The Academie (19 page)
Authors: Susanne Dunlap
“Yes, sir!” Another salute, which I return, and then I walk to the door of the house where my fate awaits me.
Valmont and I keep pace with each another, although his strides are much longer than mine. We are almost at the front of the columns of soldiers, when suddenly a sergeant I cannot see cries,
“Avant!”
I feel everyone around me step forward like a single creature, musket barrels like trees pointing into the misty air. I glance around me to see if I can tell where Hortense has gone, but I cannot find her.
The rifle is so heavy it makes my arm shake. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to hold it like this, and then I will be certain to give away that I am not as I appear. I don’t want to look weak in front of Armand, who—for a painter—makes a very convincing soldier.
I catch quick glimpses of the men’s faces. They are all concentrating on what is happening ahead. There is no
mirth, no softness in them. They would have little sympathy for a young girl who is on a silly adventure just for the sake of chasing after a young man who probably thinks no more of her than a pet dog.
I struggle not to let the sudden realization that I am on a fool’s errand overwhelm me, but focus on finding Caroline again.
“There she is!” Armand whispers. I feel his breath on my cheek and follow his gaze. She is right at the front, near the door to the gatehouse. How did she manage it?
“How will we reach her?”
“Stay right next to me,” he says. I confess, I’m glad he’s here. With Caroline and Hortense off on their own, I’m not sure how I would manage.
Staying as close to Armand as I can, I begin to march as if it is my duty. To my surprise, the men seem to sense us coming and step aside so we may pass.
Soon we are nearly level with Caroline, but just as we start to move toward her she darts into a passage between the two buildings: the smaller one, the gatehouse, where she said the directors are being held, and the main château, where the Council of Five Hundred wait, all unsuspecting that something dramatic is about to happen.
I start to follow Caroline, but Armand puts his hand on my arm to stop me. “Best to leave her to it,” he says. “I think we might be able to see something this way.”
The door of the gatehouse opens, and I see a tight-knit
group of men in uniforms covered in braid and ribbons marching around the side from the front. It is the generals, being led by Napoléon. He is noticeably short among the other men. I watch as one by one the leaders of the French army enter the building. I see Louis and Lucien with Napoléon, as well as Caroline’s Murat. Where has she gone?
“Hmmph!”
I say.
“What?” Valmont says.
“Oh, nothing. I just noticed Murat.”
“Caroline’s beloved,” he says, surprising me. I wonder how he knows. But of course, he and Hortense spoke for quite a long time at the cotillion. Perhaps she gave him a lot of information.
We have gradually moved forward, pushed by the press of men behind who want to see what is happening. Armand nudges us into a better position to get a glimpse through the door.
At first, all I can see is the backs of the generals and their aides-de-camp, still clustered inside the gatehouse. I wonder why I have not seen Eugène, who would surely be by Napoléon’s side. A sentry stands with his musket stock resting on the ground, looking straight out over the heads of the massed army.
“Now just follow me,” Armand says.
Before I can ask what he is doing, he steps smartly forward to the door. I do as he does, summoning all my courage.
“Halt!” the sentry says. “Only the generals and their ADCs are permitted within.”
We stop. What now? I hold my breath, wondering if Armand will say anything.
He salutes in a crisp gesture. They must teach them at school, I think. “I have an important message for Lieutenant de Beauharnais,” Armand says.
The sentry looks us up and down. “You won’t find him in here! He’s gone off in that direction.” He points away from everything.
This time we both salute, and step a little back.
“Now what?” I ask, trying to speak without moving my lips. Why on earth did he ask for Eugène? Perhaps Hortense told him something else.
Armand doesn’t respond, and there is an uncomfortable pause while we stand where we are.
The sentry continues to glare at us. “Please rejoin the ranks, soldiers,” he says.
I am about to turn away, assuming Armand will do the same, but something happens inside and all attention is suddenly focused there.
I feel Armand’s hand on my arm again, and he pulls me past the distracted sentry. We slip into the room, standing with our rifles as straight and tall as we can, trying to blend into the walls.
