With his heart hammering in his chest, Roger read the letter through again more carefully. It had been written as recently as the 4th of the month, and its swift transit was explained by Isabella having sent it by fast personal courier as far as Lisbon, She added that she had sent a duplicate of it to La Belle Étoile in Paris, with her prayers that one or the other would reach him in time for him to save her.
She and her husband had left Naples at the end of January in order that she might have her baby in the traditional manner at the castle from which he took his title. She expected the event in the latter part of March. She still felt that she had been right in her decision not to elope with Roger from Naples, and that he could not love her less on that account. To have done otherwise would have been shameful. She had intended to resign herself to a life without love except that for her child. But she had discovered that her husband was a monster.
Little Quetzal was one of the very few people who did not shun the village witch, so the old crone doted on the boy. She had told him that Don Diego had bought poison from her, and that from her private reading of his horoscope he intended to use it on his wife. The motive for such a frightful act was, alas, all too plain. Some weeks previously he had conceived one of his uncontrollable passions for an Englishwoman. She was a beautiful creature, but cold, designing and ambitious.
Like other Spanish noblemen Don Diego never stooped to conceal his infidelities from his wife; and, in one of his black, morbid fits, he had told Isabella frankly that the cause of his distress was that their beautiful visitor would not give in to him or any other man for either love or money; she wanted both a title and a fortune, and her price was marriage. A week later Quetzal’s terrible discovery had disclosed the way Don Diego’s mind was now working. Since he was in no situation to pay the Englishwoman’s price without first getting rid of Isabella, his wild obsession was such that he had determined to take the step which would enable him to pay it.
Isabella felt confident that she would be safe until she had had her child. Afterwards, she meant to exercise the utmost caution and keep to her bed for a fortnight, as there she need eat nothing but food that had been specially prepared for her by Maria. But by mid-April, or possibly earlier, it was certain that the doctor would declare her well enough to leave for Madrid. From then on she would be in extreme danger, but fit to travel. So she begged Roger to hasten to Madrid at the earliest possible moment and carry her off back to England with him.
Roger noted that it did not seem to have even entered her head that since she had refused to leave Naples with him his passion for her might have cooled. It was clear that her love for him had not abated one iota; and obviously she assumed that his love for her had equally sustained no diminution. Now that her letter, with her desperate plea, raised her image so clearly in his mind again it seemed as if for the past four months he had been boxed up in an airtight compartment, and that its walls had suddenly been whipped away like paper in a gale.
Georgina Etheredge was a case apart, and—with the possible exception of his calf-love for Athénaïs de Rochambeau—he knew that he had never felt so deeply for any woman as he had for Isabella. The idea that her life was in danger made his throat contract; yet he caught himself wondering if he would ever quite recover the wild passion for her that had obsessed him in Naples, and that he had since striven so successfully to kill.
The thought of Amanda gave him pause for a moment. He was not committed to her in any way; yet for these past few days he had been envisaging the seductive possibilities of married life with her. If she felt as he did, everything could be so simple and so suitable. The wedding would be from Walhampton, the ceremony in the old parish church at Lymington, blessings and good wishes would be showered on them by all their friends. They would have only themselves to blame if they were not happy; and his poor, darling mother would be overjoyed in seeing her dearest wish come true.
In contrast to that picture Isabella did not even mention the prospects of an annulment, and he could not possibly expose her to the risk of insult, as his kept woman, in London; neither could he take her to Lymington. During his fit of madness in Naples he had had vague thoughts of taking her down to Hampshire and passing her off as his wife, but he knew that he would never be able to bring himself to do that now. Should some ill-chance reveal such a deception, in his mother’s present state the shock and shame involved might prove so great a blow that it would aggravate her illness and send her into a swift decline.
Yet Isabella was asking no more of him than he had asked of her four months ago, and in her case with far greater reason. From the moment he had first skimmed through her letter there had been no real doubt in his mind. He knew that he must go to Spain, if only to save her from becoming the victim of Don Diego’s ungovernable passion. As there were no other possible means of doing so than eloping with her, it followed that Fate had, after all, decreed that their lives were to be permanently united.
It struck him that the blind goddess had behaved with a certain cynicism, in first causing him to wreck his professional career by refusing a journey to Spain that would have led to reopening his nerve-racking affaire and now compelling him to go there at the price of his new prospects of quiet, domestic happiness. But he swiftly upbraided himself for a thought so disloyal to the woman whom only four months before he had loved so desperately. That love would blossom anew once he was with Isabella again and prove a buckler to them against all the difficulties they might meet with when he got her to England.
Fortunately he had ample money to keep them in modest comfort for a long time to come. They could live very quietly somewhere in the country under an assumed name; perhaps in Kent or Sussex, as in both counties there were now many French exiles, so Isabella being a foreigner would not arouse unwelcome interest in either of them. He would give out in London that he had been sent abroad again; and could only pray that the Catholic Church would allow Don Diego to repudiate Isabella so that they could regularise their union while his mother was still able to give them her blessing. There was, too, always just a chance that Fate might intervene again, and give Isabella her freedom through her husband’s death.
Swiftly upon these thoughts another came to Roger. Since he was going to Spain, both courtesy and his own interests suggested that he ought to offer himself to Mr. Pitt to carry any despatches that were awaiting transit to Madrid. At least by doing so he could show that he bore no rancour against the Prime Minister, and was still willing to serve him in any way he could. It was possible, too, that by this time Mr. Pitt had had confirmation of de Mirabeau’s alliance with the Court, and so took a better view of his ex-agent’s last activities in Paris. If so, Roger felt, there was just a chance that he might be forgiven his insubordination, and entrusted with a new mission on his return from Spain.
