The First Book of Samuel by SAREJESS (unputdownable books .TXT) 📖

France in this time of trouble.” Peter the spy as he was known smiled grimly and said “One does what one can to lighten their burden but already they have lost so much and so many of them have died. Once Louis was executed that really woke the English up to how bad the situation was, they are much more friendly towards the refugeess and do what ever they can to make life a little better, but the refugeess themselves are so completely lost in this New World they find it difficult to accept that the court of France is gone for ever, that life is consigned to the rubbish dump of the past but you would think by their attitude that they are still part of the court waiting for the return of the King.” ended Peter the spy.

Samuel had seen this attitude before in Alexander 1700 years earlier when members of the Jewish community there after the fall of Jerusalem had thought that they would be allowed to return to build up the ancient capital but the Romans would not permit it. It would be several centuries yet before some would be allowed to return. Samuel wondered how long it would be before the refugeess realized that the King would not be returning. Their life in France as a privileged class was a thing of the past. Right now they faced a grim future in England depending on the goodness of the English nobles and to a larger extent on the good grace of the English parliament. The king of England was quite on there side having suffered a personal insult by the rebel colonies of the new world thus he found himself in favor of the refugeess and did what he could to make life a little better for them.

Peter the spy was speaking again “We have reports of a rising young officer in the French army by the name of Bonaparte. The British government would welcome any credible information on this young Corsican that can be found. If you should chance on any information please pass it on in the usual channels” said Peter now rising and walking towards the door, stopping he took a hanky from his under his cloak and dusted the lapel of his cloak.

Samuel looked after the man and nodded turning once more to the tumbler of brandy he swiftly swallowed the content of the tumbler. Smiling at Pierre, “Well my friend the English think we can perform miracles” he said. Pierre chuckled “quickly he is quite the dandy” he said, filling their glasses once more. "Relax my friend and enjoy the brandy the night is not yet spent and you need to reflect on this new business. What do the Revolutions broad sheets say of this man Bonaparte?” asked Pierre.

”I am not sure this is the first time I have heard the name” said Samuel “but I will be sure to keep my eyes and ears open in future” he said.

Peter the spy had given Samuel a lot to think about and he was still thinking about these things when he fell asleep in the chair near the fire. When he woke the light of an early winter morning was filtering through the window of the inn. He shivered in the cold as he stoked the fire back to life. Pierre swore softly as he woke from a deep sleep. “You are up early for a man who has only had a few hours sleep” he said to Samuel. “I have always been an early riser” he said as he remembered that he had been waking early for centuries. It always helped to be about early to see what the new day was bringing he had first started rising early in about 1400 AD. Ah how he remembered the 1400’s when the plague had visited Europe he of course was immune to the illnesses that usually affected other humans due to part of the curse he lived under. Samuel thought about all the inn’s he had owned over the centuries. He shook himself out of his reflections and straightened his jacket. “Have you finished loading my wagon?” he asked Pierre?

”Yes there are some nice cheeses and lots of fish on your wagon I think you will be pleased at your catch” said Pierre. Pierre was the sort of man that Samuel classed as one who was in the business of smuggling. Samuel opened the door bracing himself against the cold of the morning it had stopped snowing a short while earlier. The world looked beautiful in the early morning light. A cock crowed somewhere in the village, soon the locals would be about. He did not want to be about when they woke it might cause some unnecessary questions. He readied his wagon hitching his two horses to the wagon.

On the road back to his village he began to think about what Peter the spy had said. He began to wonder just how he would get any information on Colonel Bonaparte. He had not lived this long by becoming overtly involved in other people’s business. Yes there had been times when he had asked questions but always very carefully, never anxious to draw attention to himself. He did not really know anyone in the army. The only contact he had with the local military was through the provost Devall and he was not too sure DeVall would be happy to see him soon. Samuel was also aware that DeVall had made it painfully obvious that he expected a bigger cut of Samuel’s smuggling business. Better to stay out of sight for a while he thought until DeVall changed his mind. Of course if DeVall wanted to get nasty he could always accuse Samuel of treason against the revolution and thereby come into Samuel’s business, this he did not want.