For the moment, no one is paying attention to us. Armand is so close I can hear him breathing. The generals
and the five directors stand in the center, facing each other. I recognize Barras and Sieyès from Malmaison, but not the others.
“What right! What right, I say, do you have to impose your rule upon the French people, who democratically chose a directorate and a council as their form of government?” It is one of the men I do not recognize. His reedy voice trembles. Hardly surprising, since he is unarmed and facing the bold Napoléon and his generals with their swords at their sides.
“When a government has effectively become inoperable,” Barras replies, “steps must be taken. Bonaparte has the hearts of the people behind him. With the three of us as equal governors, we can at last undertake the necessary reforms and bring France back to glory. Surely you must realize this is essential, Ducos!”
“A consulate? You propose a consulate?” The man I now know is Ducos darts his gaze from one person to another. “Let us see what the Council of Five Hundred has to say!”
With that, Ducos strides toward a door that I think will lead to the main château, followed by all the others. I gasp as a soldier throws the door open. There is Caroline, where she must have been hiding all along. We see each other, but she does not signal to me.
Without thinking, I follow the general movement through a passageway, heedless of whether Armand is with me, trying to catch up to Caroline without drawing attention
to myself. I notice that Murat has not come with the generals, though, but quietly steps out into the courtyard, where the army waits.
Soon we are in a vast hall where the Five Hundred are gathered. Barras strides to the front and addresses them. I glance behind. There is no sign of Armand.
“The Directoire has agreed upon the establishment of a consulate, consisting of myself, Sieyès, and Bonaparte,” Barras says.
He can’t say anything more because the roar of anger that greets him drowns out every voice. The council and their guards surge forward. All at once, Napoléon is surrounded!
I see Lucien draw his sword, but not before one of the council’s guards raises his and lunges toward Napoléon. He is wounded! Caroline screams, but no one pays her any notice. I try to rush over to her, but the crush of people prevents me, and only then I realize that Murat has returned, with the soldiers from the courtyard behind him.
Will I be caught in a battle? If only Armand had not been left behind! It occurs to me in that moment that he would protect me.
And then, suddenly, it is over.
The council—all businessmen and tailors, merchants and doctors—is too frightened to press their advantage against Bonaparte’s army.
I start to breathe again, realizing that I have not been doing so for some time. Dots of light dance before my eyes. Where is Caroline?
I see her moving through the crowd. She is heading toward Murat.
Everyone else is clustered around Napoléon, ushering him out another door.
Murat alone remains. Caroline approaches him. He doesn’t notice her, probably assuming she is nothing more than a common soldier. Caroline reaches out to touch him.
“Good God! What the devil are you doing here?” I hear him all the way to where I stand, and start to back out, hoping he won’t notice me.
Murat grabs Caroline’s elbow and steers her away from the center of things. I can no longer hear them, but I see that they are talking and gesticulating at each other.
I’m not sure what I expected Caroline to do, but to my horror she rises up on her tiptoes, puts her arms around Murat’s neck, and kisses him. At first he staggers a little backward; then he wraps one arm around Caroline, practically lifting her off her feet with the force of his embrace.
Suddenly I hear laughter. I look to the side and realize that several soldiers have turned their attention away from the departing council and are watching Caroline and Murat.
What must they think!
Caroline looks around, confused. Then I see her realize what’s happened, and before I have time to register what she
is doing, she takes off her hat and let her dark hair tumble over her shoulder.
Now I know I must get away, instantly. But before I turn and run headlong out of the door, I see Armand appear from nowhere, running toward Caroline and Murat.
I back into the courtyard, where most of the army still stands, wondering what will happen next.
Once outside, I stride without really looking where I am going and am suddenly confronted with a soldier standing directly in front of me who looks very familiar.
It is Eugène. I realize that he was not with the generals, not even inside the buildings. I see him put his hand up to shade his eyes, or perhaps just to focus them out over the troops. He calls out, his voice sailing into the muted atmosphere like a clarion call.
