DOYLE, Arthur Conan - A Foreign Office Romance

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A FOREIGN OFFICE ROMANCE

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A Foreign Office Romance

(1903 ed.)

By Arthur Conan Doyle

Get any book for free on: www.Abika.com

A FOREIGN OFFICE ROMANCE

Get any book for free on: www.Abika.com

A Foreign Office Romance (1903 ed.)

by Arthur Conan Doyle

[Originally published 1894-nov]

[From Tragedy of the Korosko and The Green Flag and other

stories of War and Sport, London: Smith, Elder & Co., 1903]

There are many folk who knew Alphonse Lacour in his old age. From about the time of the

Revolution of '48 until he died in the second year of the Crimean War he was always to be found

in the same corner of the Café de Provence, at the end of the Rue St. Honoreé, coming down

about nine in the evening, and going when he could find no one to talk with. It took some self-

restraint to listen to the old diplomatist, for his stories were beyond all belief, and yet he was

quick at detecting the shadow of a smile or the slightest little raising of the eyebrows. Then his

huge, rounded back would straighten itself, his bull-dog chin would project, and his r's would

burr like a kettle-drum. When he got as far as "Ah, monsieur r-r-r-rit!" or "Vous ne me cr-r-r-

royez pas donc!" it was quite time to remember that you had a ticket for the opera.

There was his story of Talleyrand and the five oyster-shells, and there was his utterly absurd

account of Napoleon's second visit to Ajaccio. Then there was that most circumstantial romance

(which he never ventured upon until his second bottle had been uncorked) of the Emperor's

escape from St. Helena -- how he lived for a whole year in Philadelphia, while Count Herbert de

Bertrand, who was his living image, personated him at Longwood. But of all his stories there

was none which was more notorious than that of the Koran and the Foreign Office messenger.

And yet when Monsieur Otto's memoirs were written it was found that there really was some

foundation for old Lacour's incredible statement.

"You must know, monsieur," he would say, "that I left Egypt after Kleber's assassination. I

would gladly have stayed on, for I was engaged in a translation of the Koran, and between

ourselves I had thoughts at the time of embracing Mahometanism, for I was deeply struck by the

wisdom of their views about marriage. They had made an incredible mistake, however, upon the

subject of wine, and this was what the Mufti who attempted to convert me could never get over.

Then when old Kleber died and Menou came to the top, I felt that it was time for me to go. It is

not for me to speak of my own capacities, monsieur, but you will readily understand that the man

does not care to be ridden by the mule. I carried my Koran and my papers to London, where

Monsieur Otto had been sent by the first Consul to arrange a treaty of peace; for both nations

were very weary of the war, which had already lasted ten years. Here I was most useful to

Monsieur Otto on account of my knowledge of the English tongue, and also, if I may say so, on

account of my natural capacity. They were happy days during which I lived in the Square of

Bloomsbury. The climate of monsieur's country is, it must be confessed, detestable. But then

what would you have? Flowers grow best in the rain. One has but to point to monsieur's fellow-

country-women to prove it.

"Well, Monsieur Otto, our Ambassador, was kept terribly busy over that treaty, and all of his

staff were worked to death. We had not Pitt to deal with, which was perhaps as well for us. He

was a terrible man, that Pitt, and wherever half a dozen enemies of France were plotting together,

A FOREIGN OFFICE ROMANCE

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there was his sharp-pointed nose right in the middle of them. The nation, however, had been

thoughtful enough to put him out of office, and we had to do with Monsieur Addington. But

Milord Hawkesbury was the Foreign Minister, and it was with him that we were obliged to do

our bargaining.

"You can understand that it was no child's play. After ten years of war each nation had got hold

of a great deal which had belonged to the other, or to the other's allies. What was to be given

back? And what was to be kept? Is this island worth that peninsula? If we do this at Venice, will

you do that at Sierra Leone? If we give up Egypt to the Sultan, will you restore the Cape of Good

Hope, which you have taken from our allies the Dutch? So we wrangled and wrestled; and I have

seen Monsieur Otto come back to the Embassy so exhausted that his secretary and I had to help

him from his carriage to his sofa. But at last things adjusted themselves, and the night came

round when the treaty was to be finally signed.

"Now you must know that the one great card which we held, and which we played, played,

played at every point of the game, was that we had Egypt. The English were very nervous about

our being there. It gave us a foot on each end of the Mediterranean, you see. And they were not

sure that that wonderful little Napoleon of ours might not make it the base of an advance against

India. So whenever Lord Hawkesbury proposed to retain anything, we had only to reply, 'In that

case, of course, we cannot consent to evacuate Egypt,' and in this way we quickly brought him to

reason. It was by the help of Egypt that we gained terms which were remarkably favourable, and

especially that we caused the English to consent to give up the Cape of Good Hope; we did not

wish your people, monsieur, to have any foothold in South Africa, for history has taught us that

the British foothold of one half-century is the British Empire of the next. It is not your army or

your navy against which we have to guard, but it is your terrible younger son and your man in

search of a career. When we French have a possession across the seas, we like to sit in Paris and

to felicitate ourselves upon it. With you it is different. You take your wives and your children

and you run away to see what kind of place this may be, and after that we might as well try to

take that old Square of Bloomsbury away from you.

"Well, it was upon the first of October that the treaty was finally to be signed. In the morning I

was congratulating Monsieur Otto upon the happy conclusion of his labours. He was a little pale

shrimp of a man, very quick and nervous, and he was so delighted now at his own success that he

could not sit still, but ran about the room chattering and laughing, while I sat on a cushion in the

corner, as I had learned to do in the East. Suddenly, in came a messenger with a letter which had

been forwarded from Paris. Monsieur Otto cast his eyes upon it, and then, without a word, his

knees gave way, and he fell senseless upon the floor. I ran to him, as did the courier, and

between us we carried him to the sofa. He might have been dead from his appearance, but I could

still feel his heart thrilling beneath my palm.

"'What is this, then?' I asked.

"'I do not know,' answered the messenger. 'Monsieur Talleyrand told me to hurry as never man

hurried before, and to put this letter into the hands of Monsieur Otto. I was in Paris at midday

yesterday.'

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