Jacob's ladder

After those few words, Charles refused to speak and fell into worried meditations. As a last resort, the boy decided to play his only trump:

“He has come to get the amulet.”

Charles gave him all his attention immediately.

“What do you know about the amulet?”

“I heard you speaking to Don José Gutiérrez in the chapel.”

Luis told briefly the circumstances in which he had listened to their conversation. Charles heard him to the end with a somber face, hesitated for an instant and said:

“Go to bed. We’ll speak again tomorrow.”

“I want to speak today!”

“It’s late.”

“I’m not a child!”

Charles observed him in silence.

“No, you aren’t, but I need to think. I’ve tried not to drag you into this, but José was right, you are involved, whether I like it or not.”

“I’m not afraid of danger.”

“You know nothing about it.”

“Yes, I do. You’ve got an amulet which belonged to Bonaparte. He knows, and has sent the French soldier to recover it. You are in danger. Shouldn’t I know whatever else there is?”

“Not now. I’ve told you, I need to think. Things are happening too fast. I thought we were safe.” Then he added in a softer voice: “I’m sorry. I only want to protect you. One day, I’ll tell you everything. Leave me alone, please.”

Surrendering to fate, Luis went to bed, although he did not expect to sleep, he was very nervous. However, he was young and tired, and slept the whole night.

From March 3rd to 7th, Charles refused to speak. He only told Luis the name of the French dragon officer: major Gérard, an old acquaintance, who had been Napoleon’s aide-de-camp. Luis had to hide most of the time, for the Frenchman came to see Charles twice every day and his tutor did not want the boy to be seen. Luis was very worried, but Charles was keeping his head and secretly preparing their departure.

Fortunately the weather was mostly fine, for Luis had to pass a long time walking around. When it was raining or bitingly cold, he sought refuge in the university, where he felt utterly at home. Many of the professors, his tutor’s pals, had known him since his childhood. He had always linked his future with the university, where some day he expected to study arts or letters. Now that future had become uncertain and dark. In a week at most, they must leave Salamanca. Charles obviously thought he was a danger for the boy, probably because of the secret. Whenever he left the university, he looked at its famous façade, fearing it would be the last time that he would see it. He said good day to the professors fearing it could be the last time that they would meet.

Something happened on Wednesday March 8th. Charles received a new visitor who, like Gérard, had just come from France. This time, however, Luis need not hide, for Pierre had his tutor’s confidence and his arrival was very well received. Luis sat unobtrusively at a corner to let them speak at ease, but he kept his ears open, in case they said something of interest. They spoke French, which Luis understood perfectly. Being his tutor’s mother tongue, he had learned it as a child.

“How long is it since we met?” asked Charles.

“You can’t have forgotten!” exclaimed Pierre. “It’s less than three years.”

“Yes, during the Russian campaign.”

“Don’t you remember what we did in the battle of Borodino?”

“Of course!”

“That’s where we got the…”

“Shut up!” Charles made a slight movement and pointed at Luis with his eyes.

“That’s why I’ve come” added Pierre, suddenly grave.

“What do you know?”

“That you are in danger.”

“Gérard is here.”

“Yes, he’s been sent to get it.”

“But he won’t get it.”

“That’s right.”

“With your help, it will be easier. In a few days, we are leaving Salamanca.”

“Gérard will follow.”

“We must send him on a wild chase. This will be your responsibility.”

“I’ll do what I can.”

“You’ll assume my identity, as the other time… do you remember?”

“How could I forget?”

“You saved my life.”

“I was paying my debt, you had saved mine before.”

“Yes, on May 3rd, 1808, in Madrid.”

“It was a difficult day.”

Charles shook his head.

“I don’t even remember why I had gone there. Luis was nine. I had left him in Salamanca. I didn’t take any special measures, as in 1812, so my trip was going to be very short, but things got complicated and I had to stay in Madrid for almost two months. Anyway, our meeting there was providential. Otherwise…”

“Otherwise I would be dead and Bonaparte would be the master of Europe.”

“Perhaps. We’ll speak again later. I must meet Gérard at the inn. I’m trying to gain time, to give him some hope that he’ll get it in the end, but his patience is getting short and I’m not yet ready to depart. I must concoct something to make him wait a few more days. See you.”

After Charles left, Luis arose, walked three times around the room and stopped before Pierre, who stared at him, waiting. Luis walked a little before stopping again. This time he almost opened his lips, but changed his mind. When he tried for the third time, Pierre spoke first:

“You want to ask me something.”

“Yes.”

“What do you want to know?”

“The secret.”

“Which secret?”

“Charles has a secret which concerns me. I want to know. I have a right to know.”

“How do you know that he has told me?”

“I don’t know, but I think he has.”

“Have you asked Charles?”

“Yes.”

“But he wouldn’t speak?”

“No.”

“Then, do you expect me to tell you, even if I knew?”

“No, that’s why I hesitated.”

“Can I help you in any other way?”

“Tell me about the amulet.”

“Which amulet?”

