The Privateer's Revenge(61)

Renzi stared at him, taken aback to hear his real name. He had been Nicholas Renzi ever since he had gone to sea those many years ago.

"A prudent precaution, in my position, you will agree. So you see, sir, I now know of your high-minded self-exile, your distinguished actions at St Vincent and Acre; I learned of the quality of your late studies from Count Rumford himself. Therefore I feel able to treat you as my equal in matters touching the safety of the realm.

"You may have heard of my not insignificant successes in instigating unrest and rebellion among the Normans. This has been due largely to my network of agents in France, who smuggle out information and carry out acts of bravery as needs must. That was in the Revolutionary War. Since the start of this war, Bonaparte has moved with ruthless speed. The secret police are everywhere. One even needs a passport to travel to another city.

"This has achieved its object. Nearly all organised opposition to the tyrant is now broken, scattered. There are agents and sympathisers, but they are in daily fear of their lives. The gates of Fortress France are fast closing, and with them any chance to prevent the cataclysm of total war."

It seemed so abstract, discussing such a world in an ancient castle with the winds moaning about, but Renzi felt a sense of inevitability as to what would come next. "Sir, you're speaking of an attempt on Bonaparte's life!"

"No." D'Auvergne gave a rueful smile. "Not his life. His Majesty will not have it. He is to be kidnapped."

"Kidnapped!"

"Yes, Renzi, seized and held. It is a previous plan by others feeling as we do and ready to lay down their lives in the attempt."

"Does this have the support of London?"

"At the most secret level conceivable, but with the King's proviso that Bonaparte shall be brought out of France alive to answer for his crimes."

"Sir, may I ask if we are to be involved?"

"We are central to it! Allow me to lay before you the essence of the plot. It is to waylay his coach as he retires outside Paris with his mistress, as he is wont to do. He is to be spirited instantly through Yvelines and Calvados to the coast—and thence by sea to Jersey."

"Here?"

"Indeed. When I receive word that the plot is to proceed, I shall have an allowance from the foreign secretary to be employed in preparing here at Mont Orgueil an apartment for the reception of Napoleon Bonaparte."

Renzi felt unreality closing in. "Um, sir, is the plot well advanced?"

"Certainly. There are some hundreds of brave souls already in Paris, each with his part to play and practised since the summer. You will, no doubt, recognise the name of General Charles Pichegru?"

"Pichegru!" He had risen rapidly to the top of the Revolutionary Army, invaded and subjugated Holland, then subsequently crossed the Rhine with his victorious troops.

"Yes. The only general in history to capture an entire fleet of ships-of-the-line!" It was the stuff of legend: the Dutch battle-squadron had been ice-bound and Pichegru had led a cavalry charge across the frozen sea to seize them all.

D'Auvergne continued, "He will raise the soldiery, who love him, to take all Paris and declare for the King. In the vacuum that exists at the disappearance of Napoleon, the Duc d'Enghien will be made head of state and regent until King Louis might return to claim his throne."

"But—but the organisation, the timing?"

"I have told you the essence only. There is much more. If you knew Georges Cadoudal, and that for five months he has been in Paris preparing, you would rest your concerns."

"Cadoudal?"

"A man larger than life itself—a Hercules of sublime courage and audacity, and one with an undying reputation in the Chouan risings. I myself have seen Georges hold fast a kicking donkey by its back leg—they sing ballads about him in Brittany."

Renzi found himself utterly at a loss for words.

"There are others too numerous to mention. Chouans who have made the perilous journey from the Vendée to Paris to lie in hiding awaiting the call, those who pass among the people risking everything to bring word of the coup to come. There are even troops of dragoons training in secret in the forests outside the capital."

"Then—when shall it . . . ?"

"It is essential that the rising is supported at a scale where it may succeed. To this end we must await a final commitment from London. In my communications I have stressed the urgency and fading opportunity. We shall hear shortly, I believe."



The evening was turning chilly and Kydd was thankful to get inside the theatre. It was now abuzz with excitement and anxious stagehands hurried to mysterious places past the giant curtain.