Part 65 (1/2)
”Who told you so?”
”Sire, we could distinctly hear your majesty's voice in the antechamber; and, when the prince opened the door, the rest, like myself, saw your threatening att.i.tude. In an hour all Paris will know it.”
”Well?”
”Sire, the Prince de Benevento is not the man to forgot an insult, and it will mortify him doubly that the world will hear of it.”
”Let it mortify him!” cried Napoleon. ”All of you have insinuated to me that Talleyrand is a traitor, deserving punishment. I have chastised him; that is all.”
”Sire, the chastis.e.m.e.nt was either too severe, or not severe enough,” said Savary, gravely. ”Had it been too severe, the generous heart of your majesty would think of offering him some satisfaction; but I know Talleyrand, and am firmly convinced of the truth of my statement--I p.r.o.nounce him a plotter of dangerous intrigues. Your majesty therefore cannot chastise him too severely; and, having gone so far, you must now go still farther.”
”How so? What do you mean?”
”Sire, I mean that your majesty, instead of allowing the Prince de Benevento to return home, ought to send him to Vincennes, and recommend him to the special care of your friend General Daumesnil.”
”Ah, I ought to have him arrested!” cried Napoleon, shrugging his shoulders. ”I ought to make a martyr out of a traitor!”
”No, sire, punish a traitor, neither more nor less! I know that Talleyrand is one. He is in secret communication with the legitimists, corresponding with the Bourbons, through other hands; at his house, meetings of malcontents and secret royalists are held every day; there the fires are kindled that will soon burst into devouring energy, unless your majesty extinguish them in time. You have disdained to regain Talleyrand by promises or honors. You have insulted him, and he will revenge himself, if the power of doing so be left him. Sire, I venture to remind your majesty of Machiavel, 'One ought never to make half an enemy.'”
”It is true,” murmured Napoleon to himself, thoughtfully, ”nothing is more dangerous than such half enmities. Under the mask of friends.h.i.+p they betray us the more surely.”
”Hence, sire, pray tear this mask from Talleyrand's treacherous face. Meet him as an open enemy. Then either his enmity will be destroyed by terror, or he will betray his intentions.”
”I lack proof to convict him,” said Napoleon, in a hesitating and wavering tone.
”Well, yes,” exclaimed Savary, ”you have no proof, but there cannot be the least doubt as to the intrigues which he is bold enough to plot. The opportunity is too favorable that he should not endeavor to embrace it. Sire, I should like to urge the example of the great police-minister of Louis XV. Whenever M. de Sartines was on the eve of a festival, or any great public ceremony, he sent for all suspicious persons to whom his attention was particularly directed, and said to them, 'I have no charge against you at present, but to- morrow it may be different. Habit you know has power over you, and you are unlikely to resist temptation. It would be inc.u.mbent upon me to treat you with extreme rigor. For your sake, as well as mine, be kind enough therefore to repair for a few days to a prison, the choice of which I leave to yourselves.' The suspected persons willingly complied with his request, and no arrests were made.”
”You may be right; M. de Sartines was undoubtedly a sagacious police-minister,” said the emperor, musingly. ”His precaution is good for those who are afraid; but I am not! If I conquer my enemies, I thereby trample in the dust this vile serpent, too, that would sting me, and then would crawl as a worm at my feet. If I yield to my enemies, let the structure which I have built fall upon me. It will not matter then whether Talleyrand's hand, too, broke off a piece of the wall or not; it would have fallen without him.
Not another word about it, Savary! My carriage--I will ride to my mother!”
On the evening of the same day, the Prince de Benevento left his palace, entered a hackney-coach, and was driven to one of the remote streets of the Faubourg St. Germain. He stopped in front of a small, mean-looking house; and, when the coach had gone, the prince knocked three times in a peculiar manner at the street door. It opened, and he cautiously entered. No one was to be seen in the lighted hall; but Talleyrand seemed perfectly familiar with the locality; and crossing, without hesitation, a long pa.s.sage, he ascended the thickly-carpeted staircase. Here was another locked door, beside which was a bell, which the prince rang three times. The door was opened, and he walked through a long corridor. The pa.s.sage widened, and the prince was now in a brilliant hall, decorated with paintings and gildings. The entrance through the small house was plainly but a circuitous road to one of the palaces of the Faubourg St. Germain where the royalists were plotting mischief. At the end of this hall was a portiere, in front of which was a richly-liveried footman.
Talleyrand whispered a few words; the servant bowed and opened the door. The prince now entered a saloon, furnished in the most magnificent and tasteful style, where another liveried attendant was waiting. ”The Countess du Cayla?” asked the Prince de Benevento.
”She is in her cabinet. Shall I announce your highness?”
”It is unnecessary.”
He quickly approached and knocked softly at the door of the cabinet.
A sweet voice bade him come in. Before him stood a young lady who welcomed him with a charming smile, but with an air of ill-concealed amazement. ”Oh, the Prince de Benevento!” she exclaimed, merrily.
”You come to me to-day; but yesterday, when I went to you to bring you greetings from our august master, King Louis XVIII., you feigned not to understand whom I wished to speak of, and imposed silence.”
”To-day I come to make amends for what I did yesterday, countess,”
said Talleyrand, with his graceful kindness. ”Be good enough to inform his majesty King Louis XVIII. that he may henceforth count upon my services and my zealous devotedness. I shall a.s.sist him in opening the road to Paris, and do all I can that his majesty may soon be able to make his entrance into the capital of his kingdom.”
”Then you have forsaken Napoleon openly and unreservedly!” exclaimed the Countess du Cayla, the zealous agent of the Count de Lille, whom at that time none but the royalists secretly called King Louis XVIII. ”You are, then, one of us, now and forever?”
”Yes, I consider myself a member of your party,” said Talleyrand, ”and at heart I was always one of the most faithful and zealous servants of the king. I can prove it, for it was I who led Napoleon, step by step, frequently even in spite of his reluctance, to the brink of ruin, on which he is standing now, and I am ready to give him a last thrust to plunge him into the abyss. The emperor has been guilty of great folly to-day. He ought to have had me arrested, but he failed to do so. For this mistake I shall punish him by profiting by my liberty in the service of his majesty the king. Let us consider, therefore, countess, what we ought to do for the speedy return of King Louis XVIII. to Paris.”