Читать книгу Nightcap and Plume - Bowen Marjorie - Страница 7

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M. de Vergennes, having made clear his position—all possible help to the revolt without compromising France, listened frankly to the men sent to him by the King; he admitted that they were likely to be very useful for this kind of work, that they were able, discontented, fearless, intelligent, discreet. Baron Jakob Sprengtporten was, the Frenchman acknowledged, more than this, his was a stern and masterful personality, intolerant of everyone but himself, impatient of the faults in others, his brother, Baron Goran was of the same type, but more cautious, there was indeed a look of iron about both of them, lean and hard featured, they wore their Dragoon uniforms with an air at once careless and martial. The elder had been in the army since his twelfth year. The Frenchman soon discovered their motives in the reckless move they were prepared to make, a cold passion for daring adventure, a bitterness against the politicians who had tried, by underhand ways, to ruin their estates in Finland, an intense interest in the gamble for its own sake and an eager lust for the reward. They never smiled, seemed ill tempered and were brusque of manner, besides them Count Karl Scheffer, the Lord Chamberlain showed as the affable, shrewd courtier, but it was to Johan Toll, in his plain civilian attire, his meagre appointments, that the Frenchman gave his secret attention, here was a man who did not disdain courtesy, who had the gifts of strength, of comeliness, of tact, who had no bitterness or malice, who had not bargained for a reward. M. de Vergennes admired the manner in which he, a penurious adventurer who had failed in both the army and the law, had discovered, then forced himself into this most hazardous intrigue; to look at this magnificent man, so serene and amiable, gave M. de Vergennes a sense of confidence that he knew was not justified—nothing could be more imprudent than this proposed coup d'état.

"It is astonishing," he remarked, "that neither England nor Russia have discovered your designs, gentleman."

Baron Jakob Sprengtporten named the British ambassador. "Sir John Goodrich has had an inkling from his secret agents, he has warned M. Osterman and some of the leaders of the Riksdag. They refused to believe him," haughtily the Finn added. "You can guess why—they think us extremely unimportant, they hope to break us by fraud among our tenants. They are not afraid of us."

"And the King?" asked the Frenchman.

"The King they do not regard at all," replied Baron Jakob gloomily. "He is popular, yes, he is admired, yes, but it is the popularity, the admiration accorded to—say—an amiable idler."

Count Scheffer made as if to protest, the other, supported by Baron Goran bore him down sternly. "Are we not here to speak the truth, our lives are on this—the very existence of our families."

"We shall come to the problem of His Majesty later," said the Frenchman with the assurance of his years, his experience and the knowledge that these men depended on him for money; they did not know how little he could command, and however pinched his resources, theirs were even more mean.

They had gathered in the particular cabinet reached from the reception room of the French Embassy; a small casement showed a square of clear sky, the five men sat almost uncomfortably close together in the small space, they whispered and the door was bolted on the inside.

"Enlighten me as to the position in Sweden," asked M. de Vergennes. "I have studied what I could during a troublesome journey but you, gentlemen, will find me ignorant of much I should know."

Count Scheffer as the eldest of the conspirators, bowed and referred to Johan Toll. "As a lawyer he can put the matter clearly."

Toll began to speak, without demur, he knew, as did his colleagues, that the Frenchman was perfectly well aware of the state of affairs not only in Sweden but in all Europe, that he was playing for time, making them talk while he observed them with pitiless and insistent shrewdness; Count Scheffer was inscrutable, the Sprengtporten brothers as impatient as they dared to be, while Toll spoke.

"Karl XII cost us dear, only the exertions of Baron Gortz enabled Sweden to afford his victories, and then it was turnips and leather money. You know how he died, shot at Frederikshall, you can see his blood stained coat in the Riddarsholm Church—perhaps the bullet came from a Swede, so weary were we of war."

"You speak without reverence!" cried Baron Jakob hotly.

"Yes—as is needful." Toll's calm face was unchanged, he addressed himself to the polite attention behind which the Frenchman concealed his scrutiny of these improbable conspirators.

"When Karl XII's sister seized the throne and had the folly to behead Gortz, the country was in chaos, ruined by twenty campaigns—we had fame, that of Swedish arms and that of having produced an almost fabulous hero—little else—our elected Queen retired after three years, leaving her husband, Frederik of Hesse, to govern a kingdom that had been for a generation at war—a King Log! but we had an honest and a talented man in Count Arvid Horn, he gave us a peace, year by year for the war—twenty years, but he grew old, his party termed the Nightcaps in contempt, was ousted by the military caste, the Hats—they threw out Horn, declared war on our old enemy Russia and lost, disastrously. We had our truce by adopting the Tzarina's nominee, the Prince Bishop of Holstein—grandfather of the present Majesty."