At even this slender prospect of reinstatement his spirits went up with a bound. He had felt all along that no opening he could find would prove so congenial to him as his old work and, with luck, a resumption of it would enable him to live abroad with Isabella as Madame de Breuc, which would solve a multitude of problems for them.
At once he hurried off to Downing Street; but it was a Monday, and he learned that the Prime Minister, having as usual spent Sunday at Holwood, was not expected back until it was time for him to take his place in the House of Commons that evening.
Roger knew it would be useless to leave a note, as Mr. Pitt was too poor to be able to afford a private secretary and very often left his letters lying unopened for weeks.
It was one of the strangest anomalies that by his financial genius Mr. Pitt should have brought Britain, in the space of a few years, from the verge of bankruptcy to a wonderful prosperity, yet be quite incapable of managing his own affairs; and another that, while he was incredibly hardworking and extremely punctilious about the discharge of all business that could be transacted verbally, he was one of the worst correspondents in the world. He was shamefully robbed by his servants and hopelessly in debt; but, maintaining that the nation’s affairs must come before his own, he refused to open letters from fear they would be bills, which would distract his attention from more important matters; and he never answered a letter unless he thought it absolutely imperative to do so.
In consequence, Roger, being reluctant to waste a whole day, decided that the best course was to go down to see him in the country. So, returning to Amesbury House, he had a horse saddled and rode through Southwark, down the Old Kent Road, to Bromley. A few miles beyond the village he came to Mr. Pitt’s country home and, having had himself announced, was shown through into the garden.
There he found the tall, lean, worn-looking Prime Minister admiring his crocuses and daffodils. He smiled as Roger approached and asked: “Well, Mr. Brook, am I to take this as a social call?”
Roger bowed. “Nay, sir. I would not be guilty of such boldness. It is that I am about to set out for Spain.”
Mr. Pitt raised his eyebrows. “Is it not a little much to assume my forgiveness; and by so bald an announcement take it for granted that although a month has elapsed since we last met, I am still willing to give you my instructions?”
“I made no such assumption, sir; and while I should be delighted to be received back into your good graces, I did not come here to ask forgiveness.”
Giving him an amused look, the Prime Minister remarked: “Humility has never been one of your outstanding attributes, Mr. Brook; but as I have little use for that quality myself I do not think the less of you for that. Since we are such a stiff-necked pair, I will for once incline my own head a trifle. Your reports from Paris have turned out considerably better than I had any reason to suppose would be the case. Mark you, I still most strongly disapprove of the manner in which you involved yourself with the Queen and her Austrian friends. And I equally disapprove your secret understanding with that rogue de Talleyrand-Périgord. But your information about de Mirabeau was correct, and your general assessment upon numerous other matters shows that you did not allow yourself to be fooled. In view of that, and your having thought better of the pigheadedness you displayed in February, we will let bygones be bygones.”
Roger’s hopes first thing that morning for such an outcome to this interview had been only slender ones, and the nearer he got to Bromley the more they had tended to decrease; so his reaction was all the greater and, being no more given to hypocrisy than to humility, he expressed his gratitude and pleasure in no uncertain terms.
Waving aside his thanks, Mr. Pitt went on: “Owing to the Don’s natural dilatoriness where business is concerned, little has been lost by your delay in setting out. They made their démarche on February 10th, and I sent for you at once to take our reply. Since you failed me, I had it handed to del Campo, the Spanish Ambassador here; but so far no answer to it has arrived. It fits in well, therefore, that I should now follow up my letter by sending you to Madrid as my personal emissary, to protest at their delay and demand full satisfaction.”
The Prime Minister’s words simultaneously delighted and alarmed Roger. He was still completely in the dark as to the nature of this trouble with the Spaniards, but it was clear that Mr. Pitt meant to send him to Spain with some form of diplomatic status; and that would be not only reinstatement but promotion. On the other hand, Mr. Pitt was obviously under the impression that, however awkwardly he might have put it, he had repented his refusal to go to Spain and had come there in the hope that it might not yet be too late for him to be given this mission. With an effort he brought himself to say:
“ ’Tis only proper to inform you, sir, that I am about to proceed to Madrid because my private affairs require my presence there. I came here only to offer my services in case you had despatches that you wished conveyed thither.”
“I thank you for your candour, Mr. Brook,” came the reply, with a slight frown. “But I trust this does not mean that you are still unwilling to serve me in the more important matter?”
Roger’s mind hovered with frightful uncertainty for a moment on the horns of a dilemma. If he accepted, he would be tied by his country’s interests and might find them come in direct conflict with plans for his elopement with Isabella. As against that, should he refuse this chance of getting back into the old work that meant so much to him he felt certain he would never be given another. Mr. Pitt was far too intolerant of half-hearted, undependable people; and, as though he read Roger’s thoughts, he remarked now with some asperity:
“I need hardly stress that should you accept my instructions they must take precedence of all else. You have already, more than once, allowed other interests to distract you from the King’s business, and we had best part company for good if that is likely to occur again.”
Those words “the King’s business” rang a sudden bell in Roger’s mind. They recalled to him his mother down at Lymington with, he feared, only a limited time to live, while duty kept his father tied to his flag-ship, far away at sea. It was the King’s business that separated them and, of necessity, called for sacrifices in thousands of other people’s lives. For the first time he acknowledged to himself that Mr. Pitt had been justified in censuring him for devoting so much of his energies to Madame Marie Antoinette’s affairs, and that during the past year he had, all too frequently, allowed influences that touched his sentiments to interfere with strict concentration on his duties.
