Part 51 (1/2)
”I perceive,” said he, at last, ”you are less sanguine than I am. Is it not so?”
”You mistake me, Monsieur l'Abbe,” said I; ”my depression has a selfish origin. I have been long weary of this career of mine, and the note which you see there was the beginning of a formal renunciation of it.”
”It is impossible you could be so insane,” cried he. ”You are not one of that vulgar herd that can be scared from a n.o.ble duty by a mere name. It is not the word 'spy' that could wound you, enlisted as you are in the n.o.blest cause that ever engaged heroism, and in which the first men of France are your a.s.sociates.”
”I am no Frenchman, Abbe,” said I; ”remember that.”
”But you are a good Catholic,” said he, promptly, ”and, Ursule tells me, well versed in every duty of the faith.”
I by no means fancied the turn our discussion was likely to take. More than once before had the Abbe made allusion to the principles which he hoped might animate me, and which at some future time might obtain for me an admission into his own order; so I hastily changed the topic, by declaring that this journey I should certainly undertake, whatever resolve I might come to for the future.
He had far too much tact to persevere on an unpleasant theme, and after some further allusion to the prospects before me he wished me good-night, and left me. I took my departure the next morning for Hamburg; since latterly some impediments had been thrown in our way about landing in France, and the process of verifying our pa.s.sports as ”agents secrets” occupied much time, and caused delay. On the journey thither I made acquaintance with a young Pole, who, exchanging with me the private signal, showed that he was a ”brother of the craft.” He was a fine, das.h.i.+ng, good-looking fellow, with a certain air of pretension and swagger about him that savored more of the adventurer than of the character he wished to a.s.sume. He told me that he was the son of the Empress Catherine, and that his father had been a soldier of the Imperial Guard. The story might or might not have been true, but at all events he seemed to believe and was exceedingly vain of it.
With all the secret plotting and political intrigue of the day he appeared quite conversant, and found it difficult to believe in my ignorance or apathy.
”I conceive,” said he, at last, ”that you are one of those who feel ashamed of your position, and dislike the word 'spy.' Be it so; it is not a flattering name. But have we not within ourselves the power to extort by force the degree of consideration we would be held in? Any act of insubordination from one or two, or even three of us, would be sure to meet its penalty. That price has been paid before.” [Here he made a significant sign, by rapidly drawing his hand across his throat.] ”But if we combined, met at some appointed spot, discussed our rights, and agreed upon the means of a.s.serting them, do you believe that there exists the king or kaiser who could refuse the demand? It is not enough for me that I can pa.s.s a frontier by a secret signal, enter a minister's cabinet while others wait in the antechamber, or even ascend the back stairs of a palace. I want a place and a recognition in society; I want that standing in the world to which my habits and manners ent.i.tle me, and for which now my hand is ever on the hilt of a rapier or the trigger of a pistol to secure. It is an outrage on us that this has been delayed so long; but if it be deferred a little longer, the remedy will have pa.s.sed from our hands. Already some of the governments of the Continent begin to suspect that the system works badly.”
”My astonishment is only that it ever could have been permitted,” broke I in; ”for it is plain that to know the secrets of others, each country has had to sacrifice its own.”
He gave a smile of supreme contempt, and replied,--
”You are but an apprentice of the trade, after all, Monsieur Gervois, though I have often heard you called a man of tact and shrewdness. Do you not know that we are not the agents of governments or of cabinets, but of those who rule cabinets, dread them, and betray them? The half-dozen crowned heads who rule Europe form a little fraternity apart from all the world. The interests, the pa.s.sions, the jealousies, and the ambition of the several nations may involve them in wars, compel them to stand in hostility against each other and be what is called great enemies; but while their cannon are thundering and their cavalry charging, while squadrons are cras.h.i.+ng and squares are breaking, they for whose sake the blood is shed and life poured forth are calmly considering whether they should gain most by victory or defeat, and how far the great cause--the subjugation of the nia.s.ses to the will of one--can be benefited or r.e.t.a.r.ded by any policy they would pursue.”
