Chapter 22 Scaramouche The Kingmaker by Rafael Sabatini
BRIBERY
"Will you tell me," André-Louis begged de Batz, "who, in the name of Heaven, are these Freys, whom the unspeakable Chabot has dragged so abruptly upon the scene, and by whose opinions he sets such store?"
He sat once more under the limes, alone now with de Batz, at the table still littered with the remains of the banquet spread for the departed guests.
De Batz tapped his snuff-box and supplied the information.
"The brothers Frey were a pair of Austrian or Polish Jews, bankers by trade, who had come to establish themselves in Paris under a pretence of ardent republicanism, no doubt in the hope of enriching themselves out of the general disorder. It was a proof of courage. Their change of name is a part of their pretence. The rest: the honours and the millions sacrificed, the confidence of the Emperor, and the like, were just so many spurious trappings. They haunted the clubs, particularly the Jacobins, and also the Convention. They have known how to make friends among the members of the Convention, and Lebrun, the Minister for Foreign Affairs, was known to protect these scoundrels."
De Batz further informed him that with them lodged a fellow named Proly, who, to the Baron's knowledge, was a spy in the pay of Austria. This, at least, was definite enough for André-Louis. "That should enable us to absorb these Freys. It becomes necessary since they influence Chabot."
On the morrow he dragged the Baron back to Paris and the Rue de Ménars, despite the Baron's reluctance to return just yet.
Within two hours of their arrival, this reluctance seemed more than justified by a visit from the Municipal Burlandeux, who had evidently kept the house under observation.
The burly officer swept aside Biret-Tissot, who opened the door to him, announced truculently that he would be put off by no lies, and swaggered insolently into the Baron's presence. He did not even trouble to remove the great cocked hat that covered him.
"So, my cockerel, you've come back to your roost, eh? I've a notion that the president of the Section will be glad to see you, and will have a question or two to ask you."
De Batz contained himself almost with difficulty. "And the subject, if you please?"
The municipal laughed coarsely. "Oh, ho! You play the innocent. You have no suspicion, of course. You'll have no recollection of having been at the Temple some nights ago."
De Batz shook his head. "I have not."
"And you never heard of an attempt to rescue the woman Antoinette from her prison, I suppose?"
The Baron took time to answer, regarding him steadily the while. "Now I know you for an impostor. It has been established by the Committee of Public Safety that no such attempt was made, and certainly the president of your Section never sent you to me on any errand concerned with that."
"Ah! Very sure of yourself, are you not, Citizen Aristocrat? If you were to step round to the headquarters of the Section with me, we might persuade you that we are not so easily fooled, we other sansculottes."
"Unless you quit my premises immediately, you may find me stepping round to the Section on a very different errand, my friend. Come now. Be off! I've no time to waste on you or your kind."
"My kind!" The municipal's voice shrilled up in anger. "My kind! Why, you damned aristocrat, what kind is mine? I'll tell you, name of a name! It's the kind that sends your kind to the national barber. I know enough about you to bring your head into the basket. You can show off your airs and graces to Charlot when I've done with you."
The door opened behind him. André-Louis, attracted by that storming voice, stepped quietly into the room. The municipal wheeled sharply at the sound. André-Louis' face was solemn.
"That was an ill-omened name you mentioned, citizen. It is not well to speak so familiarly of the executioner of Paris. It is unlucky, my good Burlandeux."
"So it is. So it will be—for both of you, by God!"
"An idle oath. The Convention has abolished God. But why must you persecute us, who have done you no harm, and might do you much good?"
"Good? You do me good! I should like to see the good that you can do me."
André-Louis preserved his gentleness. "Should you not account it good to receive a hundred louis?"
Insult was arrested on the sansculotte's coarse lips. They parted in astonishment. He stared a moment.
"A hundred louis!" Then he resumed with an increase of fury. "Ah, that! Now I understand! You want to bribe me. You think a true patriot is to be seduced by bribes. But not for two hundred louis would I be false to my sacred duty."
"Let us say three hundred, then."
Burlandeux stood paralysed.
André-Louis became insinuating. "Oh, and not as a bribe. We know how idle it is to seek to corrupt a true sansculotte such as yourself, Burlandeux. It is just a little gift, a little earnest of our appreciation of your friendship, a proof, indeed, of the republican honesty of our own sentiments, which should set all your doubts at rest."
"Fine words!" said Burlandeux hoarsely. "Fine words. But for what, then, do you pay me, name of...?"