He pulled his coat closer about him as the cold winter wind began to blow; he rubbed his hands to get the warmth back into his hands. He arrived just after midday at his home and gave instructions for the wagons unloading of the goods. The fish were quickly taken to the kitchen. While he went to his room to check that his strong box was still secured “one could never tell with your servants these days” he thought, finding every thing in order he descended the stairs to find his most trusted servant. The servant gave him a report of all that had been going on in his absence. There had been another visit by the militia in his absence, fortunately this time the men had been interested in nothing more than filling their bellies and drinking themselves into a drunken stupor. The servant mentioned there had been trouble in the kitchen between one of the serving maids and the chef. Samuel noted this and thought if this continues he would have to find a new chef the current chef had a habit of upsetting the maids. Samuel did not want to draw gossip to the inn by the behavior of his servants. It was very bad for the business if people talked about the goings on at the inn. It would draw dangerous attention from the authorities and Samuel knew how the citizens of the revolution enjoyed a good scandal. Brother betraying brother, something that had never happened before in the world, now in the name of freedom and liberty people were dying, so freedom came at an expensive price as far as he was concerned.

Later in the afternoon DeVall arrived at the inn seating himself at a corner table. He waited until Samuel had a chance to come over and seat himself. Pulling up a chair he sat down and waited for the Provost to start talking. “Well I trust that your little business was a success last night.” I have been thinking I should cut my self in for about thirty percent of your little business DeVall said.


The army had been called in to quell the mobs in Paris, even the towns and villages on the road from Paris now had a number of troops billeted in them. Everybody was being very careful not to say or do any thing that would cast suspicion on them.

Devall pushed open the door and entered followed by a short, well built man dressed in the uniform of a Colonel of the guards. He had a dark and ugly expression on his face. “Innkeeper a couple of bottles of your best brandy” said Devall seating his vast bulk on one of the chairs at a table near the fireplace. The colonel chose his seat with care making sure that he was facing the door of the inn.

Samuel hurried over with the bottles of brandy and some glasses, “Good day to you citizen Devall, citizen colonel. I hope you will partake in some of our freshly roasted duck” he said. “Yes” said the colonel with a bad Corsican accent, “bring the duck.” Samuel hurried off to the kitchen to arrange the food. Finding a serving maid in the kitchen he quietly told her to bring the food and to serve the guests with utmost care. Samuel did not like the looks of the colonel. He looked like a cruel man; his face gave one the idea that he was not one to be disturbed.

It had now been a week since the troops had arrived at the village. The colonel had been debilitated at the inn, a tiresome task for Samuel and the servants as nothing seemed to please the Corsican. At first Samuel had tried to be friendly but the colonel had rebuffed all his approaches. Bonaparte seemed to have other things on his mind and speaking with a lowly innkeeper was not one of them, however Samuel had noticed that the man's eyes followed you observing you, and taking great care not to be noticed observing you. “We will have to be careful with this one” Samuel had thought “he is likely to bring trouble on us if he becomes suspicious.”

Thus all the smuggling activity had ceased. Not that there were many nobles leaving France now, those who could get out had already done so. The others, poor unfortunates, had met with madam guillotine.

It had long been Samuel’s practice to observe, listen and take note, thus he returned to the bar and began polishing glasses, listening as Devall and Napoleon spoke. “We will know within the next few hours citizen Devall if you were correct in your assumption that there are people helping the aristocracy in this district” said Napoleon. “I am sure that there must be Colonel” said Devall always anxious to please the short man, ever mindful that a bad report in Paris could have him removed from his position of provost. How Samuel hated Devall! “Fat pig!” he thought “It would be quite a sight to see you meeting Madam Guillotine.”

”Have you questioned the fishermen of the coastal village?” asked Devall as he poured himself another glass of brandy. “Yes my men have reported that they have found nothing but a small group of smugglers who have been plying the channel serving the English with our good brandy and wines but nothing more. Right now they are searching some of the farm houses and chateaus in the area for secret rooms.”

”God that man has a terrible accent! It is a wonder the tribunal has not executed him for the murder of the French language. If he only knew how close he is to our secret room he would be enraged” thought Samuel. Napoleon said “If we don't find any thing in the next few hours