At dinner they ate and drank with the usual unrestrained gusto of the times, and as there were no ladies present Dundas kept them merry with an apparently inexhaustible fund of bawdy stories. Afterwards the talk became more serious, turning inevitably to politics and, in due course, to the progress of the French Revolution. To these close friends Dundas made no secret qf Roger's activities in France and he was asked to give an account of Robespierre's fall and execution, then of other outstanding scenes that he had witnessed during the Terror. It was Addington who said:
"It is clear, Mr. Brook, that you must be a man of great courage to have continued with your mission in circumstances of acute danger for so long; so I mean no offence by suggesting that there must have been many occasions when you feared for your life. It would much interest me to hear of that on which your apprehensions were the gravest"
Roger thought for a moment, then replied: "The fear of betrayal was a constant anxiety, but I think, Sir, I felt more actual terror on the field of battle than during any of my dealings with the revolutionaries. Last winter I was sent as one of the Citizen Reprisentants en Mission to the army besieging Toulon. Fort Mulgrave was the key point of the defence, and having learnt the date that a major attack was to be launched against it, I was most anxious to get warning to my lord Hood of the intentions of the French. As it was impossible for me to leave Headquarters clandestinely, I decided that my best course would be to get myself captured. To the north of the Fort there was a small redoubt containing a masked battery. I suggested to General Dugommier that its destruction the night before the main assault would greatly facilitate the capture of the Fort, and offered to lead an attack upon it. He agreed, and my intention was, of course, to get separated from my men in the darkness, surrender to the first British soldier I met, get taken to my lord Hood, then have him exchange me for a prisoner of equivalent rank; so that I could return and continue with my secret work without the French suspecting that it was I who had given away their plans. But my own plan went sadly awry."
Having taken a swig of port, Roger went on: "Most unfortunately for me, when the details of my project were discussed in Council, a scruffy little officer named Buonaparte intervened. He was Corsican, of about my own age; and although only a captain of artillery who had recently been jumped up to temporary Lieutenant Colonel, he insisted on poking his finger into every pie. This moody down-at-heel fellow maintained that although the capture of the redoubt was sound in principle, to attempt it the night before the main assault would result in setting the whole front ablaze prematurely. He persuaded his seniors that it must be carried out only a few hours before the assault, when it would be too late for the British to bring up reinforcements from the warships in the harbour. Of course it was impossible for me to back down; so owing to this interfering Corsican, I was compelled to lead an attack against the battery in full daylight and I don't think I've ever been so frightened in my life."
The others laughed, and Rose enquired. "Did you capture the battery?"
Roger gave a rueful smile. "I don't even know, for no sooner had I reached it than a gunner stunned me with his ramrod. But if the little Buonaparte had deliberately planned my undoing he could not have done so better. Not only did I fail to get my information to Lord Hood; it transpired that the battery was manned by our Spanish allies. When I came to I found myself a prisoner in a Spanish man-of-war, and they took me to Majorca. As I could not reveal my true identity, I had the very devil of a job getting out of their clutches, and was unable to resume my proper work again for above two months."
There was more friendly laughter, the port circulated again and the talk went on. It was two in the morning before Roger mounted his horse and, swaying somewhat in the saddle, made his way home.
His next business was to kiss hands on appointment, and for this formality Dundas took him to a levee at St. James's Palace., King George was then fifty-six, a portly red-faced man of no great mental attainments, but a fund of sound common sense and dogged determination. Unlike his German forebears, he put what he believed to be the interests of Britain first in everything. He had a passionate conviction that the well-being of the State was bound up with the breaking Of the stranglehold that the powerful Whig nobility had obtained over it, and for the first twenty-five years of his reign had fought them relentlessly. At last, by the bold step of nominating young Billy Pitt at the age of twenty-four to be his Prime Minister, he had succeeded in his aim, and together through many difficulties they had brought the nation to a great prosperity. Five years earlier he had for some months been out of his mind, and his recovery had been hailed throughout England with such heart-felt rejoicing that it was clear beyond doubt that his honesty, simple way of life, and delight in growing bigger turnips than any other farmer in his kingdom had, through the years, gradually made him an object of great affection to his people.
Roger, during his missions, had become quite well acquainted with several foreign sovereigns, but no occasion had previously arisen calling for his presentation to his own King; so he was pleasantly surprised when the Monarch said to him:
"You should have come to see us before, Mr. Brook; you should have come before. Seven years in our service we're told, and many a dangerous undertaking carried out with success. Our thanks are overdue. And now you go to Martinique, eh? What'll you plant there? Sugar-cane, of course. Not long ago we met on the road a rich equipage with six outriders, all most gorgeous clad. 'Who's that?' we asked our gentleman-in-waiting. 'Is it some foreign Prince or new Ambassador?* *Nay, Sire,' he told us. "Tis a merchant just returned from the sugar Isles.' 'Why Bless me!' we said. 'Can there be all that sugar?' 'Twas true enough though. But yams now, yams; or sweet potato as some call them. Could we but induce the planters to grow them in quantity, they would serve admirably to feed the slaves. Then we'd have no need to send out vast quantities of salted herrings each year for that purpose. Bear yams in mind, Mr. Brook; bear yams in mind."
"I will indeed, Sire," Roger promised; and having drawn a quick breath the King hurried on:
"When do you set out? With the first convoy of the season, no doubt. But that's not for some weeks yet; so you'll be seeing your father before you sail. Carry him our greeting, Mr. Brook. We hold him in high esteem. A good honest man. A fine sailor too. Yes, carry him our greeting and tell him what we said."
Roger bowed. "I should be most happy, Sire, to convey your gracious message to him; but it happens that he is at present on service in the Mediterranean."
"Ha! Ha!" The King gave a high-pitched happy little laugh and, with his protuberant blue eyes suddenly merry, poked Roger sharply in the ribs. "Beaten at your own game, Mr. Brook! Beaten at your own game. Our intelligence is better than yours. Your good father was at Windsor but two days back to tell us of the taking of Corsica.
It was our pleasure to make him a Knight for his part in it; so now he is Admiral Sir Chris. Admiral Sir Chris. Admiral Sir Chris; that sounds well, does it not? Do you know Corsica? Your father says the island is near covered with chestnut trees, and the finest he has ever seen. The peasants make a flour from the nuts, which is most nutritious, thereby enjoying a staple food at little or no expense. Have you ever met with it?"
"I have never been to Corsica, Sire; but a similar flour is made in Tuscany, and there I found it very palatable." Before the King could start off again, Roger added swiftly: "And, Your Majesty, may I say how delighted I am to hear of this honour you have done my father. I shall lose not a moment in seeking him out to offer my congratulations."