"We do not pay you. Let me explain. The Citizen Batz and I are financiers, engaged in operations which you would hardly understand. Arrests and the like upon suspicions, however unfounded, are embarrassing to us. Whilst they cannot harm us further, since we are really good patriots, yet they destroy our credit and hamper us in several ways. To avoid interference it is proper that we should share with patriots of established character some portion of the profits we look to make. To you, Citizen Burlandeux, as I have said, we are prepared to entrust three hundred louis for distribution as you think fit. No doubt you will be able to do much good with it."
Burlandeux looked from one to the other of them. André-Louis smiled ingratiatingly. The Baron was impassive. He scarcely approved; yet he allowed André-Louis to have his way. The municipal did not reply immediately. His big chin sunk into his unclean neck-cloth, he considered rather than combated the temptation. He perceived that these aristocrats or foreign agents, or whatever they might be, could be turned into milk-cows for his profit. When he had drained these rascals, bled them white, it would still be time to do his duty by the nation and fling them to the headsman. Thus, with a conscience at ease, and with some profanity, he assented.
De Batz, still reluctant, took at André-Louis' request a bundle of assignats from the drawer of a cabinet in that daintily-appointed room, and counted off the sum agreed.
Burlandeux's eyes gleamed. As he pocketed them, he laughed.
"This is indeed a proof of patriotism, citizens. Count Burlandeux your friend. And the friendship of Burlandeux—name of God!—is a stout buckler in these uneasy days."
Not until he had gone did the Baron utter a word of remonstrance.
"What purpose is there in this waste?"
"Waste? You didn't give him good ones, did you?"
"Of course not. But even so I don't distribute false assignats quite so freely. We shall never now be rid of that scoundrel."
"So he reckons?" André-Louis smiled. "Wait here until I return. I will not keep you long."
He sought his hat, and departed without further explanations. He walked briskly by way of the Feuillants and the Tuileries Gardens to the Pavilion de Flore. Here he was informed that the Committee of Public Safety was not sitting, but that the secretary of the committee was in his office. André-Louis desired to be conducted to him.
The Citizen Sénard, one of the most valuable agents in the pay of de Batz, was already acquainted with André-Louis.
A slight, sallow man, with a sharp face under a thatch of thick hair prematurely grey which at a little distance had the appearance of being powdered, he frowned darkly upon his visitor.
"Ah, morbleu! But this is infernally imprudent!" he muttered under his breath.
André-Louis smiled. "Do not be alarmed, Sénard." He laid his agent's card upon the table for the secretary's inspection.
"What's this?" Sénard inspected the card in astonishment. "Is it some of Roussel's handiwork?"
"Oh, come now. Are we so clumsy as to commit forgeries that could so easily be detected? You should know those signatures: Amar, Caillieux, Sevestre. Besides, your register will show that it was issued by this office."
Sénard scrutinized the card and returned it. His frown had deepened. "But, then...I don't understand."
"My dear Sénard, have you never before known a man to act in two capacities?" He stared straight and significantly at the secretary who was himself in the pay of both sides.
"I see. Which is to say, I am in the dark. In what capacity do you appear at present?"
"But as the agent of the committee, of course. I have a duty to perform. A denunciation to make. A municipal officer, attached to the Lepelletier Section, Burlandeux by name, is engaged in corrupt practices. I have allowed him to believe me to be the agent of some foreign power, and he has accepted from me a bribe to hold his tongue."
"This will require proof," said Sénard.
"It has been provided. Half an hour ago I paid this scoundrel three hundred louis in assignats. If your agents act quickly they may still find the money in his pocket. His station in life would not permit the honest possession of such a sum. Let him explain to the committee how he comes by it."
Slowly Sénard nodded. "Set the denunciation down in writing, citizen, and I will give instant orders."
An hour later the Municipal Burlandeux between two National Guards faced the president of his Section to explain his possession of three hundred louis. The wretched man, perceiving in how simple a gin he had been caught, raved and stormed, but said no word that did not further incriminate him. He listened to a moving address from the president upon civic virtue, the importance of purity in public functionaries, and the hideousness of venality which merited nothing less than death. Upon that he was marched off to Bicêtre, there to await his trial, with the assurance that the guillotine would follow. The bundle of assignats was forwarded to Sénard, and by the Committee of Public Safety returned to its agent André-Louis Moreau with a warm commendation of his skill in unmasking a scoundrel who abused the office with which the Nation had entrusted him.
"Do you still think that Burlandeux will further trouble us?" André-Louis asked De Batz.
De Batz, looking at him, shook his head. "There are times, André, when you almost frighten me."
"That is not my aim. It is for you to put me in the way of frightening others."
That evening they set about the business of frightening the brothers Frey.