THE EMPEROR'S DOUBLE'

Star (Christchurch), Issue 9273, 27 June 1908, Page 2

THE EMPEROR'S DOUBLE'

(By ALEXANDER LTGILL.) [All Eights Reserved.} 'Twas towards the hour of eleven on a night of June in the year ittl4, and three men walked swiftly down one of the many low streets of Calais; three men with slouching gait, muffled almost to their eyes, their hats pulled well over their faces. Their long, lean shadows oast on the cobbled streets seemed strangely grotesque and fantastical as they strode on through dark alleys, speaking not a word until at length they reached a miserable hovel wherein burnt a solitary light that threw its feeble rays through the one dirt-encrusted window. Three knocks did one of the trio give on the door with his knuckles, and, almost as he struck, a dark figure, muffled as themselves,, joined them, and on entrance being given accompanied them within the house of the solitary light. Some three hours later the door was again opened, and a man stepped quickly yet silently into the street, and glanced from end to end, and side to side. But the place was deserted, and, save for himself and a lonely bat that fluttered almost into his face, there was not a sign of life. With scarce another look to right or left, the stranger proceeded on his way and was soon lost amid the darkness. In a room, poring over documents and parchments of diverse- description, and surrounded by the Marshals of France, sat a figure in a long grey coat ; a figure with lank black hair plastered in a curl on the forehead, and eyes glittering with an intensity of purpose. No need to ask "Who is thatP* All men knew, and had learnt to fear the very name of Napoleon Bonaparte. The door opened, and an orderly entered. With an almost imperceptible movement the Emperor glanced up. "Well?" he said sharply. " M. Sebastien Martout seeks audience with your Majesty/ " Ha ! 'tis welL Bid M. Martout enter." With a salute the orderly retired, and a minute later Sebastien Martout was in the presence of his master. Napoleon gave him no heed, but proceeded to sign the various documents that Murat placed before him. Then he throw down the pen and "turned in hia chair. "Well, Martout; what newsP" "'Tie as I suspected, your Majesty; I there is a plot on foot in Calais to kidr ', nap you. Last night I gained admittance to a meeting in the Rue D'Anjou, where all details were discussed and finally arranged. The conspirators rely on the fact that youT Mp'psty contemplates a survey of the fortifications by the cliffs to-night. There will be a small boat beneath the shadow of the rocks and a schooner anchored a mile out. The scoundrels will overpower your Majesty and row off to the schooner, which will then set sail for — heaven knows where. That is the plot In brief, your Majesty." Martout paused and looked round at the ring of startled faces. He it was whom they called the "Emperor's Double," and truly the likeness was little short of extraordinary. The thin lips, the hawk-like eye, the curl on the forehead, aye, even the mannerisms were exactly similar to those of Napoleon, so that apart there was no distinguishing the difference between master and man. There was silence for a few seconds, and then it was the Emperor who broke the spelL "And what da you propose doing, good friend P" He liad a way of addressing his inferiors that compelled them to draw nearer to him, as children unto their i father. " Scourge of Europe " he may have been, but Napoleon Bom parte loved his soidiws, alboio , not unselfishly. He loved them for tho . benefit no gained bj so doing; theirs <