“I need a courier! Someone to carry an urgent message!”
Before I have a moment to doubt the wisdom of my actions, I answer, “Here, sir! I will take the message!” I march forward to Eugène, wondering if he will recognize me.
Eugène’s face has lost all trace of softness and kindness, and he drills me with his eyes, his teeth gritted. He holds out a folded piece of paper to me. I grasp it, but he does not
let go. “This is a confidential assignment, soldier. I must tell you the address in private.”
He doesn’t know who I am!
He leads me around the corner of a building, where we are out of sight of the others, who in any case are still concentrating on what is happening inside the château.
Eugène removes his cockaded hat and expels a long breath. His expression changes, as if he has removed a mask. “Look, good fellow, I’m in a bit of a bind here. This business is going to take all day, and I have an important appointment—”
Something about the way he is speaking makes me decide I had better interrupt him, let him know who I am. I fear a confidence that I won’t want to keep. “Eugène,” I say, making no attempt to disguise my voice and touching the sleeve of his blue jacket.
He stops, his lips parted, brow creased, and peers at me. “What the ...?”
I can feel myself going crimson with embarrassment. “I’m sorry. It’s a long story, it’s—”
“Mademoiselle Monroe? What is the meaning of this subterfuge?”
For a moment I hesitate. I was Eliza to him two days ago. I suddenly feel very small, very stupid. I don’t know how much to tell him, or even whether any of it matters. “We—that is, Caroline, Hortense, and I—”
“My sister? Is she here?” He grips my shoulders hard. He is angry.
“Please! It was Caroline’s idea.”
“Sacré coeur!”
Eugène mutters. “Well, I suppose you had better tell me what this is about. But quickly! I’m expected back at any moment.”
I recount our adventure in as few words as I can muster, barely pausing for breath.
“Where are they now?”
“Caroline went forward, to try to get inside so she could see what was happening. Hortense... I’m afraid I don’t know. She was waiting at the back. And—” I am about to mention Valmont, but something stops me.
Eugène looks up at nothing in particular, tapping the almost forgotten note against his gloved palm. “What will happen to you, do you suppose, if this ruse is discovered?” he asks.
I hadn’t really thought about the possibility that we would be found out, only trusting that Caroline and Hortense wouldn’t let me come to any harm. “I suppose... I will be expelled from school and sent home to Virginia.”
“Would you like that to happen?”
I want to say,
And never see you again? Never watch how gracefully you move and see the depths in your eyes?
But I can see that Eugène does not think of me as an object of love. At least, not yet, not now. “No, I would much rather stay here.” I cannot meet his gaze. Shame over being so foolish suddenly overwhelms me.
“Then you must do as I say. Take this note—” He hands it to me, letting me keep it this time. “Take this message to Mademoiselle Madeleine de Pourtant, at the Comédie Française, and make sure you tell her it comes with my most sincere compliments.”
Madeleine de Pourtant. The Comédie Française. Who else could it be? I am to take a secret message to his mistress. To the woman Joséphine objects to so strongly, the cause of much family strife at Malmaison. What if she finds out? After all I witnessed the other day, I have no doubt that Joséphine could be a more formidable enemy than Napoléon himself, if she chooses to be. Yet how can I say no to Eugène?
“All right,” I say. “But how shall I get there?”
“You can ride, I presume?” Now he smiles.
I return the smile. “Ever since I was a tiny tot.”
“Let’s go find you a horse.”
He marches off and I follow in the direction of the palace stables.
The stable boy is sweeping bits of straw around, clearly avoiding other work. If he’d been one of our slaves I would have told Papa. Most slave owners would have him whipped, but Papa is too kind, Mama says.
“A horse for the soldier, and be quick about it!” Eugène commands.
“There’s only the old gelding left,” the boy says. “The other soldier took the mare.”
Eugène and I exchange a glance, and in that moment we both suspect who the “other soldier” was. But there isn’t time to consider why Hortense would have taken a horse.