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.
CHAPTER 10
THE man who had interrogated Margont must have been about forty-five. He looked as commanding as he sounded. He held himself proudly, he was clearly impassioned and he seemed poised to fling himself into battle. There was an impressive energy about him. Had he chosen to serve the Empire he would certainly have been high up in the hierarchy, either civil or military. But he had decided to support the King, and his ‘Grande Armée’ was merely a group of perhaps thirty, and instead of gliding through the enemy palaces he had seized, he was hiding from cellar to cellar. He was a sort of fallen angel precipitated into limbo alongside royalty. Although he was an idealist, he must have suffered from not occupying a rank commensurate with his talents. Margont’s argument about the need to be recognised had shocked him because it had hit the nail on the head ... The emblem of the Swords of the King was pinned to his jacket over his heart. Margont looked at it briefly, as if he were seeing it for the first time, and noted that it corresponded in every particular with the one he had seen on Colonel Berle’s body.
'I'm Vicomte Louis de Leaume.’
‘Delighted to meet you!’ said Margont, massaging his throat. ‘Baron Honoré de Nolant.’
Nolant was overcome with embarrassment. It is not every day you are introduced to the person you almost murdered a few minutes earlier. He was a little younger than Louis de Leaume, and thin, but Margont was not taken in by his fragile appearance, knowing how easily he had been overpowered by him. Nolant did not look directly at Margont and appeared distracted, lost in his own thoughts.
Varencourt looked pale. He did not dare move, as if he had not yet realised that the ordeal was over.
He turned to Margont and said, ‘Incredible! You’re even more of a gambler than I am!’
He laughed, bringing colour to his cheeks, but the rest of his face was still as pale as porcelain.
A third man, who had been silent up until then, introduced himself: ‘Jean-Baptiste de Chatel.’ He was posted just inside the door, as if to intercept Margont should he try to flee. He was a little older, but not yet fifty, with a bony face and searching, narrowed eyes. He was so emaciated he looked ill, or as if he had endured many years of deprivation.
Margont realised he had been put in front of a sort of tribunal. Everyone had been listening to him and when Louis de Leaume had proposed lighting a candle, any one of them could have sentenced him to death by replying ‘no’. In the meantime Jean-Baptiste de Chatel did not look happy. He had contemplated refusing the light!
‘Monsieur de Langes, perhaps you would like to suggest a suitable quotation from the Holy Bible. What do you know of the word of God?’
‘Thou shalt not kill,’ replied Margont, looking at Honoré de Nolant.
‘That’s a bit short.’
Margont now felt trapped in the persona he had just projected. It would not do to appear merely as a pushy trouble-maker. He would have to temper the showy opportunism he had displayed with a demonstration of faith to win over the idealists present. Jean-Baptiste de Chatel looked as if he might be susceptible to this. So Margont pressed on.
“‘Seeing he despised the oath by breaking the covenant, when, lo, he had given his hand, and hath done all these things, he shall not escape. Therefore thus saith the Lord Cod; As I live, surely mine oath that he hath despised, and my covenant that he hath broken, even it will I recompense upon his own head.” Ezekiel, Chapter 17, verses 18 and 19. He who breaks a covenant offends God and breaks away from him.’
Jean-Baptiste de Chatel s expression was transformed, like a block of ice turned suddenly to vapour. He seemed about to take Margont in his arms. ‘Good, very good!’
Margont had spent four years in the Abbey of Saint-Guilhem-le-Desert studying the Bible under the iron yoke of the monks. He had almost become a monk himself, against his will. So it would be hard to trip him up in his knowledge of theology. To lie effectively was it not best to lead your adversary onto territory that you were sure of?
‘What do you know about the Antichrist?’ Chatel demanded. Margont thought he was trying to trip him up by asking him about an unfamiliar subject. “‘And he shall subdue three kings. And he shall speak great words against the most High, and shall wear out the saints of the most High, and think to change times and laws.” Daniel ... I can’t remember which chapter...’