was a whole-hearted, fidlf-sacT&ftoiag adoration. "There is only one course poEsfble, year Majesty," answered Martout, slowly. " And that is?" "Your Majesty must not review the fortifications to-night." " That is out of the question Have I not said that I will go ; and wno shall say that the Emperor feared a band of low-minded canaille?" "But, your Majesty," protested Ney anxiously, "that would be madness — utter madness. Think of the consequences. Without you at their head the soldiers will lose heart; think of that before you act so rashly." " Am I to be dictated to by my uervantsP" asked Napoleon harshly. "Is it for that that I am Emperor P" " Be it farthest from my thought to dictate to your Majesty," replied Ney, flushing at the scathing words. "I would merely advise — us a servant." "There, there, Ney, I was hasty; forgive me. But go to the cliffs t<>night I will ; neither God nor the devil shall stop me." " But man may," retorted Ney drily, i " Your Majesty, I have a suggestion to make," It was Martout who spoke. "I have the honour to be somewhat like your Majesty in appearance, and I would suggest that I should be on the cliffs to-night, while you travel by a different route. The conspirators will surely mistake me for their prey and not before it is too late will they discover their error." " But I would have them caught recV handed," objected Napoleon. "It can be done. The crew of the sohooner are merely hired for the occasion and are well paid beyond a doubt. The prime movers in the affair will tell them that Napoleon Bonaparte is a prisoner." " And the signal ; what is thatP" " The showing of three red lights at the masthead." "Hal 'tis well planned for a truth, To you. M. le Comte, I owe my liberty and that of France." Napoleon had a decidedly pleasing way of conferring titles, and almost overwhelmed by the honour thus bestowed upon him, Martout fell on one knee and kissed the Emperor's hand. " You are a good fellow, Sebastien," said Bonapai to, smiling slightly, " but now we must consider how best to circumvent these low-bred doga of the gutter." With bis thin lips set in a straight line, the Emperor paced the room. Suddenly he stopped in. his perambula- ! tion. "I have it!" he cried. "Listen. To-night, you, Comte, will take my place on the cliffs, while I with a dozen of my guards will keep well in the background. The scamps will be too ■absorbed in*gazing out to sea, waiting for the thfpe lights, to pay much heed to what is occurring in their rear. On the signal making its appearance I shall confront them. It will be a startling denouement, I imagine, but," as if with a sudden thought, "who are these men that contemplate this very pleasant adventure. Are they Frenchmen?" this to Martout. " No, your Majesty, they are : the lowest type that England breeds. No, thank God, they are not Frenchmen I" " Huh ! I had a mind that the English were above such contemptible work." There was a wealth of scorn in Napoleon's voice. "I had r a somewhat better opinion of my Lord Wellington." "This. is not the work of the Duke, your Majesty; 'tis the plot of thes* men alone, they think to obtain a heavy ransom from / France in return for her Emperor; but their blade of cunning has been turned against themselves." " Say, rather, that you have turned it against them," smiled Bonaparte, ** and now, messieurs. I bid you adieu." A delicate way of dismissing his courtiers, truly. . • . i. * The night fell, and with it cam© the storm that had been deferred all day, and the foam-tipped wives, even as the mighty forces of the tallies, seemed intent on breaking down the defences of France. Thunder, the artillery of heaven, crashed out from time to time, and the lightning playing on the face of the waters rendered the scene on the cliffs of Calais awe-inspiring by its very omnipotence and grandeur. In a flash, more vivid than as yet, the figure of a man, with cocked hat and long grey coat, was seen standing as though gazing towards the shores of Britainfover the turbulent sea from whence came Wellington and bis mighty hosts. A peasant, had there been one passing would have drawn in his breath and* muttered within himself, "Napoleon I" But he would have been mistaken; 'twas not Napoleon. Sebastien Martout was the name of the man silently watching on the cliff ; or rather, Sebastien, Comte de Martout; nor was the "Emperor's Double" gazing at the shores of England. No; he was trying to distinguish in the fitful light the shadowy outline of a schooner that lay anchored in the Channel. At length, as if tiring of his vigil, Martout paced up and down the cliffs, now and then pausing to listen intently, but all sounds, if any there were, the roaring of the elements drowned. Then it was that under th© shelteT of the storm three stealthy figures crept along the oliff , and with a combined and sudden rush hurled themselves on Sebastien Mit-rtout, who fell with scarce a struggle; it was not part of his game to expose his face more than was necessary ; remote though the ohance wae thai the deception would be discovered, he took no risks. One of the trio gave a low whistle, and then carrying tho apparently lifeless body between them they made their way down the side of the cliffs to where a small dinghy lay in wait, and with never a word they placed Martout i within it, and stood on the beach and saw the boat row off to the outlying schooner., faintly distinguishable by her hull lights, , . The three men slowly retraced tnerr steps up the cliffs, and then stared out to sea and waited — for what? The answer was soon forthcoming. From out of tho darknos there gleamed three red lights I There was a simultaneous cry or satisfaction from the conspirators. "To-night sees the close of a page in the life of Napoleon and a chapter in the history of the world," said one slowly, as though the full significance of the three red lights was just dawning on his mindThey turned, only to be confronted by a 'grim figure that-, to their cost, they knew only too well. With blanched faces they stared at the seeming apparition, speechless with an undeterminable fear. Then as the lightning illumined the face of the unknown did but one ory come from their parched throats. "Napoleon, by God!" And then the darkness oloeed la upon them. Fifteen months later Sebastien Martout returned to France, having been sailing the Pacific throughout that time, knowing no tidings of bis country and the Emperor. 'Twos then he learned of the crashing of Napoleon's might and the banishing of the great leader to St Helena. And thither did he also go, to spend the last days of his life witn the man who, but for Waterloo/ would have been Emperor of the World. Adieu, Sebastian 1