With swift contrition he said: “I am truly sorry, sir, that in my last mission I did not give you full satisfaction; but if you will entrust me with this affair in Spain I give you my word that I will not allow the private business that takes me to Madrid to interfere with its execution.”
Mr. Pitt nodded approval, and his thin face broke into a smile. He felt that Roger had had his lesson and would prove more conscientious in future. “Let us go into the house, then,” he said; and as they walked towards it across the lawn he added: “You will, no doubt, have seen the reference in His Majesty’s speech on opening Parliament to this difference of ours with Spain?”
“No, sir. I have this past fortnight been in the country with my mother at Lymington, so I fear I am somewhat out of touch with affairs.”
“It has aroused little comment as yet, owing to public interest being concentrated on events in Austria and Belgium; but unless we can curb the Don’s pretensions promptly, it may well lead to a dangerous situation.”
As they entered the house by a pair of french windows and settled themselves in the Prime Minister’s library, he went on: “This then is the issue. As a result of their early explorations the Spaniards have long claimed suzerainty over the whole of the North American Pacific coast right up to Alaska; but they have never troubled to establish trading posts much further north than San Francisco. However, in ’74 one of their Captains discovered an exceptionally fine natural harbour in the neighbourhood of the island of Vancouver, and adopted the local Indian name for the place: Nootka Sound.
“Four years later Captain Cook also came upon it, and used it for some months as a base during one of his voyages of discovery. His report upon it as a valuable anchorage was duly filed, and when the cessation of the American War enabled commerce to expand again some of our traders began to use it. Apparently the Indian trappers bring their skins there to a market at certain seasons of the year, and the Chinese pay very high prices for rare furs, so a new trade in such commodities arose across the North Pacific, between Nootka Sound and China.
“In ’88 several merchants of the British East India Company decided to form an Association of their own for the development of this profitable business; so they sent out one John Mears, an ex-lieutenant of the Royal Navy, with orders to establish a permanent trading post at Nootka. Mears bought a piece of land from the Indian Chief, Macquilla, and the exclusive right to trade with his subjects; then he built a small settlement on the land he had acquired, fortified it and hoisted the British flag.
“Last summer it seems that Flores, the Viceroy of Mexico, became alarmed at rumours that the Russians were establishing themselves on the North American seaboard, so he sent two warships under the command of a Captain Martinez north to investigate. To his surprise Martinez found Nootka occupied by the British. He destroyed the settlement, seized two ships that we had there, and carried Mears and his men back as prisoners to Mexico.
“We have had no Ambassador in Madrid since the recall of Mr. William Eden, last June; and Mr. Anthony Merry, our Consul, whom you will meet there, has since been acting as Chargé d’ Affaires. I had the first rumours of this matter from Mr. Merry in the latter part of January. Then, on February 10th, the Conde del Campo, who is the Spanish Ambassador at the Court of St. James, presented a formal note upon it.
“The note stated that out of His Most Catholic Majesty’s consideration for His Britannic Majesty, the prisoners have since been liberated; but it asserted the right of Spain to absolute sovereignty in those districts ‘which have been occupied and frequented by Spaniards for so many years’. Further, it called upon us to punish those responsible for the undertaking and to prohibit future ones of a similar nature.
“The statement that the Spaniards have occupied these districts for many years is entirely without foundation, and I will never submit to such unprovoked insult to the British flag. Having no Ambassador in Madrid to instruct, I took the matter in hand myself. After consultation with the Cabinet I replied to del Campo through His Grace of Leeds that an act of violence having been committed made it necessary to suspend all discussion on the pretensions set forth in his note until just and adequate satisfaction should have been made for a proceeding so injurious to Great Britain.”
Mr. Pitt stood up, and, walking over to a big globe map of the world that occupied a corner of the room, added: “There the matter rests. But I wish you to see what this strangely named harbour on a far-distant shore may mean to us in the future.”
With his long, sensitive forefinger he pointed first to the United States. “See, here are England’s first Colonies in the Americas. A hundred years ago they were no more than a number of small widely scattered settlements; today they form an independent nation whose wealth, population and power already exceeds that of many States in Europe.”
His finger moved north. “And here are our Canadian territories, with their flourishing communities at Quebec, Three Rivers, Montreal and Williamsburg. In another two generations those towns may be fine cities having populations as large as Boston, New York and Philadelphia have today; and in the same area hundreds of smaller towns and villages may have sprung up.”
Roger nodded. “You mean, sir, that now the hatchet has been buried between the Canadian-French and our own settlers, the population will increase much faster from both enjoying greater security to develop their properties and rear families on them?”
“I do indeed; but it is not that alone I have in mind. For many centuries the land of England has sufficed to support her population, but the time is fast approaching when it will do so no longer. Only last summer, when the famine in France was nearing its worst, Monsieur Necker wrote to me begging that I would help avert the crisis by allowing a large quantity of grain to be sent from Britain; yet, to my regret, I had to refuse him; for the safety margin here was so narrow that to have done so would have meant acute shortage among our own people.
“With the great increase of factories in our towns a new age is dawning and I foresee a not-far-distant time when we shall have both to import large quantities of grain ourselves and also encourage the most hardy and adventurous among our people to emigrate. Therefore, both through natural causes and a great influx of new settlers, we are justified in anticipating a very large increase in the inhabitants of Canada. Should that come to pass, as it must short of some unforeseen catastrophe, in another few decades the Canadians will be a great people, and they will require a far larger domain than they have at present on which to support themselves.”
Once more Mr. Pitt put his finger on the globe, and its tip rested in the centre of the big blank space, eight times as wide as Canada was then, between the eastern end of Lake Ontario and the Pacific coast.
