The Glorious Cause - Jeff Shaara [116]
“Doctor, are you familiar with Viscount David Stormont?”
Franklin knew the name, the British ambassador to France.
“I have not made his acquaintance, Your Excellency.”
“It’s not likely you will. He was here this morning, as expected, with his shrill protest of the escape of your supply ships. He made a rather hasty exit, not wishing to inflict upon himself the poison of actually meeting the rebel Dr. Franklin.”
Franklin smiled, but Vergennes was not amused by his own humor.
“Lord Stormont is a man filled with regrettable excitement. His job is to issue protest, and he is a man quite expert of performing his job. It has become a tedious routine, which even Mr. Stormont knows will bear no good results.”
Franklin sensed a gravity to Vergennes’ voice, a deeper meaning beyond his words. Franklin did not understand, tried to lighten the moment.
“I regret I should be such a fly in Lord Stormont’s ointment, Your Excellency.”
Vergennes seemed not to hear him.
“I must reveal something to you, Doctor, for which I hope you will not take offense. By my instruction, the police have been watching over you. I thought it a prudent precaution. Paris is not a dangerous city, Doctor, but you are a famous man, and vulnerable to a variety of evils. Should any harm come to you, it would be a severe embarrassment to King Louis. I am not ashamed to admit that it would cause me considerable distress as well.”
The news itself did not surprise him. That Vergennes would reveal it with such a somber tone did.
“I am not offended, Your Excellency. I admit to being somewhat cavalier in my habits. It is of comfort that your security officers have one eye on my well-being.”
Vergennes was still somber, said, “Doctor, we are not the only ones watching you. My invitation to you today was not public information, and yet Lord Stormont knew you were coming. This morning, by his careless complaint, he has revealed what we have long suspected to be true.”
Franklin was puzzled by Vergennes’ dark mood, said, “Your Excellency, I have long believed that the best remedy when surrounded by spies is to behave in a manner which, if made public, will cause no one to blush. If I believed that the valet in my hotel was a spy, which he probably is, I would be more concerned with the quality of his service than anything he could learn from me.”
Vergennes did not react as Franklin expected, folded his hands together on the table, stared down for a moment, said, “I am not so concerned that the English should have spies in Paris. It is a fact of life in Paris, as it is in London. My concern, Doctor, is that Lord Stormont is a man of ruthless purpose, and I believe he is a danger to you. Officially he is here to protest anything that might be offensive to his king. Unofficially he is the primary employer of English agents in Paris. What he revealed today is that they know as much about your whereabouts and your activities as I do. If the relationship between France and America should continue to improve, Lord Stormont might consider that an extreme offense he cannot ignore. Today, he made a dramatic show, spitting venom in my office. Tomorrow, that venom might take a different, more silent form. Doctor, I do not wish to frighten you. But I earnestly suggest you take care to avoid dark streets.”
MARCH 1777
Outside the Hotel d’Hambourg, the crowds had continued to gather, hoping to catch some glimpse of the famous American. The scheduled visitors came as well, men with their own nefarious proposals for assisting the American cause. Some wore uniforms, offered their service to the American army with extravagant claims of heroism, a pedigree of leadership that the great General Washington would surely find useful. Franklin had exhausted himself with politeness, receiving anyone who claimed to need his attention, but the demands became insufferable,