The Bronze Eagle Part 11

I

But even as Madame la d.u.c.h.esse douairiere d'Agen placed her aristocratic hand upon the handle of the door, it was opened from without with what might almost be called undue haste, and Hector appeared in the doorway.

Hector in truth! but not the sober-faced, pompous, dignified Hector of the household of M. le Comte de Cambray, but a red-visaged, excited, fussy Hector, who for the moment seemed to have forgotten where he was, as well as the etiquette which surrounded the august personality of his master. He certainly contrived to murmur a humble if somewhat hasty apology, when he found himself confronted at the door by Mme. la d.u.c.h.esse herself, but he did not stand aside to let her pa.s.s.

She had stepped back into the room at sight of him, for obviously something very much amiss must have occurred thus to ruffle Hector's ingrained dignity, and even M. le Comte was involuntarily dragged out of his aristocratic aloofness and almost--though not quite--jumped up from his chair.

"What is it, Hector?" he exclaimed, peremptorily.

"M. le Comte," gasped Hector, who seemed to be out of breath from sheer excitement, "the Corsican . . . he has come back . . . he is marching on Gren.o.ble . . . M. le prefet is here! . . ."

But already M. le Comte had--with a wave of the hand as it were--swept the unwelcome news aside.

"What rubbish is this?" he said wrathfully. "You have been dreaming in broad daylight, Hector . . . and this excitement is most unseemly. Show Mme. la d.u.c.h.esse to her apartments," he added with a great show of calm.

Hector--thus reproved, coloured a yet more violent crimson to the very roots of his hair. He made a great effort to recover his pomposity and actually took up the correct att.i.tude which a well-trained servant a.s.sumes when he shows a great lady out of a room. But even then--despite the well-merited reproof--he took it upon himself to insist:

"M. le prefet is here, M. le Comte," he said, "and begs to be received at once."

"Well, then, you may show him up when Mme. la d.u.c.h.esse has retired,"

said the Comte with quiet dignity.

"By your leave, my brother," quoth the d.u.c.h.esse decisively, "I'll wait and hear what M. le prefet has to say. The news--if news there be--is too interesting to be kept waiting for me."

And accustomed as she was to get her own way in everything, Mme. la d.u.c.h.esse calmly sailed back into the room, and once more sat down in the chair beside her brother's bureau, whilst Hector with as much grandeur of mien as he could a.s.sume under the circ.u.mstances was still waiting for orders.

M. le Comte would undoubtedly have preferred that his sister should leave the room before the prefet was shown in: he did not approve of women taking part in political conversations, and his manner now plainly showed to Mme. la d.u.c.h.esse that he would like to receive M. le prefet alone. But he said nothing--probably because he knew that words would be useless if Madame had made up her mind to remain, which she evidently had, so, after a brief pause, he said curtly to Hector:

"Show M. le prefet in."

He took up his favourite position, in his throne-shaped chair--one leg bent, the other stretched out, displaying to advantage the shapely calf and well-shod foot. M. le prefet Fourier, mathematician of great renown, and member of the Inst.i.tut was one of those converted Bonapartists to whom it behoved at all times to teach a lesson of decorum and dignity.

And certainly when, presently Hector showed M. Fourier in, the two men--the aristocrat of the old regime and the bureaucrat of the new--presented a marked and curious contrast. M. le Comte de Cambray calm, unperturbed, slightly supercilious, in a studied att.i.tude and moving with pompous deliberation to greet his guest, and Jacques Fourier, man of science and prefet of the Isere department, short of stature, scant of breath, flurried and florid!

Both men were conscious of the contrast, and M. Fourier did his very best to approach Mme. la d.u.c.h.esse with a semblance of dignity, and to kiss her hand in something of the approved courtly manner. When he had finally sat down, and mopped his streaming forehead, M. le Comte said with kindly condescension:

"You are perturbed, my good M. Fourier!"

"Alas, M. le Comte," replied the worthy prefet, still somewhat out of breath, "how can I help being agitated . . . this awful news! . . ."

"What news?" queried the Comte with a lifting of the brows, which was meant to convey complete detachment and indifference to the subject matter.

"What news?" exclaimed the prefet who, on the other hand, was unable to contain his agitation and had obviously given up the attempt, "haven't you heard? . . ."

"No," replied the Comte.

And Madame also shook her head.

"Town-gossip does not travel as far as the Castle of Brestalou," added M. le Comte gravely.

"Town gossip!" reiterated M. Fourier, who seemed to be calling Heaven to witness this extraordinary levity, "town gossip, M. le Comte! . . .

But G.o.d in Heaven help us all. Bonaparte landed at Antibes five days ago. He was at Sisteron this morning, and unless the earth opens and swallows him up, he will be on us by Tuesday!"

"Bah! you have had a nightmare, M. le prefet," rejoined the Comte drily.