“Look, now, at that vast unknown territory east of Lake Simco and Fort Toronto. ’Tis into its endless miles of forest, plains and rivers that the Canadians must spread, and from them draw their future sustenance. But look again at its far extremity; there are Vancouver Island and Nootka Sound. If we allow the Spaniards to maintain their title to Nootka they will spread westward from it, and in a few years claim the half of this splendid northern Empire for their own. That I will not suffer. I want it all. Our Canadians will find a good use for it in the future, and I will fight Spain now if need be so that they may have it when we are dead and gone. I will make no compromise, but am determined to have every square mile of it; so that in course of time Canada may become the mighty child of Britain that I would have her be.”
For a moment Roger remained looking at his great master in silent admiration, then he said: “What think you, sir, are the chances that we shall have to fight the Dons, in order to make possible this splendid vision of yours?”
Mr. Pitt turned and walked back to his desk. “I think everything hangs upon our forcing them to take a prompt decision in the matter. As I see it our present case is very similar to that with which we were faced in ’61. The late Don Carlos had then been but two years on the throne of Spain. As a young Prince, while Duke of Parma, he had conquered Naples and afterwards reigned there for twenty-five years, doing much to improve the condition of that country. But on his succeeding his father as King of Spain he found his own country ill prepared for war. Even so, his ambitions led him to enter into a secret pact with France, in which it was agreed that he should make certain demands of us and, if we failed to satisfy them, join France in the war she was then waging against us.
“My father was then Prime Minister. He saw at once the danger of the situation, and that the only way to meet it was to employ highhanded measures. He urged very strongly that His Most Catholic Majesty should be told that either he must withdraw his demands forthwith or we would instantly declare war upon him. Don Carlos’ navy and army were then in no state to commence hostilities, moreover his money chest was near empty and he was dependent for paying his forces upon the arrival of a great treasure fleet that had not yet set sail from Peru. Therefore, had my father’s advice been taken, the Spaniards would either have been forced to climb down and war with them been averted, or we should have caught them at a grave disadvantage.
“Unfortunately King George III was then very young, and had only the previous year ascended the throne. He placed more reliance on my Lord Bute, who had been his tutor, than he did upon my father, with the result that my father resigned the seals of office. In his place my Lord Bute was appointed principal Minister. He proceeded to temporise with the Spaniards and a long exchange of notes ensued, which achieved nothing. Don Carlos was given time to organise his forces and get his treasure fleet safely across the Atlantic, instead of its being sunk or captured. When he was ready he declared war upon us, and although we defeated him in the end, he inflicted grave damage on us before we succeeded in doing so.”
Roger smiled. “That certainly is a lesson, sir. Am I to take it, then, that Spain is again unprepared today?”
“Not to the extent she was in ’61. The new King, Carlos IV, is, I believe, a weak and inept ruler; but he still enjoys the benefit of his father’s endeavours to raise Spain to her former greatness. After his apprenticeship of a quarter of a century as King of Naples, Carlos III reigned for nearly thirty years in Spain. He was therefore no novice in the art of Kingship, and being a hard-working, intelligent, conscientious man—in fact the best King that Spain has had for many generations—he did a great deal for his country. Moreover, in the Counts d’Aranda and Florida Blanca he had two great Prime Ministers to assist him. The latter is still in office, and in the event of war will undoubtedly follow a policy which would have been approved by his late master. Therefore, if we have to fight it will not be against the weak Spain of Carlos IV but the relatively strong Spain created by Carlos III.”
Mr. Pitt stood up, walked over to a side table, poured out two glasses of Port, handed one to Roger, took a drink himself, and went on: “In spite of what I have just said, in the event of war with Spain—with Spain alone, mark you—I have no fears whatever regarding its outcome. We can beat the Dons with ease. But this is where the lesson of my father’s policy towards them comes in. They know that they dare not fight us single-handed, so they are now endeavouring to postpone further discussion on this matter until they have made certain of securing an ally. The ally they hope to win is, of course, France.”
“You mean, sir, that they will invoke the Family Compact?” Roger murmured.
“Precisely. As you must know, King Carlos III fought us a second time during his reign. He was then most reluctant to do so, but in ’79 the French called on him to honour his treaty with them, and at great cost to himself he did so. Now it is France’s turn to help Spain, and it is difficult to see how she can refuse to pay/ner debt. But in view of her recent internal troubles it is certain that she will procrastinate, and urge the Dons to settle their dispute with us without resorting to war. That should give us the time we need. If we can force them into a corner while they are still uncertain whether they can place definite reliance on French support, I feel convinced that they will climb down.”
“You are then, sir, prepared to threaten them with war?”
“I am. If their stomachs are so high that they feel compelled to accept our challenge, that will be regrettable, but by no means catastrophic; for if they go to war with us on their own ’tis as good as certain that France will refuse to honour her obligations, on the plea that hostilities were entered into without sufficient consultation with her. War with Spain presents no serious danger to us, so ’tis far wiser to risk it than the possibility that we may later be called on to fight Spain and France together. Your task, therefore, is to browbeat the Spaniards into a settlement before they have time to shame their ally into a definite undertaking to fight beside them.”
Roger could hardly believe his ears, but a few moments later he had the evidence of his eyes to support them. The Prime Minister had drawn a sheet of notepaper towards him and was writing on it. When he had done he sanded it carefully then handed it across. It was a Letter of Marque consisting of a single potent sentence:
Mr. Roger Brook knows my mind upon the matter of Nootka Sound, and is commissioned by me to speak upon it.
William Pitt.
