'Then after six weeks aboard ship she must be ripe for some masculine entertainment,' Roger smiled.
'Perhaps: unless she seduced the Captain of the ship on the way over, and has formed a passion for him, as such hot-blooded women are apt to do. I wish you luck with her but, should you succeed, I advise you not to become deeply involved, for I am convinced that to set your affections on such a woman could lead only to unhappiness.'
Still pondering this sage counsel, Roger set out for Bordeaux. His coach covered the three hundred and forty miles in six days. On reaching the port he engaged the best suite of rooms in the most comfortable hostelry, pending Madame Leclerc's arrival.
Pauline's ship docked four days later and Roger went aboard at once. Her Captain, a fine handsome man in his early thirties, received him in his stern cabin and together they drank some excellent triple-distilled Rum termed Sugarcane Cognac. Over this warming tipple the Captain gave him an account of the way in which things had gone wrong in San Domingo.
That a great number of the troops had fallen victim to yellow fever was only half the story. The real cause of the disaster had been Napoleon's decree that the estates of the French planters should be restored to them and the Negroes be reduced once more to a state of slavery. Leclerc, realizing the danger of promulgating such a decree, had refrained from doing so, but General Richpanse, the Governor of Guadeloupe had, and the news had spread like wildfire to the other islands. With Toussaint a prisoner and Christophe defeated the great majority of the Negroes had been quite willing to accept the Government of France and to regard themselves as French citizens; but when they learned that they were again to become slaves, the whole black population of the island rose in revolt.
Had a state of peace been maintained many of the troops stricken with the fever might have been nursed back to health. As it was, French detachments up-country, already weakened by the ravages of the disease, had been cither massacred or driven into the forts along the coast. Cap Haitien had been beseiged by a rabble of Negroes many thousands strong led by their witch doctors and screaming for French blood. The situation had become so threatening that Leclerc had feared he would have to evacuate the island and had sent a company of troops to escort Pauline and her ladies down to the beach.
Despite her frivolous nature, she had played her part as a Governor's wife in a way that did her the greatest credit. During the early months of the occupation she had enormously enjoyed being the First Lady of the land, designed a special costume for her staff and an orchestra, received all the notables most graciously and given a constant succession of concerts, dances and expeditions to beauty spots.
Then, as the Spring advanced, a number of unknown infections had broken out. She had been inflicted with sores on her hands and arms and several of her household had gone down with yellow fever, which was already spreading as a serious epidemic among the troops. But Pauline had refused to be intimidated and go into isolation with her little son and immediate entourage. Instead she had insisted on continuing to hold her receptions and concerts to maintain morale, and could not be prevented from visiting the stricken soldiers in the hospitals.
When the crisis came and Leclerc had determined on a last sortie against the great horde of Negroes, he had sent a party of Grenadiers to bring Pauline and her household down to the beach but she had refused to accompany them, proudly declaring to the other women, 'You may go if you wish, but I shall not. I am the sister of Bonaparte.'
Ignoring her defiance, four soldiers had picked her up, put her in a chair and carried her off toward the waiting ships. But she had never gone aboard. News had arrived that Leclerc's sortie had succeeded, the blacks had broken and temporarily fled; so she had had herself carried back to the Residence, yawned gracefully and said, 'How I despise these stupid panics.'
By then Lcclerc had already been infected by the pestilence. Although desperately ill he continued to conduct the defence in person, but the fever proved too much for him and he had had to take to his bed. Regardless of the danger of catching the fell disease, Pauline had nursed him devotedly but in vain. On November 8th, weakened by his exertions, he died.
Her grief for 'her little Leclerc', as she always called him, had been terrible to witness. Adhering to the cold Corsican custom, she had cut off her beautiful golden hair and laid it at her husband's feet in his coffin. She had then draped herself in funeral black and refused all consolation.
When Roger enquired how she had supported the voyage, the Captain replied, 'I have hardly seen her. Except for rare occasions she has kept to her cabin. Her maid, Mademoiselle Aimee, has taken her such little food as she could be persuaded to eat, and reports that for whole days she has sat as though in a stupor. Her health, too, has never been good and the summer heats in San Domingo thinned her blood and sallowed her wonderful complexion. No doubt these weeks at sea will have restored her beauty; but, seeing the mental state she is in, it has been a relief to me that as her host while aboard my ship I have not had to attempt to entertain her. And I do not envy you, mon Colonel, in having to be her companion in a coach for a week while escorting her back to Paris.'
Quietly and efficiently Roger then made his wishes known. Leclerc's coffin was to be taken ashore without his widow's knowledge, so that she should be spared the sight of it, and sent independently to Paris in the splendid catafalque, drawn by six white horses with black trappings, that he had had prepared while waiting for her in Bordeaux. Her child, whom she had sent for only twice on the voyage, and his nurse, were also to be taken ashore in advance, and would travel in a separate coach. He would escort Madame Leclerc that evening to the hostelry where he had engaged lodgings for her.
These arrangements were duly carried out. At five o'clock he went with the Captain to the small state-room that Pauline occupied in the day-time. Gravely he conveyed to her the compliments of the First Consul and his deep sympathy, then said that he had been charged with the honour of escorting her wherever she wished to go.
She showed no sign of recognizing him and acknowledged what he had said only with an inclination of her head, which was so heavily draped in black veils that he could hardly discern her features. After murmuring a few words of thanks to the Captain she took Roger's proffered arm and allowed him to lead her to the coach that stood waiting on the dock. In complete silence they covered the half-mile journey to the inn. There, Roger escorted her and her maid up to their rooms, then left them.
Downstairs he ordered a bottle of Chateau Filhot and, while drinking it, considered the situation. Pauline was clearly in a far worse state than he had expected. Mercurial by temperament, she could be the gayest of the gay; but, as she was now, a prey to heartbreaking grief, it would prove difficult to rouse her from it. However, she was barely twenty-two and had a nature that demanded love and laughter; so it could be only a question of time before she emerged from her black depression. How long that would be was the imponderable that he had to endeavour to assess.
Her dead-black garments had not concealed her superb figure and her sombre veils had not so entirely hidden her lovely face that he could not recall it in all its beauty. In the past she had always accorded him something a little more than just friendly interest, regarding him with the eyes of an experienced woman who was weighing up what sort of lover he might make. Should he now dare to count on that to re-arouse her passions? If he did, and failed, she would report his unseemly conduct to her brother, and that could be the end of any prospect of his continuing in the great man's service. That was the devil of a risk to take. But it was now or never; and Roger knew that if he did not take it, he would regret to the end of his life having forgone this chance to make the most beautiful woman in France his mistress.