"At present he could; for his right to do so has never yet been called in question. But I greatly doubt if he will be allowed to retain that power without certain restrictions. It is one of the many problems involved in the Constitution that the Committee has so far not had time to consider."
Through the window Roger saw a richly gilt coach drive up, and he said quickly: "About Monsieur de Mirabeau. From his speeches in the Assembly I have never yet been able to decide to which party he belongs. A word of guidance on that would at the moment be most helpful."
"He belongs to no party," de Perigord smiled. "Whatever he may be in other things he is at least honest in his politics. Being a very clearsighted man he is quick to see the weakness in the policies of others, so he will tie himself to none. Only so can he retain his liberty to criticize every measure that he feels to be unsound. Like myself, although he frequently supports the Left, he is a convinced Monarchist; and in the Assembly there are many men of a similar disposition. It is that great floating vote that makes Mirabeau such a power in debate. Upon whatever subject he may speak his common sense attaches to him all those who are not committed to a course of action in advance; and men of the most diverse opinions will rub shoulders in order to follow him into the lobby."
"Think you, in view of the reduction of the Monarch to near a cypher, that he is likely to emerge as virtually the new ruler of France ?"
The Bishop sadly shook his head. "I fear that things have now gone too far for anyone of such moderate views to long remain master of the situation. Do not be deceived by the present comparative quiet of Paris. Terrible forces have now been set in motion, and no man can gauge the destructive power with which they may yet sweep not only France but the whole world. This year, for the first time in history, the proletariat has become conscious of its power. The fall of the French monarchy is a threat to all others, and a new kind of war may result. Instead of Kings fighting Kings there may be a bloody clash of ideologies in which class will fight class, throughout the length and breadth of Europe.
In such a war no true democracy could survive, and the proletarian leaders will inevitably be men of utter ruthlessness; dictators, driving their peoples on with a tyranny and ferocity greater than they have ever suffered under any King. It is my belief that this year of '89 will be termed by historians that of the rising storm."
CHAPTER TWENTY
THE QUEEN'S FRIENDS
As de Talleyrand-Perigord ceased speaking the most talked-of man in France at that period was shown into the room.
The Comte de Mirabeau was then forty, but years of overwork, anxiety and dissipation had made him look considerably older. He was a giant of a man; tall, broad-shouldered, deep-chested; though his huge hands, wide forehead, and the great mane of coarse black hair that swept back from it made him appear even larger than he was in fact. The scars left by the smallpox, which he had contracted at the age of three, made him quite incredibly ugly; but he radiated vitality and good humour.
Most of his adult life had been spent—owing in part at least to his own folly and extravagance—in abject poverty; but now that France had a free Press, and he was the man of the hour, his pamphlets and journals were bringing him in a huge income. In consequence, he was at last able to give free rein to his flamboyant tastes. At a time when most of the noblemen who had remained in Paris were going about the capital as unostentatiously as possible in hired hackneys, Mirabeau, for the first time in his life, had a coach of his own—and it was a vast gilded affair with the arms of his family emblazoned on its panels. His dress, too, was now always of an almost Eastern splendour—-although the rich fabrics sat ill on his unwieldy person—and from his hands and the lace at his neck there flashed diamonds, sapphires and rubies.
The half-dozen or so very able secretaries whom he employed no doubt paid for their keep; as, after touching up their work with a few strokes of genius, he published all their writings under his own name. But the establishment he ran, the money he gave away and his personal adornment, ate up such sums that it was hardly to be wondered at that, however big the income he made, he was still always hopelessly in debt.
De Perigord had no need to introduce his two guests; and immediately Mirabeau set eyes on Roger he said jovially: "When last we met here, Monsieur Breuc, I recall that it was between two of my visits to Berlin. I was very grateful then for the chance our friend the Bishop secured me to earn a few hundred livres acting as his correspondent from Frederick the Great's deathbed."
"And I was grateful to be invited here to drink His Grace's chocolate," replied Roger, not to be outdone, "for I had few friends in Paris in those days; and 'twas a great privilege for a youth like myself to meet men like you, Monsieur le Comte, who have since made history."
The Bishop's man-servant had been waiting only for de Mirabeau's arrival to announce dinner; and while they went into the next room, settled themselves at table and tucked their napkins under their chins, Roger thought his fellow guest deserved full credit for his frank, unabashed mention of his visits to Berlin.
Everyone now knew the story, as de Mirabeau had recently published the reports he had sent back to France of his activities and observations while in the Prussian capital. Their publication had created a furore, since the documents were not his to publish but belonged to the French Government, as he had written them while a secret agent in its employ. He had endeavoured to exculpate himself by declaring, first that the papers had been published without his authority, then that they had been stolen from him; but it was universally believed that he had connived at the business in order to make some quick money. It was now, in any case, common knowledge that de Perigord, having recognized de Mirabeau's genius from the beginning, had begged the Government to employ him; and that, failing to get him anything better, he had induced Monsieur de Calonne to send him on this secret mission to Berlin.
The thing Roger knew about the original transaction that de Mirabeau did not—and Roger's knowledge was in all probability shared only by his old master, Monsieur de Rochambeau—was that de Perigord, having been instructed to act as a post-office for de Mirabeau's secret reports, had, being hard up himself at the time, sold copies of them before passing the originals on to Monsieur de Calonne.
Glancing from one side of the table to the other, Roger wondered which of his two companions was the greater rogue; and decided that there was really little to choose between them. Both were honest according to their lights, and both would not hesitate to cheat if their own well-being or that of their country depended upon it. But if a capacity for unscrupulousness was to be judged in proportion to the strength of character of the two men, Roger had no doubt at all that the Bishop would win at a canter. Mirabeau could dominate the Assembly; he could quell a riot and make a murderous mob whose hands were still dripping blood hang upon his words, but with effortless ease de Perigord dominated him. Beside the slender, elegant Bishop, the bearlike Mirabeau was common clay.
Over dinner the talk covered many subjects, and Roger was pleasantly surprised to see his host shine in a new light. He had always found de Perigord a most charming and stimulating companion, but had thought of him as a selfish hedonist whose main aim in life was his own pleasure and advancement; now, he was given a glimpse of the great humanitarian that the "unworthy priest" usually concealed beneath the cynical aristocrat. One after another he spoke of the reforms he wished to have passed by the Assembly, and pressed de Mirabeau for his support.
He wanted the royal lotteries abolished, because they beggared far more people than they enriched; he wanted the Jews emancipated and given equal rights of citizenship; he wanted a Franco-British conference arranged to agree on a uniform system of weights and measures; he wanted pressure to be exerted on the Pope to allow the wives of fishermen to presume the death of husbands who had been reported lost at sea, after three years, so that they might marry again; he wanted to revolutionize and co-ordinate in one national system all the schools and colleges in the country, so that every child in France should receive the benefit of an education.