'I am no traitor, nor a spy, if that's what you are implying.' Napoleon responded angrily. 'I am a soldier on leave. I'm trying to help my family survive a crisis thrust on them by the French Government, as it happens. So I'll thank you not to question my motives, nor my patriotism. And you?' Napoleon stared back at him, as he recalled something his mother had said after his return. 'I assume you are one of Paoli's men.'
'Of course.'
'Then you will know that the general is being backed by a foreign power.'
Benito pursed his lips. 'That's true.'
'Do you know which foreign power?'
'No.'
'You claim to be a patriot, and yet you could be working for someone who might well turn out to be an enemy of Corsican independence. I can think of a few countries that might want to get the Corsican people to throw off French rule just so that they can have the island for themselves.' He nodded at Benito. 'I'd say that makes us about the same.'
'Not the same… but near enough. Very well, Naboleone, I accept that you're a patriot, but what would happen if you were called upon by the French to fight Corsicans?'
Napoleon was silent for a moment. 'I pray that day never comes.'
'It may well do, sooner than you think.'
'Maybe. But in the meantime I will continue to persuade every Frenchman I meet to support Corsican independence. If they only give us that, then we would be their staunchest ally.'
Benito laughed. 'We will just have to keep working on the French.You keep on trying to talk them round and I'll just keep on killing the ones who won't listen. Between us we should get what we want in the end.' Then the amusement faded from his face like a candle being snuffed out. 'But if I ever see you in uniform leading troops against us, I'll kill you and I'll kill your family. Do you understand?'
Napoleon nodded.
Benito picked up the wineskin.'A toast then, to Corsica, proud and free.' He removed the stopper and took a large mouthful, before holding the wineskin out to Napoleon.
'Corisca, proud and free,' Napoleon repeated and took a swig.
'There! Now I'm tired. I have to go.'
Napoleon showed him out of the kitchen and back to the front door. As he opened the door he was aware of movement in the shadows outside. A short distance from the house, bathed in moonlight, stood four men armed with muskets. Napoleon's eyebrows rose at the sight and Benito laughed heartily.'You didn't really expect me to put myself at your mercy? I just needed to put you to the test, that's all. No point in risking my life into the bargain. I'll see you again one day. Meanwhile, consider yourself warned. As long as you are here to see your family you are safe. But if you ever return to Corsica as a serving French officer, then I'll gut you without a single regret.'
'I understand.'
'Then farewell, Naboleone Buona Parte. Until we meet in a free Corsica.'
'Until then.' Napoleon held out his hand and they shook.Then Benito turned away, strode across to his men and led them off into the darkness of the olive trees.
Napoleon returned to Ajaccio at the end of the week and told his mother and Joseph of the progress he had made. After some reflection he had decided not to tell them about his encounter with Benito. It would only worry them needlessly. He picked up some tools from a local ironmonger and persuaded Joseph to return to Mellili with him to help with the repairs.
'But I need to study my law books,' Joseph complained.
'You can do that each evening, after the work's finished.'
'I suppose so.' Joseph considered the prospect for a moment and then nodded his agreement. 'And it'll give us more time together.'
'True, but this isn't a holiday, Joseph. We must get the house repaired as soon as we can if it is to generate some income for Mother.'
As autumn gave way to winter the two brothers laboured hard to make good the repairs to the house and by the time cold rains lashed down over the hills they were able to shelter inside in comfort. There were no more visits from Benito, and after a month Napoleon stopped looking for him or his men amongst the olive groves and devoted his full attention to renovating the estate.
With the biting cold of the new year and more rain, Napoleon and Joseph retreated to Ajaccio to prepare the paperwork for their claims for compensation. The local administration claimed that it had no authority in the matter and that the only hope of a decision for their case was to pursue the matter directly with the government in Paris.
As the winter came to an end Napoleon realised that he needed far more time to ensure that his family's financial difficulties were resolved. He applied for an extension to his leave, saying that his health was poor and that he had been advised to rest and fully recuperate before returning to duties.The leave was duly granted and while work continued at Mellili Napoleon completed the documents supporting their claim and sent them off to Paris.While the family waited for the reply, Joseph returned to Italy to resume his legal training and Napoleon spent the evenings working on the opening of his history of Corsica, writing late into the night to make up for the time he had lost renovating the house and its land.
Finally a reply came from Paris and Letizia joined him in the salon of the house in Ajaccio as Napoleon read through the letter. It was brief, polite and to the point.The clerk at the Treasury who dealt with contractual disputes thanked the family for their documents but regretted to say that no further action could be taken unless the plaintiff sent a representative to Paris to pursue the case in person.
'Why?' Letizia asked.'What difference would that make? It was all there in the documents.'
'Of course it was, Mother,' Napoleon replied.
'Then why demand that we send someone? Do they think we can really afford the time and money to do that?'
'Of course not. They're hoping we'll have to sit tight in Corsica and the case can be delayed long enough for everyone to forget about it.'
Letizia sat back in her chair. 'Then what can we do?'
'I can go to Paris; force them to get on with the compensation process and not leave until it's done.'
Letizia stared at him for a moment before she nodded. 'I wish I could come with you, but there's your brothers and sisters.They need me here… When will you go?'
'As soon as possible.' He took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. 'Then it can all be sorted out, and you'll have everything that's owed to you.'
Chapter 41
It was late autumn when Napoleon reached Paris. Uncle Luciano had provided him with enough money to survive in the capital until the new year, if necessary. But Napoleon hoped to have resolved matters by that time and return to the army, since his period of leave would have expired. He would have spent fifteen months away from his regiment and he did not imagine that he would be able to abuse the army's patience for much longer.
Conscious of the need to make sure that his meagre funds lasted as long as possible, Napoleon took a room in one of the cheapest hotels he could find: a grime-streaked antique on the river, close to Notre-Dame. If the cold wind blew in the wrong direction the rank odour of the river filled every room in the Pays Normande, even the small chamber up in the attic where Lieutenant Buona Parte eked out his days between pursuing his business at the Treasury offices and strolling around the centre of the city, arms clasped behind his back and head down, deep in thought.
Napoleon found a small subscription library close to the hotel where he could choose from amongst a diverse range of novels, plays and philosophy. Monsieur Cardin's library occupied the ground floor of a building that was otherwise given over to a company employing seamstresses who worked on gowns for affluent customers. Monsieur Cardin was a thin, spare man who dressed in old clothes and wore a wig from which all the powder had disappeared years ago so that it now had the appearance of mattress stuffing. His wire-rimmed spectacles were thick and made his dark brown eyes look like tiny dots of ink. The neglect of his appearance was due to his obsession, his one true love – the books that lined every wall of his premises. As the young artillery officer's eyes scanned along the rows of books he felt a giddy joy in being exposed to the most eclectic range of writers he could imagine. At present he was most interested in Monsieur Cardin's recent acquisitions in the section devoted to political philosophy, particularly a new work, little more than a pamphlet, with the terse title 'A New Order', and Napoleon had started to read the introduction.