I need not follow him in his reasonings,--indeed, they were more ingenious and astute than I should be able to convey by repet.i.tion. His theory was, that the rulers of states maintained a secret understanding with each other; that however the casualties of fortune should fall heavily on their countries, they themselves should be exempted from such consequences; and that the people might fall, but dynasties should be spared. As long as the Bourbons sat on the throne of France, the compact was a safe and a sure one. The Revolution, however, has broken up the sacred league, and none can tell now what people are next ripe for revolt. As Bonaparte for the moment represents power in France, every effort has been made by the sovereign to draw him into this alliance,--not, of course, to found a dynasty, but to serve the cause of the rightful one. I abstain from entering more fully into his views, or citing the ma.s.s of proofs by which he endeavored to sustain them. If not convinced by his arguments, I am free to own that they made a deep impression upon me; rendered more so, perhaps, from the number of circ.u.mstances I could myself call to mind which in my own secret service tended to corroborate them.
I asked him whither he was then going, and he told me to Moscow.
”Russia and England meditate a war,” said he, ”the two cabinets are embroiled; and I am hastening with an autograph letter from one great personage to another to say with what regret he countersigns a policy so distasteful, and how sincerely he preserves the tie of personal friends.h.i.+p. Believe me,” said he, laughing, ”we are the professed traitors of the world; but we are simple-hearted and honest, if weighed in the scale with those who employ us!”
If I was amused by much of what he said, I was also piqued at the tone of superiority he a.s.sumed towards me, as he very frankly intimated that by the low estimation in which I held my walk in life I had contrived to make it still meaner and lower.
”It rests with ourselves,” said he, ”to be the diplomatists of Europe.
Your men who pore over treaties and maps and protocols may plan and scheme to their hearts' content; but we can act. If I choose to change the destination of this letter, and deliver it at Berlin or Vienna; or if I go forward now to Moscow, and convey the answer to Paris, instead of London, do you not suppose that the world would feel it, and to its very centre, too?”
He paused for a minute or two, and then added,--
”You are wondering all this while within yourself why one who knows so well the price of treason has not earned it; and shall I tell you? I am not always aware of the value of my tidings. I may be charged with a secret treaty. It may be a piece of court gossip, the mishap of an archd.u.c.h.ess, or the portrait of a court favorite. This very letter--whose contents I believe I know--I am perhaps deceived in. Who can tell, till it be opened, if my treachery be worth a farthing?”
If there was anything wanting to the measure of abhorrence with which I regarded my career, it was amply supplied by such doctrines as these; but probably much of the disgust they were calculated to inspire was lost in the amus.e.m.e.nt the narrator afforded me. Everything about him bespoke levity rather than systematic rascality; and yet he was one who appeared to have thought profoundly on men and the world.
”I 'll wager a crown,” said he, as we jumped into the boat that was to row us on sh.o.r.e, ”that you are fully bent on hiding yourself and your shame in the 'Golden Plover,' or the 'Pilot's Rest,' or some such obscure hotel; but this you shall not for the present. You are my guest while we stay at Hamburg. Unfortunately, the time must needs be brief to both of us. To-morrow we shall be on the road; but to-day is our own.”
I did not consent without reluctance; but he would not take a refusal, and so I yielded; and away we went together to the ”Schleswicker Hof,” a magnificent hotel in the finest quarter of the town.
”No need to show your pa.s.sport to any one,” said he to me, in a whisper, as we entered the house; ”I 'll arrange all.”
By the time I had refreshed myself with a bath and dressed, the waiter came to say that Count Ysaffich was waiting dinner for me; and though I gladly would have asked a few particulars of one with whose name and person he seemed evidently acquainted, there was no time allowed me, as he led the way to a splendid apartment, where the table was already spread.
It was not without an effort that I recognized my friend the Count in his change of costume; for, though good-looking and even handsome before, he might now strike the beholder with admiration. He wore a blue military pelisse, richly braided with gold, and fastened with large Brandenburg b.u.t.tons. It was sufficiently open in front to display a vest of scarlet cloth, all slashed with gold. His trousers were black, with a broad gold band along the sides, while a richly embossed belt of Russia leather supported a sabre of most costly and gorgeous make. He wore several handsome decorations, and around the throat, by a broad blue ribbon, a splendid diamond cross, with the letters ”P. C.” in the centre.