As Roger folded it and tucked it into his inner pocket, Mr. Pitt said: “I shall be seeing His Grace of Leeds tonight and also my brother, Chatham. If you will wait upon the former at the Foreign Office tomorrow morning he will furnish you with such funds as you may require, and papers ensuring that all diplomatic facilities will be afforded to you. When you have finished with His Grace go to the Admiralty and send your name up to the First Lord. I will ask my brother this evening to give orders for a frigate to carry you to Lisbon, and when you see him tomorrow he will inform you of the name and port of sailing of the ship selected. Now; are there any questions you would like to ask me?”
“Yes, sir. In the event of the Dons climbing down, have you any instructions for me with regard to terms? I do not infer the giving way by a hair’s-breadth over Nootka; but they are a proud people, and did you see your way to offer them something to salve their pride it might make the difference between peace and war.”
The Prime Minister smiled. “Mr. Brook, I approve your language. ’Tis a pleasure to see how readily you slip into the role of a budding Ambassador; but I think we must leave the discussion of terms to a fully accredited envoy. Mr. Alleyne Fitzherbert has been sent his recall from the Court of The Hague, and should peace continue I have it in mind to send him out to fill the vacant post of Ambassador in Madrid; but another month or more must elapse before he would be ready to proceed there. When he arrives in London His Grace of Leeds and I will discuss with him how far we are prepared to meet the Dons should your own mission prove successful. They have long complained of infringements by our adventurous merchants of their rights in South American waters and of British smuggling activities between our islands in the West Indies and the Spanish Main. We could, if we would, give a formal undertaking to check these interferences with their commerce; but it will be time enough to go into details about such matters if your report of their attitude proves favourable.”
“My function then, sir, is solely to threaten war?”
“Yes. You will not, of course, actually declare it, but are to make it plain that we mean war unless the Spaniards are willing to give us full satisfaction without further delay. If they consent to do so, you may indicate that they would find me not unwilling to give favourable consideration to steps for removing their commercial grievances against us. But before I am prepared to talk at all, I must have their assurance that the North American Pacific coast from parallel forty-five degrees northward to Alaska, and all its hinterland as far east as the St. Lawrence river, will be recognised in a formal treaty as part of His Britannic Majesty’s dominions.”
As Roger rode back to London he could still hardly believe it true that he had been entrusted with such a weighty matter. But as he thought it over he saw that his mission was actually a very straightforward one. He was being sent to Madrid as a herald to throw down the gauntlet, and the possible results of his action had been well weighed beforehand. If the Spaniards failed to pick it up, that would stop a war, but even if they accepted the challenge, that should prevent a war of much greater magnitude with real menace to the security of Britain.
Nevertheless, having been given such a task showed that Mr. Pitt could not think too ill of him, in spite of the recent differences that had occurred between them, and his reinstatement in the great man’s service filled him with elation. He was still somewhat perturbed at the thought of Isabella, as he realised very plainly that he was now no longer in a position simply to go out to Madrid and abduct her. But, as an offset to that, now that a frigate was to carry him to Lisbon he would reach Madrid considerably earlier than he could otherwise have done; and once there he felt confident that he would find some means of protecting her. The whole essence of his mission was to obtain a plain answer swiftly, so it could not detain him in the Spanish capital for long. If Isabella was really in imminent danger she could run away from her husband and somehow he would arrange for her to hide in the city until he was ready to leave it.
Next day he waited upon the Duke of Leeds at the Foreign Office. His handsome Grace proved as charming and friendly as ever. He congratulated Roger on his reinstatement, and further increased his elation by saying that he had found much valuable information in his reports from Paris, which were now proving to have contained more accurate forecasts on some aspects of the situation than those sent by the British Embassy.
He added that, in his view, Roger had been right to go to Florence and Naples on behalf of Madame Marie Antoinette, as they had plenty of people who could collect information about the deputies, but no other who was now so well placed as himself to inform them of the intentions of the Queen; and that he knew Mr. Pitt’s strictures on the matter to have been governed, not by disapproval of Roger’s initiative, but by his strong feeling that no servant of the British Crown should involve himself in anything which might weaken the new democratic Government of France.
Much heartened to find he had such a champion in His Grace, Roger received from him bills of exchange on Lisbon and Madrid, a diplomatic passport, and a letter of introduction to Mr. Anthony Merry instructing the Consul to render all possible assistance. He then walked on up Whitehall to the Admiralty.
After a wait of an hour he was shown in to the First Lord. It was the first time that Roger had met Mr. Pitt’s elder brother, so he had been looking forward to the interview with interest. The second Earl of Chatham was then thirty-three, so some two and a half years older than the Prime Minister. He had started life as an Army officer and had served both at the siege of Gibraltar and in the American War. It was said that his appointment to the Admiralty, eighteen months earlier, had not been altogether due to nepotism, as he was held in high personal regard by the King; but he was far from generally popular and entirely lacked both the wit and energy of the brilliant Billy. He was of heavier build, lethargic by nature, and affected with the same nervous frigidity in the presence of strangers.
As Lord Chatham expressed no interest whatever in his visitor, the interview was limited to a formal exchange of compliments and the handing over of a letter; so within a minute Roger was out of the First Lord’s room, and prepared to agree with the general opinion that he was cold, ponderous and haughty.
Roger had already noted that the letter was addressed to “Captain G. B. Harcourt, H.M.S. Amazon, Lying in Portsmouth Roads”; so he walked over to Charing Cross and booked a seat in the night coach for Portsmouth. He then returned to Amesbury House, wrote to his mother, finished his packing and spent his last few hours in London in the company of the amiable Droopy Ned. By eight o’clock the following morning he was on Portsmouth Hard.
A bumboat took him off to H.M.S. Amazon; and when introducing himself to her Captain he mentioned that it was in her that his father had returned to England on being recalled from the West Indian Squadron in the summer of ’83. As that was nearly seven years ago Roger was surprised to hear that Captain Harcourt had had the Amazon then, and well remembered carrying his father home with despatches.
