brow suggested a temper of mingled gentleness and austerity. It was a face that Marianne knew already from having seen it often in the house of Talleyrand: the Canoness de Chastenay, an aristocratic and intellectual lady who, it was said, had once entertained a certain partiality for the young General Bonaparte.
At Marianne's entry, she stopped her feverish pacing and regarded the newcomer in some surprise before uttering a joyful cry and hurrying to meet her with hands outstretched.
'Dear Muse of Song – oh, forgive me, dear Princess, I should say, what a joy and comfort to find you here!'
It was Marianne's turn to be surprised. How could Madame de Chastenay have known of the change that had occurred in her station. The Canoness gave a nervous little laugh and drew the younger woman over to a sofa guarded by a pair of forbidding bronze victories.
'But no one in Paris talks of anything else but your romantic marriage! That and the unfortunate Duke of Otranto's fall from grace are almost the only topics of conversation. Did you know that he is not to be governor of Rome after all? It seems the Emperor is perfectly furious with him on account of his making a bonfire of all the secret files and papers belonging to his ministry. He has been exiled, really exiled! It scarcely seems possible! But – where was I?'
'You were saying, madame, that people are talking about my marriage,' Marianne murmured, stunned by this flow of words.
'Ah, yes. Oh, it is quite extraordinary! You know, my dear, you are a real little slyboots! Hiding one of the greatest names in France like that! So romantic! Although, you must know, I was never really taken in. I guessed long ago that you were truly of noble birth and when we heard the truth —'
'But from whom did you hear it?' Marianne asked quietly.
The Canoness paused for a moment and appeared to reflect, then she was off again, more volubly than ever.
'How was it, now? Ah, yes – the Grand Duchess of Tuscany wrote to the Emperor about it as though it were something altogether remarkable! And so deeply moving! The beautiful young singer consenting to marry an unfortunate so dreadfully deformed that he could never bear to show himself in public! And, to crown it all, the great artiste then reveals that she is of noble race! My dear, I should think your story must be all over Europe by now.'
'But – the Emperor? What did the Emperor say?' Marianne persisted, feeling both bewildered and alarmed to discover so much talk about a marriage which she had believed secret. The court of Tuscany must be a hive of gossip indeed for the ripples of gossip started there to have spread so far and so fast.
'Goodness, I hardly know,' the Canoness answered. 'All I know is that his Majesty mentioned it to Monsieur de Talleyrand and roasted the poor Prince most unkindly for making the Marquis d'Asselnat's own daughter reader to the erstwhile Madame Grand.'
That was very like Napoleon. He must have been furiously angry at the marriage and had chosen to take out his wrath on Talleyrand. By way of changing the subject, Marianne asked: 'But what brings you here, madame, at this late hour?'
Instantly, Madame de Chastenay's sophisticated playfulness left her and she began to look as agitated as she had when Marianne had first entered.
'Oh, don't speak of it! I am still quite distracted! There I was in the Beauvaisis, with friends who have such an enchanting estate there and who – well, this very morning along comes a great lout of a gendarme to say that the Duke of Rovigo commands my presence instantly. And the worst of it is that I have not the least idea why, or what I could have done! I left my poor friends in the utmost anxiety and passed a terrible journey wondering all the time why I had been, not to put too fine a point on it, arrested. I was so wretched that I went first to call on Councillor Real to ask him what he thought and he urged me to come here without delay. Any delay, he said, could have the most serious consequences! Oh, my dear, I am in such a state – and I dare swear that you are just the same—'
No, not quite the same. Marianne forced herself to maintain an icy calm. She had her own reasons for thinking that the order concerning her came from a higher source, although she would never have believed that Napoleon would go so far as to have her arrested for daring to marry without his consent. However, there was no time to disclose her own fears to her companion. The majestic usher reappeared to inform Madame de Chastenay that the minister was ready to receive her.
'Oh God!' the Canoness exclaimed. 'What will become of me? Say a little prayer for me, my dear Princess.'
The mauve taffeta dress vanished into the Minister's office, leaving Marianne alone. The room was extremely warm, for the windows were hermetically sealed. For coolness's sake, Marianne unfastened the full dust-coat which she had been wearing over her light gown of green silk, and untied the satin ribbons of her hat. She felt tired, sticky and dirty, certainly in no condition to confront a Minister of Police, and she would have given anything for a bath. But when would the opportunity to bathe be hers again? Would she even be allowed to go home? What was she to be accused of? It was like the Emperor to deal harshly with those against whom he had reason for anger, and remembering the stormy scenes which had already taken place between them, Marianne could not help but feel anxious.
The door opened again.
'If madame will follow me.'
The usher had reappeared and was holding open the door of a large, well-appointed office that was a far cry from Fouche's. Within, seated at a mahogany table decked with roses placed directly underneath a huge, full- length portrait of the Emperor, a good-looking man with dark hair and velvety eyes was working, or pretending to work, on a large file. His air of lofty complacency and invincible self-satisfaction was of the kind that always grated on Marianne, and the fact that he had not so much as looked up at her entrance only increased her irritation. If this were a piece of calculated rudeness, it hardly augured well for her; all the same, Marianne decided it was time to remind him of the respect due, if not to her person, at least to her rank and the name she bore. Besides, she was past caring.
Advancing coolly into the big room, she walked across and seated herself in a chair facing the desk. She spoke very smoothly.
'Pray, do not disturb yourself on my account, but when you can spare a moment, sir, perhaps you will be good enough to inform me to what I owe the honour of this summons?'
Savary let fall his pen with a start of surprise which, genuine or not, at least did credit to his histrionic talents.
'Great heavens! My dear Princess! I had not realized —'
'So it would seem.'
He leaped up from his chair and coming round the desk took the hand which she had not held out to him and carried it devoutly to his lips.
'Allow me to express my sincerest apologies – and also my delight that you have returned to Paris at last. You cannot imagine how eagerly you have been awaited.'
'I think I can imagine it very well,' Marianne said wryly. 'If, that is, I am to judge by the manner in which your men pounced on my coach at the Fontainebleau guard post. But now, let us have no more beating about the bush, if you please. I acquit you of the social formalities. I have travelled a long way and I am very tired, so tell me quickly where I am to be imprisoned and, incidentally, why.'
Savary's eyes widened and this time Marianne could have sworn that his surprise was not assumed.
'Imprisoned? You? But, my dear Princess, why should you be? It really is most strange, no one this evening seems able to talk of anything else. Only a moment ago, Madame de Chastenay —'
'—was also ready to swear that you were going to send her there. Good heavens, what can you expect, if you will have people arrested?'
'But neither of you have been arrested. I merely indicated to my people that when you returned to Paris I should very much like to see you, and the same with the Canoness de Chastenay. You see, when my predecessor left this house he made what I can only call a clean sweep of all the files and documents. The result is that I know no one.'
'A clean sweep?' Marianne said, beginning to be amused. 'You mean that he…'
'Everything! He burnt everything!' Savary said pathetically. 'In my innocence, I trusted him. He offered to
