Polonaise (28 page)

‘And now regrets it,' said forthright Jan.

‘Understandably.' Jenny's tone was dry. ‘Since he has just ridden out, with the King of Prussia, to meet Napoleon on the river between here and Tilsit.'

‘What?' Glynde turned on her furiously. ‘I don't believe it!'

‘No?' She met his angry gaze squarely. ‘Go over to the palace, then, and ask where they all are. The Prince is gone too.' To the Princess, ‘I think he had hoped to present Casimir to the Tsar, but it was very evidently not the moment. He sent for his horse instead, and has joined the cortege that has accompanied Tsar and King down to the Niemen.'

‘Where are they meeting, then?' asked Jan.

‘On a raft Napoleon has had built in midstream. Lech told
me.' She turned again to the Princess. ‘They worked all night. A raft, with two pavilions. Well,' she smiled, ‘huts really. Decorated with Napoleon's initial, and the Tsar's. No sop for the poor King of Prussia. I suppose he will have to wait on the river-bank while his fate, his wife's, and their country's, is decided. And it is beginning to rain, too,' she added. ‘That's why Casimir and I came back. They are going to have a damp time of it, I'm afraid.'

‘The Prince went, too?' Isobel asked.

‘Yes. I hope he doesn't get too wet.'

Nobody said anything for a moment. They had all in their different ways been shocked by the change in the Prince's appearance; all had a vision of him sitting his horse on the bank of the Niemen, getting wet.

‘You've hardly told us about your journey.' Glynde changed the subject. ‘How did things seem, as you came across Russian Poland? And did you really come all that way without incident?'

Did he imagine a quick exchange of glances between the Princess and Jenny Peverel? ‘Nothing to signify,' said the Princess carelessly. ‘As to the country; it's bleak of course, and barbarous, and poverty-stricken, but we certainly saw no sign of disaffection, did we, Jenny?'

‘We saw nothing,' said Jenny flatly. ‘We came on by-roads, Mr. Rendel; camped in the carriages; it was remarkably uncomfortable.'

‘It was a great lark,' broke in Casimir. ‘I rode ahead with –'

‘That's enough, Casimir.' The Princess's voice was sharp. ‘Take him away, Jenny. He's making my head ache.'

It was an obvious cue to leave and the two men walked away in thoughtful silence.

The two Emperors conferred all day, and emerged apparently the greatest of friends. ‘If only one knew what they had said!' exclaimed Jan.

‘They've agreed a peace by the look of things, coming out arm in arm like that. But what it will mean for the world …' Glynde turned to greet Adam Czartoryski. ‘What news, Adam?'

‘The worst! Napoleon has charmed my master into
friendship. God knows what concessions he has made. I tremble for the future of Poland.'

Two days later, Napoleon declared Tilsit a neutral zone, and the Tsar and King of Prussia left their crowded lodgings on the east side of the Niemen and moved over to join him there. ‘It's unbelievable,' exclaimed Glynde. ‘Two weeks ago, they were confronting each other across the savage field of Friedland; now it's all wining and dining and reviewing each other's troops.'

‘Which I would like to see,' said Jan. ‘Shall we get ourselves a couple of passes to cross the river? You're a civilian after all, no reason why you shouldn't. Sir Robert Wilson went yesterday, disguised as a Russian officer. He told me so.'

‘Robert Wilson is a law unto himself!' Glynde laughed. ‘But, yes, what's safe for him, British Military Adviser to the Tsar, should be safe enough for two harmless travellers.'

‘Do let's go. Something to tell our grandchildren.'

‘I don't know. Better not, I think.' Jan's very eagerness increased Glynde's habitual caution. But in the end he gave in, and they joined the crowd crossing and recrossing the river that had been such an absolute barrier only a few days before. They found the little town of Tilsit so crowded that any chance of being noticed seemed remote, and saw several Russian officers of their acquaintance, rather carelessly disguised as civilians, in the crowd that watched the arrival of the Queen of Prussia to join with her husband in pleas for their country.

‘Poor lady,' said Jan. ‘Everyone knows how she and Napoleon hate each other. Shall we go?'

‘Yes. I think we should call on the Princess when we get back and enquire after her husband. Dr. Wylie seems to think the chill he caught by the river the other day quite serious.'

