Marianne and the Privateer

'Fortunée, for God's sake, tell me what is the matter! Were you truly so afraid for me?'

Fortunée freed herself quickly and stood for a moment holding Marianne at arms' length, her hands resting on the girl's shoulders while she gazed deep into her eyes with such an expression of compassion that a cold trickle of fear ran through Marianne's veins, leaving her unable to speak.

'Marianne, I have just come from the court,' Madame Hamelin said at last in the gentlest possible voice. 'It is all over.'

'What – what do you mean?'

'Jason Beaufort was sentenced to death an hour ago.'

Marianne staggered as if she had been shot. But after so many days' unconscious expectation of this very thing, she was to some extent prepared, without knowing it, so that the wound had begun to heal over almost as soon as it was made. She had known in her heart that one day she would have to listen to those dreadful words and, as the human body prepares secretly to fight for life against the disease it harbours, so her mind had armed itself against the suffering to come. The danger was too close now, there was no time for weakness, no time for tears or terror.

Fortunée had extended her arms in an automatic gesture, expecting Marianne to fall down in a faint, but she let them drop slowly to her sides as she stared in amazement at the unknown woman who looked back at her out of a face which had turned suddenly to stone. Marianne spoke in a voice of ice:

'Where is the Emperor? At St Cloud?'

'No. The whole court is at Fontainebleau, for the hunting. What are you going to do? You won't—'

'Oh yes I shall. That is precisely what I shall do. Do you think I care for anything in this world if Jason is not in it? I swore by my mother's memory that if they killed him I should stab myself at the foot of the scaffold. What are Napoleon's rages to me? He shall listen to me, whether he likes it or not, whether it suits him or not! Afterwards, he may do to me what he likes. As if it mattered!'

'Don't say that!' Fortunée begged her, crossing herself hurriedly, as if to avert an evil fate. 'Think of all of us who love you.'

'I am thinking of the man I love, and without whom I will not live! There is only one thing I ask of you, Fortunée. Lend me a chaise and some clothes, and a little money, and tell me where I can go in Fontainebleau to avoid being arrested before I have seen the Emperor. You know the place, I think. If you will do this for me, I will bless you to my dying day—'

'Stop!' Fortunée cried distractedly. 'Will you stop talking about dying! Lend you money, my chaise – what are you thinking of?'

'Fortunée!' Marianne protested in accents of hurt surprise, but before she could say more her friend's arm was folded lovingly about her waist and Fortunée was leading her upstairs, murmuring affectionately in her ear:

'We'll go together, of course, you silly thing. I have a house there, a little retreat of my own by the river, and I know every inch of the forest. We'll find that useful if you don't succeed in getting into the chateau – much as Napoleon hates to have his hunting interrupted. But if that is the only way…'

'I can't let you, Fortunée! You may be dreadfully compromised… even banished…'

'Well, if I am, I'll go and join Montrond at Anvers and we'll have a lovely time together! Come, my love. I must say I shan't be sorry to learn how the Emperor came to allow such a sentence to be passed on such an extraordinarily attractive man – to say nothing of one who could not possibly have committed the crimes they have accused him of! A foul murder? Coining? A man with his proud bearing, and those eyes, like a sea-eagle's? It's perfectly absurd!…

Jonas! Tell my woman to prepare a bath for Mademoiselle Marianne at once, and some clean clothes. We'll have a good meal in half an hour and a post-chaise at the door half an hour after that. Is that understood? Off with you, then.'

The major-domo departed speedily in the direction of the stairs, calling loudly for Mademoiselle Clementine as he went, and Fortunée, following more sedately with Marianne, said confidentially:

'Now, darling, we have plenty of time so you can tell me all about it. Where have you been…?'

CHAPTER TEN The Imperial Hunt

Madame Hamelin reined in her mount beside the worn stone cross, all overgrown with lichens, which stood in the shadow of a broad oak tree at a place where four ways met.

'This is the cross of Souvray,' she said, pointing at the stone with her whip. 'It will be the perfect spot to wait until the hunt begins. I know there is to be a luncheon at the Carrefour de Recloses, about a mile and a half from here, but I do not know which direction the hunt will take.'

As she spoke, she dismounted and, hitching her horse to the trunk of a tall Scots pine, gathered up the long skirts of her leaf-brown habit and strolled leisurely back to seat herself on the steps below the old cross, while Marianne, following her example, tied her own horse to the same tree and joined her friend on the steps.

The cross-roads was quite deserted. The only sounds were the trickle of water somewhere on the other side of a thicket and the rapid scampering feet of a startled hare on the deep, rustling carpet of fallen leaves. A little way to the south, however, the woods were alive with the unmistakable hum of a crowd of people enjoying themselves, punctuated by noises of hound and horn and distant carriages.

'I've never seen an imperial hunt before,' Marianne said, seating herself and settling the ample folds of her dark green habit round her legs. 'What happens?'

'Oh, it's quite simple. All the court is supposed to take part, but in point of fact the Emperor hunts alone, except for his equerry-in-chief General Nansouty, the master of the hunt Monsieur d'Hannecourt, a single huntsman and his Mameluke servant Rustan, who goes with him everywhere. Before Savary was chief of police, he used to be there as well, but now he is obliged to watch over his master at a rather greater distance. As to the formalities-well, everyone, men and women, including the Emperor, set out from the chateau in a procession of carriages. They drive to a point which has been decided on beforehand and there is a splendid collation. When that is over, the court either hangs about doing nothing in particular, except digest their luncheon, or else goes quietly home, and Napoleon hunts. That is all there is to it!'

'I never knew he was so fond of hunting. He never mentioned it…'

Fortunée laughed. 'My dear child, our Emperor is a man with a prodigious talent for creating the right atmosphere, and doing what he feels goes with the part. Privately, he has no great fondness for hunting, very largely because he is an indifferent horseman, and if his horses were not always very well trained he would certainly have a respectable number of falls to his credit. However, he believes that a sovereign of France is obliged to hunt. French kings have always hunted madly – Capets, Valois, Bourbons, were all devoted to the chase. I dare say he feels he owes it to his uncle Louis XVI! And you need not look so downcast about it, either. It gives you all the better chance of finding him more or less alone.'

For Fortunée's sake, Marianne summoned up a wan smile but the fear which clutched at her heart was too great to allow her any pleasure in her friend's witticisms. Jason's life would depend on what took place that afternoon and in the three days since she had arrived at La Madeleine, Fortunée's charming rural retreat, this thought had never left her, day or night.

Almost as soon as they arrived, in fact, Madame Hamelin had hastened to the palace to see Duroc and try, through him, to obtain an audience with the Emperor. The ever-helpful Duc de Frioul had communicated the request to his master but Napoleon had made it known that he did not desire to see Madame Hamelin, intimating that she had better confine herself for the present to her own delightful property and not venture to appear at court. Marianne's heart sank when she heard this.