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diff --git a/old/20122-8.txt b/old/20122-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..16a96de --- /dev/null +++ b/old/20122-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,20695 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Queen's Necklace, by Alexandre Dumas père + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Queen's Necklace + + +Author: Alexandre Dumas père + + + +Release Date: December 16, 2006 [eBook #20122] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE QUEEN'S NECKLACE*** + + +E-text prepared by Juergen Lohnert, Wilelmina Maillière, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net/) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 20122-h.htm or 20122-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/0/1/2/20122/20122-h/20122-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/0/1/2/20122/20122-h.zip) + + + + + +The Works of Alexandre Dumas +in Thirty Volumes + +THE QUEEN'S NECKLACE + +Illustrated with Drawings on Wood by +Eminent French and American Artists + + + + + + + +[Illustration: CAGLIOSTRO AND OLIVA +_Dumas, Vol. Eight_] + + +[Illustration] + + + +New York +P.F. Collier and Son +MCMIV + + + + +THE QUEEN'S NECKLACE. + + +PROLOGUE.--THE PREDICTIONS. + +AN OLD NOBLEMAN AND AN OLD MAÎTRE-D'HÔTEL. + + +It was the beginning of April, 1784, between twelve and one o'clock. Our +old acquaintance, the Marshal de Richelieu, having with his own hands +colored his eyebrows with a perfumed dye, pushed away the mirror which +was held to him by his valet, the successor of his faithful Raffè and +shaking his head in the manner peculiar to himself, "Ah!" said he, "now +I look myself;" and rising from his seat with juvenile vivacity, he +commenced shaking off the powder which had fallen from his wig over his +blue velvet coat, then, after taking a turn or two up and down his room, +called for his maître-d'hôtel. + +In five minutes this personage made his appearance, elaborately dressed. + +The marshal turned towards him, and with a gravity befitting the +occasion, said, "Sir, I suppose you have prepared me a good dinner?" + +"Certainly, your grace." + +"You have the list of my guests?" + +"I remember them perfectly, your grace; I have prepared a dinner for +nine." + +"There are two sorts of dinners, sir," said the marshal. + +"True, your grace, but----" + +The marshal interrupted him with a slightly impatient movement, although +still dignified. + +"Do you know, sir, that whenever I have heard the word 'but,' and I have +heard it many times in the course of eighty-eight years, it has been +each time, I am sorry to say, the harbinger of some folly." + +"Your grace----" + +"In the first place, at what time do we dine?" + +"Your grace, the citizens dine at two, the bar at three, the nobility at +four----" + +"And I, sir?" + +"Your grace will dine to-day at five." + +"Oh, at five!" + +"Yes, your grace, like the king----" + +"And why like the king?" + +"Because, on the list of your guests, is the name of a king." + +"Not so, sir, you mistake; all my guests to-day are simply noblemen." + +"Your grace is surely jesting; the Count Haga,[A] who is among the +guests----" + +[A] The name of Count Haga was well known as one assumed by the King of +Sweden when traveling in France. + +"Well, sir!" + +"The Count Haga is a king." + +"I know no king so called." + +"Your grace must pardon me then," said the maître-d'hôtel, bowing, "but, +I believed, supposed----" + +"Your business, sir, is neither to believe nor suppose; your business is +to read, without comment, the orders I give you. When I wish a thing to +be known, I tell it; when I do not tell it, I wish it unknown." + +The maître-d'hôtel bowed again, more respectfully, perhaps, than he +would have done to a reigning monarch. + +"Therefore, sir," continued the old marshal, "you will, as I have none +but noblemen to dinner, let us dine at my usual hour, four o'clock." + +At this order, the countenance of the maître-d'hôtel became clouded as +if he had heard his sentence of death; he grew deadly pale; then, +recovering himself, with the courage of despair he said, "In any event, +your grace cannot dine before five o'clock." + +"Why so, sir?" cried the marshal. + +"Because it is utterly impossible." + +"Sir," said the marshal, with a haughty air, "it is now, I believe, +twenty years since you entered my service?" + +"Twenty-one years, a month, and two weeks." + +"Well, sir, to these twenty-one years, a month, and two weeks, you will +not add a day, nor an hour. You understand me, sir," he continued, +biting his thin lips and depressing his eyebrows; "this evening you seek +a new master. I do not choose that the word impossible shall be +pronounced in my house; I am too old now to begin to learn its meaning." + +The maître-d'hôtel bowed a third time. + +"This evening," said he, "I shall have taken leave of your grace, but, +at least, up to the last moment, my duty shall have been performed as it +should be;" and he made two steps towards the door. + +"What do you call as it should be?" cried the marshal. "Learn, sir, that +to do it as it suits me is to do it as it should be. Now, I wish to dine +at four, and it does not suit me, when I wish to dine at four, to be +obliged to wait till five." + +"Your grace," replied the maître-d'hôtel, gravely, "I have served as +butler to his highness the Prince de Soubise, and as steward to his +eminence the Cardinal de Rohan. With the first, his majesty, the late +King of France, dined once a year; with the second, the Emperor of +Austria dined once a month. I know, therefore, how a sovereign should be +treated. When he visited the Prince de Soubise, Louis XV. called himself +in vain the Baron de Gonesse; at the house of M. de Rohan, the Emperor +Joseph was announced as the Count de Packenstein; but he was none the +less emperor. To-day, your grace also receives a guest, who vainly calls +himself Count Haga--Count Haga is still King of Sweden. I shall leave +your service this evening, but Count Haga will have been treated like a +king." + +"But that," said the marshal, "is the very thing that I am tiring myself +to death in forbidding; Count Haga wishes to preserve his incognito as +strictly as possible. Well do I see through your absurd vanity; it is +not the crown that you honor, but yourself that you wish to glorify; I +repeat again, that I do not wish it imagined that I have a king here." + +"What, then, does your grace take me for? It is not that I wish it known +that there is a king here." + +"Then in heaven's name do not be obstinate, but let us have dinner at +four." + +"But at four o'clock, your grace, what I am expecting will not have +arrived." + +"What are you expecting? a fish, like M. Vatel?" + +"Does your grace wish that I should tell you?" + +"On my faith, I am curious." + +"Then, your grace, I wait for a bottle of wine." + +"A bottle of wine! Explain yourself, sir, the thing begins to interest +me." + +"Listen then, your grace; his majesty the King of Sweden--I beg pardon, +the Count Haga I should have said--drinks nothing but tokay." + +"Well, am I so poor as to have no tokay in my cellar? If so, I must +dismiss my butler." + +"Not so, your grace; on the contrary, you have about sixty bottles." + +"Well, do you think Count Haga will drink sixty bottles with his +dinner?" + +"No, your grace; but when Count Haga first visited France, when he was +only prince royal, he dined with the late king, who had received twelve +bottles of tokay from the Emperor of Austria. You are aware that the +tokay of the finest vintages is reserved exclusively for the cellar of +the emperor, and that kings themselves can only drink it when he pleases +to send it to them." + +"I know it." + +"Then, your grace, of these twelve bottles of which the prince royal +drank, only two remain. One is in the cellar of his majesty Louis +XVI.----" + +"And the other?" + +"Ah, your grace!" said the maître-d'hôtel, with a triumphant smile, for +he felt that, after the long battle he had been fighting, the moment of +victory was at hand, "the other one was stolen." + +"By whom, then?" + +"By one of my friends, the late king's butler, who was under great +obligations to me." + +"Oh! and so he gave it to you." + +"Certainly, your grace," said the maître-d'hôtel with pride. + +"And what did you do with it?" + +"I placed it carefully in my master's cellar." + +"Your master! And who was your master at that time?" + +"His eminence the Cardinal de Rohan." + +"Ah, mon Dieu! at Strasbourg?" + +"At Saverne." + +"And you have sent to seek this bottle for me!" cried the old marshal. + +"For you, your grace," replied the maître-d'hôtel, in a tone which +plainly said, "ungrateful as you are." + +The Duke de Richelieu seized the hand of the old servant and cried, "I +beg pardon; you are the king of maîtres d'hôtel." + +"And you would have dismissed me," he replied, with an indescribable +shrug of his shoulders. + +"Oh, I will pay you one hundred pistoles for this bottle of wine." + +"And the expenses of its coming here will be another hundred; but you +will grant that it is worth it." + +"I will grant anything you please, and, to begin, from to-day I double +your salary." + +"I seek no reward, your grace; I have but done my duty." + +"And when will your courier arrive?" + +"Your grace may judge if I have lost time: on what day did I have my +orders for the dinner?" + +"Why, three days ago, I believe." + +"It takes a courier, at his utmost speed, twenty-four hours to go, and +the same to return." + +"There still remain twenty-four hours," said the marshal; "how have they +been employed?" + +"Alas, your grace, they were lost. The idea only came to me the day +after I received the list of your guests. Now calculate the time +necessary for the negotiation, and you will perceive that in asking you +to wait till five I am only doing what I am absolutely obliged to do." + +"The bottle is not yet arrived, then?" + +"No, your grace." + +"Ah, sir, if your colleague at Saverne be as devoted to the Prince de +Rohan as you are to me, and should refuse the bottle, as you would do in +his place----" + +"I? your grace----" + +"Yes; you would not, I suppose, have given away such a bottle, had it +belonged to me?" + +"I beg your pardon, humbly, your grace; but had a friend, having a king +to provide for, asked me for your best bottle of wine, he should have +had it immediately." + +"Oh!" said the marshal, with a grimace. + +"It is only by helping others that we can expect help in our own need, +your grace." + +"Well, then, I suppose we may calculate that it will be given, but there +is still another risk--if the bottle should be broken?" + +"Oh! your grace, who would break a bottle of wine of that value?" + +"Well, I trust not; what time, then, do you expect your courier?" + +"At four o'clock precisely." + +"Then why not dine at four?" replied the marshal. + +"Your grace, the wine must rest for an hour; and had it not been for an +invention of my own, it would have required three days to recover +itself." + +Beaten at all points, the marshal gave way. + +"Besides," continued the old servant, "be sure, your grace, that your +guests will not arrive before half-past four." + +"And why not?" + +"Consider, your grace: to begin with M. de Launay; he comes from the +Bastile, and with the ice at present covering the streets of Paris----" + +"No; but he will leave after the prisoners' dinner, at twelve o'clock." + +"Pardon me, your grace, but the dinner hour at the Bastile has been +changed since your grace was there; it is now one." + +"Sir, you are learned on all points; pray go on." + +"Madame Dubarry comes from the Luciennes, one continued descent, and in +this frost." + +"That would not prevent her being punctual, since she is no longer a +duke's favorite; she plays the queen only among barons; but let me tell +you, sir, that I desire to have dinner early on account of M. de la +Pérouse, who sets off to-night, and would not wish to be late." + +"But, your grace, M. de la Pérouse is with the king, discussing +geography and cosmography; he will not get away too early." + +"It is possible." + +"It is certain, your grace, and it will be the same with M. de Favras, +who is with the Count de Provence, talking, no doubt, of the new play by +the Canon de Beaumarchais." + +"You mean the 'Marriage of Figaro'?" + +"Yes, your grace." + +"Why, you are quite literary also, it seems." + +"In my leisure moments I read, your grace." + +"We have, however, M. de Condorcet, who, being a geometrician, should at +least be punctual." + +"Yes; but he will be deep in some calculation, from which, when he +rouses himself, it will probably be at least half an hour too late. As +for the Count Cagliostro, as he is a stranger, and not well acquainted +with the customs of Versailles, he will, in all probability, make us +wait for him." + +"Well," said the marshal, "you have disposed of all my guests, except M. +de Taverney, in a manner worthy of Homer, or of my poor Raffè." + +The maître-d'hôtel bowed. "I have not," said he, "named M. de Taverney, +because, being an old friend, he will probably be punctual." + +"Good; and where do we dine?" + +"In the great dining-room, your grace." + +"But we shall freeze there." + +"It has been warmed for three days, your grace; and I believe you will +find it perfectly comfortable." + +"Very well; but there is a clock striking! Why, it is half-past four!" +cried the marshal. + +"Yes, your grace; and there is the courier entering the courtyard with +my bottle of tokay." + +"May I continue for another twenty years to be served in this manner!" +said the marshal, turning again to his looking-glass, while the +maître-d'hôtel ran down-stairs. + +"Twenty years!" said a laughing voice, interrupting the marshal in his +survey of himself; "twenty years, my dear duke! I wish them you; but +then I shall be sixty--I shall be very old." + +"You, countess!" cried the marshal, "you are my first arrival, and, mon +Dieu! you look as young and charming as ever." + +"Duke, I am frozen." + +"Come into the boudoir, then." + +"Oh! tête-à-tête, marshal?" + +"Not so," replied a somewhat broken voice. + +"Ah! Taverney!" said the marshal; and then whispering to the countess, +"Plague take him for disturbing us!" + +Madame Dubarry laughed, and they all entered the adjoining room. + + * * * * * + + + + + +II.--M. DE LA PEROUSE. + + +At the same moment, the noise of carriages in the street warned the +marshal that his guests were arriving; and soon after, thanks to the +punctuality of his maître-d'hôtel, nine persons were seated round the +oval table in the dining-room. Nine lackeys, silent as shadows, quick +without bustle, and attentive without importunity, glided over the +carpet, and passed among the guests, without ever touching their chairs, +which were surrounded with furs, which were wrapped round the legs of +the sitters. These furs, with the heat from the stoves, and the odors +from the wine and the dinner, diffused a degree of comfort, which +manifested itself in the gaiety of the guests, who had just finished +their soup. + +No sound was heard from without, and none within, save that made by the +guests themselves; for the plates were changed, and the dishes moved +round, with the most perfect quiet. Nor from the maître d'hôtel could a +whisper be heard; he seemed to give his orders with his eyes. + +The guests, therefore, began to feel as though they were alone. It +seemed to them that servants so silent must also be deaf. + +M. de Richelieu was the first who broke the silence, by saying to the +guest on his right hand, "But, count, you drink nothing." + +This was addressed to a man about thirty-eight years of age, short, +fair-haired, and with high shoulders; his eye a clear blue, now bright, +but oftener with a pensive expression, and with nobility stamped +unmistakably on his open and manly forehead. + +"I only drink water, marshal," he replied. + +"Excepting with Louis XV.," returned the marshal; "I had the honor of +dining at his table with you, and you deigned that day to drink wine." + +"Ah! you recall a pleasing remembrance, marshal; that was in 1771. It +was tokay, from the imperial cellar." + +"It was like that with which my maître-d'hôtel will now have the honor +to fill your glass," replied Richelieu, bowing. + +Count Haga raised his glass, and looked through it. The wine sparkled in +the light like liquid rubies. "It is true," said he; "marshal, I thank +you." + +These words were uttered in a manner so noble, that the guests, as if by +a common impulse, rose, and cried,-- + +"Long live the king!" + +"Yes," said Count Haga, "long live his majesty the King of France. What +say you, M. de la Pérouse?" + +"My lord," replied the captain, with that tone, at once flattering and +respectful, common to those accustomed to address crowned heads, "I have +just left the king, and his majesty has shown me so much kindness, that +no one will more willingly cry 'Long live the king' than I. Only, as in +another hour I must leave you to join the two ships which his majesty +has put at my disposal, once out of this house, I shall take the liberty +of saying, 'Long life to another king, whom I should be proud to serve, +had I not already so good a master.'" + +"This health that you propose," said Madame Dubarry, who sat on the +marshal's left hand, "we are all ready to drink, but the oldest of us +should take the lead." + +"Is it you, that that concerns, or me, Taverney?" said the marshal, +laughing. + +"I do not believe," said another on the opposite side, "that M. de +Richelieu is the senior of our party." + +"Then it is you, Taverney," said the duke. + +"No, I am eight years younger than you! I was born in 1704," returned +he. + +"How rude," said the marshal, "to expose my eighty-eight years." + +"Impossible, duke! that you are eighty-eight," said M. de Condorcet. + +"It is, however, but too true; it is a calculation easy to make, and +therefore unworthy of an algebraist like you, marquis. I am of the last +century--the great century, as we call it. My date is 1696." + +"Impossible!" cried De Launay. + +"Oh, if your father were here, he would not say impossible, he, who, +when governor of the Bastile, had me for a lodger in 1714." + +"The senior in age, here, however," said M. de Favras, "is the wine +Count Haga is now drinking." + +"You are right, M. de Favras; this wine is a hundred and twenty years +old; to the wine, then, belongs the honor----" + +"One moment, gentlemen," said Cagliostro, raising his eyes, beaming with +intelligence and vivacity; "I claim the precedence." + +"You