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.