The Ravishing of Lady Mary Ware by Dennis Wheatley

named Frederick von Schill, had left Berlin at the head of his regiment of Hussars, crossed the Elbe and carried insurrection into Hesse and Westphalia. He had twice defeated French troops sent against him, capturing prisoners, guns and the fortress of Domitz. Several months had passed before his luck had given out and he had been killed. The Duke of Brunswick had been even more successful. With a corps of volunteers raised in Bohemia, he had invaded Saxony, occupied Dresden and driven off the Westphalian troops commanded by their King, Napoleon’s brother Jerome. He had then fought his way right across Germany to the mouth of the Weser and there embarked his men on British ships. He was now commanding them under Wellington in Spain, where they were known as ‘The King’s German Legion’.
    Bourrienne predicted even more serious mutinies to come, and probably a rising
en masse
of the people, who were becoming agitated to fever pitch by the anti-French propaganda of von Stein.
    They were still sitting over some fine brandy when a footman came in and told the Minister that General Jomini had called for a document. Bourrienne had him shown in and, as he entered the room, cried, ‘Welcome,
mon cher General
, welcome! You must join us in a glass of brandy. You know de Breuc, of course.’
    Jomini was a Swiss. By his writings on military matters he had earned the reputation of a sound strategist. Roger had met him a year or so before, when he had been Chief of Staff to Marshal Soult. Having shaken hands, they sat down together while their host went along to his cabinet to fetch the document. When he returned, he handed it to the General and said:
    â€˜It has just occurred to me that, as you are going to Berlin, de Breuc might accompany you. He has despatches for Davout, and would be on his way there now had I not persuaded him to stay here for the night.’
    The General bowed to Roger. ‘It would be a pleasure. I should be most happy to have your companionship, and you would find travelling in my coach as fast as and less fatiguing than going by horse.’
    Had Roger not called on Bourrienne and disappeared overnight, there would have been no hue and cry after him; but if he did so now, in the morning his host would think that he had left the Palace on some private business and had become the victim of an accident, so the police would be ordered to find him. That left no alternative but to accept Jomini’s offer, which he did with no great inward annoyance, as he could easily get back to Hamburg within three or four days.
    Accordingly they set off together at six o’clock the next morning, slept the following night in the coach and completed their one-hundred-and-sixty-mile journey in eighteen hours without incident.
    At the French Embassy they were given an early breakfast and Roger learned that Davout, although staying there, had spent the night at Potsdam, in order to attend a review being held that morning by King Frederick William. Jomini went about his business and, an hour later, Roger presented himself to the French Ambassador, M. de Brinevillers.
    Roger had not met him before, but knew that he was a
ci-devant
Marquis, who had been a diplomat under the old Monarchy. It was to that, and Napoleon’s policy of taking into his service noble, returned exiles, that he owed his appointment. He was a tall, gaunt man with a supercilious air and irritable manner. Roger gained the impression that, like so many of his kind, while ready enough to accept benefits from the Emperor, he despised the new regime and particularly disliked Napoleon’s habit of frequently sending soldiers on diplomatic missions.
    Their conversation was brief. Afterwards the Ambassador had a footman show Roger up to a bedroom where he could freshen himself up, and stay the night if he wished. Roger then went for a stroll round the city, returning at midday. In the early afternoon Davout drove up, escorted by a guard