_ PART I. THE THORN IN THE LAND OF ROSES
CHAPTER XXIX. THE WHISPER OF THE SPHINX
"La politique, premiere des sciences inexactes."
--
Emile Augier. Jacqueline had divined in Bazaine another obstacle to her mission. And yet it seemed preposterous that he should not be her staunchest ally, since Napoleon had found a marshal's baton for him in his knapsack, just as he had transformed his own policeman's club into a sceptre. Nevertheless Jacqueline had her doubts, and they were homage to her sex. In other words, she returned to Mexico to find that His Excellency had married again.
The very day after her arrival she called to see her dear friend, now Madame la Marechale. The two women were hardly more than girls, but who shall fathom the depth of their guile? They kissed each other affectionately on the cheek, and while the marshal was in the other room, reading the packet Jacqueline had brought him from Napoleon, they expressed earnestly their joy at meeting again.
When Bazaine returned, madame rose to leave them to their "stupid state affairs." The marshal smiled, knowing how ravenous was his bride for the same stupid affairs of state, but Jacqueline agreed that indeed they were wearisome. Of course she might tell His Excellency much about Paris, but as to politics--and her little shrug bespoke a Sahara of ignorance.
In the packet delivered by Jacqueline, the Sphinx had by no means turned oracle, and Bazaine wished to know what his crafty master would have said between the lines. But the first topic of their conference was Driscoll.
"Your prisoner is incommunicado then?" said she.
"Have no fears, he is comfortable, here in this very house?"
"He has sent no word to Maximilian of his arrival?"
"Not as yet, mademoiselle."
"And why not, pray?"
"Because I anticipated the honor of seeing you before permitting him so much. I must know the campaign better. A plain soldier is dense at guessing, mademoiselle, while you--you have talked with Napoleon. If----"
"Oh, don't be tedious. You alone hold the knight that means royalty triumphant or checkmated, and you know that you do."
"But you who are inspired, tell me how I shall play."
"You forget that I left this man to be shot?"
"Then I am to destroy him?"
Jacqueline shuddered. "That was my only way, but you, monsieur, you can lift him off the board entirely."
Bazaine rose from his chair and stood before her. "I am no poet," he said, "and these flowers of speech hide the trenches. My American means that I may have thousands more like him, and he is a good one to be multiplied even tenfold. Mademoiselle,
what am I to understand?"
"Does Napoleon's letter satisfy none of your doubts?"
Without a word he handed her the packet. It was from Napoleon's minister of finance, and it exuded woe. The French loans were exhausted by Maximilian's luxury and mismanagement, and therefore Bazaine was instructed not to advance a cent further. He was, moreover, to take charge of the Mexican ports, and administer the customs. Here, then, was the annihilation of Maximilian's sway. Here was the whispering of the Sphinx. France herself would take over the Empire.
"Hardly," returned the marshal, "but we will frighten His Majesty into bettering his finances," and he handed her a confidential missive that had accompanied the other. Bazaine was therein authorized, when the security of the Mexican Empire absolutely demanded it, to advance ten millions of francs.
Jacqueline sank back disheartened. Not even Napoleon would help her. The Sphinx had not the courage of his own designs, and she contemptuously flung him out of her way. She would strive alone, and against him, Napoleon, among the rest. First of all, there was his captain general, the man before her.
"Monsieur le Marechal," she began, as impersonally as though quoting a dry paragraph of history, "there is a party among the Mexicans who fear the republicans and what the Republic would do. Yet their hope for the Empire is gone, and they want no more of it. These, monsieur, are the moderate liberals, and strange to say, they are the clericals too; in a word, the great landowners. They are for what is good in Mexico. They demand order. But they would not take it from the United States. They look to France--to France, which is Catholic, and liberal."
"I know," said the marshal. "They have already hinted at annexation."
"Annexation to France, of course. Now then, monsieur, if we stay at all, we shall have to fight the United States. But do you imagine that we would undertake such a fight for Maximilian? Parbleu, the French people would mob Napoleon over night. But, supposing we were to do it for ourselves, and not for an impecunious archduke----"
His Excellency's eyes blazed. "Ah, it would be a fight superb!"
"And you commanding, Monsieur le Marechal. And behind you, with our own pantalons rouges, those Confederates against their old enemies.
Then would be the moment to set your knight on the chess board. And," she added insidiously, "France would need a viceroy over here."
The plain soldier started as though shot.
"Mademoiselle," he gasped, "you--
you are Napoleon! The
great Napoleon, I salute you, mademoiselle!"
"Helas, monsieur, that I am not in a position to credit Napoleon III. with what I have said!"
"Yet you wish me to believe that you are only inspired by him? Pardon me, mademoiselle, but
he is the inspired one, and--mon Dieu, I do not blame him!"
"But it's very simple," said Jacqueline, "and honorable too. Maximilian's bad faith nullifies our treaty with him. Tres bien, we are free, free to withdraw our troops. At least we may threaten as much. Then he will, he must abdicate, unless--well, unless he first sees Your Excellency's prisoner."
She arose, feeling that she was leaving a good Frenchman behind her. But Madame la Marechale appeared to bid her adieu, and Madame la Marechale looked sharply from one to another, noting especially Bazaine's flush of enthusiasm. The good Frenchman straightway became uneasy. And Jacqueline, riding back to Chapultepec in her carriage with its coronet and arms and footmen, did not know that Driscoll had not been incommunicado against Madame la Marechale. Who could be? And Madame la Marechale betimes had paid her respects to a third woman, who also was but little more than a girl. She and the Empress Charlotte had discussed both the prisoner and Jacqueline. _