"We have had news of the landing of Bonaparte at least once a month this half-year past."

"But it is authentic news this time, M. le Comte," retorted Fourier, who, gradually, under the influence of de Cambray's calm demeanour, had succeeded in keeping his agitation in check. "The prefet of the Var department, M. le Comte de Bouthillier, sent an express courier on Thursday last to the prefet of the Ba.s.ses-Alpes, who sent that courier straight on to me, telling me that he and General Loverdo, who is in command of the troops in that district, promptly evacuated Digue because they were not certain of the loyalty of the garrison. The Corsican it seems only landed with about a thousand of his old guard, but since then, the troops in every district which he has traversed, have deserted in a body, and rallied round his standard. It has been, so I hear, a triumphal march for him from the Littoral to Digne, and altogether the news which the courier brought me this morning was of such alarming nature, that I thought it my duty, M. le Comte, to apprise you of it immediately."

"That," said M. le Comte condescendingly, "was exceedingly thoughtful and considerate, my good M. Fourier. And what is the alarming news?"

"Firstly, that Bonaparte made something like a state entry into Digne yesterday. The city was beflagged and decorated. The national guard turned out and presented arms, drums were beating, the population acclaimed him with cries of 'Vive l'Empereur!' The prefet and the general in command had intended to resist his entry into the city, but all the notabilities of the town forced them into submission. Duval, the prefet, fled to a neighbouring village, taking the public funds with him, while General Loverdo with a mere handful of loyal troops has retreated on Sisteron."

Though M. le Comte de Cambray had listened to the prefet's narrative with all his habitual grandeur of mien, it soon became obvious that some of his aristocratic sangfroid had already abandoned him. His furrowed cheeks had become a shade paler than usual, and the slender hand which toyed with an ivory paper-knife on his desk had not its wonted steadiness. Mme. la d.u.c.h.esse perceived this, no doubt, for her keen eyes were fixed scrutinisingly upon her brother; she saw too that his thin lips were quivering and that the reason why he made no comment on what he had just heard was because he could not quite trust himself to speak.

It was she, therefore, who now remarked quietly:

"And in your department, M. le prefet, in Gren.o.ble itself, is the garrison equally likely to go over to the Corsican brigand?"

M. Fourier shrugged his shoulders. He was not at all sure.

"After what has happened at Digne, Mme. la d.u.c.h.esse," he said, "I would not care to prophesy. General Marchand does not intend to trust entirely to the garrison. He has sent to Vienne and to Chambery for reinforcements . . . but . . ."

The prefet was hesitating, evidently he had not a great deal of faith in the loyalty of those reinforcements either.

M. le Comte made a vigorous protest. "Surely, M. Fourier," he said, "you don't mean to suggest that Gren.o.ble is going to turn traitor to the King?"

But M. le prefet apparently had meant to suggest it.

"Alas, M. le Comte!" he said, "we must always bear in mind that the whole of the Dauphine has remained throughout a bed of Bonapartism."

"But in that case . . ." e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the Comte.

"General Marchand is doing all he can to ensure effectual resistance, M.

le Comte. But we are in the hands of the army, and the army has never been truly loyal to the King. At the bottom of every soldier's haversack there is an old and worn tricolour c.o.c.kade, which is there ready to be fetched out at a moment's notice, and will be fetched out at the mere sound of the Corsican's voice. We are in the hands of the army, M. le Comte, and in the Dauphine; alas! the army is only too ready to cry: 'Vive l'Empereur!'"

There was silence in the stately room now, silence only broken by the tap-tap of the ivory paper-knife with which M. le Comte was still nervously fidgeting. M. Fourier was wiping the perspiration from his overheated brow.

"For G.o.d's sake, Andre, stop that irritating noise," said Mme. d.u.c.h.esse after awhile, "that tapping has got on my nerves."

"I beg your pardon, Sophie," said the Comte loftily.

He was offended with her for drawing M. Fourier's attention to his own nervous restlessness, yet grateful to be thus forcibly made aware of it himself. His att.i.tude was on the verge of incorrectness. Where was the aristocratic sangfroid which should have made him proof even against so much perturbing news? What had become of the lesson in decorum which should have been taught to this vulgar little bureaucrat?

M. le Comte pulled himself together with a jerk: he straightened out his spare figure, put on that air of detachment which became him so well, and finally turned once more to the prefet a perfectly calm and unruffled countenance.

Then he said with his accustomed urbanity:

"And now, my good M. Fourier, since you have so admirably put the situation before me, will you also tell me in what way I may be of service to you in this--or to General Marchand?"

"I am coming to that, M. le Comte," replied the prefet. "It will explain the reason of my disturbing you at this hour, when I was coming anyhow to partake of your gracious hospitality later on. But I do want your a.s.sistance, M. le Comte, as the matter of which I wish to speak with you concerns the King himself."