claim precedence over the tokay!" exclaimed all the guests in +chorus. + +"Assuredly," returned Cagliostro, calmly; "since it was I who bottled +it." + +"You?" + +"Yes, I; on the day of the victory won by Montecucully over the Turks in +1664." + +A burst of laughter followed these words, which Cagliostro had +pronounced with perfect gravity. + +"By this calculation, you would be something like one hundred and thirty +years old," said Madame Dubarry; "for you must have been at least ten +years old when you bottled the wine." + +"I was more than ten when I performed that operation, madame, as on the +following day I had the honor of being deputed by his majesty the +Emperor of Austria to congratulate Montecucully, who by the victory of +St. Gothard had avenged the day at Especk, in Sclavonia, in which the +infidels treated the imperialists so roughly, who were my friends and +companions in arms in 1536." + +"Oh," said Count Haga, as coldly as Cagliostro himself, "you must have +been at least ten years old, when you were at that memorable battle." + +"A terrible defeat, count," returned Cagliostro. + +"Less terrible than Cressy, however," said Condorcet, smiling. + +"True, sir, for at the battle of Cressy, it was not only an army, but +all France, that was beaten; but then this defeat was scarcely a fair +victory to the English; for King Edward had cannon, a circumstance of +which Philip de Valois was ignorant, or rather, which he would not +believe, although I warned him that I had with my own eyes seen four +pieces of artillery which Edward had bought from the Venetians." + +"Ah," said Madame Dubarry; "you knew Philip de Valois?" + +"Madame, I had the honor to be one of the five lords who escorted him +off the field of battle; I came to France with the poor old King of +Bohemia, who was blind, and who threw away his life when he heard that +the battle was lost." + +"Ah, sir," said M. de la Pérouse, "how much I regret, that instead of +the battle of Cressy, it was not that of Actium at which you assisted." + +"Why so, sir?" + +"Oh, because you might have given me some nautical details, which, in +spite of Plutarch's fine narration, have ever been obscure to me." + +"Which, sir? I should be happy to be of service to you." + +"Oh, you were there, then, also?" + +"No, sir; I was then in Egypt. I had been employed by Queen Cleopatra to +restore the library at Alexandria--an office for which I was better +qualified than any one else, from having personally known the best +authors of antiquity." + +"And you have seen Queen Cleopatra?" said Madame Dubarry. + +"As I now see you, madame." + +"Was she as pretty as they say?" + +"Madame, you know beauty is only comparative; a charming queen in Egypt, +in Paris she would only have been a pretty grisette." + +"Say no harm of grisettes, count." + +"God forbid!" + +"Then Cleopatra was----" + +"Little, slender, lively, and intelligent; with large almond-shaped +eyes, a Grecian nose, teeth like pearls, and a hand like your own, +countess--a fit hand to hold a scepter. See, here is a diamond which she +gave me, and which she had had from her brother Ptolemy; she wore it on +her thumb." + +"On her thumb?" cried Madame Dubarry. + +"Yes; it was an Egyptian fashion; and I, you see, can hardly put it on +my little finger;" and taking off the ring, he handed it to Madame +Dubarry. + +It was a magnificent diamond, of such fine water, and so beautifully +cut, as to be worth thirty thousand or forty thousand francs. + +The diamond was passed round the table, and returned to Cagliostro, who, +putting it quietly on his finger again, said, "Ah, I see well you are +all incredulous; this fatal incredulity I have had to contend against +all my life. Philip de Valois would not listen to me, when I told him to +leave open a retreat to Edward; Cleopatra would not believe me when I +warned her that Antony would be beaten: the Trojans would not credit me, +when I said to them, with reference to the wooden horse, 'Cassandra is +inspired; listen to Cassandra.'" + +"Oh! it is charming," said Madame Dubarry, shaking with laughter; "I +have never met a man at once so serious and so diverting." + +"I assure you," replied Cagliostro, "that Jonathan was much more so. He +was really a charming companion; until he was killed by Saul, he nearly +drove me crazy with laughing." + +"Do you know," said the Duke de Richelieu, "if you go on in this way you +will drive poor Taverney crazy; he is so afraid of death, that he is +staring at you with all his eyes, hoping you to be an immortal." + +"Immortal I cannot say, but one thing I can affirm----" + +"What?" cried Taverney, who was the most eager listener. + +"That I have seen all the people and events of which I have been +speaking to you." + +"You have known Montecucully?" + +"As well as I know you, M. de Favras; and, indeed, much better, for this +is but the second or third time I have had the honor of seeing you, +while I lived nearly a year under the same tent with him of whom you +speak." + +"You knew Philip de Valois?" + +"As I have already had the honor of telling you, M. de Condorcet; but +when he returned to Paris, I left France and returned to Bohemia." + +"And Cleopatra." + +"Yes, countess; Cleopatra, I can tell you, had eyes as black as yours, +and shoulders almost as beautiful." + +"But what do you know of my shoulders?" + +"They are like what Cassandra's once were; and there is still a further +resemblance,--she had like you, or rather, you have like her, a little +black spot on your left side, just above the sixth rib." + +"Oh, count, now you really are a sorcerer." + +"No, no," cried the marshal, laughing; "it was I who told him." + +"And pray how do you know?" + +The marshal bit his lips, and replied, "Oh, it is a family secret." + +"Well, really, marshal," said the countess, "one should put on a double +coat of rouge before visiting you;" and turning again to Cagliostro, +"then, sir, you have the art of renewing your youth? For although you +say you are three or four thousand years old, you scarcely look forty." + +"Yes, madame, I do possess that secret." + +"Oh, then, sir, impart it to me." + +"To you, madame? It is useless; your youth is already renewed; your age +is only what it appears to be, and you do not look thirty." + +"Ah! you flatter." + +"No, madame, I speak only the truth, but it is easily explained: you +have already tried my receipt." + +"How so?" + +"You have taken my elixir." + +"I?" + +"You, countess. Oh! you cannot have forgotten it. Do you not remember a +certain house in the Rue St. Claude, and coming there on some business +respecting M. de Sartines? You remember rendering a service to one of my +friends, called Joseph Balsamo, and that this Joseph Balsamo gave you a +bottle of elixir, recommending you to take three drops every morning? Do +you not remember having done this regularly until the last year, when +the bottle became exhausted? If you do not remember all this, countess, +it is more than forgetfulness--it is ingratitude." + +"Oh! M. Cagliostro, you are telling me things----" + +"Which were only known to yourself, I am aware; but what would be the +use of being a sorcerer if one did not know one's neighbor's secrets?" + +"Then Joseph Balsamo has, like you, the secret of this famous elixir?" + +"No, madame, but he was one of my best friends, and I gave him three or +four bottles." + +"And has he any left?" + +"Oh! I know nothing of that; for the last two or three years, poor +Balsamo has disappeared. The last time I saw him was in America, on the +banks of the Ohio: he was setting off on an expedition to the Rocky +Mountains, and since then I have heard that he is dead." + +"Come, come, count," cried the marshal; "let us have the secret, by all +means." + +"Are you speaking seriously, sir?" said Count Haga. + +"Very seriously, sire,--I beg pardon, I mean count;" and Cagliostro +bowed in such a way as to indicate that his error was a voluntary one. + +"Then," said the marshal, "Madame Dubarry is not old enough to be made +young again?" + +"No, on my conscience." + +"Well, then, I will give you another subject: here is my friend, M. +Taverney--what do you say to him? Does he not look like a contemporary +of Pontius Pilate? But perhaps, he, on the contrary, is too old." + +Cagliostro looked at the baron. "No," said he. + +"Ah! my dear count," exclaimed Richelieu; "if you will renew his youth, +I will proclaim you a true pupil of Medea." + +"You wish it?" asked Cagliostro of the host, and looking round at the +same time on all assembled. + +Every one called out, "Yes." + +"And you also, M. Taverney?" + +"I more than any one," said the baron. + +"Well, it is easy," returned Cagliostro; and he drew from his pocket a +small bottle, and poured into a glass some of the liquid it contained. +Then, mixing these drops with half a glass of iced champagne, he passed +it to the baron. + +All eyes followed his movements eagerly. + +The baron took the glass, but as he was about to drink he hesitated. + +Every one began to laugh, but Cagliostro called out, "Drink, baron, or +you will lose a liquor of which each drop is worth a hundred louis +d'ors." + +"The devil," cried Richelieu; "that is even better than tokay." + +"I must then drink?" said the baron, almost trembling. + +"Or pass the glass to another, sir, that some one at least may profit by +it." + +"Pass it here," said Richelieu, holding out his hand. + +The baron raised the glass, and decided, doubtless, by the delicious +smell and the beautiful rose color which those few drops had given to +the champagne, he swallowed the magic liquor. In an instant a kind of +shiver ran through him; he seemed to feel all his old and sluggish blood +rushing quickly through his veins, from his heart to his feet, his +wrinkled skin seemed to expand, his eyes, half covered by their lids, +appeared to open without his will, and the pupils to grow and brighten, +the trembling of his hands to cease, his voice to strengthen, and his +limbs to recover their former youthful elasticity. In fact, it seemed as +if the liquid in its descent had regenerated his whole body. + +A cry of surprise, wonder, and admiration rang through the room. + +Taverney, who had been slowly eating with his gums, began to feel +famished; he seized a plate and helped himself largely to a ragout, and +then demolished a partridge, bones and all, calling out that his teeth +were coming back to him. He ate, laughed, and cried for joy, for half an +hour, while the others remained gazing at him in stupefied wonder; then +little by little he failed again, like a lamp whose oil is burning out, +and all the former signs of old age returned upon him. + +"Oh!" groaned he, "once more adieu to my youth," and he gave utterance +to a deep sigh, while two tears rolled over his cheeks. + +Instinctively, at this mournful spectacle of the old man first made +young again, and then seeming to become yet older than before, from the +contrast, the sigh was echoed all round the table. + +"It is easy to explain, gentlemen," said Cagliostro; "I gave the baron +but thirty-five drops of the elixir. He became young, therefore, for +only thirty-five minutes." + +"Oh more, more, count!" cried the old man eagerly. + +"No, sir, for perhaps the second trial would kill you." + +Of all the guests, Madame Dubarry, who had already tested the virtue of +the elixir, seemed most deeply interested while old Taverney's youth +seemed thus to renew itself; she had watched him with delight and +triumph, and half fancied herself growing young again at the sight, +while she could hardly refrain from endeavoring to snatch from +Cagliostro the wonderful bottle; but now, seeing him resume his old age +even quicker than he had lost it, "Alas!" she said sadly, "all is vanity +and deception; the effects of this wonderful secret last for thirty-five +minutes." + +"That is to say," said Count Haga, "that in order to resume your youth +for two years, you would have to drink a perfect river." + +Every one laughed. + +"Oh!" said De Condorcet, "the calculation is simple; a mere nothing of +3,153,000 drops for one year's youth." + +"An inundation," said La Pérouse. + +"However, sir," continued Madame Dubarry; "according to you, I have not +needed so much, as a small bottle about four times the size of that you +hold has been sufficient to arrest the march of time for ten years." + +"Just so, madame. And you alone approach this mysterious truth. The man +who has already grown old needs this large quantity to produce an +immediate and powerful effect; but a woman of thirty, as you were, or a +man of forty, as I was, when I began to drink this elixir, still full of +life and youth, needs but ten drops at each period of decay; and with +these ten drops may eternally continue his life and youth at the same +point." + +"What do you call the periods of decay?" asked Count Haga. + +"The natural periods, count. In a state of nature, man's strength +increases until thirty-five years of age. It then remains stationary +until forty; and from that time forward, it begins to diminish, but +almost imperceptibly, until fifty; then the process becomes quicker and +quicker to the day of his death. In our state of civilization, when the +body is weakened by excess, cares, and maladies, the failure begins at +thirty-five. The time, then, to take nature, is when she is stationary, +so as to forestall the beginning of decay. He who, possessor as I am of +the secret of this elixir, knows how to seize the happy moment, will +live as I live; always young, or, at least, always young enough for what +he has to do in the world." + +"Oh, M. Cagliostro," cried the countess; "why, if you could choose your +own age, did you not stop at twenty instead of at forty?" + +"Because, madame," said Cagliostro, smiling, "it suits me better to be a +man of forty, still healthy and vigorous, than a raw youth of twenty." + +"Oh!" said the countess. + +"Doubtless, madame," continued Cagliostro, "at twenty one pleases women +of thirty; at forty, we govern women of twenty, and men of sixty." + +"I yield, sir," said the countess, "for you are a living proof of the +truth of your own words." + +"Then I," said Taverney, piteously, "am condemned; it is too late for +me." + +"M. de Richelieu has been more skilful than you," said La Pérouse +naïvely, "and I have always heard that he had some secret." + +"It is a report that the women have spread," laughed Count Haga. + +"Is that a reason for disbelieving it, duke?" asked Madame Dubarry. + +The old duke colored, a rare thing for him; but replied, "Do you wish, +gentlemen, to have my receipt?" + +"Oh, by all means." + +"Well, then, it is simply to take care of yourself." + +"Oh, oh!" cried all. + +"But, M. Cagliostro," continued Madame Dubarry, "I must ask more about +the elixir." + +"Well, madame?" + +"You said you first used it at forty years of age----" + +"Yes, madame." + +"And that since that time, that is, since the siege of Troy----" + +"A little before, madame." + +"That you have always remained forty years old?" + +"You see me now." + +"But then, sir," said De Condorcet, "you argue, not only the +perpetuation of youth, but the preservation of life; for if since the +siege of Troy you have been always forty, you have never died." + +"True, marquis, I have never died." + +"But are you, then, invulnerable, like Achilles, or still more so, for +Achilles was killed by the arrow of Paris?" + +"No. I am not invulnerable, and there is my great regret," said +Cagliostro. + +"Then, sir, you may be killed." + +"Alas! yes." + +"How, then, have you escaped all accidents for three thousand five +hundred years?" + +"It is chance, marquis, but will you follow my reasoning?" + +"Yes, yes," cried all, with eagerness. + +Cagliostro continued: "What is the first requisite to life?" he asked, +spreading out his white and beautiful hands covered with rings, among +which Cleopatra's shone conspicuously. "Is it not health!" + +"Certainly." + +"And the way to preserve health is?" + +"Proper management," said Count Haga. + +"Right, count. And why should not my elixir be the best possible method +of treatment? And this treatment I have adopted, and with it have +preserved my youth, and with youth, health, and life." + +"But all things exhaust themselves; the finest constitution, as well as +the worst." + +"The body of Paris, like that of Vulcan," said the countess. "Perhaps, +you knew Paris, by the bye?" + +"Perfectly, madame; he was a fine young man, but really did not deserve +all that has been said of him. In the first place, he had red hair." + +"Red hair, horrible!" + +"Unluckily, madame, Helen was not of your opinion: but to return to our +subject. You say, M. de Taverney, that all things exhaust themselves; +but you also know, that everything recovers again, regenerates, or is +replaced, whichever you please to call it. The famous knife of St. +Hubert, which so often changed both blade and handle, is an example, for +through every change it still remained the knife of St. Hubert. The +wines which the monks of Heidelberg preserve so carefully in their +cellars, remain still the same wine, although each year they pour into +it a fresh supply; therefore, this wine always remains clear, bright, +and delicious: while the wine which Opimus and I hid in the earthen jars +was, when I tried it a hundred years after, only a thick dirty +substance, which might have been eaten, but certainly could not have +been drunk. Well, I follow the example of the monks of Heidelberg, and +preserve my body by introducing into it every year new elements, which +regenerate the old. Every morning a new and fresh atom replaces in my +blood, my flesh, and my bones, some particle which has perished. I stay +that ruin which most men allow insensibly to invade their whole being, +and I force into action all those powers which God has given to every +human being, but which most people allow to lie dormant. This is the +great study of my life, and as, in all things, he who does one thing +constantly does that thing better than others, I am becoming more +skilful than others in avoiding danger. Thus, you would not get me to +enter a tottering house; I have seen too many houses not to tell at a +glance the safe from the unsafe. You would not see me go out hunting +with a man who managed his gun badly. From Cephalus, who killed his +wife, down to the regent, who shot the prince in the eye, I have seen +too many unskilful people. You could not make me accept in battle the +post which many a man would take without thinking, because I should +calculate in a moment the chances of danger at each point. You will tell +me