He could take pride in the fact that both his father and himself had served their King well. Was the poor old madman still alive? But where would England be now without Billy Pitt? Frail and ill for a great part of the time, for over fourteen years, with indomitable courage he had fought to save Britain and all Europe from self seeking demagogues and spoliation under irresponsible mob rule.
Would Talleyrand and Metternich replace him, and destroy once and for all the demon power of Bonaparte to inflict untold misery on millions of men and women? What a good friend Talleyrand had been, and dear Droopy Ned, who had been closer than a brother to him, ever ready to welcome him back to London and help him with shrewd advice.
Then there were his friends the enemy, who had blindly followed the dynamic Corsican's star: Duroc, Rapp, Lavalette, Bourrienne, Lannes, Bernadotte, Eugene, and the rest. Several of them were now dead, the others Princes, Dukes and Counts. What a glorious company! Unrivalled in all history, they had fought and laughed their way into Brussels, Amsterdam, Mayence, Cologne, Milan, Rome, Venice, Madrid, Vienna, Hanover, Berlin and even Moscow.
What had happened to the Grand Army? That fabulous host that Napoleon had led across the Niemen six months ago. How many of them would recross it? From the scene Gobbet had described of the crossing of the Berezina, probably not more than a few thousand. How many of them had left their bones to crumble and fertilize the Russian soil? Well, he, Roger Brook, was just one of them.
Then it seemed as if the fur over his eyes dissolved and he saw Georgina standing beside him. She was enveloped in a halo of light. He wondered if she was dead and had come as an angel to carry his spirit away, united at last with his own. She was smiling down at him. In the warmth of her smile he fell asleep.
Epilogue
Roger had a terrible nightmare. He was being beaten unmercifully. Someone was alternately smashing fists into his ribs and slapping his face and thighs. Groaning and moaning, he made a feeble attempt to escape the blows by turning his head from side to side. Then he managed to open his eyes. Candlelight told him it was night.
An ugly giant of a man, naked to the waist and with beads of sweat standing out on his forehead was belaboring him vigorously. The ugly man grinned and said in Russian:
'That is better, friend. I feared we were going to lose you.'
Roger's breath was coming in painful gasps, so he could not reply or ask any questions. The pummeling and slapping continued. He became conscious that he was lying on a bed, nearly naked, and that there were hot water bottles at his feet and behind his neck.
Apparently at last satisfied with the result of his exertions, the giant stood back, covered Roger with blankets, then went to the door and shouted something. Two minutes later a middle aged man and a portly, well-dressed woman came into the room. She was carrying a pewter mug that held a steaming liquid. While they stood on either side of Roger, the lady fed the brew to him with a spoon, and he found it to be mulled wine. After he had had a few sips, he had the strength to ask in Russian:
'Where am I?'
To his surprise the man answered in English. 'My name is William Colgin. I am a fur trader and you are in my house. Our coachman, Jan, has been massaging you. We feared you dead, and are greatly pleased that you have recovered.'
Full realization of the past then flooded back to Roger and he asked anxiously, 'Have you seen aught of an English girl? She was wearing men's clothes. We parted up on the cliff, a few miles east of the town.'
It was the lady who replied. 'Yes. You have no need to be concerned for her. She now lies in bed in the next room. It was she who took my husband and others back the way she had come, to find and bring you in. By the time they returned she was near overcome with exhaustion and distraught with anxiety. I'd not have wagered a penny herring that we'd succeed in reviving you, but I told her I was confident we could; so she was persuaded by me to imbibe a sleeping draught. When you have finished this wine, I am going to prescribe one for you, too.'
It was daylight when Roger was roused by a soft kiss on his lips. Mary, clad in a dressing gown much too large for her, was smiling down at him. Quickly she told him how he had been rescued.
'After you had sent me off on my own,' she said, 'I suddenly had a feeling that 'twas not really your intent to try to get to Riga. My belief was confirmed by looking at the bits of honey and marzipan you had made me take. I felt certain you had given all we had left to me. You had already become so weak that, without sustenance of any kind, I doubt if you could have walked another ten miles, let alone muster the strength to break into a house and rob a larder. I was much of a mind to turn back. But I realised you were giving your life for me, so I decided that I ought to accept it and do my utmost to save yours as well.
'On the outskirts of the town I met a peddler and enquired of him the whereabouts of the town hall. He kindly took me there, and I asked if there was an English family living in the town. Good people there gave me hot soup and drove me in a sleigh here, to Mr. and Mrs. Colgin. To them I told the truth about you; that, although wearing a French uniform, you were an English gentleman in disguise. A party was quickly assembled and we went out with lanterns to search for you. In the dark I don't think we should ever have found you, but we saw a most strange light, like a will-o'-the-wisp, and we walked in that direction to find out what it could be. As we approached, it vanished, but below where it had been hovering was your body.'
Roger felt certain that the light must have been an emanation from Georgina's spirit, and that by the strange psychic link between them she had saved him yet again. But he could not spoil Mary's belief that she alone had been responsible on this occasion; and, indeed, his guardian angel could not have caused his half frozen body to be recovered and revived. Taking her hand, he squeezed it and said:
'My splendid Mary. 'Twas stupid in me not to have thought of sending you ahead of me, into a town earlier. But until we had been reduced to such desperate straits I would have been loath to allow you to face the dangers of the road alone. As long, too, as we were in the heart of Russia, we could scarce expect to come upon any English people who could believe me to be their countryman and give me their protection. It is to your courage and good sense that I owe my life.'
She shook her head. 'But, my love, 'tis to you that I owe mine. It was your willingness to die, so that I might live that saved us both.'
An hour later a doctor, who had been sent for to examine Mary's eye, arrived. Roger knew nothing of this until Mr. Colgin came in to tell him the result. Whether she would regain the sight of the injured eye was very dubious, but it was just possible. If so, that would be due to the fact that ever since she had sustained the injury she had kept a bandage over it, and no attempt had been made to remove the great scab that had formed in the socket above the eyeball. The doctor had eased off the congealed mass of dried blood and tissue and at once put on a new bandage, which was not to be taken off for a week or more, except for brief intervals in a darkened room.
For three days they remained, recruiting their strength, with the hospitable Golgins. By the end of that time, when removing the bandage, Mary could distinguish the flame of a candle; but the doctor would not encourage her to believe that the sight of the eye would ever be fully restored.