'No, no!' Talleyrand took a pinch of snuff. 'Napoleon sent for me last night, and himself told me his intentions.'
'Indeed!' Roger raised an eyebrow. 'But when on my travels, I heard it said that you were no longer Foreign Minister.'
'True, dear friend; quite true. After Tilsit I decided to resign. I had become weary of giving advice that was not accepted, and drawing up treaties of which I strongly disapproved —treaties which, in my view, must ultimately lead to the ruin of France. Napoleon was much annoyed, but could scarce ignore the many services I have rendered. As you must be aware, there were a very limited number of High Dignitaries created when our little man crowned himself Emperor. Joseph was made Grand Elector, and Louis High Constable. On my retirement, I was made Vice-Grand Elector, with equal status to the others, and an additional half-million francs a year revenue; so I did not do too badly. Our old enemy, Fouche, put about a rather delightful mot concerning my elevation. He said, "It is the only Vice that Talleyrand had not got".'
Roger roared with laughter. Then he said, 'Although you no longer hold the Foreign Office portfolio, apparently Napoleon continues to consult you.'
'Yes. He gave the portfolio to Caulaincourt, a pleasant and quite able man. Yet, hate me though Napoleon now does, it seems that I have a strange fascination for him. He takes no step of importance without informing me of it, and asking my opinion, even though he frequently rejects it.'
*You will, then, be attending this forthcoming conference?'
'Almost certainly.' After a moment Talleyrand gave a cynical smile and added, 'There I may find an opportunity to send Alexander away more dissatisfied than ever at having entered into an alliance with us. As long as Napoleon can count on Russia to menace Austria, his position remains comparatively strong; but, should the Czar break with him, that could bring about his fall. And you and I agreed at Warsaw that that has become necessary as the only means of restoring peace and prosperity to Europe.'
Roger nodded. 'Somehow it must be done. But I have not yet congratulated your Exalted Highness on having been made Vice-Grand Elector. I do so on two counts. Firstly, in that this honour places you on an equal footing with the Bonaparte Princes. Secondly, on having resigned your office when you did. Now, when the Empire does collapse, and others scuttle from the sinking ship, no-one will be able to accuse you of having waited to leave it with the rats.'
Early in September still worse news came in from the Peninsula, which was now the focus of all eyes. Wellesley had driven the French vanguard from Rolica; then, on the 24th August, he had met Junot's main force at Vimiero and inflicted a crushing defeat upon it. Junot's whole army would have been cut off from Torres Vedras, but for the fact that an officer senior to Wellesley, General Sir Harry Burrard, arrived just at that moment, took over command and, most idiotically, called off the pursuit.
Shortly afterwards the hopeless idiocy of Britain's old-fashioned senior Generals was further manifested. Burrard was superseded by Sir Hew Dalrymple. Instead of demanding the surrender of Junot's defeated army, he entered into a pact with Junot at Cintra. By it Junot and all his troops were to be sent back to France in British ships.
Napoleon, angry as he was at Junot's defeat, got back many thousands of troops who would otherwise have remained prisoners in Portugal. With a sour laugh he declared, 'How fortunate I am in having British generals fighting my wars for me.'
The unfortunate Dupont and his principal commanders had also been released by the Spaniards and returned to France. Upon them, for their surrender at Baylen, the Emperor vented his wrath, consigning all of them to prison.
Meanwhile, it had been agreed that Alexander and Napoleon should meet at Erfurt, a town in Thuringia some sixty-five miles south-west of Leipzig.
By mid-September, when the Court was about to set out, Lisala was expecting her baby in from six to eight weeks. For some time past, Roger had been treating her with the utmost tenderness; and waiting anxiously for her delivery, hoping that she would bear him a son. As Erfurt meant a journey of three hundred and sixty miles, he was most averse to her undertaking it. But she had been greatly enjoying herself in Paris, and was most loath both to being left alone while the Court was in Germany, and missing the many splendid entertainments which would take place at the conference. It was unlikely that the conference would last more than a fortnight; so she argued that they should be back in Paris at the latest within five weeks. In consequence, Roger reluctantly agreed to her setting out with the Empress and the Court officials who were to make the journey in moderately easy stages.
Several days later, Napoleon, who always travelled at great speed, followed, accompanied by his staff. To salvoes of cannon they entered Erfurt on September 26th. The Empress had arrived there that morning. From the Quartermaster, who had taken over the Town Hall, Roger learned that he and Lisala had been billeted not far from the centre of the town, at the house of a notary named Gunther. Eager to see Lisala, he went there at once.
No sooner had he made himself known to the notary's wife than she exclaimed, 'Colonel, we are in a great taking here. The long journey had most unfortunate results on your lady. When she arrived this morning, she was already in labour. I understand that her accouchement was not due for some weeks yet. But an hour ago she gave premature birth to your child.'
'My wife?' he asked swiftly. 'Is she all right?'
Tes, yes I' the woman assured him. 'We called our doctor. A good man. Her delivery was quite normal.'
Brushing past her, Roger ran up the stairs three at a time. Behind a slightly-opened door on the landing he heard a faint mewling. Thrusting the door wide open, he strode into the room.
Lisala's nurse, old Josefa Bilboa, was sitting there in an easy chair, gently rocking a bundle on her lap. As she saw Roger, her dark eyes widened with fear.
'Is it a boy?' Roger asked eagerly.
The old woman nodded. 'Yes, Senhor, but. . .'
Advancing on her, Roger smiled and said, 'Let me see him. Let me see my son.'
Josefa shrank back, pressing the bundle to her flaccid bosom as she whispered, 'Senhor, be merciful. This . . . this will be a shock to you.'
Roger frowned. 'Do you mean that the child is malformed?'
'No, Senhor, no! But... but...'
Stretching out a hand, Roger pulled the swaddling clothes aside and gazed, horror-struck, at the infant.
It had curly red hair; its nose was flattened and its lips were thick; its skin was brown; beyond all doubt, it was the child of a Negro.
Surprise at Erfurt
Utterly aghast, Roger stared down at the small, dark, wizened creature. Never before in his life had his mind been so paralysed by shock. Momentarily his numbed brain suggested to him that he was the victim of a nightmare. He was brought back to awful reality by the sound of footsteps behind him. Swinging round, he saw that Frau Gunther had followed him into the room.
Wildly he sought some explanation that he could give of this scandalous event, which could not be concealed and must soon become the talk of the town, bringing disgrace upon Lisala and making him the laughing stock of everyone he knew. His normally swift reaction to unexpected situations suddenly returned to him. White-faced, he confronted the woman and said:
'Meine Frau, I beg your indulgence in that my wife's delivery should have occurred in your house, causing you much inconvenience. Aware of the terrible experience that befell her before she left Brazil, I had intended to take her to some secluded house, where she could have her unwanted child. But her giving birth prematurely has defeated my intentions. While in Rio de Janeiro, my wife was raped by a Negro slave.'