that one cannot foresee a stray bullet; but the man who has escaped a +thousand gun-shots will hardly fall a victim to one now. Ah, you look +incredulous, but am I not a living proof? I do not tell you that I am +immortal, only that I know better than others how to avoid danger; for +instance, I would not remain here now alone with M. de Launay, who is +thinking that, if he had me in the Bastile, he would put my immortality +to the test of starvation; neither would I remain with M. de Condorcet, +for he is thinking that he might just empty into my glass the contents +of that ring which he wears on his left hand, and which is full of +poison--not with any evil intent, but just as a scientific experiment, +to see if I should die." + +The two people named looked at each other, and colored. + +"Confess, M. de Launay, we are not in a court of justice; besides, +thoughts are not punished. Did you not think what I said? And you, M. de +Condorcet, would you not have liked to let me taste the poison in your +ring, in the name of your beloved mistress, science?" + +"Indeed," said M. de Launay, laughing, "I confess you are right; it was +folly, but that folly did pass through my mind just before you accused +me." + +"And I," said M. de Condorcet, "will not be less candid. I did think +that if you tasted the contents of my ring, I would not give much for +your life." + +A cry of admiration burst from the rest of the party; these avowals +confirming not the immortality, but the penetration, of Count +Cagliostro. + +"You see," said Cagliostro, quietly, "that I divined these dangers; +well, it is the same with other things. The experience of a long life +reveals to me at a glance much of the past and of the future of those +whom I meet. My capabilities in this way extend even to animals and +inanimate objects. If I get into a carriage, I can tell from the look of +the horses if they are likely to run away; and from that of the +coachman, if he will overturn me. If I go on board ship, I can see if +the captain is ignorant or obstinate, and consequently likely to +endanger me. I should then leave the coachman or captain, escape from +those horses or that ship. I do not deny chance, I only lessen it, and +instead of incurring a hundred chances, like the rest of the world, I +prevent ninety-nine of them, and endeavor to guard against the +hundredth. This is the good of having lived three thousand years." + +"Then," said La Pérouse, laughing, amidst the wonder and enthusiasm +created by this speech of Cagliostro's, "you should come with me when I +embark to make the tour of the world; you would render me a signal +service." + +Cagliostro did not reply. + +"M. de Richelieu," continued La Pérouse, "as the Count Cagliostro, which +is very intelligible, does not wish to quit such good company, you must +permit me to do so without him. Excuse me, Count Haga, and you, madame, +but it is seven o'clock, and I have promised his majesty to start at a +quarter past. But since Count Cagliostro will not be tempted to come +with me, and see my ships, perhaps he can tell me what will happen to me +between Versailles and Brest. From Brest to the Pole I ask nothing; that +is my own business." + +Cagliostro looked at La Pérouse with such a melancholy air, so full both +of pity and kindness, that the others were struck by it. The sailor +himself, however, did not remark it. He took leave of the company, put +on his fur riding coat, into one of the pockets of which Madame Dubarry +pushed a bottle of delicious cordial, welcome to a traveler, but which +he would not have provided for himself, to recall to him, she said, his +absent friends during the long nights of a journey in such bitter cold. + +La Pérouse, still full of gaiety, bowed respectfully to Count Haga, and +held out his hand to the old marshal. + +"Adieu, dear La Pérouse," said the latter. + +"No, duke, au revoir," replied La Pérouse, "one would think I was going +away forever; now I have but to circumnavigate the globe--five or six +years' absence; it is scarcely worth while to say 'adieu' for that." + +"Five or six years," said the marshal; "you might almost as well say +five or six centuries; days are years at my age, therefore I say, +adieu." + +"Bah! ask the sorcerer," returned La Pérouse, still laughing; "he will +promise you twenty years' more life. Will you not, Count Cagliostro? Oh, +count, why did I not hear sooner of those precious drops of yours? +Whatever the price, I should have shipped a tun. Madame, another kiss of +that beautiful hand, I shall certainly not see such another till I +return; au revoir," and he left the room. + +Cagliostro still preserved the same mournful silence. They heard the +steps of the captain as he left the house, his gay voice in the +courtyard, and his farewells to the people assembled to see him depart. +Then the horses shook their heads, covered with bells, the door of the +carriage shut with some noise, and the wheels were heard rolling along +the street. + +La Pérouse had started on that voyage from which he was destined never +to return. + +When they could no longer hear a sound, all looks were again turned to +Cagliostro; there seemed a kind of inspired light in his eyes. + +Count Haga first broke the silence, which had lasted for some minutes. +"Why did you not reply to his question?" he inquired of Cagliostro. + +Cagliostro started, as if the question had roused him from a reverie. +"Because," said he, "I must either have told a falsehood or a sad +truth." + +"How so?" + +"I must have said to him,--'M. de la Pérouse, the duke is right in +saying to you adieu, and not au revoir.'" + +"Oh," said Richelieu, turning pale, "what do you mean?" + +"Reassure yourself, marshal, this sad prediction does not concern you." + +"What," cried Madame Dubarry, "this poor La Pérouse, who has just kissed +my hand----" + +"Not only, madame, will never kiss it again, but will never again see +those he has just left," said Cagliostro, looking attentively at the +glass of water he was holding up. + +A cry of astonishment burst from all. The interest of the conversation +deepened every moment, and you might have thought, from the solemn and +anxious air with which all regarded Cagliostro, that it was some ancient +and infallible oracle they were consulting. + +"Pray then, count," said Madame Dubarry, "tell us what will befall poor +La Pérouse." + +Cagliostro shook his head. + +"Oh, yes, let us hear!" cried all the rest. + +"Well, then, M. de la Pérouse intends, as you know, to make the tour of +the globe, and continue the researches of poor Captain Cook, who was +killed in the Sandwich Islands." + +"Yes, yes, we know." + +"Everything should foretell a happy termination to this voyage; M. de la +Pérouse is a good seaman, and his route has been most skilfully traced +by the king." + +"Yes," interrupted Count Haga, "the King of France is a clever +geographer; is he not, M. de Condorcet?" + +"More skilful than is needful for a king," replied the marquis; "kings +ought to know things only slightly, then they will let themselves be +guided by those who know them thoroughly." + +"Is this a lesson, marquis?" said Count Haga, smiling. + +"Oh, no. Only a simple reflection, a general truth." + +"Well, he is gone," said Madame Dubarry, anxious to bring the +conversation back to La Pérouse. + +"Yes, he is gone," replied Cagliostro, "but don't believe, in spite of +his haste, that he will soon embark. I foresee much time lost at Brest." + +"That would be a pity," said De Condorcet; "this is the time to set out: +it is even now rather late--February or March would have been better." + +"Oh, do not grudge him these few months, M. de Condorcet, for, during +them, he will at least live and hope." + +"He has got good officers, I suppose?" said Richelieu. + +"Yes, he who commands the second ship is a distinguished officer. I see +him--- young, adventurous, brave, unhappily." + +"Why unhappily?" + +"A year after I look for him, and see him no more," said Cagliostro, +anxiously consulting his glass. "No one here is related to M. de +Langle?" + +"No." + +"No one knows him?" + +"No." + +"Well, death will commence with him." + +A murmur of affright escaped from all the guests. + +"But he, La Pérouse?" cried several voices. + +"He sails, he lands, he reembarks; I see one, two years, of successful +navigation; we hear news of him, and then----" + +"Then?" + +"Years pass----" + +"But at last?" + +"The sea is vast, the heavens are clouded, here and there appear unknown +lands, and figures hideous as the monsters of the Grecian Archipelago. +They watch the ship, which is being carried in a fog amongst the +breakers, by a tempest less fearful than themselves. Oh! La Pérouse, La +Pérouse, if you could hear me, I would cry to you. You set out, like +Columbus, to discover a world; beware of unknown isles!" + +He ceased, and an icy shiver ran through the assembly. + +"But why did you not warn him?" asked Count Haga, who, in spite of +himself, had succumbed to the influence of this extraordinary man. + +"Yes," cried Madame Dubarry, "why not send after him and bring him back? +The life of a man like La Pérouse is surely worth a courier, my dear +marshal." + +The marshal rose to ring the bell. + +Cagliostro extended his arm to stop him. "Alas!" said he, "All advice +would be useless. I can foretell destiny, but I cannot change it. M. de +la Pérouse would laugh if he heard my words, as the son of Priam laughed +when Cassandra prophesied; and see, you begin to laugh yourself, Count +Haga, and laughing is contagious: your companions are catching it. Do +not restrain yourselves, gentlemen--I am accustomed to an incredulous +audience." + +"Oh, we believe," said Madame Dubarry and the Duke de Richelieu; "and I +believe," murmured Taverney; "and I also," said Count Haga politely. + +"Yes," replied Cagliostro, "you believe, because it concerns La +Pérouse; but, if I spoke of yourself, you would not believe." + +"I confess that what would have made me believe, would have been, if you +had said to him, 'Beware of unknown isles;' then he would, at least, +have had the chance of avoiding them." + +"I assure you no, count; and, if he had believed me, it would only have +been more horrible, for the unfortunate man would have seen himself +approaching those isles destined to be fatal to him, without the power +to flee from them. Therefore he would have died, not one, but a hundred +deaths, for he would have gone through it all by anticipation. Hope, of +which I should have deprived him, is what best sustains a man under all +trials." + +"Yes," said De Condorcet; "the veil which hides from us our future is +the only real good which God has vouchsafed to man." + +"Nevertheless," said Count Haga, "did a man like you say to me, shun a +certain man or a certain thing, I would beware, and I would thank you +for the counsel." + +Cagliostro shook his head, with a faint smile. + +"I mean it, M. de Cagliostro," continued Count Haga; "warn me, and I +will thank you." + +"You wish me to tell you what I would not tell La Pérouse?" + +"Yes, I wish it." + +Cagliostro opened his mouth as if to begin, and then stopped, and said, +"No, count, no!" + +"I beg you." + +Cagliostro still remained silent. + +"Take care," said the count, "you are making me incredulous." + +"Incredulity is better than misery." + +"M. de Cagliostro," said the count, gravely, "you forget one thing, +which is, that though there are men who had better remain ignorant of +their destiny, there are others who should know it, as it concerns not +themselves alone, but millions of others." + +"Then," said Cagliostro, "command me; if your majesty commands, I will +obey." + +"I command you to reveal to me my destiny, M. de Cagliostro," said the +king, with an air at once courteous and dignified. + +At this moment, as Count Haga had dropped his incognito in speaking to +Cagliostro, M. de Richelieu advanced towards him, and said, "Thanks, +sire, for the honor you have done my house; will your majesty assume the +place of honor?" + +"Let us remain as we are, marshal; I wish to hear what M. de Cagliostro +is about to say." + +"One does not speak the truth to kings, sire." + +"Bah! I am not in my kingdom; take your place again, duke. Proceed, M. +de Cagliostro, I beg." + +Cagliostro looked again through his glass, and one might have imagined +the particles agitated by this look, as they danced in, the light. +"Sire," said he, "tell me what you wish to know?" + +"Tell me by what death I shall die." + +"By a gun-shot, sire." + +The eyes of Gustavus grew bright. "Ah, in a battle!" said he; "the death +of a soldier! Thanks, M. de Cagliostro, a thousand times thanks; oh, I +foresee battles, and Gustavus Adolphus and Charles XII. have shown me +how a King of Sweden should die." + +Cagliostro drooped his head, without replying. + +"Oh!" cried Count Haga, "will not my wound then be given in battle?" + +"No, sire." + +"In a sedition?--yes, that is possible." + +"No, not in a sedition, sire." + +"But, where then?" + +"At a ball, sire." + +The king remained silent, and Cagliostro buried his head in his hands. + +Every one looked pale and frightened; then M. de Condorcet took the +glass of water and examined it, as if there he could solve the problem +of all that had been going on; but finding nothing to satisfy him, +"Well, I also," said he, "will beg our illustrious prophet to consult +for me his magic mirror: unfortunately, I am not a powerful lord; I +cannot command, and my obscure life concerns no millions of people." + +"Sir," said Count Haga, "you command in the name of science, and your +life belongs not only to a nation, but to all mankind." + +"Thanks," said De Condorcet; "but, perhaps, your opinion on this subject +is not shared by M. de Cagliostro." + +Cagliostro raised his head. "Yes, marquis," said he, in a manner which +began to be excited, "you are indeed a powerful lord in the kingdom of +intelligence; look me, then, in the face, and tell me, seriously, if you +also wish that I should prophesy to you." + +"Seriously, count, upon my honor." + +"Well, marquis," said Cagliostro, in a hoarse voice, "you will die of +that poison which you carry in your ring; you will die----" + +"Oh, but if I throw it away?" + +"Throw it away!" + +"You allow that that would be easy." + +"Throw it away!" + +"Oh, yes, marquis," cried Madame Dubarry; "throw away that horrid +poison! Throw it away, if it be only to falsify this prophet of evil, +who threatens us all with so many misfortunes. For if you throw it away +you cannot die by it, as M. de Cagliostro predicts; so there at least he +will have been wrong." + +"Madame la Comtesse is right," said Count Haga. + +"Bravo, countess!" said Richelieu. "Come, marquis, throw away that +poison, for now I know you carry it, I shall tremble every time we drink +together; the ring might open of itself, and----" + +"It is useless," said Cagliostro quietly; "M. de Condorcet will not +throw it away." + +"No," returned De Condorcet, "I shall not throw it away; not that I wish +to aid my destiny, but because this is a unique poison, prepared by +Cabanis, and which chance has completely hardened, and that chance might +never occur again; therefore I will not throw it away. Triumph if you +will, M. de Cagliostro." + +"Destiny," replied he, "ever finds some way to work out its own ends." + +"Then I shall die by poison," said the marquis; "well, so be it. It is +an admirable death, I think; a little poison on the tip of the tongue, +and I am gone. It is scarcely dying: it is merely ceasing to live." + +"It is not necessary for you to suffer, sir," said Cagliostro. + +"Then, sir," said M. de Favras, "we have a shipwreck, a gun-shot, and a +poisoning which makes my mouth water. Will you not do me the favor also +to predict some little pleasure of the same kind for me?" + +"Oh, marquis!" replied Cagliostro, beginning to grow warm under this +irony, "do not envy these gentlemen, you will have still better." + +"Better!" said M. de Favras, laughing; "that is pledging yourself to a +great deal. It is difficult to beat the sea, fire, and poison!" + +"There remains the cord, marquis," said Cagliostro, bowing. + +"The cord! what do you mean?" + +"I mean that you will be hanged," replied Cagliostro, seeming no more +the master of his prophetic rage. + +"Hanged! the devil!" cried Richelieu. + +"Monsieur forgets that I am a nobleman," said M. de Favras, coldly; "or +if he means to speak of a suicide, I warn him that I shall respect +myself sufficiently, even in my last moments, not to use a cord while I +have a sword." + +"I do not speak of a suicide, sir." + +"Then you speak of a punishment?" + +"Yes." + +"You are a foreigner, sir, and therefore I pardon you." + +"What?" + +"Your ignorance, sir. In France we decapitate noblemen." + +"You may arrange this, if you can, with the executioner," replied +Cagliostro. + +M. de Favras said no more. There was a general silence and shrinking for +a few minutes. + +"Do you know that I tremble at last," said M. de Launay; "my +predecessors have come off so badly, that I fear for myself if I now +take my turn." + +"Then you are more reasonable than they; you are right. Do not seek to +know the future; good or bad, let it rest--it is in the hands of God." + +"Oh! M. de Launay," said Madame Dubarry, "I hope you will not be less +courageous than the others have been." + +"I hope so, too, madame," said the governor. Then, turning to +Cagliostro, "Sir," he said, "favor me, in my turn, with my horoscope, if +you please." + +"It is easy," replied Cagliostro; "a blow on the head with a hatchet, +and all will be over." + +A look of dismay was once more general. Richelieu and Taverney begged +Cagliostro to say no more, but female curiosity carried the day. + +"To hear you talk, count," said Madame Dubarry, "one would think the +whole universe must die a violent death. Here we were, eight of us, and +five are already condemned by you." + +"Oh, you understand that it is all prearranged to frighten us, and we +shall only laugh at it," said M. de Favras, trying to do so. + +"Certainly we will laugh," said Count Haga, "be it true or false." + +"Oh, I will laugh too, then," said Madame Dubarry. "I will not dishonor +the assembly by my cowardice; but, alas! I am only a woman, I cannot +rank among you and be worthy of a tragical end; a woman dies in her bed. +My death, a sorrowful old woman abandoned by every one, will be the +worst of all. Will it not, M. de Cagliostro?" + +She stopped, and seemed to wait for the prophet to reassure her. +Cagliostro did not speak; so, her curiosity obtaining the mastery over +her fears, she