"There have not. The five Directors are the same as when you left Paris, and they appear to be more firmly seated in the saddle than ever. I gather, though, that they are a venal crew; and since they are now virtually all-powerful, I have been wondering if we could not succeed in bribing one or more of them to sway the rest France needs peace every whit as badly as ourselves. If the bribe were big enough, and they were guaranteed against reprisals for their pasts, they might be tempted to call on the people to support them against their old colleagues in the two Chambers."
After refilling his glass from the decanter that Mr. Pitt pushed towards him, Roger-shook his head. "What could you possibly offer them more than they have? Dukedoms, Governorships and Orders would be regarded as poor bait by men who are each one-fifth of a king already. As for money, their situation enables them to collect it by the bushelful. Besides, peace in due course must bring a Restoration, and they would place no faith in any guarantee that could be given them. As I pointed out when last we talked of this, in upholding the revolutionary system of government lies their one and only hope of safety."
"What think you, then, of reverting to our old plan of attempting to find among the Revolutionary Generals another Monk, who would seize Paris for us. As I have said, our attempt to suborn Jourdan failed; but there are Moreau, Hoche, Kellerman, all men of great reputation, and this new man, Buonaparte, who commands the Army of the Interior."
For a moment Roger considered the matter, then he said, "Buonaparte would suit our purpose best, as he is already in Paris; so could secure it, if he would, without having to march upon it. Moreover, unless he was also privy to the plan, any of the others would find him a hard nut to crack. Unfortunately he is a convinced revolutionary, so his political convictions would prove a nasty hurdle to get over. However, he struck me as a young man of inordinate ambition; so there is just a chance that a Marshal's baton, the Chateau of Chambord, and all the other things Pichegru was to get, might tempt him to pull our chestnuts out of the fire for us."
"Then, Mr. Brook, the best service you can render me would be to return to Paris and endeavour to come to an arrangement with General Buonaparte."
Roger now had reason to be thankful that, instead of simply disappearing from Paris without explanation, he had evolved and put into execution a plan to cover his withdrawal. It meant that although there were always unforeseen possibilities in his dangerous work, on this occasion he could readily agree to Mr. Pitt's request, and reappear in the French capital without any evident risk.
However, the Prime Minister, giving as his reason that all too soon spring would be upon them and fresh campaigns be opening which might prove disastrous for the Allies, did press him to start upon his new mission with the least possible delay. In consequence, he again had to forgo the chance to see Georgina; and, with new blank drafts on secret funds in Paris concealed upon him, he left Rochester in a specially employed Revenue Cutter the following afternoon.
She landed him near Calais soon after dawn next morning. For the next two days he suffered cold, misery and boredom, as the diligence conveyed him, or he helped to push it, over rutted muddy roads to Paris; but he arrived there without incident a little before midday on February the 21st
At La Belle Etoile the Blanchards once more welcomed him and asked no questions. Upstairs he had a most welcome bath, changed into one of the Paris-made suits that he had left in the secret wardrobe he kept there, then came down and enjoyed a meal with his host and hostess.
This time they had little to tell him. The poorer half of the population of Paris was literally starving, but entirely cowed by the Government's troops and the reconstituted National Guard, which was now loyal to it Another third, which had either goods, or services superior to manual labour, to sell, was now benefiting from the long-hidden gold that was once more in circulation. The upper sixth crowded the salons, theatres, public ballrooms and cafes, flaunting a luxury unseen since the monarchy and a licentiousness which would never have been tolerated in the days of that most immoral of kings, Louis XV.
At six o'clock Roger had himself driven in a coach to the Luxemburg, and enquired for Barras. He was told that at eight the Director would be holding an evening soiree; so he spent the intervening time in a cafe and returned at that hour. As in the old days at the Royal Palaces, anyone who was respectably dressed was allowed to enter, and the long gallery was soon crowded with merveilleuses, incroyables, officers, deputies, and prominent citizens. A number of them were already known to Roger; so he spent an hour exchanging bows, kissing women's hands, gossiping, and repeating over and over again his story that he had that morning returned from a stay of nearly four months in the South of France.
In due course ushers formed a lane through the throng, then Barras, resplendent in satins and with powdered hair, appeared. Walking slowly down it he paused here and there to chat with friends, had a smile for every pretty woman who caught his eye, passed to M. Bottot, his secretary, who followed him, every petition presented with a promise to read it personally, and listened graciously to a score of requests for a variety of favours.
When he noticed Roger, who, owing to his height, could afford to stand a little way back in the crowd, he waved a hand and called gaily to him: "It is good to see you again! You must join us later in the salon, and tell me what you have been doing with yourself."
The salon was reserved for the elite and into it, after Barras had walked back up the human lane, some hundred and fifty people followed him, to drink pink champagne and eat foie-gras sandwiches or pineapple ices. At about half-past ten, when the party had thinned a little, Roger saw his chance and got a ten-minute tete-a-tete with the Director over a glass of wine.
After reporting that his health was much improved, Roger said that he had bought a pleasant property on the coast near the old Roman town of Frejus where he intended to spend a good part of each year in future, as it included a number of vineyards, which he felt it would be interesting to have cultivated by the most modern methods.
"Ah!" exclaimed Barras, simulating envy. "How wise you are, my dear fellow! Nowhere in the world does one find such passionate girls as among the dark-eyed beauties of my native Provence; and in its first season I would sooner drink the rose which will come from your presses than a good Bordeaux. With wine and women, sunny days and warm nights to make love in, what more could a man want? I am a fool to stay here, wearing myself out among this riff-raff."
Roger smiled. "Even so, your prospects of continuing to derive a certain enjoyment from life appear to be considerably better than they were on the night when I last arrived in Paris. Do you remember—the 12th Vendemiaire?"
"Do I not!" laughed Barras. "But, with the help of the little Corsican, we soon put things to rights."
"How fares your one-time ragamuffin?"
"You'll do well not to remind him of his old nickname when you see him. Nowadays he struts about like any turkey-cock, jingling his spurs land ogling the women. But don't let me lead you to suppose that he is idle. He is positively bursting with ideas. And since we gave him the task to prepare plans for the invasion of England, I am really coming to believe that we shall have conquered that damned island before the year is out."