"If I recall aright the connection with the Vasa line is remote?" asked M. de Vergennes, referring blandly to the black moire notebook he held.

Toll replied without expression.

"The Prince Bishop—Frederik I's grandfather's grandmother was a sister of the great Gustaf Vasa."

"But," added Count Scheffer quickly. "You must not touch on that to the King, he will be pure Swede, and pure Vasa."

"So," smiled the Frenchman, "the grandson of Russia's puppet, and the son of the sister of the Prussian enemy plays the Swedish patriot, it is ironical."

"He had an excellent education," urged Count Scheffer. "The most brilliant men in the country taught him liberal ideals, he has a natural turn for the heroic."

"—for the theatre," put in the Frenchman smoothly.

"—for the virtues of the Vasa line," insisted Count Scheffer. "M. Toll, pray continue."

"How can I clarify the present anarchy in our crazy constitution? The two parties, Hats—for war—Caps for peace—speaking roughly, are forever striving together and intriguers of which the foremost is Baron Pechlin run from one to another as their profit suits—in brief, Russia, Denmark and England rule the Riksdag by corruption and the country becomes ruined and bankrupt while these men fill their coffers."

"The late King endured this very well," commented M. de Vergennes, "even with a spirited Queen."

"He saw the friends who had risen in his behalf, tortured and beheaded in '69," said Toll. "He was a weak man, who suffered many humiliations."

"You gamble on his present Majesty," replied the Frenchman.

"We gamble," said Baron Jakob decidedly.

"No need to ask you what you confront?" asked M. de Vergennes.

The Finnish brothers showed a well curbed annoyance at this delay. "We know—the Tzarina is a worthy successor to Peter the Great, she spent forty-thousand rix dollars to win the last elections—she keeps a well equipped fleet in the Baltic," said Baron Goran keenly. "Denmark is on the frontiers, imbecile though her King may be, his brother-in-law Prince Karl of Hesse is an able general and keeps an eye on us, England is astute and wealthy."

"And France a wavering ally," smiled M. de Vergennes. "I must know more of your internal affairs—Who really rules? Who can be trusted?"

"The lawyer takes the word," said Count Scheffer and Toll spoke again:

"An oligarchy of nobles rule—the poorest, the proudest, perhaps the most corrupt in the world. And no one is to be trusted save the few who are in this plot."'

Toll bowed towards the two aristocrats, he was himself of the ofralse class.

"Who does the King favour, Cap or Hat?" asked M. de Vergennes.

"He has tried to mediate between them, uselessly, of course, so now this plot."

The Frenchman fluttered the pages of his notebook, to him the only tolerable form of government was an absolute monarchy, and this rule by parliament seemed to him ridiculous; despite his cleverness and shrewdness he was so prejudiced that he did not perceive that his own country was in as perilous a condition as was Sweden, and that the rule of the Bourbons was unstable as it was splendid.

"Our ideal is," said Toll coolly, "that power shall rest with the people—four estates, nobles, clergy, burghers, peasants."

"With the nobility exempt from taxes and alone having the right to high offices of state," remarked M. de Vergennes approvingly.

"Yet many of them are so poor they cannot afford to come to Stockholm to take their seats in the Riddarhuset and so sell their votes to proxies," smiled Toll. "The peasants are excluded from the Senate, Diet or Secret Committee, that really governs, buy that and you have bought Sweden."

"Some idealist without experience has framed this Constitution," sighed M. de Vergennes. "I perceive the confusion that has inevitably arisen from such a dispersal of power, undoubtedly, gentlemen, you are truly patriotic to endeavour to overthrow this sad state of affairs."

He did not speak encouragingly and the four men looked at him with a hint of suspicion—had he not been sent especially to assist the King? France had been paying subsidies to Sweden since '38 when the Hats had reversed the policy of the Caps and challenged Russia, Ulrica Lovisa had thrown in her fortunes with France even though she was the wife of the Tzarina's nominee, and the present King's visit to Paris had been to strengthen this alliance—was the Bourbon bankrupt or false—now at the keen moment of peril?

"I know what you think, gentlemen," said M. de Vergennes. "That I hesitate. Yes, I do. I did not come to Stockholm expecting to find a revolution preparing, but I am much in sympathy with your design," he turned sharply to Toll, who had much impressed him; he was an expert in humanity and liked to deal with new material. "You ask why I do hesitate?"

"No," said Toll. "It is because of the character of the King."

The Frenchman smiled, pleased by this precision, the Chamberlain made some shift to put up a courtier's defence of his master, but the Sprengtporten brothers nodded gloomily and the elder remarked:

"We do not hesitate, but we feel that our weakness is the character of the King."