went on. "Well, M. de Cagliostro, will you not answer +me?" + +"What do you wish me to say, madame?" + +She hesitated--then, rallying her courage, "Yes," she cried, "I will run +the risk. Tell me the fate of Jeanne de Vaubernier, Countess Dubarry." + +"On the scaffold, madame," replied the prophet of evil. + +"A jest, sir, is it not?" said she, looking at him with a supplicating +air. + +Cagliostro seemed not to see it. "Why do you think I jest?" said he. + +"Oh, because to die on the scaffold one must have committed some +crime--stolen, or committed murder, or done something dreadful; and it +is not likely I shall do that. It was a jest, was it not?" + +"Oh, mon Dieu, yes," said Cagliostro; "all I have said is but a jest." + +The countess laughed, but scarcely in a natural manner. "Come, M. de +Favras," said she, "let us order our funerals." + +"Oh, that will be needless for you, madame," said Cagliostro. + +"Why so, sir?" + +"Because you will go to the scaffold in a car." + +"Oh, how horrible! This dreadful man, marshal! for heaven's sake choose +more cheerful guests next time, or I will never visit you again." + +"Excuse me, madame," said Cagliostro, "but you, like all the rest, would +have me speak." + +"At least I hope you will grant me time to choose my confessor." + +"It will be superfluous, countess." + +"Why?" + +"The last person who will mount the scaffold in France with a confessor +will be the King of France." And Cagliostro pronounced these words in so +thrilling a voice that every one was struck with horror. + +All were silent. + +Cagliostro raised to his lips the glass of water in which he had read +these fearful prophecies, but scarcely had he touched it, when he set it +down with a movement of disgust. He turned his eyes to M. de Taverney. + +"Oh," cried he, in terror, "do not tell me anything; I do not wish to +know!" + +"Well, then, I will ask instead of him," said Richelieu. + +"You, marshal, be happy; you are the only one of us all who will die in +his bed." + +"Coffee, gentlemen, coffee," cried the marshal, enchanted with the +prediction. Every one rose. + +But before passing into the drawing-room, Count Haga, approaching +Cagliostro, said,-- + +"Tell me what to beware of." + +"Of a muff, sir," replied Cagliostro. + +"And I?" said Condorcet. + +"Of an omelet." + +"Good; I renounce eggs," and he left the room. + +"And I?" said M. de Favras; "what must I fear?" + +"A letter." + +"And I?" said De Launay. + +"The taking of the Bastile." + +"Oh, you quite reassure me." And he went away laughing. + +"Now for me, sir," said the countess, trembling. + +"You, beautiful countess, shun the Place Louis XV." + +"Alas," said the countess, "one day already I lost myself there; that +day I suffered much." + +She left the room, and Cagliostro was about to follow her when Richelieu +stopped him. + +"One moment," said he; "there remains only Taverney and I, my dear +sorcerer." + +"M. de Taverney begged me to say nothing, and you, marshal, have asked +me nothing." + +"Oh, I do not wish to hear," again cried Taverney. + +"But come, to prove your power, tell us something that only Taverney and +I know," said Richelieu. + +"What?" asked Cagliostro, smiling. + +"Tell us what makes Taverney come to Versailles, instead of living +quietly in his beautiful house at Maison-Rouge, which the king bought +for him three years ago." + +"Nothing more simple, marshal," said Cagliostro. "Ten years ago, M. de +Taverney wished to give his daughter, Mademoiselle Andrée, to the King +Louis XV., but he did not succeed." + +"Oh!" growled Taverney. + +"Now, monsieur wishes to give his son Philippe de Taverney, to the Queen +Marie Antoinette; ask him if I speak the truth." + +"On my word," said Taverney, trembling, "this man is a sorcerer; devil +take me if he is not!" + +"Do not speak so cavalierly of the devil, my old comrade," said the +marshal. + +"It is frightful," murmured Taverney, and he turned to implore +Cagliostro to be discreet, but he was gone. + +"Come, Taverney, to the drawing-room," said the marshal; "or they will +drink their coffee without us." + +But when they arrived there, the room was empty; no one had courage to +face again the author of these terrible predictions. + +The wax lights burned in the candelabra, the fire burned on the hearth, +but all for nothing. + +"Ma foi, old friend, it seems we must take our coffee tête-à-tête. Why, +where the devil has he gone?" Richelieu looked all around him, but +Taverney had vanished like the rest. "Never mind," said the marshal, +chuckling as Voltaire might have done, and rubbing his withered though +still white hands; "I shall be the only one to die in my bed. Well, +Count Cagliostro, at least I believe. In my bed! that was it; I shall +die in my bed, and I trust not for a long time. Hola! my +valet-de-chambre and my drops." + +The valet entered with the bottle, and the marshal went with him into +the bedroom. + + +END OF THE PROLOGUE. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +TWO UNKNOWN LADIES. + + +The winter of 1784, that monster which devoured half France, we could +not see, although he growled at the doors, while at the house of M. de +Richelieu, shut in as we were in that warm and comfortable dining-room. + +A little frost on the windows seems but the luxury of nature added to +that of man. Winter has its diamonds, its powder, and its silvery +embroidery for the rich man wrapped in his furs, and packed in his +carriage, or snug among the wadding and velvet of a well-warmed room. +Hoar-frost is a beauty, ice a change of decoration by the greatest of +artists, which the rich admire through their windows. He who is warm can +admire the withered trees, and find a somber charm in the sight of the +snow-covered plain. He who, after a day without suffering, when millions +of his fellow-creatures are enduring dreadful privations, throws himself +on his bed of down, between his fine and well-aired sheets, may find out +that all is for the best in this best of all possible worlds. + +But he who is hungry sees none of these beauties of nature; he who is +cold hates the sky without a sun, and consequently without a smile for +such unfortunates. Now, at the time at which we write, that is, about +the middle of the month of April, three hundred thousand miserable +beings, dying from cold and hunger, groaned in Paris alone--in that +Paris where, in spite of the boast that scarcely another city contained +so many rich people, nothing had been prepared to prevent the poor from +perishing of cold and wretchedness. + +For the last four months, the same leaden sky had driven the poor from +the villages into the town, as it sent the wolves from the woods into +the villages. + +No more bread. No more wood. + +No more bread for those who felt this cold--no more wood to cook it. All +the provisions which had been collected, Paris had devoured in a month. +The Provost, short-sighted and incapable, did not know how to procure +for Paris, which was under his care, the wood which might have been +collected in the neighborhood. When it froze, he said the frost +prevented the horses from bringing it; if it thawed, he pleaded want of +horses and conveyances. Louis XVI., ever good and humane, always ready +to attend to the physical wants of his people, although he overlooked +their social ones, began by contributing a sum of 200,000 francs for +horses and carts, and insisting on their immediate use. Still the demand +continued greater than the supply. At first no one was allowed to carry +away from the public timber-yard more than a cart-load of wood; then +they were limited to half this quantity. Soon the long strings of people +might be seen waiting outside the doors, as they were afterwards seen at +the bakers' shops. The king gave away the whole of his private income in +charity. He procured 3,000,000 francs by a grant and applied it to the +relief of the sufferers, declaring that every other need must give way +before that of cold and famine. The queen, on her part, gave 500 louis +from her purse. The convents, the hospitals, and the public buildings +were thrown open as places of asylum for the poor, who came in crowds +for the sake of the fires that were kept there. They kept hoping for a +thaw, but heaven seemed inflexible. Every evening the same +copper-colored sky disappointed their hopes; and the stars shone bright +and clear as funeral torches through the long, cold nights, which +hardened again and again the snow which fell during the day. All day +long, thousands of workmen, with spades and shovels, cleared away the +snow from before the houses; so that on each side of the streets, +already too narrow for the traffic, rose a high, thick wall, blocking up +the way. Soon these masses of snow and ice became so large that the +shops were obscured by them, and they were obliged to allow it to remain +where it fell. Paris could do no more. She gave in, and allowed the +winter to do its worst. December, January, February, and March passed +thus, although now and then a few days' thaw changed the streets, whose +sewers were blocked up, into running streams. Horses were drowned, and +carriages destroyed, in the streets, some of which could only be +traversed in boats. Paris, faithful to its character, sang through this +destruction by the thaw as it had done through that by famine. +Processions were made to the markets to see the fisherwomen serving +their customers with immense leathern boots on, inside which their +trousers were pushed, and with their petticoats tucked round their +waists, all laughing, gesticulating, and splashing each other as they +stood in the water. These thaws, however, were but transitory; the frost +returned, harder and more obstinate than ever, and recourse was had to +sledges, pushed along by skaters, or drawn by roughshod horses along the +causeways, which were like polished mirrors. The Seine, frozen many feet +deep, was become the rendezvous for all idlers, who assembled there to +skate or slide, until, warmed by exercise, they ran to the nearest fire, +lest the perspiration should freeze upon them. All trembled for the time +when, the water communications being stopped, and the roads impassable, +provisions could no longer be sent in, and began to fear that Paris +would perish from want. The king, in this extremity, called a council. +They decided to implore all bishops, abbés, and monks to leave Paris and +retire to their dioceses or convents; and all those magistrates and +officials who, preferring the opera to their duties, had crowded to +Paris, to return to their homes; for all these people used large +quantities of wood in their hotels, and consumed no small amount of +food. There were still the country gentlemen, who were also to be +entreated to leave. But M. Lenoir, lieutenant of police, observed to the +king that, as none of these people were criminals, and could not +therefore be compelled to leave Paris in a day, they would probably be +so long thinking about it, that the thaw would come before their +departure, which would then be more hurtful than useful. All this care +and pity of the king and queen, however, excited the ingenious +gratitude of the people, who raised monuments to them, as ephemeral as +the feelings which prompted them. Obelisks and pillars of snow and ice, +engraved with their names, were to be seen all over Paris. At the end of +March the thaw began, but by fits and starts, constant returns of frost +prolonging the miseries of the people. Indeed, in the beginning of April +it appeared to set in harder than ever, and the half-thawed streets, +frozen again, became so slippery and dangerous, that nothing was seen +but broken limbs and accidents of all kinds. The snow prevented the +carriages from being heard, and the police had enough to do, from the +reckless driving of the aristocracy, to preserve from the wheels those +who were spared by cold and hunger. + +It was about a week after the dinner given by M. de Richelieu that four +elegant sledges entered Paris, gliding over the frozen snow which +covered the Cours la Reine and the extremity of the boulevards. From +thence they found it more difficult to proceed, for the sun and the +traffic had begun to change the snow and ice into a wet mass of dirt. + +In the foremost sledge were two men in brown riding coats with double +capes. They were drawn by a black horse, and turned from time to time, +as if to watch the sledge that followed them, and which contained two +ladies so enveloped in furs that it was impossible to see their faces. +It might even have been difficult to distinguish their sex, had it not +been for the height of their coiffure, crowning which was a small hat +with a plume of feathers. From the colossal edifice of this coiffure, +all mingled with ribbons and jewels, escaped occasionally a cloud of +white powder, as when a gust of wind shakes the snow from the trees. + +These two ladies, seated side by side, were conversing so earnestly as +scarcely to see the numerous spectators who watched their progress along +the boulevards. One of them taller and more majestic than the other, and +holding up before her face a finely-embroidered cambric handkerchief, +carried her head erect and stately, in spite of the wind which swept +across their sledge. + +It had just struck five by the clock of the church St. Croix d'Antin and +night was beginning to descend upon Paris, and with the night the bitter +cold. They had just reached the Porte St. Denis, when the lady of whom +we have spoken made a sign to the men in front, who thereupon quickened +the pace of their horse, and soon disappeared among the evening mists, +which were fast thickening around the colossal structure of the Bastile. + +This signal she then repeated to the other two sledges, which also +vanished along the Rue St. Denis. Meanwhile, the one in which she sat, +having arrived at the Boulevard de Menilmontant, stopped. + +In this place few people were to be seen; night had dispersed them. +Besides, in this out-of-the-way quarter, not many citizens would trust +themselves without torches and an escort, since winter had sharpened the +wants of three or four thousand beggars who were easily changed into +robbers. + +The lady touched with her finger the shoulder of the coachman who was +driving her, and said, "Weber, how long will it take you to bring the +cabriolet you know where?" + +"Madame wishes me to bring the cabriolet?" asked the coachman, with a +strong German accent. + +"Yes, I shall return by the streets; and as they are still more muddy +than the boulevard, we should not get on in the sledge; besides, I begin +to feel the cold. Do not you, petite?" said she, turning to the other +lady. + +"Yes, madame." + +"Then, Weber, we will have the cabriolet." + +"Very well, madame." + +"What is the time, petite?" + +The young lady looked at her watch, which, however, she could hardly +see, as it was growing dark, and said, "A quarter to six, madame." + +"Then at a quarter to seven, Weber." + +Saying these words, the lady leaped lightly from the sledge, followed +by her friend, and walked away quickly; while the coachman murmured, +with a kind of respectful despair, sufficiently loud for his mistress to +hear, "Oh, mein Gott! what imprudence." + +The two ladies laughed, drew their cloaks closer round them, and went +tramping along through the snow, with their little feet. + +"You have good eyes, Andrée," said the lady who seemed the elder of the +two, although she could not have been more than thirty or thirty-two; +"try to read the name at the corner of that street." + +"Rue du Pont-aux-Choux, madame." + +"Rue du Pont-aux-Choux! ah, mon Dieu, we must have come wrong. They told +me the second street on the right;--but what a smell of hot bread!" + +"That is not astonishing," said her companion, "for here is a baker's +shop." + +"Well, let us ask there for the Rue St. Claude," she said, moving to the +door. + +"Oh! do not you go in, madame; allow me," said Andrée. + +"The Rue St. Claude, my pretty ladies?" said a cheerful voice. "Are you +asking for the Rue St. Claude?" + +The two ladies turned towards the voice, and saw, leaning against the +door of the shop, a man who, in spite of the cold, had his chest and his +legs quite bare. + +"Oh! a naked man!" cried the young lady, half hiding behind her +companion; "are we among savages?" + +"Was not that what you asked for?" said the journeyman baker, for such +he was, who did not understand her movement in the least, and, +accustomed to his own costume, never dreamed of its effect upon them. + +"Yes, my friend, the Rue St. Claude," said the elder lady, hardly able +to keep from laughing. + +"Oh, it is not difficult to find; besides, I will conduct you there +myself;" and, suiting the action to the words, he began to move his long +bony legs, which terminated in immense wooden shoes. + +"Oh, no!" cried the elder lady, who did not fancy such a guide; "pray +do not disturb yourself. Tell us the way, and we shall easily find it." + +"First street to the right," said he, drawing back again. + +"Thanks," said the ladies, who ran on as fast as they could, that he +might not hear the laughter which they could no longer restrain. