A very large one, judging by the obsequiousness with which the manager had bowed them from his establishment.
They had hired an elegant little town house in Rue Chantereine, which came equipped with what seemed to Serena an enormous staff of servants. They had spent a good deal of time shopping buying muslin gowns, cloaks, shawls, fans and reticules for Serena, and fashionably cut items of day and evening wear, breeches, boots, coats and many-caped cloaks for the Doctor.
It had been, thought Serena, quite a pleasant way to pass the time. In fact she felt guilty about how much she had enjoyed it. But was she being lead astray by the Doctor's incorrigible frivolity? Were they really fulfilling their mission by spending money at expensive couturiers and sitting outside cafes in the sunshine drinking champagne?
The cost was weighing on Serena's conscience even more than the champagne.
'We must have spent an enormous amount of money, Doctor.'
'Don't worry, the Agency has unlimited secret funds,' said the Doctor cheerfully. 'Besides, we've got to keep up appearances. After all, if we're going to enter imperial society...'
'And just how are we going to do that? We're strangers here.'
'Imperial society is pretty fluid these days,' said the Doctor.
'They'll find room for a couple of fascinating strangers like us soon enough. They had a revolution remember.'
Serena looked around the busy street. Shops, cafes, strolling passers-by mostly prosperous-looking bourgeois citizens. Everything seemed peaceful and normal.
'Things don't look very revolutionary now.'
'That's because they're an Empire now, instead of a revolutionary republic. But ten, fifteen years ago the tumbrils were rolling along these streets.'
'Tumbrils?'
'Open carts, carrying condemned prisoners to the guillotine. They had one set up in the Place de la Concorde.
King Louis the Sixteenth was executed there, Queen Marie Antoinette. Then minor aristocrats, counter-revolutionaries, anybody who looked too prosperous and respectable, anyone somebody influential had a grudge against. Had a narrow escape myself, but that was a long time ago. Three thousand heads lopped off in Paris alone.'
Serena shuddered. 'Doctor, do you have to recount all these horrors?'
'Sorry. The point is, the old society was pretty well wiped out. The people who form society today are a very mixed lot.'
'All the same, since we don't know anybody, and nobody knows us...'
'You forget, we know the Emperor himself. We helped to save his life when he was a mere general. That ought to carry some social credit.'
'If he remembers.'
'He'll remember,' said the Doctor confidently. 'And if he doesn't, I'll remind him.'
'So what's our next move, Doctor?'
'We're making it,' said the Doctor. 'Absorbing the atmosphere, watching and waiting.'
'Waiting for what?'
'Opportunity.'
'But why here, why this particular cafe?'
'Napoleon used to play chess here when he was a penniless young officer.'
'He's hardly likely to drop in for a game now that he's Emperor, is he?'
'You never know. Besides, we're fairly close to the Palais de Tuileries, Napoleon's carriage often passes ' The Doctor broke off. 'Aha!'
Half a dozen cavalrymen in colourful uniforms and plumed helmets came trotting down the street. Behind them came a small carriage with the crest of a great gold bee on the door.
Inside sat a uniformed figure. More guards rode behind the carriage.
'Is that him?' asked Serena, excited despite herself. 'Is that the Emperor?'
The Doctor nodded. 'I rather think it is. There he is, in all his glory.'
Suddenly a rickety old wagon, piled high with tied-down wooden barrels, appeared from an alleyway between the shops. It forced its way into the road behind the soldiers, cutting them off from the imperial coach. The guards instinctively reined their mounts to a halt and there was immediate chaos. The angry cavalrymen were struggling to control their rearing and curvetting horses, bellowing orders to the wagon-driver to get his thrice-accursed wagon out of the way of the Emperor's coach.
The coachman, apparently terrified at what he had done, jumped down from his driving seat and ran off down the alley.
'He'll be in trouble when they catch him,' said Serena.
'Snarling up all the local traffic and obstructing the Emperor's coach.'
The Doctor was standing up, staring hard at the wagon.
'Smoke!' he said suddenly. 'One of those barrels is giving off smoke!' He sprang out of his chair and sprinted towards the abandoned wagon.
Chapter Twelve.
The Emperor
The Doctor leaped into the driving seat, seized the reins and drove the wagon forward, ploughing through the cavalry escort, whose horses reared and bucked and neighed, nearly unseating several of the riders.
The angry cavalrymen responded with an impressive variety of shouts and curses. 'Name of a dog!' they screamed. 'Son of a whore!' And more simply, ' Merde! Merde! ' '
'Clear that rattle-trap heap of junk from the road!'
'Out of the way!' bellowed the Doctor. 'Get back! Get the Emperor away.'
Seizing the driving whip from its holder he cracked it about the ears of the terrified horse and sent the wagon careering down the street.
