Part 79 (1/2)
”Certainly,” replied Bonaparte, with a condescending nod.
”Consul, you have thrust me aside, you have no longer confidence in me. You have taken from me the post of minister of police, and given it to my enemy Regnier. That has given me pain, it has injured me; for it has branded me before all the world as a useless man, whom Bonaparte suspects. Your enemies have believed that my alienation from you would conduce to their advantage, and that out of the dismissed police prefect they might gain an enemy to Bonaparte.
Conspirators of all kinds have come to me--emissaries of Count de Lille, deputies from the royalists in Vendee, as well as from the red republicans, by whom you, Bonaparte, are as much hated as by the royalists, for they will never forgive you for putting yourself at the head of the republic, and making yourself their master. All of these parties have made propositions to me, all of them want me to join them. I have lent my ear to them all, I have been informed of all their plans, and am at this hour the sworn ally of both the republicans and the royalists. Oh! I beg you,” continued Fouche, as Bonaparte started up, and opened his lips to speak--”I beg you, general, hear me to the end, and do not interrupt me till I have told you all.--Yes, I have allied myself to three separate conspiracies, and have become zealous in them all. There is, first, that of the republicans, who hate you as a tyrant of the republic; there is, in the second place, the conspiracy of the royalists, who want to put the Count de Lille on the throne; and third, there is that of the genuine Capetists, who want to make the 'orphan of the Temple' Louis XVII. These three conspiracies have it as their first object to remove and destroy Consul Bonaparte. Yes, to reach this end the three have united, and made a mutual compromise. Whichever party succeeds in murdering you, is to come into power, and the others are to relinquish the field to it: and so if Bonaparte is killed by a republican dagger, the republic is to remain at present the recognized form of government; and if the ball of a royalist removes you, the republicans strike their banner, and grant that France shall determine, by a general ballot, ”whether it shall be a republic or a kingdom.”
”Well,” asked Bonaparte, calmly, as Fouche closed, and cast an inquiring glance at the consul's face, which was, notwithstanding, entirely cold and impenetrable--” well, why do you stop? I did not interrupt you with a question. Go on!”
”I will, consul. I have made myself a member of these three conspiracies; for, in order to contend with the heads of Cerberus, one must have them all joined; and in order to be the conqueror in a great affair, one must know who all his enemies are, and what are all their plans. I know all the plans of the allies, and because I know them, it is within my power to bring discontent and enmity among them, using for this end the third conspiracy--that of the dependants of Louis XVII., the orphan of the Temple. Through sympathy with him, I have divided the party of royalists; I have withdrawn from the Count de Lille many of his important dependants, and even some of the chief conspirators, who came to Paris to contend for Louis XVIII., have recently in secret bent the knee to Louis XVII., and sworn fidelity to him.”
”That is not true,” cried Bonaparte, vehemently. ”You are telling me nurses' stories, with which children may be frightened, but men not.
There are no secret meetings in Paris!”
”General, if your minister of police, Regnier, has told you so, he only shows that he is no man to be at the head of the police, and knows nothing of the detective service. I tell you, general, there are secret societies in Paris, and I ought to know, for I am a member of four separate ones.”
”Ah! sir,” sneered Bonaparte, ”you are out of your head! Before, you spoke of three conspiracies, and now they have grown to be four.”
”I am speaking now of secret societies, consul, for not every secret society can be called a conspiracy. Before, when I was giving account of conspiracies, I mentioned three; now, when we speak of secret societies, I have to mention a fourth. But this does not deserve the name of a conspiracy, for its object is not murder and revolution, nor does it arm itself with daggers and pistols.”
”I should be curious to know the name of your fourth society,” cried Bonaparte, impatiently.
”I will satisfy your curiosity, general. This fourth secret society bears the name 'the Bonapartists,' or--allow me to approach you closer, that the walls of the old palace may not hear the word--or 'the Imperialists.' ”
Bonaparte shrank back, and a glow of red pa.s.sed for a moment over his cheeks. ”What do you mean by that?”
”I mean by that, general, what I have already said: your brow is made not to wear laurels alone, but a crown, and there is only one way to destroy the other three conspiracies--the way proposed by the fourth secret society. In order to make the efforts of the republicans and royalists ineffective, and to tread them under your feet, France needs an emperor.”
”And do you want to make your manikin, Louis XVII., Emperor of France?”
”No, general,” answered Fouche, solemnly--”no; I want to make Consul Bonaparte Emperor of the French!”
The consul trembled, and his eyes flashed through the apartment, the former cabinet of Louis XVI., as if he wanted to convince himself that no one had heard this dangerous word of the future. Then he slowly bent forward without meeting Fouche's looks, which were intently fixed upon him.
A pause ensued--a long, anxious pause. Then Bonaparte slowly raised his eye again, and now it was filled as with sunlight.
”Is your fourth secret society numerous?” he asked, with that magical smile which won all hearts.
”It comprises artists, poets, scholars, and above every thing else, officers and generals,” replied Fouche. ”It grows more numerous every day, and as fortunately I have only been deposed from my place of minister of police, but still remain a member of the senate of the republic, it has been my effort to gain over in the senate influential members for my secret society of imperialists. If my hopes are crowned with success, the secret society will soon become an open one, and the senate will apply to you with a public request to put an end to all these conspiracies and intrigues, to place yourself at the head of France, and accept the imperial crown which the senate offers you. But--”
”I comprehend your 'but,' Fouche,” interrupted Bonaparte, eagerly.
”You want to make your conditions. An imperial crown does not fall direct from heaven upon the head of a man; there must be hands there to take it, and it might happen that they would be crushed by the falling crown. They must be paid for their heroism, therefore. Let us suppose, then, that I give credence to all your stories, even that about the empire of the future--tell me, now, what you demand.”
”General, if I show you and all France by facts that the country is rent by conspiracies, that the cancer of secret societies is eating into the very marrow of the land, and imperilling all its inst.i.tutions, will you confess to me then that I am better adapted to be the head of the police than M. Regnier d'Angely, who insists and dares to say to you that there are no secret societies in France?”
”Prove to me by facts the existence of your conspiracies, and I will commission you to help me destroy this hydra's head. Give me the proofs, and you shall be head of police again.”
Fouche bowed. ”You shall have the proofs, general, to-day--at once, provided that we thoroughly understand each other. I am ambitious, general, and I have no wish to be driven back for a single day into nothingness, as I should be, if my enemies withdraw their confidence in me. Now I am, at least, a member of the senate; but if the senate is dissolved, and I should subsequently be deposed again from the head of the police, I should be nothing but Fouche--Fouche fallen out of favor. Voila tout!”
”No, not so,” said Bonaparte, with a smile. ”You will always be known as the murderer of the king; that is a fine t.i.tle for a republican, is it not?”
”Ah, general, I see that you understand me,” cried Fouche. ”We are now talking about a name, a position, a t.i.tle for me. Provided that here in the Tuileries a throne is reestablished, we must have a court again, men with orders, t.i.tles, and dignities.”