Read The Launching of Roger Brook Online
Authors: Dennis Wheatley
‘The plan is well devised,’ muttered the Abbé, ‘but so startling that I have as yet scarce taken it in. Tell me though, if you mean to act the highwayman where is the necessity for me to play a part?’
‘’Twill be for you, Abbé, and you’ll do me this great kindness, to speak with him when we halt his coach, while I remain at some little distance. Unless someone whom he knows parleys with him civilly he might think that we are highwaymen in truth, and call on his servants to fire upon us with their blunderbusses. To be filled full of lead would be but a poor ending to such an undertaking. Besides, I am most averse to having him think that he has been set upon by some cut-purse. Though we’ll have no seconds I am anxious that all the usual courtesies should be observed, and that we should fight like gentlemen.’
De Périgord sighed. ‘I follow your reasoning, but am most loath to aid you in this desperate business. I know nothing of your ability with the rapier, but I do know that de Caylus is counted one of the finest swordsmen in France. He has fought a score of times, and ’tis scarce two months ago that he made a sorry mess of M. de la Tour d’Auvergne in a matter of minutes.’
‘I am prepared for the worst,’ said Roger soberly, ‘but at least I will stand a better chance than the Vicomte, for I have bested him in many a practice bout.’
‘But ’tis heads de Caylus wins and tails you lose,’ protested the Abbé. ‘All the odds are that you will be killed yourself; but if you are not, and kill him, half the police in France will be after you for murder.’
‘I know it, I tell you,’ Roger insisted. ‘But I see no other chance of preserving Athénaïs from the lust of this abominable quadroon.’
‘Maybe,’ the Abbé countered. ‘But I am by no means
convinced as yet that you are justified in throwing away your life on that account. I beg you to consider the facts coolly and to view them in their proper perspective. I cannot believe that Mademoiselle de Rochambeau is either better or worse than most other young women of our aristocracy. They emerge from childhood knowing nothing of men, and so develop romantic ideas about them. Those who are wise do not expect to find romance with their husband, since they know beforehand that he will be some stranger selected for them by their family; but they endeavour to make of him a friend. Once married, society permits them to take as many lovers as they wish, and the husband who seeks to thwart them in that succeeds only in making himself the laughing-stock of his acquaintances.
‘Should your beautiful Athénaïs become the Countess de Caylus she will, within a month, have half a hundred attractive men pleading with her to give them a rendezvous; and she would be a freak of nature should she refuse them all. Surely you see that by this marriage taking place you have nothing to lose and everything to gain? In all our lives there come at times unpleasant passages which we are called upon to face. Persuade the girl to put a brave front on her honeymoon. M. de Caylus is far too hardened a roué not to tire of a young and inexperienced bedfellow very quickly. Before October is out she’ll be free to console herself with you, and you will have one of the loveliest women in Paris as your mistress. Is that not a better prospect than for her to be immured in a convent, and you to be lying headless in a felon’s grave?’
Roger could not know that it was the future Arch-Chancellor of a new French Empire, the bounds of which would spread from the Baltic to the southernmost tip of Italy, and the great diplomat of his century, who was exercising all his persuasive arts upon him; but he did know that his friend, the Abbé de Talleyrand-Périgord had given a fair and not overdrawn picture of French society in the age in which they were living. All that the Abbé said was true, plausible and, if his advice was accepted, almost inevitable. Yet Roger could not reconcile himself to it.
‘No, Abbé,’ he said quietly, ‘I know that you have reason on your side; but there is no evading the fact that neither Athénaïs nor I will accept a continuance of our love upon such terms.’
De Périgord regarded him with a smile in which there was no longer any trace of cynicism. ‘You are mad, of course,’ he murmured thoughtfully. ‘All Englishmen are mad, and that, no doubt, accounts for it; but I confess to having a sneaking admiration for your madness. So be it, then. Since you are determined to throw away your life and seek my aid in doing so, I will, however reluctantly, give it you. When and where do you propose to make this suicidal attempt on M. de Caylus?’
‘There again, I must crave your help,’ replied Roger. ‘I am poorly situated to ascertain his movements, whereas you, owing to your frequent visits to Versailles, should have no great difficulty in finding out when he will next make a journey thence after dark to Paris. But the marriage contract is to be signed in nine days’ time, so it is a matter of some urgency.’