They were accosted just as they were about to step into a boat to be rowed back to the other side of the river. ‘Your papers, messieurs, if you please.' The French officer was perfectly civil, but Glynde's heart sank as they handed over their passes.

‘Yes, these are quite in order,' said the man. ‘So far as they go. You are Monsieur Rendel and Monsieur Warrington, and have permission to cross the river, but what I want to know is just who you are and why you are come.'

‘Curiosity,' said Glynde. ‘To see your Emperor. We are travellers, sir, tourists; it was an opportunity not to be missed.'

‘You were seen standing very close when the King of Prussia greeted our Emperor. There have been rumours of an assassination attempt. You will come with me to my superior, if you please, and explain yourselves to him.'

‘But we are unarmed.' Glynde had insisted on this. ‘What harm could we have done the Emperor, even if we had wished to?'

‘You are unarmed now,' said the officer. ‘Having failed in your attempt, you had plenty of chances to get rid of the weapon on your way back here. My men could not follow you closely enough to be sure of this, but they are searching now.'

‘And you will find nothing.' Glynde was angry, because he was beginning to be very much afraid.

‘So I hope, for your sakes.' His men had closed in round them. ‘This way, gentlemen. We are wasting time here. I have not the authority to release you, even if I were inclined to do so, which I am not. You British have a great stake in the Emperor's death, particularly now.'

‘But I am American,' protested Jan. ‘How would I ever have connived in such a monstrous thing?'

‘Tell that to my master.'

Locked in a tolerably comfortable cell on an upper floor of the town gaol, they looked at each other in gloomy silence. ‘I am so very sorry,' said Jan at last. ‘This is entirely my fault. What do you think will happen to us, Glynde?'

‘Nothing to you. Of that I am sure. I wish I felt quite so confident about my own prospects.' He could not help thinking of the English prisoners who had died, mysterious apparent suicides in French prisons. ‘If they separate us, Jan, which I hope they will for your sake, you'll speak up for me, won't you? Whatever happens, you'll tell the world I did not kill myself.'

‘Of course. But it won't happen.'

Time dragged by, endless, until at last the jingling of keys announced their gaoler, who led them down to a side-entrance, where a closed carriage waited with a small escort of troops. ‘You're in luck,' he said. ‘He wants to see you at once. I've known prisoners wait days, weeks even.'

‘Who?' asked Glynde, but the carriage door slammed on the question.

‘If it's Fouché, I hardly call it luck,' said Jan, and they fell silent again, both of them thinking about Napoleon's formidable Chief of Police.

‘He lives in style at all events.' Glynde tried for a light note as the carriage drove through a guarded archway into the yard of a town house that was almost a palace. ‘No chance of escape.' He was a little afraid his companion might do something rash.

‘No. Madness,' Jan agreed.

Descending from the carriage, they saw that the escort had remained at the entrance, leaving just one man to guard them. ‘This way, gentlemen.' He led them up porticoed steps. ‘My master says you are to consider yourselves his guests.'

‘Very civil of him,' said Glynde. ‘Who is your master?'

But the man appeared not to have heard the question, as he led the way up a handsome staircase to the main floor of the house. Opening a door, he ushered them in, said, ‘The gentlemen, sir,' and left them.

‘The very foolish gentlemen.' The slender, grey-haired man who awaited them looked from one to the other, then held out his hand in welcome to Jan. ‘Mr. Warrington.' He took a difficult step forward, ‘And Mr. Rendel! May I welcome you to what, I must remind you, is technically the soil of France.'

‘Declared neutral,' said Glynde. ‘Monsieur Talleyrand –' And then, ‘I beg your pardon, I should say –'

‘No, no. Talleyrand will do very well. My master was so good as to make me a Prince, but I still prefer my family's name, for reasons that baffle even myself.' He had shaken Jan's hand, now held Glynde's, looking him over with eyes that seemed to miss nothing. ‘I cannot tell you how delighted I am with your quite idiotic rashness, Mr. Rendel. I have been very much wishing to meet you.'

‘To meet me?' Nothing was going as Glynde had expected. Had feared? His hand parted from Talleyrand's reluctantly as he met look with look.

