"I do not deny the necessity but the practices of spying are repugnant to me," Renzi said carefully.
"I really do not see where the immorality lies, Mr Renzi. If, as commanderin-chief at the scene of a battle, I receive intelligence that the enemy will come by a different direction, do I alter my dispositions accordingly or refuse to do so on the grounds that the information was gained by a single person working alone?"
Renzi held his silence, wondering if d'Auvergne was trying to provoke him.
"No, of course I cannot, morally or otherwise. My duty as a commander is to build a picture of the forces opposite me in the best way I can—and if an opportunity arises whereby one of my men might move forward, keep out of sight and note the truth of what these are, then I shall be grateful to him."
As though it were final proof in a mathematical theorem, d'Auvergne concluded, "Therefore no one can be surprised that this is carried forward by all nations as a perfectly valid and utile means of acquiring intelligence."
Pulling himself up, Renzi said cuttingly, "Sir, before now I have had to perform bloody acts that were logically dictated by the situation at the time and I believe I have never shied from the duty. What I find immoral is the deployment of such as an instrument of policy."
"In a way, you disappoint me, Renzi. You have not considered your position in logic, which I find is the only method to be trusted for laying the thickets of sentiment and false moral positions. Take the spy himself, for instance."
Feeling a heat of resentment at having his cherished logic brought into such a discussion Renzi reluctantly followed the reasoning.
"The spy is a brave and resourceful man who goes alone and unarmed into the enemy camp. It has often puzzled me," he said, as an aside, "just why we admire and value those who on our behalf do so, while those of our opponents with the same qualities are, on discovery, vilified and must invariably suffer death. An odd notion, don't you think?"
He thought for a moment then continued his main thread: "Is there, I ask you, any difference au fond between ordering a man to stand before the cannon's rage and another who is required to place himself in greater peril within the enemy's territory?"
"It is not in my power to order a man to do anything, sir," Renzi said, with feeling. "Let alone—"
"So who in your universe will harvest the intelligence, save you from the guile of the enemy, his conspiracies and malice?" d'Auvergne snapped. "You have the freedom, bought by others, to walk away from matters of nicety to your conscience and leave their resolution to others. This is neither logical nor responsible."
"Then do I understand it correctly, sir, that you require me to assume the character of a spy in some affair?" Renzi asked coldly.
D'Auvergne slumped back. "No, no. That was never in my desiring," he said wearily. "Mr Renzi, you have gifts of insight and understanding with formidable intelligence and a rare admiration for the primacy of logic. All this fits you in a remarkable manner for the role of assisting myself—simply lightening the burden, if you will—in the conduct of operations of a clandestine nature against Napoleon."
Renzi felt the chill of foreboding.
"If you are in any doubt as to their importance, let me disclose to you that I communicate not with Sir James but directly to the foreign secretary of Great Britain, as indeed I have done since the Terror of Paris in 'ninety-two. The work is allowed to be of such sovereign value that I am entrusted with the maintenance of a network in France whose extent . . . is large."
He sighed raggedly. "At the moment I have none in whom I can place my trust and I bear the burden alone. It was my hope that in some degree you would feel able to offer me your help—and your country, sir."
"Help?" Renzi muttered.
"To maintain the confidential papers, take up some of the load of secret correspondence, speak with those arriving from France with news—and, on occasion, to favour me with your views in matters compelling a difficult decision."
Everything in Renzi rebelled against involvement in illicit affairs of deceit and trickery, in the lies and betrayal that must be at its heart. His whole life was predicated on the sure foundation of the honour and moral obligation of a gentleman, and he had no desire to immerse himself in such a moral quagmire. "Sir. I fear that it would do violence to my nature," he began, "notwithstanding your logic and—"
"It's too late for that, Renzi. Whether you like it or no, you are even now privy to information of a most secret nature. But more pressing than that you have been made aware that there is a service you may do for your country to which you are most peculiarly well fitted."