The Captain remarked that as he was a long way down the list, far from expecting promotion to the command of a ship-of-the-line, he was very lucky to have retained a ship at all in times of peace, as after the late war scores of fighting vessels had been scrapped. When serving in the West Indies he had known a dozen promising junior Captains who had since been high and dry for years. For instance, one youngster of extraordinary dash and brilliance named Nelson; but he had been on the beach for a long time past, and it was now doubtful if he would ever get another ship unless Britain again went to war.
Roger naturally said nothing of the business that was carrying him to Lisbon; but he wondered if it would result in Captain Nelson, and those other frustrated young sea-dogs, being recalled from their quiet farms to once more pace a quarter-deck and order their ships to close upon the enemy. He sincerely hoped not; for if shaking a fist in the face of the Spaniards could prevent it, the fault would not lie with him if Britain had to draw the sword again.
H.M.S. Amazon was that month the duty frigate which was always kept in readiness for special service, so within an hour of Roger coming aboard she put to sea. Off Ushant they struck bad weather, but in spite of that, owing to good handling the ship put in to Lisbon on the afternoon of Sunday, March 28th.
On landing Roger went straight to the Embassy, where Mr. Robert Walpole, who had been British Minister to Portugal for nearly eighteen years, gave him an excellent dinner, put him up for the night and made arrangements for him to proceed on his journey to Madrid the following morning.
Only then did Roger’s troubles begin. The Portuguese roads proved abominable and those in Spain, if possible, worse. Mr. Walpole had provided him with a Portuguese courier who spoke enough French to act as interpreter, but neither bribes nor threats delivered through him seemed to hurry the personnel that accompanied Roger’s coach. It was drawn by eight mules, while an additional team of six ambled along behind, as a reserve which could be hooked on in front of the others to help pull the coach up hills, or out of boggy patches, when it got stuck—which seemed to happen with maddening regularity every three-quarters of an hour. The muleteers proved more mulish than the mules; and the six armed guards, which Mr. Walpole had insisted on his hiring to protect him from bandits, apparently hoped that the journey would last a month, as they refused to lift a finger to help even when the coach had to be dragged across the worst of the stony watercourses that severed the road at the bottom of every valley.
The inns in France that Roger had regarded as such miserable places were, he now found, mansions by comparison with those in the Peninsula. Most of them consisted only of a single bare room, with a lean-to behind it in which the innkeeper and his family huddled in appalling squalor. Few of them could even boast a chimney stack, so that the smoke that failed to find its way out through a hole in the roof filled the soot-blackened common room where occasional travellers both ate and slept. Every one of them was so alive with bugs that he was soon red from head to foot with bites, and in an endeavour to escape further torment took to sleeping in his coach. Such food as he could get was brought to him half raw, half cold and smothered in garlic; so that he was near sick every time he forced himself to swallow a mouthful. And the journey seemed never-ending.
Actually, although it did not appear so to him at the time, his lavish offers of largesse for increased speed did have considerable effect, as the coach covered the 400 miles in twelve days, instead of the three weeks that he was assured it would normally have taken. On Friday the 9th of April he arrived in Madrid, itching all over, half-famished from lack of decent food, and cursing Spain for the lousiest country that he had ever had the ill-fortune to enter.
To add to his fury he found the British Embassy shut up; but, to his relief, it soon transpired that Mr. Anthony Merry was living in a smaller house near by. The Consul turned out to be a youngish man of not very enterprising disposition. Madrid was his first post and he had not been there many months when the Ambassador had been recalled, leaving him as Chargé d’ Affaires; and it was soon clear to Roger that he did not care for the responsibility, particularly now that serious trouble was brewing with the Spaniards. It was perhaps this, added to a natural politeness, which accounted for the particular warmth of the welcome he extended to Mr. Pitt’s personal representative.
He said a little plaintively that it was all very well for Whitehall to complain about delays; they did not realise there how hopeless it was for anyone of his junior rank to compel the attention of a Spanish Hidalgo like Count Florida Blanca, but perhaps the Prime Minister would be more impressed by a special envoy, even if Roger did not carry the powers of a Minister Plenipotentiary.
Roger had a good mind to tell him that rank had nothing to do with the matter, and that he ought to be ashamed of himself. For ten months he had been the sole representative of His Britannic Majesty at the Court of Madrid, and that was status enough for any man to demand an audience of the King of Spain himself, if need be. But Mr. Merry’s lack of initiative was not his affair, and, even tired and irritable as he was, he was much too tactful to give gratuitous offence to a man upon whom he would have to depend for all sorts of trivial services. So he gratefully accepted Mr. Merry’s offer of a bath, put on clean linen and rejoined him for dinner.
Mr. Merry was naturally anxious to hear all the news from home and would have liked to spend the evening enjoying an account of the latest gossip in London, but Roger had no mind to let the grass grow under his feet. While the servants remained in the room he did his best to satisfy the craving of his host, but directly they had gone, he said:
“I expect to be here only a few days, so I have no time to waste, and I would be greatly obliged if you would tell me all you can of the Court of Madrid.”
Mr. Merry laughed. “I think, sir, you would be well advised to count your days as weeks while you are in this country; for it is the immemorial custom here.”
“That we shall see, sir,” replied Roger with a hard note in his voice. “In any case, I should be glad if you would accede to my request.”
His host shrugged. “Let us start then with King Carlos. He is a typical Bourbon, both physically and mentally. His muscular strength is quite exceptional, he is entirely devoted to sport and enjoys only the simplest amusements. He is religious, good-tempered, believes implicitly in the Divine Right of Kings, and is one of the stupidest men you could meet in a long day’s march. It is Queen Maria Luisa who wears the breeches. You must have heard the classic story of her as a little girl?”
