'You ... you devil!' Napoleon stormed, froth beginning to appear on his lips. 'But there is a remedy for this. I'll have you taken in a closed carriage to Vincennes and thrown into a dungeon. There you may talk as you will; the gaolers will suppose you only to be a madman.'
'And what of the glorious Revolution?' Roger gave a bitter laugh. 'Do I see in you another Louis XV about to sign a lettre de cachet? How unfortunate for you that the mob pulled down the Bastille in '89; so that you cannot follow tradition fully and send me to it.'
'Vincenncs will serve well enough,' gasped Napoleon.
'To hold me prisoner,' Roger sneered, 'but not to ensure your peace of mind. How can you suppose that I did not resent the treatment meted out to me at Bruges on your orders? I spent this morning writing letters to men, several of whom are your worst enemies, telling the truth about myself and Pauline. I have made arrangements that should I not be reinstated on your personal staff within a week, those letters are to be despatched to their destinations, which include the Russian, Prussian and Austrian Ambassadors, and His Holiness the Pope. Now, arrest me if you dare!'
The froth from Napoleon's mouth dribbled down his chin. His eyes bulged, he gulped for air. Suddenly he lurched forward.
He would have measured his length on the floor had not Roger caught him just in time. Lifting his rigid body into a chair, Roger stepped back a pace and stared at him in near panic. He felt sure that his master's intense rage had resulted in an epileptic fit. The clenched teeth, open, turned-up eyes and purple face were all evidence of it. But what to do?
His immediate impulse was to call for help. But that would bring the crowd in the anteroom streaming in, and all France getting to know that the First Consul was an epileptic. On the other hand, to remain there alone with him could have appalling consequences. If, in the next few moments, he died Roger would be held responsible for his death. The quarrel between them was certain to come to light, then public indignation would demand a trial and an execution. But to prevent his weakness from becoming generally known would be a sure way to earn his gratitude. Taking one of the biggest gambles of his life, Roger sloshed some water from a carafe into a glass and threw it in Napoleon's face, then slapped him hard.
After a few moments Napoleon's limbs began to jerk, his features lost their rigidity and he struggled into a sitting position in the chair. Regarding him anxiously, Roger asked, 'Shall I send for your doctor?'
Feebly the stricken man shook his head, 'No, no! You... you did right to restore me yourself. No one must know that I... I occasionally suffer from these fits.'
For a full minute they remained silent, then Napoleon drew a long breath and said, 'Breuc, I have treated you ill. I admit it. For me to give you Pauline was too much to ask. But... but you have proved that you can be a terrible enemy as well as a good friend. That we have been at loggerheads is as much your fault as mine. You should have told me of this secret marriage. I love my sister, so I would go to great lengths to protect her from the results of her folly. For her to be adjudged a bigamist would be a terrible thing. Can I rely on you to keep this secret?'
Roger nodded, 'Yes, mon General. For I love her too. And what is done is done. There'd be no sense in bringing grief to all of us on account of it.'
'Then you may resume your place here as one of my A.D.Cs and, well... I'll think of some way of compensating you for what you went through at Bruges.’
'It has done me no harm and I have learned now what your soldiers suffer when on a campaign; so I need no compensation other than one thing.' 'What is it?'
'That you will not allow your police to interfere between myself and Pauline. We love one another, and we have already arranged a way in which we can assuage our desire to be together without Borghese coming to know of it.'
'Very well then. I gather that in spite of the Prince's fine appearance he is little good to a woman; so it's certain that if it were not you Pauline would soon take some other lover. Since you have proved yourself to be discreet, I'd as lief it was you than some new fancy of hers who might prove boastful and make trouble between her and her husband.'
For the first time during their interview Roger smiled with real pleasure. He had lied like a trooper about his having married Pauline; but their having lived at St. Maximc for a month as man and wife provided a sound basis for his story. He intended to tell Pauline that, should Napoleon question her about her marriage, she was to tell him that she had forgotten the name of the little Commune in which the ceremony was supposed to have taken place; so he thought it most unlikely that his lie would ever be found out.
Napoleon came unsteadily to his feet, extended his hand and said, 'Then let us regard bygones as bygones.'
Roger took it and replied, 'Mon General, I thank you. You know well that at any time I would cheerfully die for you.'
Returning his smile, Napoleon lifted his hand in the familiar gesture as though to pull Roger's ear; then it dropped to his side and he said wearily, 'Yes. I believe you would. Go now. I do not feel equal to receiving anyone else this morning. Tell all those people outside that I have just received a despatch that needs my immediate consideration, and get rid of them.'
As Roger was not in uniform he did not salute. Drawing himself up, he cried, 'Mon General, to hear is to obey.' Then, swinging on his heel, he marched triumphant from the room.
That evening he thanked Talleyrand for his brilliant intervention, and when he had told the whole story they laughed together over the way Napoleon had been fooled and blackmailed.
Soon after midnight Roger was outside the gate in the wall of the garden behind the Borghese mansion. Aimee let him in and took him up to her mistress.
After they had been nearly eating one another with voracious kisses he told Pauline about his interview with her terrible brother. At first she was horrified that he should have been told that she had committed bigamy. But Roger pointed out that she could be certain that he would never mention it to anyone; so the lie would go no further. She then held him away from her at arm's length, smiled at him, gave a sigh and said:
‘Roje, what a man you are! What other would have dared first to defy him, then have so skilfully brought him to heel? And he'll not now seek to interfere between us. What a triumph. Oh, I am so proud of you.'
Next day, once more wearing his Colonel's uniform, Roger reported at the Tuileries. Napoleon showed no signs at all of the epileptic fit that had struck him down the day before, and was as usual displaying his dynamic energy in dealing with innumerable problems.
The following week Roger accompanied him on a tour of inspection of several of the seven Army Corps that had been assembled for the invasion of England. They did not go as far north as Hanover, where Bernadotte commanded the First Corps, or Utrecht, where Marmont had the Second, or as far south as Brest, where Augereau was stationed with the Seventh. But at the Headquarters of the Third at Bruges, Roger had the satisfaction of enquiring politely of the sour Davoust whether he had had any deserters shot lately. At Boulogne, Soult had the Fourth Corps and, being a great devotee of music, entertained them to a fine concert. The many times wounded but apparently unkillable Lannes had, the previous year, been packed off as Ambassador to Lisbon, because of the intense irritation he had caused Napoleon by continuing to 'thee' and 'thou' him familiarly—a habit now forbidden to even the oldest friends of the First Consul. But he was too fine a soldier to be left out of the invasion plans, so had been recalled to take command of the Fifth Corps at Calais, where they found him as bluff and foul-mouthed as ever. Red-headed Ney had the Sixth at Montreuil, Murat the Cavalry Corps and Bessieres the Consular Guard.