For the moment the Abbé remained thoughtful, then he said: ‘De Caylus has a
petit maison
in the Bois de Meudon. ’Tis there that he disports himself with any courtesan to whom he takes a fancy. You may recall my mentioning Olympe, the little Opera girl on whose account he attempted to avenge himself on me last summer. When we had wearied of one another she was tempted back to him by his money, and they still meet with some frequency. Olympe and I have remained good friends and she should be able to tell me when de Caylus will next be passing a night at Meudon.’
‘I will hold myself in readiness,’ Roger volunteered, ‘and be prepared to join you at any time. I only pray that it may be soon.’
The Abbé nodded. ‘I realise the urgency. And while I feel that a meeting on the road ‘twixt Versailles and Meudon offers the best prospect of being undisturbed, should that not prove possible I will find out where else de Caylus may be met with on the road at night, before the week is out. Owing to my lameness I must go to the place by coach, but ’tis essential that you should be mounted, and mounted well; since your life will depend on the speed with which you can get away from the vicinity once the affair is over. The best plan, I think, would be for me to send you a simple message giving only the time and place where you are to rendezvous with me. We will then go on in company for
the last mile or so, to select a suitable spot at which to hold up de Caylus’s coach.’
These details having been settled, Roger endeavoured to express his gratitude; but the Abbé waved aside his thanks, yawned once more and said:
‘Think nothing of it. ’Tis you who elect to surround your pleasures with so dramatic and dangerous an aura. For myself, I doubt if even a female archangel could woo me into deliberately courting death on her behalf. ’Tis such a marvellous day and hour in which to live. It will not last, alas! Night and darkness are almost upon us. The starving pack is already stirring in its noisome kennels, and within a year or two will, I doubt not, have torn many of us limb from limb. As for those who come after, none will know what the sweetness of life can be who have not lived in Paris before the Revolution.’
‘
Aprés nous le deluge
, eh?’ Roger smiled.
De Périgord stood up and drew his shot-silk gown about him. ‘It profits one little to swim against the tide, so a wise man swims with it. Now, if you will forgive me, I must make myself presentable to receive those foolish friends of mine, who cannot let well alone; and, instead of rejoicing in all the good things that God has sent them, must ever be striving to bring about some new order of society, which will inevitably put a halter about their own necks.’
‘He who is forewarned is forearmed,’ suggested Roger. ‘I have a feeling that, whatever may befall you, you will find some way to survive it.’
Napoleon’s future Arch-Chancellor laid a hand upon his shoulder. ‘May your kind prophecy be true; and, with more immediate cause, I hope the same for you.’ Upon which, they parted.
That night Roger started putting his affairs in order. He wrote three letters and made a will. The first letter was a very brief one to his father asking forgiveness for the disappointment he had caused him; the second a somewhat longer one to his mother telling her something of his love affair and the circumstances which made it imperative that he should risk his life; the third, a very long one to Georgina, saying that he felt sure that his previous letter to her must have gone astray, and giving a vivid picture, without reservations, of his four years in France. In his will he left his money to his mother, his sword to M. de la Tour
d’Auvergne, his books to the Abbé de Périgord, and his clothes to Chenou.
The following evening he went round to see de la Tour d’Auvergne, explained what he planned to do and gave him the four documents, all contained in one large covering envelope, asking that he would deal with them should de Caylus emerge the victor by delivering a mortal thrust.
The Vicomte listened gravely till Roger had finished, then he said: ‘I honour you greatly for the risk you are about to take. De Caylus is a terrible antagonist and, even if fortune favours you, should you be caught you will certainly be tried for murder.’
‘I hope to escape that,’ Roger replied, and went on to explain. ‘If all goes well only Athénaïs, de Périgord and yourself will ever know who killed the Count. I shall return at once to the Hôtel de Rochambeau and resume my normal activities there next day. There is no reason whatever why anyone should suspect me of the killing. In fact, ’tis of paramount importance that they should not, myself apart, on account of Athénaïs.’
