Lord Tanlay turned to the First Consul. "Of course you know," said he, "that the Emperor of Russia is mad."
"Is it that letter that makes you think so, my lord?" asked Bonaparte.
"No; but it confirms my opinion."
"It was a madman who gave Henry VI. of Lancaster the crown of Saint-Louis, and the blazon of England still bears--until I scratch them out with my sword--the fleur-de-lis of France."
Sir John smiled; his national pride revolted at this assumption in the conqueror of the Pyramids.
"But," said Bonaparte, "that is not the question to-day; everything in its own time."
"Yes," murmured Sir John, "we are too near Aboukir."
"Oh, I shall never defeat you at sea," said Bonaparte; "it would take fifty years to make France a maritime nation; but over there," and he motioned with his hand to the East, "at the present moment, I repeat, that the question is not war but peace. I must have peace to accomplish my dream, and, above all, peace with England. You see, I play aboveboard; I am strong enough to speak frankly. If the day ever comes when a diplomatist tells the truth, he will be the first diplomatist in the world; for no one will believe him, and he will attain, unopposed, his ends."
"Then I am to tell my uncle that you desire peace."
"At the same time letting him know that I do not fear war. If I can't ally myself with King George, I can, as you see, do so with the Emperor Paul; but Russia has not reached that point of civilization that I desire in an ally."
"A tool is sometimes more useful than an ally."
"Yes; but, as you said, the Emperor is mad, and it is better to disarm than to arm a madman. I tell you that two nations like France and England ought to be inseparable friends or relentless enemies; friends, they are the poles of the world, balancing its movements with perfect equilibrium; enemies, one must destroy the other and become the world's sole axis."
"But suppose Lord Grenville, not doubting your genius, still doubts your power; if he holds the opinion of our poet Coleridge, that our island needs no rampart, no bulwark, other than the raucous murmur of the ocean, what shall I tell him?"
"Unroll the map of the world, Bourrienne," said Bonaparte.
Bourrienne unrolled a map; Bonaparte stepped over to it.
"Do you see those two rivers?" said he, pointing to the Volga and the Danube. "That's the road to India," he added.
"I thought Egypt was, general," said Sir John.
"So did I for a time; or, rather, I took it because I had no other. But the Czar opens this one; your government can force me to take it. Do you follow me?"
"Yes; citizen; go on."
"Well, if England forces me to fight her, if I am obliged to accept this alliance with Catherine's successor, this is what I shall do: I shall embark forty thousand Russians on the Volga; I shall send them down the river to Astrakhan; they will cross the Caspian and await me at Asterabad."
Sir John bowed in sign of deep attention. Bonaparte continued: "I shall embark forty thousand Frenchmen on the Danube."
"Excuse me, citizen First Consul, but the Danube is an Austrian river."
"I shall have taken Vienna."
Sir John stared at Bonaparte.
"I shall have taken Vienna," continued the latter. "I shall then embark forty thousand Frenchmen on the Danube; I find Russian vessels at its mouth ready to transport them to Taganrog; I march them by land along the course of the Don to Pratisbianskaa, whence they move to Tzaritsin; there they descend the Volga in the same vessels that have transported the forty thousand Russians to Asterabad; fifteen days later I have eighty thousand men in western Persia. From Asterabad, these united corps will march to the Indus; Persia, the enemy of England, is our natural ally."
"Yes; but once in the Punjab, the Persian alliance will do you no good; and an army of eighty thousand men cannot drag its provisions along with it."
"You forget one thing," said Bonaparte, as if the expedition were already under way, "I have left bankers at Teheran and Caboul. Now, remember what happened nine years ago in Lord Cornwallis' war with Tippo Sab. The commander-in-chief fell short of provisions, and a simple captain--I forget his name."
"Captain Malcolm," said Lord Tanlay.
"That's it!" cried Bonaparte. "You know the story! Captain Malcolm had recourse to the Brinjaries, those Bohemians of India, who cover the whole Hindostan peninsula with their encampments, and control the grain supplies. Well, those Bohemians are faithful to the last penny to those who pay them; they will feed me."
"You must cross the Indus."
"What of that!" exclaimed Bonaparte, "I have a hundred and eighty miles of bank between Dera-Ismael-Khan and Attok to choose from. I know the Indus as well as I do the Seine. It is a slow current flowing about three miles an hour; its medium depth is, I should say, at the point I mentioned, from twelve to fifteen feet, and there are ten or more fords on the line of my operations."
"Then your line is already traced out?" asked Sir John smiling.
"Yes, in so far as it follows a broad uninterrupted stretch of fertile, well-watered provinces; that I avoid the sandy deserts which separate the lower valley of the Indus from Rajputana; and also that I follow the general bases of all invasions of India that have had any success, from Mahmoud of Ghazni, in the year 1000, to Nadir Shah, in 1739. And how many have taken the route I mean to take between the two epochs! Let us count them. After Mahmoud of Ghazni came Mohammed Ghori, in 1184, with one hundred and twenty thousand men; after him, Timur Tang, or Timur the Lame, whom we call Tamerlane, with sixty thousand men; after Tamerlane, Babar; after Babar, Humajan, and how many more I can't remember. Why, India is there for whoever will go and take it!"
"You forget, citizen First Consul, that all the conquerors you have named had only the aboriginal populations to deal with, whereas you have the English. We hold India--"
"With from twenty to twenty-two thousand men."
"And a hundred thousand Sepoys."
"I have counted them all, and I regard England and India, the one with the respect, the other with the contempt, they merit. Wherever I meet European infantry, I prepare a second, a third, and if necessary, a fourth line of reserves, believing that the first three might give way before the British bayonets; but wherever I find the Sepoys, I need only the postilion's whip to scatter the rabble. Have you any other questions to put to me, my lord?"
"One, citizen First Consul: are you sincerely desirous of peace?"
"Here is the letter in which I ask it of your king, my lord, and it is to be quite sure that it reaches his Britannic Majesty that I ask Lord Grenville's nephew to be my messenger."
"It shall be done as you desire, citizen; and were I the uncle, instead of the nephew, I should promise more."
"When can you start?"
"In an hour I shall be gone."
"You have no wish to express to me before leaving?"
"None. In any case, if I have any, I leave my affairs to my friend, Roland."
"Shake hands with me, my lord; it will be a good omen, as you represent England and I France."
Sir John accepted the honor done him by Bonaparte, with the exact measure of cordiality that indicated both his sympathy for France, and his mental reserves for the honor of his own nation.
Then, having pressed Roland's hand with fraternal effusion, he bowed again to the First Consul and went out. Bonaparte followed him reflectively with his eyes; then he said suddenly: "Roland, I not only consent to your sister's marriage with Lord Tanlay, but I wish it. Do you understand? _I wish it_."
He laid such emphasis upon those three words, that to any one who knew him they signified plainly, not "I wish," but "I will."
The tyranny was sweet to Roland, and he accepted it with grateful thanks.