After a minute's thought, Charles said, 'What think you of Lieutenant Count von Schweibacker-Erman? That would fit in with the coronet and initials on my underclothes should a servant chance to notice them.'
Roger laughed for the first time in many hours. "Tis one hell of a name, but most suitable. You're a fine fellow, Charles, with a good brain as well as courage.'
At the great gate of the fortress he paid off the coach and after a wait of three-quarters of an hour they were taken up to the office of the General commanding the garrison. Roger had never met him, but when die name of de Breuc was brought up to him he had made enquiries of his staff and now had with him a Colonel Orton of the Engineers, who had known Roger during Napoleon's second occupation of Vienna; so, in spite of his rumpled civilian clothes and unshaven face, the Major was readily able to identify him.
Roger's story was that he and his companion had become separated from the Emperor at the battle of Leipzig, and that he had been severely wounded during the retreat. Fortunately they were then in the neighbourhood of a house owned by a widow lady who was a relative of Count von Schweibacker-Erman. She had agreed to hide them from their enemies. His wound had then become gangrenous, and he had been so ill that they had had to lie up there for many weeks. When at last he had become fit to travel, they had made their way, mostly by night and hiding by day, toward the Rhine. Then, hearing that Coblenz was still in the hands of the French, they succeeded in reaching the city.
In view of the disturbed state of the whole of southern Germany, the story was entirely plausible. The General accepted it and congratulated them on evading capture. He then told Colonel Orton to find suitable quarters for them, and invited them to dine with him in the Senior Officers' Mess.
The meal proved a by no means cheerful one. Those officers present were very conscious that, as in other pockets of territory on the right bank of the Rhine still held by the French, their enemies were rapidly closing in on them, and the prospect of being reinforced seemed extremely dubious. Moreover, the state of things in the city of Coblenz had become very different from what it had been when they had lorded it there. The German population had become openly hostile. The troops no longer dared go to the beerhalles in parties of fewer than a dozen, they were hissed at in the streets and had to walk warily to avoid the contents of a chamber pot thrown from an upper window on to their heads.
That evening Roger told the General that he naturally wished to rejoin the Emperor as soon as possible, and asked his assistance to get to Paris. The General willingly agreed, said that he still had the power to commandeer a coach and promised to provide a driver. By mid-morning next day a coach had been procured. As the driver was a soldier, an escort was provided to accompany the coach into the town, so that Roger and Charles could buy razors, soap, flannels, a change of underclothes, some bottles of wine and other things for their journey. They then crossed the river by the bridge of boats. On the far side the escort left them, and for the five days that followed they were able to enjoy relaxing in freedom until they reached Paris on December 23rd.
Roger directed the driver to Talleyrand's mansion. On alighting there they were informed that the statesman was dining out, but the maitre d'hotel, who knew Roger well, said he felt sure it would be His Highness's wish that they should partake of a meal while awaiting his return. Soon after eight o'clock Talleyrand came in, to find them still lingering over peaches and Chateau Yquem. As he limped into the room they both stood up. With a smile and a wave of his hand toward Charles, Roger said :
'Your Highness, permit me to present my friend, Count von Schweibacker-Erman.'
Returning the smile, Talleyrand replied, 'So you succeeded in your quest.' Then he extended his beruffled hand to Charles and said, 'I am delighted to welcome Lord St. Ermins to my house, and I hope that you will both remain here as my guests during your stay in Paris.'
They laughed and gratefully accepted. Some fine old brandy was produced and they sat round the table. Roger gave an account of all that had befallen him since he had left Paris toward the end of August, then Talleyrand gave them a resume of the war situation.
Prince Metternich, anxious to keep France strong as a counterweight to Russia, had in mid-November offered peace on the terms that France must give up all that remained of her conquests in Spain, Italy and Germany and return to her natural frontiers: the Rhine, the Alps and the Pyrenees. But Napoleon, then at Frankfurt, had shillied and shallied until the offer had been withdrawn. This had caused him, quite unjustly, to dismiss Maret, Duc de Bassano, who had long been his Foreign Minister, and replace him with Gaulaincourt.
His efforts to re-open negotiations had been thwarted by the Prussians. Determined to exact full vengeance from the French, they now proclaimed both banks of the Rhine to be German territory, and claimed Cologne, Treir, Strasbourg and Metz. The Czar, moreover, was set on dictating a peace in Paris. Ignoring a declaration of neutrality by Switzerland, an Allied army was marching through that country, and now menaced France from the east. Von Bulow's Prussians, with the aid of a British expeditionary force, had driven the French out of Holland, to the great rejoicing of the Dutch, and in the south Wellington had crossed the Pyrenees.
At the end of this recital Roger said, 'Then it can now be only a matter of weeks before the Emperor is forced to give in.'
Talleyrand shook his head. 'I'd not gamble on that. The man is as stubborn as a mule. Nothing will induce him to give up the left bank of the Rhine, Belgium or his Italian conquests. I fear there is yet much bloody fighting to come.'
'But, my Prince, what has he left to fight with? After the debacle in Russia, he managed by a miracle to muster another half-million men and he has since lost those in Germany. One cannot make bricks without straw, and there is no straw left.'
'You are wrong there, but it is a different kind of straw. When he returned to Paris, he was openly cursed as the destroyer of France's young manhood. For years the people have become more and more sickened by his foreign wars. But now they have changed their tune. The Allies are about to invade France—to tread the sacred soil won by the people's army, led by Moreau, Jourdan and Kellermann in the days of the Revolution. Men long since released from the Army, many even who were middle-aged in those days but can still march and fire a musket, are volunteering in their thousands to fight again.'
Roger sighed. 'How terrible that there must be yet another bloodbath.'
They talked on for another hour or so, then Talleyrand excused himself on account of having papers to go through, and had his guests shown up to bedrooms.
When Roger had left La Belle Etoile he had had his big trunk brought round to Talleyrand's mansion, and he recalled that he had an old uniform in it. It was one he had worn at the battle of the Nile, and had a big tear through the upper part of the left arm, made by a bullet that had narrowly missed him. Although the tear had been mended, he had been in half a mind to throw the garment away, but the providence he had inherited from his Scottish mother had led to his keeping it in case one day it came in useful. Now was just such a time, as going to the Ministry of War in uniform rather than in civilian clothes would save him from having to answer a lot of tiresome questions. Next morning, after the footman who was valeting him had given the coat a good brushing, he put it on and took a coach to the Ministry.