Fabre is limited, he complains, he makes me waste my time. But his company is never exacting, and the minister is used to him, and he is always there when he’s wanted.
This morning the minister was thoughtful, chin on fist. “Fabre, have you ever planned a robbery?”
Fabre darted at him a look of alarm.
“No,” Danton said good-humoredly, “I know petty criminality is a pastime of yours. We’ll come to that later. No, I need your help, because I want to steal the Crown Jewels. Yes, do sit down.”
“Perhaps, Danton, a word of explanation?”
“You’re entitled to that—but I want no ifs or buts. Use your imagination. I do. Now, consider the Duke of Brunswick.”
“Brunswick—”
“Spare me your Jacobin diatribe—I’ve heard it. The truth is that Brunswick, as a man, is not wholly unsympathetic to us. The July manifesto wasn’t his—the Austrians and the Prussians made him sign it. Think about him. He’s an intelligent man. He’s a forward-looking man. He has no tears to waste on the Bourbons. He is also a very rich man. He is a great soldier. But to the allies he is—what? A mercenary.”
“What does he aspire to be?”
“Brunswick knows as well as I do that France isn’t ready for republican government. The people may not want Louis or his brothers, but they want a King, because Kings are what they understand, and sooner or later the nation will fall to a King, or to a dictator who will make himself King. Ask Robespierre, if you don’t think I’m right. Now there might have been circumstances in which—having established a constitution—we were scouring Europe for some reasonably regal old buffer to come and uphold it. Brunswick would perhaps word it differently—but there is no doubt that he wished to play that role.”
“Robespierre alleged this.” (And you, Fabre thought, pretended not to believe it.) “But then in July, with the manifesto—”
“Brunswick wrecked his chances. We use him as a swear word. Why did the allies make him put his name on their manifesto? Because they need him. They wanted to make him hated here, so that his personal ambitions were quashed, and he was secured to their service.”
“They succeeded. So what about it?”
“The situation’s not—irretrievable. You see, I’ve considered whether Brunswick might be bought off. I’ve asked General Dumouriez to open negotiations.”
Fabre drew in his breath. “You’re reckless with our lives. We’re in Dumouriez’s hands now.”
“That’s possible, but that’s not the issue. The issue is the result for France, not the unfinished business between me and the general. Because … it appears that Brunswick can be bought off.”
“Well, he’s human, isn’t he? He isn’t Robespierre, or even the Virtuous Roland, as the newspapers call the Minister of the Interior.”
“Don’t banter,” Danton said. Suddenly he grinned. “I take your point. We do have a few saints on our side. Well, when they’re dead, the French will be able to march into battle with their relics for protection. In lieu of cannon, of which we are rather short.”
“What does Brunswick want? How much?”
“His requirements are specific. He wants diamonds. Did you know he collects them? We know, don’t we, what lust diamonds can inspire? We have the example, dear to our hearts, of the woman Capet.”
“But I can hardly believe—”
Danton cut him off with a gesture. “We steal the Crown Jewels. We convey to Brunswick the stones he especially covets, and we allow the others to be recovered. For use on future occasions.”
“Can the thing be done?”
Danton scowled. “Do you think I’d have got so deep in, if it couldn’t? The theft itself would pose very few problems, for professionals, if they have a bit of help from us. A few slipups on the security side. A few blunders with the investigation.”
“But all that—the security of the jewels, the investigation—all that would come under Roland’s jurisdiction.”
“The Virtuous Roland will fall in with our scheme. After he’s been told a certain amount about it, after he’s implicated, he won’t be able to betray us without betraying himself. I will bring him to that point, I will make sure he has the knowledge he doesn’t want to have—you can leave that to me. But in fact, what he knows will be very little—we’ll wrap the affair up so that he has to guess who is involved and who isn’t. If things get difficult, we’ll stick him with the blame. After all, as you say, his department is responsible.”
“But he’d simply say, Danton originated this—”
“If he lived long enough.”
Fabre stared. “You are a different man, Danton.”
“No, Fabre, I am a filthy patriot, as I always have been. What I am buying from Brunswick is one battle, one battle for our poor underfed barefoot soldiers. Is that wrong?”
“The means …”
“The means I will set out to you, and I have no time to waste discussing ends. I want no cant about justification. The justification is the saving of the country.”
“For what?” Fabre looked stupefied. “Saving it for what?”
Danton’s face darkened. “If this day fortnight an Austrian soldier takes you by the throat and says, ‘Do you want to live?’ will you say, ‘For what?’”