‘Yes. I knew your mother, so many years ago that it makes me feel old to recall it, something I particularly dislike. When I learned that Fouché's men had picked you up, risking your life here in Tilsit, I could not resist arranging the meeting.
But, forgive me, you gentlemen must be starving. You were presumably on your way home to your dinner, when you were arrested. Quite rightly, if I may say so. Tilsit is no place for an Englishman at this moment.' He took another of his halting steps forward to a table with wine and glasses.

‘Please let me.' Glynde anticipated him.

‘With pleasure. And then we will eat. Or rather, you will eat while I entertain you with scintillating conversation. I have been dining with my Emperor and the unfortunate King and Queen of Prussia,' he explained, ‘or I would have released you from what must have been a quite anxious period of detention long before this. Though I consider that it served you richly right, and will, I trust, be a lasting lesson to you, Mr. Rendel. Mr. Warrington I have no need to scold. As an American, he is free of Europe, though I can think of circumstances in which he might find the freedom more theory than practice.'

‘You're right there.' Jan and Glynde exchanged glances, remembering their first meeting, and Glynde found himself wondering, as he poured and passed the wine, if Talleyrand, with Fouché's omniscience at his disposal, did not perhaps know about it, too.

‘Your very good health, gentlemen,' Talleyrand raised his glass. ‘But bring your wine with you. I have no doubt you have young men's appetites, and propose to let you help yourselves, so that we can talk undisturbed.' He took his seat at the head of a table lavishly supplied with smoked fish and cold meats and gestured them to do likewise. ‘Are you Pole enough to enjoy their inevitable salad of beet greens, Mr. Warrington?'

‘I'm learning to like it, sir. You appear to know all about us.'

‘I have made it my study since you became the Tsar Alexander's good friends. He is a man who interests me enormously; such a chapter of contradictions. Can you tell me, Mr. Rendel, which is the real man?'

Glynde put down his glass and looked at him very straight. ‘I would need to know two things first, sir.'

‘Yes?'

‘Are we guests or prisoners, and, why do you want to know?'

‘Two very good questions. To the first, my guests, of course.

To put it on no higher level, I do not intend that anything should tarnish the glow of this meeting between the world's two great men, and, has it not struck you, Mr. Rendel, that the Tsar would hardly be pleased at the arrest of men who have been his constant companions.'

‘No.' Surprised. ‘It had not, to tell truth. And, forgive me, I am not sure you are right. I think, at the moment, that we represent what the Tsar is turning away from. We have felt, Mr. Warrington and I, that our presence was no longer welcome.'

‘Especially yours?'

‘Yes.' Glynde was already angry with himself for having spoken so freely. ‘You have not answered my second question.'

‘Why I want to know? But you must see that, Mr. Rendel. My Emperor and the Tsar are the two masters of Europe; they hold its future in their hands, are planning it now. I am, by the accident that lamed me, and whether I like it or not, a man of peace. I have lived through enough violence for a lifetime, and Europe has lived it with me. Did you see the battlefield of Friedland? No, of course you did not.'

‘We've seen enough,' said Glynde.

‘To understand what I am saying? Good. Then think. Now, this very moment, these few days, here on the outskirts of Europe, these two men are deciding its future, for years, perhaps, for ever. Anything any of us can contribute to their getting it right is of the most immense importance. My master listens to me, sometimes.'

‘Please do not for a moment imagine that the Tsar ever listens to us,' said Glynde.

‘But to Adam Czartoryski, perhaps?'

‘No longer, I am afraid.'

‘Unfortunate. Prince Ovinski?'

‘I don't know. Besides, he is ill.'

‘Prince Ovinski? Now, that I did not know. I really begin to believe that Poland's star is crossed.'

‘Poland's?' Jan had been eating and drinking heartily, leaving the conversation to the other two. ‘You care about Poland, Prince?'

‘Any thinking man who cares about Europe must consider Poland, Mr. Warrington. If you romantic Poles would only
leave tilting at windmills and remember this, we would all go on much better at the conference table, where, in the end, the fate of nations is settled. Oh, I give you gallantry, every time, but where is the statesmanship that should back it? Let me refill your glass, Mr. Warrington, and we will drink a toast. To your Mr. Jefferson: now there is a statesman!' He reached over to refill Jan's glass from the bottle that stood on his side of the table. ‘To Mr. Jefferson! A great egalitarian and a great man of peace.'