Marianne and The Masked Prince

This time Marianne was unable to help herself. She dissolved in helpless laughter and was conscious of a feeling of strangeness as she did so. It was the first time she had laughed in three weeks.

'You should not fly into such a passion. If he has been shut up with you for a fortnight, he must need rest and sleep more than anything. And after all, he was still a sick man. Let him go back to his Italian. If they are living together she must be in some sort his wife and yours is really the better part. You can abandon him to the delights of his fireside.'

'Fireside? Him? It is clear you do not know him. Do you know what he asked me as he left?'

Marianne shook her head. It was best that Fortunée should continue in ignorance of her encounter with Fournier.

'He asked for your address,' Fortunée said triumphantly.

'Mine? But why?'

'To call on you. He thinks that your "vast influence" with the Emperor will enable you to obtain his reinstatement in the army. In which he is greatly mistaken.'

'Why so?'

'Because Napoleon dislikes him enough already, without adding to his dislike with suspicions about the precise nature of his relations with you.'

That much was obvious, and moreover Marianne had no desire for a further meeting with the ebullient general with his bold eyes and over-ready hands. Considering the manner of their first meeting, it was decidedly impudent of him to have dared to think of asking her help. Besides, she was tired of men who always wanted something, who never gave anything for nothing. Consequently it was with considerable dryness that she said: 'I am sorry to have to say this, Fortunée, but I should on no account do anything for your hussar. In any case, God alone knows when I shall see the Emperor again.'

'Good for you,' Fortunée approved. 'Leave my admirers to their own devices. You have little enough to thank them for, it seems.'

Marianne's eyebrows rose. 'What do you mean?'

'That I am perfectly aware of the despicable way Ouvrard behaved towards you. Well, Jonas has remarkably sharp ears you know, and he is not above listening at keyholes.'

The colour flamed in Marianne's face. 'Oh!' she said. 'You knew? You said something to Ouvrard?'

'Not a word! But it will keep. You need not worry, I shall find a way to take revenge for both of us, and before very much longer. As for you, I would go through fire for you if need be. You have only to say the word. I am yours body and soul! Do you still need money?'

'No, not now. It is all right.'

'The Emperor?'

'The Emperor,' Marianne agreed, suppressing a twinge at this fresh lie. She did not want to tell Fortunée about her meeting with her godfather and what had followed.

She had given her word not to talk about her dreadful situation, about the child that was coming and the marriage to which she had been obliged to consent, and ultimately it was better so. Fortunée would not have understood. Her religious feelings were superficial, not far removed from paganism. She was a Creole, careless and shameless, and she would have flaunted an army of bastards in the world's eyes without a blink if nature had not decreed otherwise. Marianne knew that she would have opposed the cardinal's plans with all her strength and it was not difficult to guess what her advice would be. She would counsel her friend to tell Napoleon of the coming event and let him marry her off to the first man who was fool enough to take her – and then console herself with all the lovers she could get her claws in. But not even to save her honour and her child's would Marianne consent to give her hand to a man motivated by base self-interest. There was nothing base about Jason and she knew her godfather well enough to be sure that any man chosen by him would not marry her for the sake of any such calculations. From every point of view it was better to say nothing to her friend. There would be time enough afterwards – or at least when Jason had come, if he came…

Lost in her own melancholy, Marianne had not noticed the silence that had fallen between them, or the scrutiny to which Fortunée was subjecting her, until her friend said abruptly: 'Something is troubling you, isn't it? Is it your husband?'

'He?' Marianne uttered a short laugh. 'He was arrested but it appears that he escaped three days later.'

'Escaped? Where from?'

'From Vincennes.'

'Vincennes!' Fortunée exclaimed. 'Nonsense! No one escapes from Vincennes. If he got away from there, then he was helped. And it takes the devil of a lot of influence to arrange that. Have you any ideas?'

'N-no.'

'Oh yes you have. And not only that, but you have the same idea as I have. This escape had been kept very quiet and I'll wager the Emperor knows nothing of it, as he probably knew nothing of the original arrest. Now, will you tell me who is powerful enough to arrange the escape of an English spy from Vincennes without anyone knowing and without the newspapers getting wind of it?'

'Well – there are the warders, the governor —'

'Would you be willing to bet that if we went to the prison we would meet nothing but faces shining with innocence and the most complete denials? No one would know what we were talking about. No, to my mind, the matter is clear, but what I do not understand is Fouché's reason for letting slip an enemy.'

'Yes, but you do not know it all.' Swiftly Marianne recounted to her friend the events which had taken place in the waxworks and Black Fish's appalling revelations. Fortunée heard her attentively and when it was over she sighed.

'This is ghastly. I hope for his own sake Fouché is not aware of all this.'

'How could he fail to be aware of it? Do you think Black Fish would have concealed it?'

'It is possible that he has not seen the minister since the arrest. Fouché might be at Compiègne or on his own estates at Ferrières. Certainly he was in no hurry to investigate the arrest – which might have proved embarrassing. Our minister is a cunning fox, but I shall find out if he knows about this Englishman's hunting exploits, I promise you.'

'How will you do that?'

'That is my business. Just as I shall find out why there has been this curious leniency towards an English spy.'

'Arcadius says that Fouché has been negotiating with the English behind the Emperor's back, by means of the bankers Labouchère, Baring – and Ouvrard.'

Madame Hamelin's dark eyes gleamed suddenly.

'Well, well! That might explain a lot of things, my darling. I had noticed some very odd goings-on around the Hôtel de Juigné recently, and in the vicinity of our friend Ouvrard's bank as well. If Jolival is right, and I trust his judgement, there must be a great deal of money in it for those gentlemen – quite apart from the benefit to France, which is no doubt a minor consideration. Well, I am inquisitive by nature and I shall bring this little business out into the open.'

'How will you do that?' Marianne asked, alarmed at the thought of her friend engaging in this dangerous form of warfare.

Fortunée rose and dropped a motherly kiss on Marianne's brow.

'Don't you bother your pretty head with all this complicated stuff. Let me deal with it in my own way. I promise you we will have a good laugh and that neither Ouvrard nor Fouché will get away with it. Now run and get dressed and come out with me.'

'Where to?' Marianne seemed to shrink back in her chair, as though daring her friend to drag her out of it.

'To do a little shopping. It is a beautiful day. And in spite of what I said, you look dreadful. It will do you a world of good to take a little fresh air.'