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +AN INTERIOR. + + +If we do not calculate too much on the memory of our readers, they +certainly know the Rue St. Claude, which joins at one end the boulevard, +and at the other the Rue St. Louis; this was an important street in the +first part of our story, when it was inhabited by Joseph Balsamo, his +sibyl, Lorenza, and his master, Althotas. It was still a respectable +street, though badly lighted, and by no means clean, but little known or +frequented. + +There was, however, at the corner of the boulevard a large house, with +an aristocratic air; but this house, which might, from the number of its +windows, have illuminated the whole street, had it been lighted up, was +the darkest and most somber-looking of any. The door was never seen to +open; and the windows were thick with dust, which seemed never +disturbed. Sometimes an idler, attracted by curiosity, approached the +gates and peeped through; all he could see, however, were masses of +weeds growing between the stones of the courtyard, and green moss +spreading itself over everything. Occasionally an enormous rat, sole +inmate of those deserted domains, ran across the yard, on his way to his +usual habitation in the cellars, which seemed, however, to be an excess +of modesty, when he had the choice of so many fine sitting-rooms, where +he need never fear the intrusion of a cat. + +At times, one or two of the neighbors, passing the house, might stop to +take a survey, and one would say to the other: + +"Well, what do you see?" + +"Why," he would reply, "I see the rat." + +"Oh! let me look at him. How fat he has grown!" + +"That is not to be wondered at; he is never disturbed; and there must be +some good pickings in the house. M. de Balsamo disappeared so suddenly, +that he must have left something behind." + +"But you forget that the house was half burned down." + +And they would pursue their way. + +Opposite this ruin was a high narrow house inclosed within a garden +wall. From the upper windows, a light was to be seen; the rest was +shrouded in darkness. Either all the inhabitants were already asleep, or +they were very economical of wood and candles, which certainly were +frightfully dear this winter. It is, however, with the fifth story only +that we have any business. + +We must, in the first place, take a survey of the house, and, ascending +the staircase, open the first door. This room is empty and dark, +however, but it opens into another of which the furniture deserves our +attention. + +The doors were gaudily painted, and it contained easy chairs covered in +white, with yellow velvet trimming, and a sofa to match; the cushions of +which, however, were so full of the wrinkles of old age as scarcely to +be cushions any longer. Two portraits hanging on the walls next +attracted attention. A candle and a lamp--one placed on a stand, about +three feet high, and the other on the chimney-piece--threw a constant +light on them. + +The first was a well-known portrait of Henry III., King of France and +Poland; a cap on his head, surmounting his long pale face and heavy +eyes; a pointed beard, and a ruff round his neck. + +Under it was the inscription, traced in black letters, on a badly-gilded +frame, "Henri de Valois." + +The other portrait, of which the gilding was newer, and the painting +more fresh and recent, represented a young lady with black eyes, a +straight nose, and rather compressed lips, who appeared crushed under a +tower of hair and ribbons, to which the cap of Henry III. was in the +proportion of a mole-hill to a pyramid. + +Under this portrait was inscribed, "Jeanne de Valois." + +Glance at the fireless hearth, at the faded curtains, and then turn +towards a little oak table in the corner; for there, leaning on her +elbow, and writing the addresses of some letters, sits the original of +this portrait. + +A few steps off, in an attitude half curious, half respectful, stands a +little old woman, apparently about sixty. + +"Jeanne de Valois," says the inscription; but if this lady be indeed a +Valois, one wonders however the portrait of Henry III., the sybarite +king, the great voluptuary, could support the sight of so much poverty +in a person not only of his race, but bearing his name. + +In her person, however, this lady of the fifth story did no discredit to +her portrait. She had white and delicate hands, which from time to time +she rubbed together, as if to endeavor to put some warmth into them; her +foot also, which was encased in a rather coquettish velvet slipper, was +small and pretty. + +The wind whistled through all the old doors, and penetrated the crevices +of the shaking windows; and the old servant kept glancing sadly towards +the empty grate. Her lady continued her occupation, talking aloud as she +did so. + +"Madame de Misery," she murmured; "first lady of the bedchamber to her +majesty--I cannot expect more than six louis from her, for she has +already given to me once." And she sighed. "Madame Patrick, lady's-maid +to her majesty, two louis; M. d'Ormesson, an audience; M. de Calonne, +some good advice, M. de Rohan, a visit; at least, we will try to induce +him," said she, smiling at the thought. "Well, then, I think I may hope +for eight louis within a week." Then, looking up, "Dame Clotilde," she +said, "snuff this candle." + +The old woman did as she was bid, and then resumed her place. This kind +of inquisition seemed to annoy the young lady, for she said, "Pray go +and look if you cannot find the end of a wax candle for me; this tallow +is odious." + +"There is none," replied the old woman. + +"But just look." + +"Where?" + +"In the ante-chamber." + +"It is so cold there." + +"There is some one ringing," said the young lady. + +"Madame is mistaken," replied the obstinate old woman. + +"I thought I heard it, Dame Clotilde;" then, abandoning the attempt, she +turned again to her calculations. "Eight louis! Three I owe for the +rent, and five I have promised to M. de la Motte, to make him support +his stay at Bar-sur-Aube. Pauvre diable, our marriage has not enriched +him as yet--but patience;" and she smiled again, and looked at herself +in the mirror that hung between the two portraits. "Well, then," she +continued, "I still want one louis for going from Versailles to Paris +and back again; living for a week, one louis; dress, and gifts to the +porters of the houses where I go, four louis; but," said she, starting +up, "some one is ringing!" + +"No, madame," replied the old woman. "It is below, on the next floor." + +"But I tell you it is not," said she angrily, as the bell rang yet +louder. + +Even the old woman could deny it no longer; so she hobbled off to open +the door, while her mistress rapidly cleared away all the papers, and +seated herself on the sofa, assuming the air of a person humble and +resigned, although suffering. + +It was, however, only her body that reposed; for her eyes, restless and +unquiet, sought incessantly, first her mirror and then the door. + +At last it opened, and she heard a young and sweet voice saying, "Is it +here that Madame la Comtesse de la Motte lives?" + +"Madame la Comtesse de la Motte Valois," replied Clotilde. + +"It is the same person, my good woman; is she at home?" + +"Yes, madame; she is too ill to go out." + +During this colloquy, the pretended invalid saw reflected in the glass +the figure of a lady talking to Clotilde, unquestionably belonging to +the higher ranks. She then saw her turn round, and say to some one +behind, "We can go in--it is here." + +And the two ladies we have before seen asking the way prepared to enter +the room. + +"Whom shall I announce to the countess?" said Clotilde. + +"Announce a Sister of Charity," said the elder lady. + +"From Paris?" + +"No; from Versailles." + +Clotilde entered the room, and the strangers followed her. + +Jeanne de Valois seemed to rise with difficulty from her seat to receive +her visitors. + +Clotilde placed chairs for them, and then unwillingly withdrew. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +JEANNE DE LA MOTTE VALOIS. + + +The first thought of Jeanne de la Motte was to examine the faces of her +visitors, so as to gather what she could of their characters. The elder +lady, who might have been, as we have said, about thirty-two years of +age, was remarkably beautiful, although, at first sight, a great air of +hauteur detracted slightly from the charm of her expression; her +carriage was so proud, and her whole appearance so distingué that Jeanne +could not doubt her nobility, even at a cursory glance. + +She, however, seemed purposely to place herself as far as possible from +the light, so as to be little seen. + +Her companion appeared four or five years younger, and was not less +beautiful. Her complexion was charming; her hair, drawn back from her +temples, showed to advantage the perfect oval of her face; two large +blue eyes, calm and serene; a well-formed mouth, indicating great +frankness of disposition; a nose that rivaled the Venus de Medicis; such +was the other face which presented itself to the gaze of Jeanne de +Valois. + +She inquired gently to what happy circumstance she owed the honor of +their visit. + +The elder lady signed to the younger, who thereupon said, "Madame, for I +believe you are married----" + +"I have the honor to be the wife of M. le Comte de la Motte, an +excellent gentleman." + +"Well, Madame la Comtesse, we are at the head of a charitable +institution, and have heard concerning your condition things that +interest us, and we consequently wished to have more precise details on +the subject." + +"Mesdames," replied Jeanne, "you see there the portrait of Henry III., +that is to say, of the brother of my grandfather, for I am truly of the +race of Valois, as you have doubtless been told." And she waited for the +next question, looking at her visitors with a sort of proud humility. + +"Madame," said the grave and sweet voice of the elder lady, "is it true, +as we have also heard, that your mother was housekeeper at a place +called Fontelle, near Bar-sur-Seine?" + +Jeanne colored at this question, but replied, "It is true, madame; and," +she went on, "as Marie Jossel, my mother, was possessed of rare beauty, +my father fell in love with her, and married her, for it is by my father +that I am nobly descended; he was a St. Rémy de Valois, direct +descendant of the Valois who were on the throne." + +"But how have you been reduced to this degree of poverty, madame?" + +"Alas! that is easily told. You are not ignorant that after the +accession of Henry IV., by which the crown passed from the house of +Valois to that of Bourbon, there still remained many branches of the +fallen family, obscure, doubtless, but incontestably springing from the +same root as the four brothers who all perished so miserably." + +The two ladies made a sign of assent. + +"Then," continued Jeanne, "these remnants of the Valois, fearing, in +spite of their obscurity, to be obnoxious to the reigning family, +changed their name of Valois into that of St. Rémy, which they took from +some property, and they may be traced under this name down to my father, +who, seeing the monarchy so firmly established, and the old branch +forgotten, thought he need no longer deprive himself of his illustrious +name, and again called himself Valois, which name he bore in poverty and +obscurity in a distant province, while no one at the court of France +even knew of the existence of this descendant of their ancient kings." + +Jeanne stopped at these words, which she had spoken with a simplicity +and mildness which created a favorable impression. + +"You have, doubtless, your proofs already arranged, madame," said the +elder lady, with kindness. + +"Oh, madame," she replied, with a bitter smile, "proofs are not +wanting--my father arranged them, and left them to me as his sole +legacy; but of what use are proofs of a truth which no one will +recognize?" + +"Your father is then dead?" asked the younger lady. + +"Alas! yes." + +"Did he die in the provinces?" + +"No, madame." + +"At Paris, then?" + +"Yes." + +"In this room?" + +"No, madame; my father, Baron de Valois, great-nephew of the King Henry +III., died of misery and hunger; and not even in this poor retreat, not +in his own bed, poor as that was. No; my father died side by side with +the suffering wretches in the Hôtel Dieu!" + +The ladies uttered an exclamation of surprise and distress. + +"From what you tell me, madame, you have experienced, it is evident, +great misfortunes; above all, the death of your father." + +"Oh, if you heard all the story of my life, madame, you would see that +my father's death does not rank among its greatest misfortunes." + +"How, madame! You regard as a minor evil the death of your father?" said +the elder lady, with a frown. + +"Yes, madame; and in so doing I speak only as a pious daughter, for my +father was thereby delivered from all the ills which he experienced in +this life, and which continue to assail his family. I experience, in the +midst of the grief which his death causes me, a certain joy in knowing +that the descendant of kings is no longer obliged to beg his bread." + +"To beg his bread?" + +"Yes, madame; I say it without shame, for in all our misfortunes there +was no blame to my father or myself." + +"But you do not speak of your mother?" + +"Well, with the same frankness with which I told you just now that I +blessed God for taking my father, I complain that He left me my mother." + +The two ladies looked at each other, almost shuddering at these strange +words. + +"Would it be indiscreet, madame, to ask you for a more detailed account +of your misfortunes?" + +"The indiscretion, madame, would be in me, if I fatigued you with such a +long catalogue of woes." + +"Speak, madame," said the elder lady, so commandingly, that her +companion looked at her, as if to warn her to be more guarded. Indeed, +Madame de la Motte had been struck with this imperious accent, and +stared at her with some astonishment. + +"I listen, madame," she then said, in a more gentle tone; "if you will +be good enough to inform us what we ask." + +Her companion saw her shiver as she spoke, and fearing she felt cold, +pushed towards her a rug, on which to place her feet, and which she had +discovered under one of the chairs. + +"Keep it yourself, my sister," said she, pushing it back again. "You are +more delicate than I." + +"Indeed, madame," said Jeanne, "it grieves me much to see you suffer +from the cold; but wood is now so dear, and my stock was exhausted a +week ago." + +"You said, madame, that you were unhappy in having a mother," said the +elder lady, returning to the subject. + +"Yes, madame. Doubtless, such a blasphemy shocks you much, does it not?" +said Jeanne; "but hear my explanation. I have already had the honor to +tell you that my father made a mésalliance, and married his housekeeper. +Marie Jossel, my mother, instead of feeling gratified and proud of the +honor he had done her, began by ruining my father, which certainly was +not difficult to a person determined to consult only her own pleasures. +And having reduced him to sell all his remaining property, she induced +him to go to Paris to claim the rights to which his name entitled him. +My father was easily persuaded; perhaps he hoped in the justice of the +king. He came then, having first turned all he possessed into money. He +had, besides me, another daughter, and a son. + +"His son, unhappy as myself, vegetates in the lowest ranks of the army; +the daughter, my poor sister, was abandoned, on the evening of our +departure, before the house of a neighboring farmer. + +"The journey exhausted our little resources--my father wore himself out +in fruitless appeals--we scarcely ever saw him--our house was +wretched--and my mother, to whom a victim was necessary, vented her +discontent and ill-humor upon me: she even reproached me with what I +ate, and for the slightest fault I was unmercifully beaten. The +neighbors, thinking to serve me, told my father of the treatment I +experienced. He endeavored to protect me, but his interference only +served to embitter her still more against me. + +"At last my father fell ill, and was confined first to the house, and +then to his bed. My mother banished me from his room on the pretext that +I disturbed him. She made me now learn a sentence, which, child as I +was, I shrank from saying; but she would drive me out into the street +with blows, ordering me to repeat it to each passer-by, if I did not +wish to be beaten to death." + +"And what was this sentence?" asked the elder lady. + +"It was this, madame: 'Have pity on a little orphan, who descends in a +direct line from Henri de Valois.'" + +"What a shame!" cried the ladies. + +"But what effect did this produce on the people?" inquired Andrée. + +"Some listened and pitied me, others were angry and menaced me; some +kind people stopped and warned me that I ran a great risk from repeating +such words; but I knew no other danger than that of disobeying my +mother. The result was, however, as she hoped: I generally brought home +a little money, which kept us for a time from starvation or the +hospital; but this life became so odious to me, that at last, one day, +instead of repeating my accustomed phrase, I sat on a doorstep all the +time, and returned in the evening empty-handed. My mother beat me so +that the next day I fell ill; then my poor father, deprived of all +resources, was obliged to go to the Hôtel Dieu, where he died." + +"Oh! what a horrible history," cried the ladies. + +"What became of you after your father's death?" asked the elder lady. + +"God took pity upon me a month after my father's death, my mother ran +away with a soldier, abandoning my brother and me. We felt ourselves +relieved by her departure, and lived on public charity, although we +never begged for more than enough to eat. One day, I saw a carriage +going slowly along the Faubourg Saint Marcel. There were four footmen +behind, and a beautiful lady inside; I held out my hand to her for +charity. She questioned me, and my reply and my name seemed to strike +her with surprise. She asked for my address, and the next day made +inquiries, and finding that I had told her the truth, she took charge +of my brother and myself; she placed my brother in the army, and me with +a dressmaker." + +"Was not this lady Madame de Boulainvilliers?" + +"It was." + +"She is dead, I believe?" + +"Yes; and her death deprived me of my only protector." + +"Her husband still lives, and is rich." + +"Ah, madame, it is to him that I owe my later misfortunes. I had grown +tall, and, as he thought, pretty, and he wished to put a price upon his +benefits which I refused to pay. Meanwhile, Madame de Boulainvilliers +died, having first married me to a brave and loyal soldier, M. de la +Motte, but, separated from him, I seemed more abandoned after her death +than I had been after that of my father. This is my history, madame, +which I have shortened as much as possible, in order not to weary you." + +"Where, then, is your husband?" asked the elder lady. + +"He is in garrison at Bar-sur-Aube; he serves in the gendarmerie, and is +waiting, like myself, in hopes of better times." + +"But you have laid your case before the court?" + +"Undoubtedly." + +"The name of Valois must have awakened some sympathy." + +"I know not, madame, what sentiments it may have awakened, for I have +received no answer to any of my petitions." + +"You have seen neither the ministers, the king, nor the queen?" + +"No one. Everywhere I have failed." + +"You cannot now beg, however." + +"No, madame; I have lost the habit; but I can die of hunger, like my +poor father." + +"You have no child?" + +"No, madame; and my husband, by getting killed in the service of his +king, will find for himself a glorious end to all our miseries." + +"Can you, madame--I beg pardon if I seem intrusive--but can you bring +forward the proofs of your genealogy?" + +Jeanne rose, opened a drawer, and drew out some papers, which she +presented to