As Roger shook his head Mr. Merry went on: “She was a daughter of Parma, and married at the age of twelve. The very day she heard that her marriage contract with the Prince of the Asturias had been signed, she became so puffed up that she said to her brother, Ferdinand: ‘You must learn to treat me with more respect, because I’m going to be the Queen of Spain, while you’ll never be anything but the little Duke of Parma.’ To which he replied: ‘If that’s the case, the little Duke of Parma will now have the honour of boxing the Queen of Spain’s ears.’ And he did.”
Roger laughed. “ ’Tis a delightful anecdote. Does she still ride so high a horse?”
“Yes. For all the years her husband was heir-apparent she kept him under her thumb; and on his succeeding to the throne in ’88 it was she, not he, who called the first Council of Ministers in the new reign. She is a ghoul to look at, with small, pig-like black eyes, no teeth of her own but false ones that fit badly, and a greenish, withered skin. Yet from her teens she has never ceased to command lovers to her bed, and woe betide any handsome fellow of the Bodyguard who has the courage to refuse her.”
“Has she any special favourite at the moment?”
“There is a young man of about twenty-three, named Manuel Godoy, who bids fair to become a permanency. He was a Lieutenant in the Flemish Guard at the time Maria Luisa first singled him out for her favours. She was then still Princess of the Asturias, and from fear of her father-in-law kept her liaisons as quiet as possible, but since his death she has made no secret of them, and has showered honours on this handsome paramour of hers. Since he has stayed the pace for nearly three years now, it seems likely that he has acquired a certain influence over her other than by merely satisfying her passions.”
“Think you, sir, that it might repay us to court this Senor Godoy, and promise him some substantial reward if he is willing to use his influence with the Queen in our favour?”
Mr. Merry shook his head. “No, sir. I fear you would find such a course a waste of time. ’Tis not that Godoy would refuse your presents. It is said that he was so poor when he first became the Queen’s lover that he had to spend every other day in bed in order to have his only shirt washed; so he is now seeking by every possible means to amass a fortune while his star is in the ascendant. But I greatly doubt if he has the power to be of the least service to you in any political matter. It is believed that on King Carlos IV coming to the throne the Queen made a secret pact with Count Florida Blanca, by which he was to be left in control of all affairs of State while she should be allowed a free hand in the disposal of offices and honours. So ’tis to the Prime Minister that I advise you to address yourself.”
“He has held sway at this Court for many years, has he not?” Roger asked.
“For the best part of thirteen, sir. He came to power as the result of the resignation of Grimaldo and General O’Reilly, following the disastrous joint attack by Spanish and Tuscan forces on the Moors of Algiers. His only serious rival for power has been the famous General Conde d’Aranda, who was King Carlos III’s first great Minister. He lost his place in ’73, owing to the humiliation Spain suffered at our hands in her abortive attempt to deprive Britain of the Falkland Islands. He was sent as Ambassador to Paris and remained there fifteen years; but his personal prestige continued to be so great, and he is such a forceful personality, that a slip on Florida Blanca’s part at any time might well have led to d’Aranda being recalled to replace him as Prime Minister, Even now, although d’Aranda has been living in retirement for the past few years, his recall is not beyond the bounds of possibility.”
Roger asked if Mr. Merry knew the Sidonia y Ulloas, but he did not, and had heard the name only as that of one of the great Spanish families. For a further hour they talked on while Roger absorbed as much information as he could about the Spanish Court; then, just as they were about to go to bed, he said:
“Since Count Florida Blanca is his own Foreign Minister we shall be spared the formality of first submitting our business through a third party. I should be glad therefore, sir, if you would make the necessary arrangements to present me to him tomorrow.”
Mr. Merry smiled. “You will be fortunate, sir, if you succeed in obtaining an audience with the Prime Minister under two weeks. The best I can do is to take you out to Aranjuez, where the Court is now in residence, and make you known to one of his secretaries.”
“How far is Aranjuez?” Roger enquired.
“It lies about thirty miles to the south of the capital. ’Tis the Versailles of Spain and the Court spends a good part of each year there. For convenience the Embassy owns a villa in the neighbourhood. If you wish I will have it opened up, and you can stay there.”
“I would be obliged, sir, if you will. And thirty miles being a long day’s journey in Spain, I trust it will be convenient to you to make an early start, in order that we may not arrive too late for me to make my first contact with the Court tomorrow evening.”
“As you will, sir.” Mr. Merry bowed. “But unlike the sandy tracks over which you have been struggling in your journey across Estramadura and Castile, the road between the capital and the King’s country home is a fine one; so if we leave at eight we should be there early in the afternoon.”
Although it was only April, when Roger arrived in Madrid he had found it sizzling with a heat that is rarely experienced in England except during the height of summer, yet on the following morning it was near freezing. As he stood shivering in his cloak, Mr. Merry told him that these extremes of temperature occurred daily and were due to Madrid being over 2,000 feet above sea level; then as they drove through the city he pointed out such few buildings as were of interest. Roger knew that it was far from old, as capitals go, and he found little to admire in it, apart from one broad modern boulevard called the Prado—which had been constructed by the Conde d’Aranda—and the situation of the city, with the snow-capped peaks of the Sierra de Guadarrama outlined against a blue sky in the distance to the northward.
Aranjuez had been selected as the site of a royal residence from its very pleasant surroundings, as it lies in the middle of a fertile plain where the river Jarama joins the upper Tagus, and the country round about forms the principle market-garden for Madrid. The little town was the most modern in Spain, as it had been built to a definite plan only forty years earlier, and the Palace was a large late-Renaissance building erected twenty-five years before the town.
