Marianne and the Crown of Fire

She paused when the Emperor appeared and would have handed the cup to Barbe but he stopped her.

'Finish it,' he said, in his most peremptory tone.

Not daring to disobey him or risk trying a temper she knew to be short, Marianne swallowed it down heroically, then, flushed to the roots of her hair, she handed the empty cup to Barbe who curtsied and withdrew. Marianne waited with unaccustomed humility for what the Emperor might have to say to her. It was not long in coming.

'I had given up hope of finding you again, Madame. Indeed, I can scarcely believe even now that it was really you I found shivering in the snow beside the wreck of that pathetic cart.'

'Sire,' Marianne ventured timidly, 'will your Majesty permit me to tell you now—'

'Tell me nothing. I've no time for your story, or your thanks. My coming to your assistance was a matter of common humanity. Thank God for it.'

'Then – may I ask what your Majesty means to do with me?'

"What do you expect me to do with you?'

'I don't know, only – since your Majesty went to the trouble of having me sought for – and even of putting a price on my head—'

Napoleon laughed shortly. 'A price on your head? Don't exaggerate. If I did offer to pay for news of your whereabouts it was not in order that I might have the pleasure of shooting you, nor did I expect you to imagine anything of the kind! I am not, let me tell you, either a tyrant or a madman, nor is my memory so short. I have not forgotten what service you have rendered, or that it was for my sake alone that you thrust yourself into this hornet's nest of a country.'

'But I helped your prisoner to escape—'

'Allow me to finish. I have not forgotten that you once loved me and that, when your heart is involved, you are capable of behaving with the utmost folly, like this escapade of yours in rescuing that contumacious cardinal. And finally, I have not forgotten that I have loved you and that you will never be indifferent to me.'

'Sire—'

'Be quiet. I told you I was in haste. If I sought for you, it was because I hoped to save you first of all from yourself, by preventing you from running after your American's coat-tails, and then from the unbelievable perils of that country – perils which I have been able to measure fully since your disappearance and in comparison with which you seem to me very frail. Has it never occurred to you that I might have been afraid – God, how afraid, that you had perished in the fire? No, I'm very sure you did not give a thought to it!'

'How could I have guessed that? I thought—'

'It was not for you to think. Your duty was to obey. Of course I should have been angry with you – but I have been angry before and you have taken no harm, I think? Then I should have sent you back to your own house in France as soon and as expeditiously as possible.'

Moved to tears by this, Marianne murmured huskily: 'Do you mean, Sire, that – that you are not going to punish me for my disobedience?'

'By no means. But the very fact that you are here, and in this condition, is the best possible proof that you have not betrayed the promise you made me, by which I mean that you did not take the road to St Petersburg, easy as that would have been for you. Because of that, I shall inflict no worse penalty on you than I have done.'

'And – that is?'

'Your house in Paris is yours no more. Just as you have long ceased to be Mademoiselle d'Asselnat de Villeneuve. Your family's mansion shall belong henceforth, as of right, to your cousin, Mademoiselle Adelaide d'Asselnat.'

There was a lump in Marianne's throat and she lowered her eyes so that he should not see the sudden pain in them.

'Does that mean – that Paris is closed to me? That I must live in exile?'

'That's a funny word for an émigrée brought up in England. But don't imagine I'm sending you back to Selton Hall. No, you are not exiled, only you may no longer make your home in Paris. You will not be forbidden to visit it, but you will live henceforth where you belong.'

'And where is that?'

'Don't play the simpleton with me. You are Princess Sant'Anna, Madame, and you will live with your husband and your son. No other home within the Empire is permitted to you.'

'Sire!'

'No argument. What I have said is no more than you have already promised. Go back to Prince Corrado. He is worthy of your love, even if – the colour of his skin is not what might be looked for in such a man.'

"The – colour of his skin? Then your Majesty knows—'

'Yes, madame, I know. In the hope of sparing you my displeasure at the news of a divorce, Prince Sant'Anna has confided his secret to me, trusting to my honour. I had his letter in Moscow. His hope in writing to me was to make me understand you better and forgive you for blindly following your heart to America. I know now what manner of man you have married.'

He moved slowly to the bed and laid his hand on her shoulder as she sat listening with bent head, overwhelmed by feelings she could not control.

'Try to love him, Marianne. No man could deserve it more. If you want me to forgive you wholly and completely, be a good wife to him – and bring him back with you to my court. A man of his quality should not live apart from the world. Tell him that. And tell him also that after the welcome he will receive from me, no one will dare to look askance at him.'

The tears were streaming down Marianne's cheeks now, but they were blessed tears of relief and gladness. Turning her head quickly, she pressed her moist lips to the pale hand that gripped her shoulder, but she could not utter a single word. They remained thus for a moment, then Napoleon gently withdrew his hand and walked to the half-open door.

'Constant!' he called. "You have it ready?'

The Emperor's valet appeared almost at once and placed a folder and some loose papers in Marianne's hands.

The Emperor explained.

'Here is a passport, a requisition order for a vehicle, a permit to obtain post horses and, finally, money. Go to sleep now. Rest here for a few days and then go on to France by easy stages. When you leave here, take a sledge if you can. It's what I'm going to do.'

'You are going now, Sire?' Marianne asked timidly.

'Yes. I must get back as soon as possible. I've had word that in my absence a crazy fool named Malet, by declaring that I was dead, has come within an ace of succeeding in a coup d'etat, thanks to the stupidity and carelessness of those I left in charge in Paris. I'm off again almost at once.' He turned to Constant, who was standing on one side, awaiting orders. 'Has it been decided yet which route we are to take? Königsberg or Warsaw?'

The Duke of Vicenza has just despatched a man to Gumbinnen to see what the road is like to Königsberg, since that is the most direct.'

'Good. Let's go. We may be able to make a detour if the going is bad. It might be better to avoid going through Prussia. Farewell, Madame. I hope that we may meet again in less tragic circumstances.'

For the first time for a long while, Marianne found herself able to smile.

'Farewell, Sire. If God answers my prayers for you, your journey will be a safe one. But before you go, Sire, tell me – about the army. Is it as terrible as I have heard?'

The Emperor's tired, handsome face tautened suddenly, as though at a blow. The hard eyes filled with a grief such as Marianne could never have suspected him of feeling.

'It is worse,' he said heavily. 'My poor children – they have slaughtered them, and the fault is mine! I should never have stayed so long in Moscow. I was deceived by that damned sunshine – and now I must leave them, leave them just when they still need me so badly.'