the lady, who rose to come nearer the light, that she might +examine them; but seeing that Jeanne eagerly seized this opportunity to +observe her more clearly than she had yet been able to do, she turned +away as if the light hurt her eyes, turning her back to Madame de la +Motte. + +"But," said she, at last, "these are only copies." + +"Oh! madame, I have the originals safe, and am ready to produce them." + +"If any important occasion should present itself, I suppose?" said the +lady, smiling. + +"It is, doubtless, madame, an important occasion which procures me the +honor of your visit, but these papers are so precious----" + +"That you cannot show them to the first comer. I understand you." + +"Oh, madame!" cried the countess; "you shall see them;" and opening a +secret drawer above the other, she drew out the originals, which were +carefully inclosed in an old portfolio, on which were the arms of the +Valois. + +The lady took them, and after examining them, said, "You are right; +these are perfectly satisfactory, and you must hold yourself in +readiness to produce them when called upon by proper authority." + +"And what do you think I may expect, madame?" asked Jeanne. + +"Doubtless a pension for yourself, and advancement for M. de la Motte, +if he prove worthy of it." + +"My husband is an honorable man, madame, and has never failed in his +military duties." + +"It is enough, madame," said the lady, drawing her hood still more over +her face. She then put her hand in her pocket, and drew out first the +same embroidered handkerchief with which we before saw her hiding her +face when in the sledge, then a small roll about an inch in diameter, +and three or four in length, which she placed on the chiffonier, saying, +"The treasurer of our charity authorizes me, madame, to offer you this +small assistance, until you shall obtain something better." + +Madame de la Motte threw a rapid glance at the little roll. "Three-franc +pieces," thought she, "and there must be nearly a hundred of them; what +a boon from heaven." + +While she was thus thinking, the two ladies moved quickly into the outer +room, where Clotilde had fallen asleep in her chair. + +The candle was burning out in the socket, and the smell which came from +it made the ladies draw out their smelling-bottles. Jeanne woke +Clotilde, who insisted on following them with the obnoxious candle-end. + +"Au revoir, Madame la Comtesse," said they. + +"Where may I have the honor of coming to thank you?" asked Jeanne. + +"We will let you know," replied the elder lady, going quickly down the +stairs. + +Madame de la Motte ran back into her room, impatient to examine her +rouleau, but her foot struck against something, and stooping to pick it +up, she saw a small flat gold box. + +She was some time before she could open it, but having at last found the +spring, it flew open and disclosed the portrait of a lady possessing no +small beauty. The coiffure was German, and she wore a collar like an +order. An M and a T encircled by a laurel wreath ornamented the inside +of the box. Madame de la Motte did not doubt, from the resemblance of +the portrait to the lady who had just left her, that it was that of her +mother, or some near relation. + +She ran to the stairs to give it back to them; but hearing the +street-door shut, she ran back, thinking to call them from the window, +but arrived there only in time to see a cabriolet driving rapidly away. +She was therefore obliged to keep the box for the present, and turned +again to the little rouleau. + +When she opened it, she uttered a cry of joy, "Double louis, fifty +double louis, two thousand and four hundred francs!" and transported at +the sight of more gold than she had ever seen before in her life, she +remained with clasped hands and open lips. "A hundred louis," she +repeated; "these ladies are then very rich. Oh! I will find them again." + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +BELUS. + + +Madame de la Motte was not wrong in thinking that the cabriolet which +she saw driving off contained the two ladies who had just left her. + +They had, in fact, found it waiting for them on their exit. It was +lightly built, open and fashionable, with high wheels, and a place +behind for a servant to stand. It was drawn by a magnificent bay horse +of Irish breed, short-tailed, and plump, which was driven by the same +man whom we have already heard addressed by the name of Weber. The horse +had become so impatient with waiting, that it was with some difficulty +that Weber kept him stationary. + +When he saw the ladies, he said, "Madame, I intended to bring Scipio, +who is gentle and easy to manage, but unluckily he received an injury +last evening, and I was forced to bring Bélus, and he is rather +unmanageable." + +"Oh, Weber, I do not mind in the least," said the lady; "I am well used +to driving, and not at all timid." + +"I know how well madame drives, but the roads are so bad. Where are we +to go?" + +"To Versailles." + +"By the boulevards then, madame?" + +"No, Weber; it freezes hard, and the boulevards will be dreadful; the +streets will be better." + +He held the horse for the ladies to get in, then jumped up behind, and +they set off at a rapid pace. + +"Well, Andrée, what do you think of the countess?" asked the elder lady. + +"I think, madame," she replied, "that Madame de la Motte is poor and +unfortunate." + +"She has good manners, has she not?" + +"Yes, doubtless." + +"You are somewhat cold about her, Andrée." + +"I must confess, there is a look of cunning in her face that does not +please me." + +"Oh, you are always difficult to please, Andrée; to please you, one must +have every good quality. Now, I find the little countess interesting and +simple, both in her pride and in her humility." + +"It is fortunate for her, madame, that she has succeeded in pleasing +you." + +"Take care!" cried the lady, at the same time endeavoring to check her +horse, which nearly ran over a street-porter at the corner of the Rue +St. Antoine. + +"Gare!" shouted Weber, in the voice of the Stentor. + +They heard the man growling and swearing, in which he was joined by +several people near, but Bélus soon carried them away from the sound, +and they quickly reached the Place Baudoyer. + +From thence the skilful conductress continued her rapid course down the +Rue de la Tisseranderie, a narrow unaristocratic street, always crowded. +Thus, in spite of the reiterated warnings of herself and Weber, the +numbers began to increase around them, many of whom cried fiercely, "Oh! +the cabriolet! down with the cabriolet!" + +Bélus, however, guided by the steady hand which held the reins, kept on +his rapid course, and not the smallest accident had yet occurred. + +But in spite of this skilful progress, the people seemed discontented at +the rapid course of the cabriolet, which certainly required some care on +their part to avoid, and the lady, perhaps half frightened at the +murmurs, and knowing the present excited state of the people, only +urged on her horse the faster to escape from them. + +Thus they proceeded until they reached the Rue du Coq St. Honoré, and +here had been raised one of the most beautiful of those monuments in +snow of which we have spoken. + +Round this a great crowd had collected, and they were obliged to stop +until the people would make an opening for them to pass, which they did +at last, but with great grumbling and discontent. + +The next obstacle was at the gates of the Palais Royal, where, in a +courtyard, which had been thrown open, were a host of beggars crowding +round fires which had been lighted there, and receiving soup, which the +servants of M. le Duc d'Orleans were distributing to them in earthen +basins; and as in Paris a crowd collects to see everything, the number +of the spectators of this scene far exceeded that of the actors. + +Here, then, they were again obliged to stop, and to their dismay, began +to hear distinctly from behind loud cries of "Down with the cabriolet! +down with those that crush the poor!" + +"Can it be that those cries are addressed to us?" said the elder lady to +her companion. + +"Indeed, madame, I fear so," she replied. + +"Have we, do you think, run over any one?" + +"I am sure you have not." + +But still the cries seemed to increase. A crowd soon gathered round +them, and some even seized Bélus by the reins, who thereupon began to +stamp and foam most furiously. + +"To the magistrate! to the magistrate!" cried several voices. + +The two ladies looked at each other in terror. Curious heads began to +peep under the apron of the cabriolet. + +"Oh, they are women," cried some; "Opera girls, doubtless," said others, +"who think they have a right to crush the poor because they receive ten +thousand francs a month." + +A general shout hailed these words, and they began again to cry, "To the +magistrate!" + +The younger lady shrank back trembling with fear; the other looked +around her with wonderful resolution, though with frowning brows and +compressed lips. + +"Oh, madame," cried her companione, "for heaven's sake, take care!" + +"Courage, Andrée, courage!" she replied. + +"But they will recognize you, madame." + +"Look through the windows, if Weber is still behind the cabriolet." + +"He is trying to get down, but the mob surrounds him. Ah! here he +comes." + +"Weber," said the lady in German, "we will get out." + +The man vigorously pushed aside those nearest the carriage, and opened +the door. The ladies jumped out, and the crowd instantly seized on the +horse and cabriolet, which would evidently soon be in pieces. + +"What in heaven's name does it all mean? Do you understand it, Weber?" +said the lady, still in German. + +"Ma foi, no, madame," he replied, struggling to free a passage for them +to pass. + +"But they are not men, they are wild beasts," continued the lady; "with +what do they possibly reproach me?" + +She was answered by a voice, whose polite and gentlemanly tone +contrasted strangely with the savage murmurs of the people, and which +said in excellent German, "They reproach you, madame, with having braved +the police order, which appeared this morning, and which prohibited all +cabriolets, which are always dangerous, and fifty times more so in this +frost, when people can hardly escape fast enough, from driving through +the streets until the spring." + +The lady turned, and saw she was addressed by a young officer, whose +distinguished and pleasing air, and fine figure, could not but make a +favorable impression. + +"Oh, mon Dieu, monsieur," she said, "I was perfectly ignorant of this +order." + +"You are a foreigner, madame?" inquired the young officer. + +"Yes, sir; but tell me what I must do? they are destroying my +cabriolet." + +"You must let them destroy it, and take advantage of that time to +escape. The people are furious just now against all the rich, and on the +pretext of your breaking this regulation would conduct you before the +magistrate." + +"Oh, never!" cried Andrée. + +"Then," said the officer, laughing, "profit by the space which I shall +make in the crowd, and vanish." + +The ladies gathered from his manner that he shared the opinion of the +people as to their station, but it was no time for explanations. + +"Give us your arm to a cab-stand," said the elder lady, in a voice full +of authority. + +"I was going to make your horse rear, and thereby clear you a passage," +said the young man, who did not much wish to take the charge of +escorting them through the crowd; "the people will become yet more +enraged, if they hear us speaking in a language unknown to them." + +"Weber," cried the lady, in a firm voice, "make Bélus rear to disperse +the crowd." + +"And then, madame?" + +"Remain till we are gone." + +"But they will destroy the carriage." + +"Let them; what does that matter? save Bélus if you can, but yourself +above all." + +"Yes, madame;" and a slight touch to the horse soon produced the desired +effect of dispersing the nearest part of the crowd, and throwing down +those who held by his reins. + +"Your arm, sir!" again said the lady to the officer; "come on, petite," +turning to Andrée. + +"Let us go then, courageous woman," said the young man, giving his arm, +with real admiration, to her who asked for it. + +In a few minutes he had conducted them to a cab-stand, but the men were +all asleep on their seats. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +THE ROAD TO VERSAILLES. + + +The ladies were free from the crowd for the present, but there was some +danger that they might be followed and recognized, when the same tumult +would doubtless be renewed and escape a second time be more difficult. +The young officer knew this, and therefore hastened to awaken one of the +half-frozen and sleepy men. So stupefied, however, did they seem, that +he had great difficulty in rousing one of them. At last he took him by +the collar and shook him roughly. + +"Gently, gently!" cried the man, sitting up. + +"Where do you wish to go, ladies?" asked the officer. + +"To Versailles," said the elder lady, still speaking German. + +"Oh, to Versailles!" repeated the coachman; "four miles and a half over +this ice. No, I would rather not." + +"We will pay well," said the lady. + +This was repeated to the coachman in French by the young officer. + +"But how much?" said the coachman; "you see it is not only going, I must +come back again." + +"A louis; is that enough?" asked the lady of the officer, who, turning +to the coachman, said,-- + +"These ladies offer you a louis." + +"Well, that will do, though I risk breaking my horses' legs." + +"Why, you rascal, you know that if you were paid all the way there and +back, it would be but twelve francs, and we offer you twenty-four." + +"Oh, do not stay to bargain," cried the lady; "he shall have twenty +louis if he will only set off at once." + +"One is enough, madame." + +"Come down, sir, and open the door." + +"I will be paid first," said the man. + +"You will!" said the officer fiercely. + +"Oh! let us pay," said the lady, putting her hand in her pocket. She +turned pale. "Oh! mon Dieu, I have lost my purse! Feel for yours, +Andrée." + +"Oh! madame, it is gone too." + +They looked at each other in dismay, while the young officer watched +their proceedings, and the coachman sat grinning, and priding himself on +his caution. + +The lady was about to offer her gold chain as a pledge, when the young +officer drew out a louis, and offered it to the man, who thereupon got +down and opened the door. + +The ladies thanked him warmly and got in. + +"And now, sir, drive these ladies carefully and honestly." + +The ladies looked at each other in terror; they could not bear to see +their protector leave them. + +"Oh! madame," said Andrée, "do not let him go away." + +"But why not? we will ask for his address, and return him his louis +to-morrow, with a little note of thanks, which you shall write." + +"But, madame, suppose the coachman should not keep faith with us, and +should turn us out half way, what would become of us?" + +"Oh! we will take his number." + +"Yes, madame, I do not deny that you could have him punished afterwards; +but meanwhile, you would not reach Versailles, and what would they +think?" + +"True," replied her companion. + +The officer advanced to take leave. + +"Monsieur," said Andrée, "one word more, if you please." + +"At your orders, madame," he said politely, but somewhat stiffly. + +"Monsieur, you cannot refuse us one more favor, after serving us so +much?" + +"What is it, madame?" + +"We are afraid of the coachman, who seems so unwilling to go." + +"You need not fear," replied he; "I have his number, and if he does not +behave well, apply to me." + +"To you, sir?" said Andrée in French, forgetting herself; "we do not +even know your name." + +"You speak French," exclaimed the young man, "and you have been +condemning me all this time to blunder on in German!" + +"Excuse us, sir," said the elder lady, coming to Andrée's rescue, "but +you must see, that though not perhaps foreigners, we are strangers in +Paris, and above all, out of our places in a hackney coach. You are +sufficiently a man of the world to see that we are placed in an awkward +position. I feel assured you are generous enough to believe the best of +us, and to complete the service you have rendered, and above all, to ask +us no questions." + +"Madame," replied the officer, charmed with her noble, yet pleasing +manner, "dispose of me as you will." + +"Then, sir, have the kindness to get in, and accompany us to +Versailles." + +The officer instantly placed himself opposite to them, and directed the +man to drive on. + +After proceeding in silence for some little time, he began to feel +himself surrounded with delicate and delicious perfumes, and gradually +began to think better of the ladies' position. "They are," thought he, +"ladies who have been detained late at some rendezvous, and are now +anxious to regain Versailles, much frightened, and a little ashamed; +still, two ladies, driving themselves in a cabriolet! However," +recollected he, "there was a servant behind; but then again, no money on +either of them, but probably the footman carried the purse; and the +carriage was certainly a very elegant one, and the horse could not have +been worth less than one hundred and fifty louis; therefore they must be +rich, so that the accidental want of money proves nothing. But why speak +a foreign language when they must be French? However, that at least +shows a good education, and they speak both languages with perfect +purity; besides, there is an air of distinction about them. The +supplication of the younger one was touching, and the request of the +other was noble and imposing; indeed, I begin to feel it dangerous to +pass two or three hours in a carriage with two such pretty women, pretty +and discreet also; for they do not speak, but wait for me to begin." + +On their parts, the ladies were doubtless thinking of him, for just as +he had arrived at these conclusions, the elder lady said to her +companion, but this time in English: + +"Really, this coachman crawls along; we shall never reach Versailles; I +fear our poor companion must be terribly ennuyé." + +"Particularly," answered Andrée, smiling, "as our conversation has not +been very amusing." + +"Do you not think he has a most distinguished air?" + +"Yes, certainly." + +"Besides, he wears the uniform of a naval officer, and all naval +officers are of good family. He looks well in it, too, for he is very +handsome." + +Here the young man interrupted them. "Your pardon, ladies," said he, in +excellent English, "but I must tell you that I