The following afternoon Roger was driving towards Calais with all the speed that six good horses could give a well-sprung coach. With him were a middle-aged Foreign Office official named Broussalt, whom Talleyrand had nominated to advise Roger on protocol, a secretary and a valet, also provided by Talleyrand.
As the coach bounded along the rutty roads, Roger could think of only one thing. Beautiful Zanthe had gone from his mind like yesterday's ten thousand years. Even the fact that he carried Peace in his pocket and had achieved the greatest triumph of his career meant nothing to him now. His beloved Georgina, the one woman in the world who really mattered to him, had been stricken by a fell disease and lay in danger of her life. She might even by now be dead.
At that terrible thought he groaned aloud. Broussalt anxiously enquired what ailed him. He brusquely replied that it was the bumping of the coach but, when the others pleaded with him to order the postilion to reduce the pace, he would not hear of it.
By using his powers unscrupulously to deprive other travellers of their relays, by threatening laggard Postmasters with the loss of their positions, by bribes, curses and twice using across men's shoulders the riding switch he carried, he kept the coach hurtling through the night, so that his companions, now hungry because he refused to stop for meals, thought that they had been saddled with a madman.
He performed the seemingly impossible at that time, and reached Calais in twenty hours. Driving straight to the Port Authority, he presented his credentials and demanded the immediate use of the fastest vessel in the harbour. In vain Broussalt remonstrated with him that it was beneath the dignity of an Envoy Extraordinary to sail in anything less han a twenty-gun frigate. Neither of the frigates in Calais Roads could be made ready to sail before night; but a Revenue cutter was about to drop down to Boulogne, so he commandeered it and went aboard.
Since Britain and France were at war, the French Embassy in London was closed and empty. Therefore, the proper procedure would have been for the vessel carrying him to sail up the Thames and anchor in the Pool below the Tower, so that she could be used as a temporary Embassy. But Roger knew well that, if the wind were unfavourable, a day or more could be lost while tacking up the twisting bends of the river; so he ordered the Captain of the cutter to land him at Dover.
Fortunately the weather was mild, so the crossing was smooth and took less than three hours. Five miles out from the English coast they were challenged by a frigate; but they ran up the white flag with the Tricolour, and the frigate escorted them into Dover harbour.
There, Roger told Broussalt that it was his intention to go to London by road. He then ordered him to remain in the cutter and arrange for it to be escorted round to the Pool, where it was to await his pleasure.
The unhappy official threw his hands in the air and turned up his eyes to heaven. It was, he declared, unheard of for an Envoy Extraordinary to arrive unaccompanied at a foreign capital. The loss of prestige! What would the English think of them? He might have argued with a stone statue for all the satisfaction he got. Roger told him that the the First Consul did not have a red carpet put down before giving battle and that he, Roger, needed no frills to aid him in conducting the mission upon which he had been sent.
By the time he landed it was five o'clock and already dark. He was received by a group of officers, all extremely curious to know his business. Now he had to be careful and remember that he was supposed to be a Frenchman; so he told them in broken English that he carried letters for the Foreign Secretary and wished to be conveyed to London with all possible speed.
But at Dover he was subjected to infuriating delays. First he had to explain his business to an Admiral, then he was taken up to the castle and kept waiting there for over an hour before being interviewed by an elderly. General. After asking a score of questions, the majority of which were quite irrelevant, the General said he thought it would be best if Roger remained at Dover until London had been notified of his arrival and instructions received about him.'
At that Roger had great difficulty in keeping his temper. But, with a heavy accent, he said icily, 'You appear to mistake me, Monsieur le General, for a prisoner-of-war. I am nothing of the kind. I am a diplomatic representative and, unless you treat me as such, I shall make complaint of you to your Duke of York.'
Having no desire to risk the displeasure of his Commander-in-Chief, the General grumpily agreed to send Roger to London that night. He was given a good meal, then set off in a coach. A Captain Denistoun rode with him and he was accompanied by a mounted escort.
The roads in England were infinitely better than those in France so, although they travelled fairly fast, the going was not too rough to prevent Roger from dozing for a good part of the way. They reached London very early in the morning. Rousing as the coach rumbled along the Old Kent Road, Roger asked Denistoun whether he was taking him direct to the Foreign Office.
' No,' replied he Captain. ' As yet nobody there will have risen. My orders are to leave you in charge of the Officer of the Guard at the Horse Guards, then report your arrival to Lord Grenville as soon as he is available.'
That was more or less what Roger had expected. He then told Denistoun that before the war he had lived for some time in London and that he had heard just before leaving Paris that a great friend of his, the Countess of St. Ermins, was dangerously ill; so he was anxious to enquire about her.
The Captain agreed that they should call at the St. Ermins mansion in Berkeley Square. When they reached it the blinds were down. Roger, dreading the worst, was almost incoherent with distress; but Denistoun, fearing some trick by this 'frog-eater ' of whom he had been given charge, would not let him leave the coach. Instead he got out, knocked up the house and himself made enquiries from a sleepy footman.
He returned to say that Lady St. Ermins was at Stillwaters, her country home in Surrey. The servants in Berkeley Square had had no news of her for the past two days; but they were greatly worried, as it was feared that she would not recover from her illness.
Roger breathed again. At least she had still been alive the previous day, or they would have been sent news of her death. Now he must get to Stillwaters at the earliest possible moment. After some argument, on the plea that his business was of the utmost urgency, he persuaded Denistoun to take him straight to the Foreign Office.
By then it was seven o'clock. The Groom of the Chambers, who happened to be in the hall on their arrival, told them that His Lordship was not yet up, but was taking his morning chocolate in bed. Roger asked for pen, ink, paper and sealing wax, then wrote a brief note, which ran:
My Lord,
I pray you, show no recognition on receiving me. I am come to London under escort as Envoy Extraordinary from General Bonaparte. My business is most urgent, so I beg you to receive me without delay.
Having signed the note with his own name he sealed it, slipped a gold louis into the palm of the Groom of the Chambers and asked him to take it up. Five minutes later he was taken upstairs and shown into the Foreign Secretary's bedroom.
Lord Grenville was by nature a cold man and as little given to showing emotion as his cousin the Prime Minister. But on this occasion he did express surprise and his greeting was warm. Without a moment's delay Roger plunged into his business. Producing two letters, he said:
' My Lord, I bring great news. General Bonaparte has now been elected First Consul of the French Republic, with virtually dictatorial powers, and he desires Peace. This letter gives expression to his sentiments. The other is from M. de Talleyrand, who is again Foreign Minister, and it sets out the basic terms upon which the French are prepared to negotiate.'