‘I see your thought,’ the Vicomte nodded. ‘If it becomes known that ’twas you who fought on Athénaïs’s behalf, ’twill be said that you have been having an affair with her. As an unmarried girl she will be completely ruined and her father is certain to force her to take the veil as the only way of restoring the family honour. But think you de Périgord will be able to induce de Caylus to fight without knowing who it is that sends the challenge?’
‘Oh, surely! The Count at least does not lack for courage, and has fought many times. He must by now have superb confidence in his ability to hold his own against any man; so I cannot think for one moment that he would refuse a challenge, once he is assured that it comes from a person whose birth entitles him to send it.’
‘’Twill, all the same, be a most unusual meeting; and lest some unforeseen circumstances arise I would fain accompany you to it, to be on hand if needed.’
‘Nay,’ protested Roger, ‘I thank you mightily. But I have no wish to involve you. Besides, you are not yet fully recovered from your wound.’
‘I am not mended to the point of wielding a sword, but I have been riding again recently. You will need someone to
hold your horse, and the Abbé being a priest ’tis but right that he should leave the scene as soon as he has assured de Caylus that his challenger is one who has the right to bear arms. Moreover, the Count is much more likely to accept your challenge if he is informed that someone of my status is present to see fair play.’
‘All that you say is true,’ Roger admitted, ‘and I dare take no chances; so I accept your offer gratefully. As soon as I hear from de Périgord about a rendezvous I will let you know it, and when the time comes we will ride thither together.’
The following two days, Thursday and Friday, Roger spent both his mornings and evenings at a fencing-school he had occasionally frequented, which lay just off the
Halles
. It was largely a resort of soldiers of fortune, and on each occasion he offered two
louis
to anyone who could best him. Out of ten bouts he lost only three, and two of those were at the end of evening sessions when his wrist was tired, so he felt that he would at least be able to make the redoubtable de Caylus work very hard to obtain a victory.
On the Friday evening he received a brief note from the Abbé, which ran:
‘Your man plans to spend Monday night at Meudon with Olympe. His habit on such occasions is to leave Versailles about eight o’clock; but to be on the safe side I will be waiting for you at half-past seven, a half-mile beyond Sevres on the Sevres-Chaville road.’
On Saturday morning Roger duly informed de la Tour d’Auvergne of the rendezvous, and got in three more fencing-bouts. Then, at six o’clock, he kept his appointment with Athénaïs.
When he told her his intentions she begged him not to expose himself and said that she would rather take the veil than have him risk his life for her sake. On his proving adamant she declared that she would go straight downstairs and defy her father, and thus render Roger’s desperate scheme futile.
‘My angel,’ he said tenderly, ‘I cannot stop you, but ’twould then be your act which would be futile. Having accepted the help of Monsieurs de Périgord and de la Tour d’Auvergne I cannot now draw back, or they would look upon me as a coward. I beg you not to plead further with
me for, whatever you may do, I am now determined to fight de Caylus and kill him if I can.’
Plead she did, but without avail; and this, which they knew might be their last meeting, ended by her giving him her kerchief, to wear as her champion, and promising to refrain from burning her boats until Tuesday, the day before the wedding, by which time she would know whether her fiancé or her lover had proved the victor.
It was later that evening that M. de Rochambeau said to Roger: ‘Although ’tis Sunday tomorrow I intend to hold a conference. M. de Rayneval has returned in secret from the United Provinces and affairs there have now reached a point at which important decisions must be taken without further delay. During the past few months, M. de Montmorin seems to have caught His Majesty’s congenital complaint of indecision; but I will have him shilly-shally with us no longer. He is coming here at four o’clock and my friends and I intend to put our views before him in no uncertain manner. We shall be fifteen, all told, so have the conference table prepared and hold yourself in readiness. I wish you to be present in the room to take note of the various viewpoints that may be expressed, and to draft a document which I plan that M. de Rayneval should take back with him.’
On numerous previous occasions Roger had attended such conferences for a similar purpose and, apart from the fact that this one was to be somewhat larger than usual, there was no reason to suppose that anything of exceptional interest would transpire at it. Having accepted the Marquis’s orders with his habitual quiet deference, he was so wrapped up in his own affairs that he thought no more of it till the following afternoon.