understand English +perfectly; I do not, however, know Spanish; therefore, if you can and +like to speak in that language, you are safe from my understanding you." + +"Oh, monsieur," replied the lady, laughing, "we had no harm to say of +you, as you must have heard; therefore we will content ourselves with +French for the remainder of the time." + +"Thanks, madame, but if my presence be irksome to you----" + +"You cannot suppose that, sir, as it was we who begged you to accompany +us." + +"Exacted it, even," said Andrée. + +"Oh, madame, you overwhelm me; pray pardon me my momentary hesitation; +but Paris is so full of snares and deceptions." + +"You then took us for----" + +"Monsieur took us for snares, that is all." + +"Oh! ladies," said the young man, quite humiliated, "I assure you, I did +not." + +"But what is the matter? The coach stops." + +"I will see, madame." + +"Oh! I think we are overturning; pray take care, sir." + +And Andrée, in her terror, laid her hand on the young man's shoulder. + +He, yielding to an impulse, attempted to seize her little hand; but she +had in a moment thrown herself back again in the carriage. He therefore +got out, and found the coachman engaged in raising one of his horses, +which had fallen on the ice. + +The horse, with his aid, was soon on its legs again, and they pursued +their way. + +It seemed, however, that this little interruption had destroyed the +intimacy which had begun to spring up, for after the ladies had asked +and been told the cause of their detention, all relapsed into silence. + +The young man, however, who had derived some pleasure from the touch of +that little hand, thought he would at least have a foot in exchange; he +therefore stretched out his, and endeavored to touch hers, which, was, +however, quickly withdrawn; and when he did just touch that of the elder +lady, she said, with great sang-froid,---- + +"I fear, sir, I am dreadfully in your way." + +He colored up to the ears, and felt thankful to the darkness, which +prevented it from being seen. After this, he desisted, and remained +perfectly still, fearing even to renew the conversation, lest he should +seem impertinent to these ladies, to whom, at first, he had thought +himself rather condescending in his politeness. + +Still, in spite of himself, he felt more and more strongly attracted +towards them, and an increasing interest in them. From time to time he +heard them speak softly to each other, and he caught these words: + +"So late an hour! what excuse for being out?" + +At last the coach stopped again, but this time it was no accident, but +simply that they had arrived at Versailles. + +The young man thought the time had passed with marvelous quickness. + +"We are at Versailles," said the coachman. + +"Where must he stop, ladies?" asked the officer. + +"At the Place d'Armes." + +"At the Place d'Armes, coachman," said the officer; "go on.--I must say +something to them," thought he, "or they will now think me a stupid, as +they must before have thought me impertinent." + +"Mesdames," said he, "you are at length arrived." + +"Thanks to your generous assistance." + +"What trouble we have given you," added Andrée. + +"Oh, madame, do not speak of it!" + +"Well, sir, we shall not forget; will you tell us your name?" + +"My name?" + +"Certainly, sir; you do not wish to make us a present of a louis, I +hope." + +"Oh, madame, if that is it," said the young man, rather piqued, "I +yield; I am the Comte de Charney, and as madame has already remarked, a +naval officer." + +"Charney," repeated the elder lady, "I shall not forget." + +"Yes, madame, Georges de Charney." + +"And you live----?" + +"Hôtel des Princes, Rue de Richelieu." + +The coach stopped. The elder lady opened the door and jumped out +quickly, holding out a hand to her companion. + +"But pray, ladies," said he, preparing to follow them, "take my arm; you +are not yet at your own home." + +"Oh, sir, do not move." + +"Not move?" + +"No; pray remain in the coach." + +"You cannot walk alone at this time of night; it is impossible." + +"Now, you see," said the elder lady, gaily, "after almost refusing to +oblige us, you wish to be too obliging." + +"But, madame----" + +"Sir, remain to the end a loyal and gallant cavalier; we thank you, M. +de Charney, with all our hearts, and will not even ask your word----" + +"To do what, madame?" + +"To shut the door, and order the man to drive back to Paris, without +even looking where we go, which you will do, will you not?" + +"I will obey you, madame; coachman, back again." And he put a second +louis into the man's hand, who joyfully set off on his return. + +The young man sighed, as he took his place on the cushions which the +unknown ladies had just occupied. + +They remained motionless till the coach was out of sight, and then took +their way towards the castle. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +LAURENT. + + +At this moment our heroines heard the clock strike from the church of +St. Louis. + +"Oh, mon Dieu! a quarter to twelve," they cried, in terror. + +"See, all the doors are shut," said Andrée. + +"Oh, that is nothing; for, if they were open, we would not go in here. +Let us go round by the reservoirs." And they turned to the right, where +there was a private entrance. + +When they arrived there, "The door is shut, Andrée," said the elder +lady, rather uneasily. + +"Let us knock, madame." + +"No, we will call; Laurent must be waiting for me, for I told him +perhaps I should return late." + +"I will call," said Andrée, approaching the door. + +"Who is there?" said a voice from inside. + +"Oh, it is not Laurent!" said she, terrified. + +"Is it not?" and the other lady advanced, and called softly, "Laurent." + +No answer. + +"Laurent?" again she called, louder. + +"There is no Laurent here," replied the voice, rudely. + +"But," said Andrée, "whether he be here or not, open the door." + +"I cannot open it." + +"But Laurent would have opened it immediately." + +"I have my orders," was all the reply. + +"Who are you, then?" + +"Rather, who are you?" + +Rude as the question was, it was no time to find fault, so they +answered, "We are ladies of her majesty's suite, we lodge in the castle, +and we wish to get home." + +"Well, I, mesdames, am a Suisse of the Salischamade company, and I shall +do just the contrary of Laurent, for I shall leave you at the door." + +"Oh!" murmured the ladies, in terror and anger. + +Then, making an effort over herself, the elder lady said, "My friend, I +understand that you are obeying orders, and I do not quarrel with you +for that--it is a soldier's duty; only do me the favor to call +Laurent--he cannot be far distant." + +"I cannot quit my post." + +"Then send some one." + +"I have no one to send." + +"For pity's sake!" + +"Oh, mon Dieu, sleep in the town, that is no great thing; if I were shut +out of the barracks, I would soon find a bed." + +"Listen," said the lady again; "you shall have twenty louis, if you open +this door." + +"And twelve years at the galleys: no, thank you. Forty-eight francs a +year is not sufficient pay for that." + +"I will get you made a sergeant." + +"Yes, and he who gave me the order will have me shot." + +"And who did give you the order?" + +"The king." + +"The king!" cried they; "oh, we are lost!" + +"Is there no other door?" + +"Oh! madame, if this one is closed, be sure all the others will be so +also," said Andrée. + +"You are right, Andrée. 'Tis a horrible trick of the king," she said, +with a contempt almost menacing. + +There was a sort of bank outside the door, which they sank down upon in +despair. They could see the light under the door, and could hear the +steps of the sentinel as he paced to and fro. + +Within this little door was salvation; without, shame and scandal. + +"Oh! to-morrow, to-morrow, when they will find out," murmured the elder +lady. + +"You will tell the truth, madame." + +"But shall I be believed?" + +"Oh! we can prove it; besides, the soldier will not stay all night; he +will be relieved, and perhaps his successor will be more complacent." + +"Yes, but the patrol will pass directly, and will find me here, waiting +outside. It is infamous; I am suffocated with rage." + +"Oh, take courage, madame! you, who are always so brave." + +"It is a plot, Andrée, in order to ruin me. This door is never closed. +Oh, I shall die!" + +At this moment they heard a step approaching, and then the voice of a +young man, singing gaily as he went along. + +"That voice," cried the lady, "I know it, I am sure." + +"Oh, yes, madame, he will save us." + +A young man, wrapped up in a fur riding-coat, came quickly up, and +without noticing them, knocked at the door, and called, "Laurent." + +"Brother," said the elder lady, touching him on the shoulder. + +"The queen," cried he, taking off his hat. + +"Hush," said she. + +"You are not alone?" + +"No, I am with Mademoiselle Andrée de Taverney." + +"Oh, good evening, mademoiselle." + +"Good evening, monseigneur." + +"Are you going out, madame?" asked he. + +"No." + +"Then you are going in." + +"We wished to do so." + +"Have you not called Laurent?" + +"Yes, we have, but----" + +"But what?" + +"You call Laurent, and you will see." + +The young man, whom the reader has, perhaps, already recognized as the +Comte d'Artois, approached and again called "Laurent." + +"I warn you," answered from within the voice of the Suisse, "that if you +torment me any more I will go and fetch my commanding officer." + +"Who is this?" asked the count, turning round in astonishment to the +queen. + +"A Swiss who has been substituted for Laurent." + +"By whom?" + +"By the king." + +"The king?" + +"Yes, he told us so himself." + +"And with orders?" + +"Most strict, apparently." + +"Diable! we must capitulate." + +"What do you mean?" she asked. + +"Offer him money." + +"I have already done so, and he has refused it." + +"Offer him promotion." + +"I have offered that also, but he would not listen." + +"Then there is but one way." + +"What?" + +"To make a noise." + +"My dear Charles, you will compromise us." + +"Not the least in the world; you keep in the background, I will knock +like thunder, and shout like a madman; they will open at last, and you +can slide in with me." + +"Try, then." + +The young prince began calling Laurent, knocking at the door and +striking with his sword, till at last the Swiss said, "Ah, well! I will +call my officer." + +"Go and call him, that is just what I want." + +They soon heard other steps approaching. The queen and Andrée kept +close, ready to slip in if the door should open; then they heard the +Swiss say, "It is a gentleman, lieutenant, who insists on coming in." + +"Well, I suppose that is not astonishing, as we belong to the castle," +said the count. + +"It is no doubt a natural wish, but a forbidden one," replied the +officer. + +"Forbidden--by whom? morbleu!" + +"By the king." + +"But the king would not wish an officer of the castle to sleep outside." + +"Sir, I am not the judge of that; I have only to obey orders." + +"Come, lieutenant, open the door; we cannot talk through this oak." + +"Sir, I repeat to you that my orders are to keep it shut; and if you are +an officer, as you say, you know that I must obey." + +"Lieutenant, you speak to the colonel of a regiment." + +"Excuse me, then, colonel, but my orders are positive." + +"But they cannot concern a prince. Come, sir, a prince cannot be kept +out." + +"My prince, I am in despair, but the king has ordered----" + +"The king has ordered you to turn away his brother like a beggar or a +robber? I am the Comte d'Artois, sir. Mordieu! you keep me here freezing +at the door." + +"Monseigneur, God is my witness that I would shed my blood for your +royal highness. But the king gave me his orders in person, and confiding +to me the charge of this door, ordered me not to open to any one, +should it be even himself, after eleven o'clock. Therefore, monseigneur, +I ask your pardon humbly for disobeying you, but I am a soldier, and +were it her majesty the queen who asked admittance, I should be forced +most unwillingly to refuse." + +Having said this, the officer turned away and left the place. + +"We are lost," said the queen. + +"Do they know that you are out?" asked the count. + +"Alas, I know not!" + +"Perhaps, then, this order is leveled against me; the king knows I often +go out at night, and stay late. Madame la Comtesse d'Artois must have +heard something, and complained to him, and hence this tyrannical +order." + +"Ah, no, brother, I thank you for trying to reassure me, but I feel that +it is against me these precautions are taken." + +"Impossible, sister! the king has too much esteem----" + +"Meanwhile, I am left at the door, and to-morrow a frightful scandal +will be the result. I know well I have an enemy near the king." + +"It is possible; however, I have an idea." + +"What? only be quick. If you can but save us from the ridicule of this +position, it is all I care for." + +"Oh, I will save you; I am not more foolish than he, for all his +learning." + +"Than whom?" + +"Ah, pardieu, the Comte de Provence." + +"Ah, then, you also know my enemy." + +"Is he not the enemy of all that are young and beautiful, of all who are +better than himself?" + +"Count, I believe you know something about this order." + +"Perhaps, but do not let us stop here. Come with me, dear sister." + +"Where?" + +"You shall see, somewhere where at least you will be warm, and en route +I will tell you all I know about this. Take my arm, sister, and you the +other, Madlle. de Taverney, and let us turn to the right." + +"Well, but now go on," said the queen. + +"This evening after the king's supper, he came to his cabinet. He had +been talking all day to Count Haga, you had not been seen----" + +"No, at two o'clock I left to go to Paris." + +"I know it. The king, allow me to tell you, dear sister, was thinking no +more about you than about Haroun-al-Raschid, or his Vizier Giaffar, and +was talking geography. I listened with some impatience, for I also +wanted to go out; probably not with the same object as you." + +"Where are we going?" interrupted the queen. + +"Oh, close by; take care, there is a snow-heap. Madlle. de Taverney, if +you leave my arm you will certainly fall. But to return to the king: he +was thinking of nothing but latitude and longitude, when M. de Provence +said to him, 'I should like to pay my respects to the queen.' + +"'The queen sups at home,' replied the king. + +"'Oh, I believed her at Paris.' + +"'No, she is at home,' said the king, quietly. + +"'I have just come from there, and been denied to her,' said M. de +Provence. + +"Then I saw the king frown. He dismissed us, and doubtless went to make +inquiries. Louis is jealous by fits, you know; he must have asked to see +you, and being refused, become suspicious." + +"Yes, Madame de Misery had orders to do so." + +"Then, to know whether you were out or not, he has given these strict +orders." + +"Oh, it is shameful treatment. Confess, is it not?" + +"Indeed, I think so; but here we are." + +"This house?" + +"Does it displease you?" + +"No, I do not say that--it is charming. But your servants?" + +"Well!" + +"If they see me." + +"Come in, sister, and I will guarantee that no one sees you, not even +whoever opens the door." + +"Impossible!" + +"We will try," said he, laughing; and laying his hand on one of the +panels, the door flew open. + +"Enter, I pray you," said he, "there is no one near." + +The queen looked at Andrée, then, making up her mind, went in, and the +door shut behind them. + +She found herself in a vestibule, small, but ornamented in perfect +taste. The floor was mosaic work, representing bouquets of flowers, +while numerous rose-trees on marble brackets scented the air with a +perfume equally delicious as rare at that time of the year. + +It looked all so charming, that the ladies began to forget their fears +and scruples. + +"So far well," said the queen; "we have a shelter, at all events, and +seemingly a very charming one; but you had better see to one thing--that +is, to keep off your servants." + +"Oh, nothing more easy;" and the prince, seizing a little bell which +hung on one of the pillars, rang one clear stroke. + +"Oh!" cried the queen, frightened, "is that the way to keep them off? I +should have thought it would bring them." + +"If I had rung again, it would have done so, but when I only ring once, +they know they are not wanted." + +"Oh, you are a man of precaution!" said the queen laughing. + +"Now, dear sister, take the trouble to go up-stairs." + +"Let us obey," said the queen, "the genius of this place appears not +disagreeable;" and they went up, their steps making no sound on the +thick Aubusson carpet. + +At the top, the prince rang another bell, which gave them a fresh start +of surprise, and their astonishment increased when they saw the doors +open of themselves. + +"Really, Andrée," said the queen, "I begin to tremble, do not you?" + +"Oh, madame, I shall follow fearlessly wherever your majesty goes." + +"Enter," said the prince, "for here is your apartment;" and he ushered +them into a charming little room, furnished 'en buhl,' with a painted +ceiling and walls, and a rosewood floor. It opened into a boudoir, +fitted up with white cashmere, beautifully embroidered with groups of +flowers, and hung with tapestry of exquisite workmanship. Beyond the +boudoir was a bedroom, painted blue, hung with curtains of silk and +lace, and with a sumptuous bed in an alcove. A fire burned on the +hearth, and a dozen perfumed wax-lights in candelabra. + +Such were the marvels which presented themselves to the eyes of the +wondering ladies. No living being was to be seen; fire and lights seemed +to have come without hands. + +The queen stopped on the threshold of the bedroom, looking half afraid +to enter. + +"Sister," said the count, "these are my bachelor apartments; here I come +alone." + +"Always?" asked the queen. + +"Doubtless," answered he. + +"I understand now," said the queen, "why Madame la Comtesse is sometimes +unquiet." + +"Confess, however, that if she is unquiet to-night, it Will be without +reason." + +"To-night, I do not say, but other nights." Then, sitting down; "I am +dreadfully tired," she said; "are not you, Andrée?" + +"I can scarcely stand, and if your majesty permits----" + +"Indeed you look ill, mademoiselle," said the count. + +"You must go to bed," said the queen. "M. le Comte gives us up this +room; do you not, Charles?" + +"Entirely, madame." + +"One moment, count. If you go away, how can we recall you?" + +"You will not need me; you are mistress of this house." + +"But there are other rooms." + +"Certainly, there is a dining-room, which I advise you to visit." + +"With a table ready spread, no doubt." + +"Oh, yes, and Mademoiselle de Taverney, who seems to me to need it much, +will find there jellies or chicken, and wine, and you, sister, plenty of +those fruits you are so fond of." + +"And no servants?" + +"None." + +"We will see; but how to return?" + +"You must not think of returning to-night. At six o'clock the gates will +be opened, go out a quarter before, you will find in these drawers +mantles of all colors and all shapes, if you wish to disguise +yourselves. Go therefore to the château, regain your rooms, go to bed, +and all will be right." + +"But you, what will you do?" + +"Oh, I am going away." + +"We turn you out, my poor brother!" + +"It is better for me not to remain in the same house with you." + +"But you must sleep somewhere." + +"Do not fear; I have three other houses like this." + +The queen laughed. "And he pretends Madame la Comtesse has no cause to +be anxious; oh, I will tell her!" + +"You dare not." + +"It is true, we are dependent upon you. Then, to go away to-morrow +morning without seeing any one?" + +"You must ring once, as I did below, and the door will open." + +"By itself?" + +"By itself." + +"Then good night, brother." + +"Good night, sister." He bowed and disappeared. