on waking the Emperor.

Duroc, with a few words, despatched them to their beds again, assuring them that they would be sent for at need.

'We will not wake His Majesty just yet,' he added firmly. 'He needs his sleep. And you are making noise enough to wake the dead.'

Constant lifted his shoulders philosophically and permitted himself a smile.

'The Grand Marshal knows that the court and the army are all alike. As soon as anything happens, they are lost unless the Emperor is there in person to assure them that all is well.'

'He can scarcely tell them so tonight,' Marianne said sharply. 'And if I were you, my good Constant, I would begin packing up His Majesty's belongings. You never know. And things might move faster than you think. What time is it?'

'A little before eleven, your Highness. May I suggest that your Highness should wait in the saloon until the Grand Marshal returns? It is a trifle damp, I fear, but there is a fire and the chairs are quite comfortable, and I will bring you a nice cup of coffee.'

Marianne smiled at him, marvelling at the way in which he managed to be invariably calm and efficient and as point-device as if he had just spent an hour getting dressed. He was, beyond all doubt, the perfect servant.

'A fire's the last thing I want to see tonight, Constant,' she said, 'but the coffee will be welcome.'

The saloon in question was an enormous room, divided into two halves by a massively pillared arch, the space between the walls and the pillars being filled by a pair of bronze tripods. The lavish gilding on both walls and pillars was dulled and tarnished with age. Sofas and armchairs were scattered about the floor and in one corner hung the inevitable icon in red and gold, depicting an emaciated Virgin with enormous eyes. Great, dusty carpets formed a pattern of islands on the black marble floor.

Marianne wasted little time in contemplation of the furnishings.

While she waited for the promised coffee, she went to the windows and pressed her face against the glass and stared out at the threatened Russian capital. The wind was gusting strongly between north and west, driving the flames towards the centre of the city and sending showers of sparks blazing down on those houses that were still intact, so that they very soon became a source of fresh fires. The demon of fire had Moscow in its grip and none could say whether that grip could be prised loose.

The coffee arrived at the same time as Duroc and the two friends drank it in silence, each locked in their own thoughts and doing their best to hide their uneasiness. Although they did not know it, the thoughts of the Princess and the Grand Marshal were identical. The city on which, in their different ways, each had pinned such great hopes, now seemed to them like a pair of jaws closing inexorably on the fragile human figures within.

At about half past twelve, another fire broke out in a district which had been dark until that moment. It was followed by another.

'The fires are spreading,' Duroc remarked, and his voice was strangely hoarse.

'The circle is closing. Oh, I beg you, my friend, wake the Emperor while there is still time. I am frightened, terribly frightened. These people have made up their minds to leave no stone of Moscow standing.'

Duroc jerked his head angrily. 'No, it's not possible! You can't set fire to a whole city, not a city the size of this one! You are afraid because a few outlying districts are on fire but our soldiers are dealing with it. They will soon catch the incendiaries, if such there are.'

'Don't you believe it even now? You are all blind! I have been trying for hours to make you understand your danger and still you are half inclined to think I must be mad! I feel like Cassandra trying to make the Trojans see sense.'

But at the sight of Duroc's dubious expression she abandoned her classical similes. Obviously Troy was a long way from his thoughts and Cassandra the last person he wished to talk about. In any case, Caulaincourt's return turned the conversation into other channels.

The Duke of Vicenza's person was liberally adorned with soot and his uniform was pockmarked with tiny burns from flying sparks. Under his frowning brows, his eyes were very grave.

'It's a bad business,' he admitted. 'I've taken a good look all round the Kremlin and I think we are in for some unexpected excitement. The fire is gaining on all sides. There are fresh outbreaks to the north and the wind is rising steadily. But worse than that—'

'Worse,' Duroc said glumly. 'I don't see that there can be much worse!'

'The fire engines. There aren't any to speak of. And those we have found are unusable.'

'And doesn't that convince you that what I heard is true?' Marianne cried frantically. 'Good God, what more do you need? I've told you again and again that all this has been planned, deliberately organized down to the smallest detail. The Russians themselves are setting fire to Moscow on the orders of their governor. But you still won't listen to me! Why won't you escape? Wake the Emperor and—'

'And run?' Caulaincourt finished for her. 'No! We have not been at such trouble and sacrifice to come here, only to run like rabbits on account of a bit of a fire. It's not the first time we've had houses burned in our path—'

'But I daresay it's the first time they've been burned over your heads. I'm sorry, though, if I have said anything to open painful wounds. I am thinking only of the Emperor's safety and that of his army, Duke.'

'I know, and believe me I bear you no ill will.'

Repressing the movement of her shoulders which would too clearly have betrayed her irritation, Marianne moved away. She thought gloomily that this was just one more instance of the impossibility of preventing men from running headlong on their fate. Duroc, meanwhile, was seeking more information.

'How are things in the city?' he asked.

"The troops are standing to. As to the civilian population, for incendiaries they are behaving very oddly, abandoning their homes and crowding, weeping, into the churches which are packed to overflowing.'

'And here?'

'Everyone but the Emperor is awake. The gallery is filled with people in a state of great alarm. There is general anxiety and, if you ask me, panic is not far away. Little as I wish to, I fear it may be time I woke His Majesty.'

'So I should hope!' Marianne could not refrain from exclaiming.

Caulaincourt turned to her severely.

'The situation demands it, Madame. But we do not go to the Emperor in order to persuade him to fly. It is merely that, as it has done before, his presence may reassure all those in the palace who are allowing their fears to get the better of them – you, most of all, Princess.'

'I am not giving way to panic, Duke, whatever you may think. Simply that when disaster threatens I think it best to inform the master of the house. What time is it now?'

'Almost four o'clock. Go, then, Duroc.'

The Grand Marshal approached the imperial bedchamber, the door of which was already being held open for him by Constant. Meanwhile Marianne, reluctant to remain with Caulaincourt, who was quite clearly out of sympathy with her, decided to go in search of Jolival and Gracchus. The noise was now such that they could not be still asleep and, since neither of them was an emperor, they were probably wide awake and worrying about her.