“Charles has an amulet which belonged to Bonaparte. He wants to get it back. That’s why Gérard is here.”

“Ah, you mean…! Sorry, I cannot speak about that, either. I can only tell you this: the amulet, as you call it, has something in common with you.”

“What?”

“Which day is your birthday?”

“July 22nd, 1798.”

“That day Bonaparte found it.”

Luis sat slowly on a chair.

“But, at that time, Bonaparte was in Egypt!”

“Right.”

“I was born the day after the battle of the pyramids.”

“Exactly.”

“Then Bonaparte found the amulet in the pyramids!”

“No, he found it in just one pyramid: in the largest.”

“How do you know?”

“I was there and saw him.”

“Is it a lucky amulet?”

“I don’t know what it is. Stop sounding me. I won’t tell you anything else.”

“I can tell you more, I’ve heard you speaking. You think that I don’t understand, but I’m not a fool. You told Charles about the amulet in Madrid, after he saved your life, and he decided to steal it. You went together to the Russian campaign and got hold of it during the battle of Borodino.”

Pierre smiled and winked, but didn’t speak, although he looked impressed by the deductions of the boy. He noticed and dared to go on.

“There is something else. While Bonaparte owned the amulet, all he did was successful: the coup d’etat in Brumaire 18th, the consulate, the empire, the battles of Marengo, Ulm, Austerlitz, Jena, Auerstädt, Friedland… But when he lost the amulet, things started to go wrong: the Russian disaster, the battle of Leipzig, the defeat of his armies in Spain and Italy, his banishment to Elba… It’s all very clear. He has left Elba and crossed to France, because he has discovered that Charles has the amulet, and hopes to get it again. This is why Gérard is here. This is why you are here.”

“I’ve come because Charles needs me.”

“All I’ve said is the truth, isn’t it?”

But Pierre winked and didn’t open his mouth again. Shortly later, Charles came back. His face told them that he had gained some more time against Gérard’s requests, but he didn’t provide any explanation, at least in the presence of the boy.

Five days went by, while Charles prepared their departure and Gérard was ever more impatient. On May 13th, the Frenchman gave an ultimatum: either he would get the next day what he wanted or he would take his own measures. Charles took the threat seriously. In the eleven days since his arrival, several Frenchmen without uniform, but clearly military, had been arriving separately. Gérard had now about twenty men at his orders and was ready to act, in spite of the Spanish authorities, whom Charles did not dare to involve anyway. However, he had waited too much: Charles had finished with the preparations for their flight.

“We’ll leave tomorrow before sunrise,” he told Pierre and the boy, who in the last few days had not left the house. “Everything is ready.”

“Shall we three go?” asked Luis.

“No, just you and me,” replied Charles. “Pierre stays in Salamanca.”

“Ah, yes! He has to assume your identity.”

Charles stared at him with irony and moved his head.

“You notice everything, don’t you? I wonder whether you know much more than I think.”

“But much less than I should.”

“Some day you’ll know everything.”

“That’s what you always say. That day may be too late.”

“I’ll run the risk. Let’s go to bed. Tomorrow we must rise early.”

It was dark when they awoke, broke their fast, took the backpacks with the few things they were to carry and left the house. In a nearby street, a man with two horses was waiting. Pierre received the latest instructions, shook their hands and went again in the house. Charles and Luis mounted and rode toward the roman bridge.

Leaning on the parapet was a man they had never seen before. He was clad in black, with a jet pummeled sword. His face, pallid like white paper, was darkened by a thin moustache in his upper lip and framed by two bushy sideburns and long, lank, black hair. When his black eyes stared at them, Luis felt a shudder. He wouldn’t have liked to have met such a spectral man without the company of Charles.

While they rode across the bridge, the eyes of the man followed them. Once outside Salamanca, they took the way to Alba de Tormes, for Charles wanted to make his pursuers believe that he intended to go to Madrid. Beyond that village, they took a side road which took them to the Southeast. They slept the first night in Castillejo de Salvatierra, near the sierra de Frades. On the 15th, they rode openly to the West, crossed the sierra and passed the night in Monflorido. They had seen no signs of being pursued.

The next day, Thursday March 16th, they kept traveling in the same direction. Charles told Luis that they were going to Portugal, to make Gérard lose track of the amulet, but didn’t give him any other details. After a weary ride, the longest since they had left Salamanca, they arrived at an inn near Ciudad Rodrigo. The innkeeper, a fat, bald, good-natured man, told them that lodgings were available, ordered his servants to tend and feed their horses, and took them inside. Charles ordered supper and the good man said:

“It will soon be ready. I’ll tell the cook to put more meat in the pot. You are not the first travelers in my house today. A strange man arrived one hour ago. You’ll meet him in the dining-room.”

He pointed at a door. Very tired after their long stage, Luis hurried through, hoping to sit down and rest a little. The red light of the setting sun was lighting the opposite wall, which was furnished with a row of chairs. In one of them sat the man in black with the pallid face whom they had seen two days before, while leaving Salamanca.