At the end of the street there was a little square. The Doctor steered the wagon towards a decrepit-looking fountain in the centre. As the wagon crashed sideways into the fountain, the Doctor leaped from the driver's seat, rolling over and over as he hit the ground. He jumped up and ran back into the Rue Saint Honore.
Serena was running towards him. By the time she reached him, the Doctor had come to a halt. He was dusty but apparently unhurt. 'In my nice new outfit too,' he said.
'Doctor, are you all right?'
Before the Doctor could reply, a heavily moustached cavalry sergeant came pounding up to him. 'Name of a dog, what do you think you're doing, driving a horse and cart through my men? I'll have you shot you imbecile...'
The Doctor held up his hand. 'Listen!'
A tremendous explosion came from the centre of the little square. Even at this distance the blast sent all three of them staggering back. Shop windows shattered, people screamed.
The sergeant's normally red face went pale with shock and he stood staring at the Doctor in amazement. 'What the hell was that?'
'An explosion,' said the Doctor. 'Those barrels were filled with gunpowder, and one of them had a lit fuse attached.'
The sergeant crossed himself. 'The Emperor! They were trying to kill the Emperor!'
'Don't stand there gawping,' said the Doctor crisply. 'Go and make sure the Emperor is all right. Then send someone to check up on the damage in the square. People may be frightened and hurt. Reassure them that the danger is over.
Some of them may need first aid, see that they get help.
Move, man!'
Once again, Serena was astonished at the sheer authority, the tone of command, that the Doctor could produce when he wished.
The sergeant stared at him for a moment, then crashed to attention, saluted and bellowed, 'Sir!' He turned and pounded away.
'Come along, Serena,' said the Doctor. 'Let's finish our drink.'
When they got back to the cafe they found that the shock wave had tipped over their table. Unperturbed, the Doctor set it upright again, pulled up two chairs, and ushered Serena to a seat. He turned and waved to the terrified waiter, who was cowering inside the cafe. 'Waiter! More champagne.'
'How did you know?' asked Serena.
'Instinct, I suppose. A wagon blocking the Emperor's coach it was just too convenient to be a coincidence. And when I saw a wisp of smoke coming from one of the barrels...'
There was something faintly evasive about the Doctor's manner and Serena stared suspiciously at him. 'The truth please, Doctor.'
'I checked the historical archives,' admitted the Doctor.
(The TARDIS was now standing in the salon of their new residence, in the shape of a handsome longcase clock.) 'As a matter of fact an assassination attempt was recorded at this place and time.' He smiled at the look of horror on Serena's face. 'Don't look so shocked. The attempt failed. Napoleon's coach was moving too fast and it whizzed by just in time. I'm not altering history, just adjusting it a little. This may give us the introduction we need.'
'I'm not shocked at the interference,' said Serena. 'Though I suppose I should be. I'm shocked by the fact that we might easily have been blown up ourselves!'
'Nonsense,' said the Doctor. 'I knew what I was doing.
Trust me!'
Serena gave him a dubious look. Not only was the Doctor frivolous, he was reckless as well. And quite insanely brave.
After a moment she said, 'Was it the Countess?'
'Not unless she's changed sides, or the rules have changed. Why try to kill Wellesley and Nelson and and Napoleon? Surely she'd attack one side or the other?' Napoleon? Surely she'd attack one side or the other?'
The waiter brought their champagne, pouring them each a glass with a trembling hand.
Serena took a sip or rather a swig. She felt she needed it. 'The opposing team, then? Like the man who tried to get Napoleon guillotined?'
'Possibly,' said the Doctor. 'It was good old-fashioned gunpowder though. Seems a bit low-tech for that. It may well have been a perfectly genuine contemporary assassination attempt. There were quite a few, I believe.'
'By whom?'
'Oh, there's no shortage of candidates.'
'I thought Napoleon was popular.'
'He's popular with the mass of the people. He brought them stability and order after the chaos and slaughter of the Revolution. It's the extremists who hate him. The Royalists, because he's still a revolutionary, in theory, at least. And the hard-core revolutionaries hate him because he's not enough enough of a revolutionary.' of a revolutionary.'
'Obviously not, since he made himself Emperor.'
The Doctor smiled. 'Do you know what his official title is?
"Emperor of the French Republic." And if there's one thing a Republic can't possibly have it's an Emperor!'
As if to prove him wrong there was a sudden clatter of hooves and a voice bellowed, 'Sir! The Emperor wishes to see you.' It was the cavalry sergeant, reining in his horse in the roadway beside their table.
The Doctor grinned at Serena, rose and bowed. 'I should be honoured. Shall we go?'
He assisted Serena to rise, and tossed money on the table. They followed the sergeant's sedately trotting charger through the crowded street, now filled with mounted troopers and excited citizens. There was a babble of voices all around them.
'They tried to blow up the Emperor! Royalist swine!'