As they arrived before three o’clock they found the whole place deserted, for the midday siesta was not yet over; but by the time the servants they had brought with them had opened up the villa, the same types of cloaked, sombrero-hatted men, and gaily shawled, mantillaed women as Roger had seen in Madrid, began to appear in the streets.
All through his long journey across Portugal and Spain he had been harassed by a double anxiety about Isabella. She had been due to have her baby in the latter part of March, and it was now April 10th. Yet he still did not know if all had gone well with her, and she had come safely through the ordeal. Then, if she had, there was still the awful thought that during the past fortnight her husband might have poisoned her. In consequence, now that he was at last within an ace of obtaining news that would either still or confirm his fears, he could hardly contain his impatience to get to the Palace.
Mr. Merry had declared that five o’clock was the earliest hour at which a noble Spaniard could possibly be expected to do business, so at a few minutes to the hour their carriage carried them down a fine avenue and through the formal gardens with which the Palace was surrounded to the wing of it which was occupied by the Prime Minister.
In due course they were received by one of the gentlemen who assisted Count Florida Blanca in the transaction of foreign business: the Caballero Heredia. It transpired that the Caballero had served for some time in the Spanish Embassy in Paris, so he spoke fluent French. He made Roger gravely welcome, examined his credentials and assured him blandly that the Prime Minister would be most happy to grant him an audience at an early date. He added that he hoped that in the meantime Roger would avail himself of the amenities of the Palace, and that the next day being Sunday there was a Court, at which no doubt he could arrange to be presented.
Having thanked him, Roger said: “It is my misfortune, Señor Caballero, to have few Spanish friends, but while in Naples I made the acquaintance of a charming couple, the Conde and Condesa Sidonia y Ulloa; and they are, I think, now in Spain. I wonder if you can tell me anything of them?”
“Why, yes,” replied the Caballero, with a smile. “I knew the Condesa when she lived at the Court of France, before her marriage; and I am happy to be able to give you good news of her. She presented her husband with an heir some three weeks back, and they arrived here to pay their court to Their Majesties only two days ago. No doubt you will see your friends tomorrow night.”
Enormously relieved, Roger said how pleased he would be to see them again; then, after some further polite conversation with the Caballero Heredia, the two Englishmen withdrew.
Relieved as Roger was he found the next twenty-four hours dragged interminably. For a while he occupied himself with an evening walk round Aranjuez with Mr. Merry, but there was nothing to see there except the people. There were few women in the streets; they sat in the deep embrasures of open ground-floor windows which were raised some feet above the street level. Every window was heavily barred; in the better houses with an elaborate iron scrollwork that bellied outward in a graceful curve. The men lounged in the street outside. The smarter of them were most colourfully clad, with bright sashes round their waists and scarves round their necks, tight trousers, short jackets and little black hats with pom-poms, beneath which their dark hair was caught up in a net. Many of them carried guitars, and strummed upon them as they softly serenaded their favourite señoritas.
As the season of the Sunday bull-fights did not begin till May, Roger whiled away most of the day as best he could, thinking over what he would say to Count Florida Blanca when he obtained an audience. The mission he had been given was, he felt, his great chance; but it was no easy one, for if the Spaniards attempted to procrastinate, as they almost certainly would, he had strict instructions to stand no nonsense from them. So peace or war hung by a thread, and his triumph would be all the greater if he could maintain the high tone required by Mr. Pitt and yet prevent war breaking out.
At last it was time to go to the Palace; and at six o’clock he was ushered with Mr. Merry into a vast reception-room on its first floor. There were already some hundred ladies and gentlemen present and Roger knew that the same formality would be gone through as he had witnessed at Versailles. When the whole Court was assembled the approach of Their Majesties would be announced, the company would form into a human lane, and the Sovereigns would slowly pass down it. In this case, however, Mr. Merry having been to see the Grand Chamberlain earlier in the day, that functionary would attract the Monarchs’ attention to them, and he would be given the opportunity to present his new colleague.
But Roger had no thought for his coming presentation; he was swiftly scanning the crowd for Isabella. After a moment he caught sight of Don Diego, and then of Isabella beside him. With a murmured apology to Mr. Merry, he quickly made his way towards the couple.
At sight of him Isabella’s tanned face paled, but she covered her confusion by dropping him a low curtsy in response to his bow. Don Diego also recognised him at once and greeted him very civilly. Roger said that he had heard of their happy event and was delighted to congratulate them upon it; then they began to talk of their mutual friends in Naples.
After a few moments another gentleman claimed Don Diego’s attention, so Roger was able to move a little apart with Isabella. “My love,” she breathed. “My love, I can hardly believe it true that it is really you I see.”
“Or I, that I am with you again, my own,” he whispered, as he took in all the detail of the thin, fine, dark-browed face that had caused him such an agony of love those last days in Naples.
They were standing opposite the main doorway and some distance from it. People were still arriving and at that moment a couple entered. The man was in his sixties, of medium height, and with a thinnish, clever face. The woman was in her early twenties. She had dark hair, black eyes, a faultless complexion, a determined chin and a full, red mouth. Her figure was well rounded for her height and in perfect proportion; her beauty was so dazzling that she eclipsed every other woman in the room.
Isabella touched Roger on the arm, and her whisper came almost in a hiss. “Look! That is the English woman to marry whom my husband plans to poison me!”
Roger’s only reply was a gasp. The superbly beautiful creature, round whom a court of bowing men had instantly gathered, was the woman he counted dearer than any other in the world—Georgina Etheredge.