Marianne and The Masked Prince

'Surcouf!' she breathed. 'Baron Surcouf!'

'The pirate?' Madame Hamelin could scarcely contain her excitement. 'That fellow built like a battleship?'

'Yes, and now I know who it was the girl was watching for. Look!'

Gwen had slipped out from the shelter of her pillar and was about to pass the entrance to the Grand Vefour, dragging her feet suddenly, like a woman in the last stages of exhaustion.

'What is she going to do?' Fortunee whispered. 'Is she going to try and accost him?'

Marianne frowned. 'She is up to no good, that's for sure. Morvan hates Surcouf even more than he hates the Emperor. I wonder —' She broke off. 'Come on, quickly.'

She had a sudden fear that the girl might be concealing a weapon underneath her pelisse but no, as she came up with the king of the corsairs, she stopped and seemed to stagger. Then, putting one trembling hand up to her head, she swayed and fell in a little heap upon the ground.

Surcouf, seeing a young woman fainting at his feet, naturally sprang forward to aid her. He had his arms round her to raise her and Marianne, springing forward at the same instant, arrived in time to hear the Bretonne murmur faintly: 'It is nothing – for pity's sake, sir, help me to the carriage… close at hand. I shall be… cared for.'

As she spoke she moved her hand a little, wearily, warding off the other persons who had drawn near. But Marianne knew now what she planned. Surcouf would require no assistance to carry this slip of a girl as far as the carriage where, no doubt, there would be men lying in wait for him. He would be whisked into the vehicle in a trice and neatly carried off. A valuable hostage against the release of the wrecker – supposing the bargain was ever kept. Moreover, Marianne was sure that Fanchon Fleur-de-Lis and her associates had a hand in the affair. She did not hesitate for an instant.

Stepping up to Surcouf, who was already lifting the pretended invalid in his arms, she laid her gloved hand on his sleeve and said crisply: 'Do not touch the woman, Baron, she is no more faint than you or I. Above all, do not go near that carriage.'

Surcouf looked in astonishment at the veiled woman who had made this remarkable statement, laying Gwen down again as he did so. The girl gave an angry exclamation. 'Who are you, madame?' Surcouf asked.

Marianne swiftly pushed back her veil. 'Someone who stands greatly in your debt and who is glad to have been by in time to prevent your kidnapping.'

The sight of her face called forth two exclamations, one glad, the other furious.

'Mademoiselle Marianne!' cried the pirate.

'You!' spat the Bretonne. 'Must you always interfere?'

'Such is not my intention,' Marianne said coldly. 'If you behaved yourself like anyone else it would not be necessary.'

'Well, you were wrong! Anyone can be taken ill —'

'And be well again just as quickly! My appearance has cured you fast enough.'

A crowd was already beginning to gather, attracted by the sound of the two women's angry voices. Seeing that she had failed in her mission, the Bretonne shrugged and would have slipped away but Surcouf's large, brown hand was laid heavily on her shoulder, preventing her.

'Not so fast, my pretty. You don't run away from this quarrel. You have been accused, now defend yourself.'

'I have nothing to explain.'

'I think you have.' Fortunee's lilting tones came to them as she made her way through the crowd with two men at her heels. 'These gentlemen are most anxious to hear what you have to say.'

Black coats buttoned to the chin, battered felt hats, stout shoes and truncheons, all proclaimed that the new arrivals were policemen. The crowd parted and drew back to make way for them and the two men ranged themselves with practised ease on each side of Gwen, who began to struggle like fury.

'I have done nothing! Let me go! What right have you to arrest me?'

'We are arresting you for the attempted kidnapping of the Baron Surcouf. Come along now, young woman, you can explain yourself to the judge.'

'You have no right to accuse me without proof! This is not justice —'

'In the absence of proof we're holding your two accomplices: the men in the black chaise. This lady,' the policeman indicated Madame Hamelin, 'warned us in time. Two of our colleagues are dealing with them now, so come along quietly.'

Strong hands dragged the Breton girl away, kicking and screaming like a mad thing. Once, before she was out of sight, she turned and spat at Marianne.

'We'll meet again and I shall pay you out for this, you little bitch!'

When the policemen had gone the crowd surged back again, surrounding Surcouf with a buzz of admiration. Everyone wanted to shake the famous sailor by the hand. He endeavoured to extricate himself with an unfeigned shyness, shook a few hands and finally succeeded in leading Marianne to the terrace of the Cafe de la Rotonde which jutted out into the gardens.

'Come and eat an ice with me and let us renew our acquaintance. After so much excitement, you must be in need of refreshment, and your friend also.'

When they were seated under the circular glass dome and Surcouf had given the order, his twinkling blue eyes moved from Marianne to Fortunee, who was displaying all her exotic plumage for his benefit, but returned always to Marianne.

'I was wondering, you know, what had become of you. I wrote to you several times, through Fouche, but I had no answer.'

'I did not remain with the Duke of Otranto,' Marianne said, attacking a vanilla sorbet with gusto, 'but he might have put himself to the trouble of forwarding your letters.'

'That is rather what I think. I was going to call on him before I go back to Brittany.'

'What? Do you go so soon?'

'I must. I came only on business and now that I have seen you all is well. I can leave with a quiet mind. Do you know, you are looking magnificent?'

His admiring gaze took in the fashionable toilette, lingering on the gold and jewels adorning her wrists, and Marianne felt herself grow hot with embarrassment. How could she tell him what had happened to her? Her liaison with the Emperor was so fantastic, so wholly unexpected that it must be hard for a man as simple and direct as the corsair to understand it. It was Fortunee who guessed her friend's dilemma and hastened to explain.

'But my dear Baron, you are looking at the queen of Paris.'

'What's this? Not that I would deny your right to have a kingdom at your feet, but —'

'You wonder how it came about so quickly? Marianne, let me tell you, is no more. Allow me to present to you the Signorina Maria Stella.'

'You? But all Paris is talking of nothing but your beauty and your talent. Then you are the Emperor's —' He broke off and the great, leonine face flushed suddenly under its tan. An identical flush mounted Marianne's cheeks. He was embarrassed by what he had nearly said, she by his abrupt and obvious silence. She knew that, short as his stay in Paris had been, Surcouf was familiar with the current gossip and was now well aware that he was talking to Napoleon's mistress, and it seemed to her that he did not relish the thought. His blue eyes, so oddly reminiscent of Jason Beaufort's, had darkened. There was a short, pregnant pause. Even Fortunee seemed unwilling to break into it with her inconsequential chatter but had turned her attention instead to the consumption of her chocolate ice. In the end, it was Marianne who was the first to speak.

'You disapprove of me, don't you?'

'No… I am only afraid for your happiness — if you love him. And there can be no doubt of that, I think.'

'Why do you say that?'

'Because there are some things a woman like you will not do without love. I can only add that he is a lucky man. I hope he realizes it.'

'I am luckier. But why do you think I may not be happy?'

'Because you are who you are, and because you love him. His marriage must have been painful for you.'