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +THE QUEEN'S BED-CHAMBER. + + +The next day, or rather the same morning, for our last chapter brought +us to two o'clock, the King Louis XVI., in a violet-colored morning +dress, in some disorder, and with no powder in his hair, knocked at the +door of the queen's ante-chamber. + +It was opened by one of her women. + +"The queen?" asked Louis, in a brusque manner. + +"Her majesty is asleep, sire." + +The king made a movement, as though to pass in but the woman did not +move. + +"Do you not see," he said, "that I wish to come in." + +"But the queen is asleep, sire," again she said timidly. + +"I told you to let me pass," answered the king, going in as he spoke. + +When he reached the door of the bedroom, the king saw Madame de Misery, +the first lady-in-waiting, who was sitting reading from her mass book. + +She rose on seeing him. "Sire," she said, in a low voice, and with a +profound reverence, "her majesty has not yet called for me." + +"Really?" said the king, in an ironical tone. + +"But, sire, it is only half-past six, and her majesty never rings before +seven." + +"And you are sure that her majesty is asleep in bed?" + +"I cannot affirm that she is asleep, sire, but I can that she is in +bed." + +The king could contain himself no longer, but went straight to the door, +which he opened with some noise. The room was in complete darkness, the +shutters closed, and the curtains drawn. A night lamp burned on a +bracket, but it only gave a dim and feeble light. + +The king walked rapidly towards the bed. + +"Oh, Madame de Misery," said the queen, "how noisy you are--you have +disturbed me!" + +The king remained stupefied. "It is not Madame de Misery," he murmured. + +"What, is it you, sire?" said Marie Antoinette, raising herself up. + +"Good morning, madame," said the king, in a surly tone. + +"What good wind blows you here, sire? Madame de Misery, come and open +the shutters." + +She came in instantly, as usual, opened all the doors and windows, to +let in light and fresh air. + +"You sleep well, madame," said the king, seating himself, and casting +scrutinizing glances round the room. + +"Yes, sire, I read late, and had your majesty not disturbed me, might +have slept for some time longer." + +"How was it that you did not receive visitors yesterday?" asked the +king. + +"Whom do you mean?--M. de Provence," said the queen, with great presence +of mind. + +"Yes, exactly; he wished to pay his respects to you, and was refused." + +"Well!" + +"They said you were out." + +"Did they say that?" asked the queen carelessly. "Madame de Misery----" + +The lady appeared, bringing in with her a number of letters on a gold +salver. "Did your majesty call?" she asked. + +"Yes. Did they tell M. de Provence yesterday that I was out? Will you +tell the king, for really I forget." + +"Sire," said Madame de Misery, while the queen took her letters and +began to read, "I told Monseigneur le Comte de Provence that her majesty +did not receive." + +"And by whose orders?" + +"By the queen's, sire." + +Meanwhile, the queen had opened one of the letters, and read these +lines: "You returned from Paris yesterday, and entered the château at +eight o'clock in the evening; Laurent saw you." + +Madame de Misery left the room. + +"Pardon, sire," said the queen, "but will you answer me one question?" + +"What, madame?" + +"Am I, or am I not, at liberty to see M. de Provence only when it +pleases me?" + +"Oh, perfectly at liberty, madame, but----" + +"Well, his conversation wearies me; besides, he does not love me, and I +like him no better. I expected his visit, and went to bed at eight +o'clock to avoid it. But you look disturbed, sire." + +"I believed you to be in Paris yesterday." + +"At what time?" + +"At the time at which you pretend to have gone to bed." + +"Doubtless, I went to Paris; but what of that?" + +"All, madame, depends on what time you returned." + +"Oh, you wish to know at what time exactly I returned?" + +"Yes." + +"It is easy. Madame de Misery----" + +The Lady reappeared. + +"What time was it when I returned from Paris yesterday?" + +"About eight o'clock, your majesty." + +"I do not believe it," said the king, "you make a mistake, Madame de +Misery." + +The lady walked to the door, and called, "Madame Dural!" + +"Yes, madame," replied a voice. + +"At what time did her majesty return from Paris yesterday?" + +"About eight o'clock, madame," replied the other. + +"The king thinks we are mistaken." + +Madame Dural put her head out of the window, and cried, "Laurent!" + +"Who is Laurent?" asked the king. + +"The porter at the gate where her majesty entered," said Madame de +Misery. + +"Laurent," said Madame Dural, "what time was it when her majesty came +home last evening?" + +"About eight o'clock," answered Laurent. + +Madame de Misery then left the room, and the king and queen remained +alone. + +He felt ashamed of his suspicions. + +The queen, however, only said coldly, "Well, sire, is there anything +else you wish to know?" + +"Oh, nothing!" cried he, taking her hands in his; "forgive me; I do not +know what came into my head--my joy is as great as my repentance. You +will not be angry, will you? I am in despair at having annoyed you." + +The queen withdrew her hand, and said; "Sire, a queen of France must not +tell a falsehood." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I mean that I did not return at eight o'clock last evening." + +The king drew back in surprise. + +"I mean," continued the queen in the same cold manner, "that I only +returned at six o'clock this morning." + +"Madame!" + +"And that, but for the kindness of M. le Comte d'Artois, who gave me an +asylum, and lodged me out of pity in one of his houses, I should have +been left all night at the door of the château like a beggar." + +"Ah! you had not then returned?" said the king, gloomily; "then I was +right." + +"Sire, you have not behaved towards me as a gentleman should." + +"In what, madame?" + +"In this--that if you wish to know whether I return late or early, you +have no need to close the gates, with orders not to open them, but +simply to come to me and ask, 'Madame, at what time did you return?' You +have no more reason to doubt, sire. Your spies have been deceived, your +precautions nullified, and your suspicions dissipated. I saw you ashamed +of the part you had played, and I might have continued to triumph in my +victory, but I think your proceedings shameful for a king, and unworthy +of a gentleman; and I would not refuse myself the satisfaction of +telling you so. + +"It is useless, sire," she continued, seeing the king about to speak; +"nothing can excuse your conduct towards me." + +"On the contrary, madame," replied he, "nothing is more easy. Not a +single person in the château suspected that you had not already +returned; therefore no one could think that my orders referred to you. +Probably they were attributed to the dissipations of M. le Comte +d'Artois--for that I care nothing. Therefore, madame, appearances were +saved, as far as you were concerned. I wished simply to give you a +secret lesson, from which the amount of irritation you show leads me to +hope you will profit. Therefore, I still think I was in the right, and +do not repent what I have done." + +The queen listened, and seemed to calm herself, by an effort, to prepare +for the approaching contest. "Then, sire," she said, "you think you need +no excuse for keeping at the door of your castle the daughter of Maria +Theresa, your wife, and the mother of your children? No! it is in your +eyes a pleasantry worthy of a king, and of which the morality doubles +the value. It is nothing to you, to have forced the Queen of France to +pass the night in this 'petite maison,' where the Comte d'Artois +receives the ladies of the Opera and the 'femmes galantes' of your +court. Oh no! that is nothing. A philosopher king is above all such +considerations. Only, on this occasion, I have reason to thank heaven +that my brother-in-law is a dissipated man, as his dissipation has saved +me from disgrace, and his vices have sheltered my honor." + +The king colored, and moved uneasily on his chair. + +"Oh yes!" continued the queen, with a bitter laugh, "I know that you are +a moral king, but your morality produces strange effects. You say that +no one knew that I was out. Will you tell me that M. de Provence, your +instigator, did not know it; or M. le Comte d'Artois--or my women? who, +by my orders, told you falsehoods this morning; or Laurent--bought by M. +d'Artois and by me? Let us continue this habit, sire; you, to set spies +and Swiss guards; and I, to buy them over and cheat you; and in a month +we will calculate together how much the dignity of the throne and our +marriage has gained by it." + +It was evident that her words had made a great impression on him to whom +they were addressed. + +"You know," said he, in an altered voice, "that I am always sincere, and +willing to acknowledge if I have been wrong. Will you prove to me that +you were right to go into Paris in sledges, accompanied by a gay party, +which, in the present unhappy state of things, is likely to give +offense? Will you prove to me, that you were right to disappear in +Paris, like maskers at a ball, and only to reappear scandalously late at +night, when every one else was asleep? You have spoken of the dignity of +the throne, and of marriage; think you that it befits a queen, a wife, +and a mother, to act thus?" + +"I will reply in a few words, sire; for it seems to me, that such +accusations merit nothing but contempt. I left Versailles in a sledge, +because it is the quickest way of getting to Paris at present. I went +with Madlle. de Taverney, whose reputation is certainly one of the +purest in our court. I went to Paris, I repeat, to verify the fact that +the King of France, the great upholder of morality--he who takes care of +poor strangers, warms the beggars, and earns the gratitude of the people +by his charities, leaves dying of hunger, exposed to every attack of +vice and misery, one of his own family--one who is as much as himself a +descendant of the kings who have reigned in France." + +"What!" cried the king in surprise. + +"I mounted," continued the queen, "into a garret, and there saw, without +fire, almost without light, and without money, the granddaughter of a +great prince, and I gave one hundred louis to this victim of royal +forgetfulness and neglect. Then, as I was detained late there, and as +the frost was severe, and horses go slowly over ice, particularly +hackney-coach horses----" + +"Hackney-coach horses!" cried the king. "You returned in a +hackney-coach?" + +"Yes, sire--No. 107." + +"Oh, oh!" said the king, with every sign of vexation. + +"Yes, and only too happy to get it," said the queen. + +"Madame!" interrupted he, "you are full of noble feelings; but this +impetuous generosity becomes a fault. Remember," continued he, "that I +never suspected you of anything that was not perfectly pure and honest: +it is only your mode of acting and adventurous spirit that displease me. +You have, as usual, been doing good, but the way you set about it makes +it injurious to yourself. This is what I reproach you with. You say that +I have faults to repair--that I have failed in my duty to a member of my +own family. Tell me who the unfortunate is, and he shall no longer have +reason to complain." + +"The name of Valois, sire, is sufficiently illustrious not to have +escaped your memory." + +"Ah!" cried Louis, with a shout of laughter, "I know now whom you mean. +La petite Valois, is it not?--a countess of something or other." + +"De la Motte, sire." + +"Precisely, De la Motte; her husband is a gendarme." + +"Yes, sire." + +"And his wife is an intrigante. Oh! you need not trouble yourself about +her: she is moving heaven and earth; she worries my ministers, she +teases my aunts, and overwhelms me with supplications, memorials, and +genealogies." + +"And all this uselessly, sire." + +"I must confess it." + +"Is she, or is she not, a Valois?" + +"I believe she is." + +"Well, then, I ask an honorable pension for her and a regiment for her +husband. In fact, a decent position for this branch of the royal +family." + +"An honorable pension? Mon Dieu! how you run on, madame. Do you know +what a terrible hole this winter has made in my funds? A regiment for +this little gendarme, who speculated in marrying a Valois? Why, I have +no regiments to give, even to those who deserve them, or who can pay for +them. An income befitting a Valois for these people? when we, monarch as +we are, have not one befitting a rich gentleman. Why, M. d'Orleans has +sent his horses and mules to England for sale, and has cut off a third +of his establishment. I have put down my wolf-hounds, and given up many +other things. We are all on the privation list, great and small." + +"But these Valois must not die of hunger." + +"Have you not just given them one hundred louis?" + +"And what is that?" + +"A royal gift." + +"Then give such another." + +"Yours will do for us both." + +"No, I want a pension for them." + +"No, I will not bind myself to anything fixed; they will not let me +forget them, and I will give when I have money to spare. I do not think +much of this little Valois." + +Saying these words, Louis held out his hand to the queen, who, however, +turned from him and said, "No, you are not good to me, and I am angry." + +"You bear malice," said the king "and I----" + +"Oh, you shut the gates against me; you come at half-past six to my +room, and force open the door in a passion." + +"I was not in a passion," said the king. + +"You are not now, you mean." + +"What will you give me if I prove that I was not, even when I came in?" + +"Let me see the proof." + +"Oh, it is very easy; I have it in my pocket." + +"Bah!" said the queen; but adding, with curiosity, "You have brought +something to give me, but I warn you I shall not believe you, unless you +show it me at once." + +Then, with a smile full of kindness, the king began searching in his +pockets, with that slowness which makes the child doubly impatient for +his toy, the animal for his food, and the woman for her present: at last +he drew out a box of red morocco leather, artistically ornamented in +gold. + +"A jewel box!" cried the queen. + +The king laid it on the bed. + +She opened it impatiently, and then called out, "Oh, mon Dieu! how +beautiful!" + +The king smiled with delight. "Do you think so?" said he. + +The queen could not answer--she was breathless with admiration. Then she +drew out of the box a necklace of diamonds, so large, so pure, so +glittering, and so even, that, with sparkling eyes, she cried again, +"Oh! it is magnificent." + +"Then you are content?" said the king. + +"Enchanted, sire; you make me too happy." + +"Really?" + +"See this first row; the diamonds are as large as filberts, and so even, +you could not tell one from the other; then how beautifully the +gradation of the rows is managed; the jeweler who made this necklace is +an artist." + +"They are two." + +"Then I wager it is Boehmer and Bossange." + +"You have guessed right." + +"Indeed, no one but they would risk making such a thing." + +"Madame, take care," said the king; "you will have to pay too dear for +this necklace." + +"Oh, sire!" cried the queen, all the delight fading from her +countenance. + +"You must pay the price of letting me be the first to put it on:" and he +approached her, holding in his hands the two ends of the magnificent +necklace, of which the clasp was one great diamond. + +She stopped him, saying, "But, sire, is it very dear?" + +"Have I not told you the price?" + +"Ah, Louis, we must not jest. Put the necklace back again." + +"You refuse to allow me to put it on?" + +"Oh no, sire, if I were going to wear it." + +"What?" said the king, surprised. + +"No," she said; "no one shall see a necklace of this price round my +neck." + +"You will not wear it?" + +"Never." + +"You refuse me." + +"I refuse to wear a million or a million and a half of francs round my +neck, for this necklace must cost that." + +"I do not deny it," said the king. + +"Then I do refuse to wear such a necklace while the king's coffers are +empty, when he is forced to stint his charities, and to say to the poor, +'God help you, for I have no more to give.'" + +"Are you serious in saying this?" + +"Listen, sire; M. de Sartines told me a short time since that with that +sum we could build a ship of the line; and in truth, sire, the king has +more need of a ship than the queen of a necklace." + +"Oh!" cried the king, joyfully, and with his eyes full of tears, "what +you do is sublime. Thanks, Antoinette; you are a good wife!" and he +threw his arms round her neck and kissed her. "Oh! how France will bless +you," continued he; "and it shall hear what you have done." + +The queen sighed. + +"You regret," said he: "it is not too late." + +"No, sire; shut this case, and return it to the jewelers." + +"But listen, first; I have arranged the terms of payment, and I have the +money." + +"No, I have decided. I will not have the necklace; but I want something +else." + +"Diable! then my 1,600,000 francs are gone, after all." + +"What! it would have cost that?" + +"Indeed it would." + +"Reassure yourself; what I ask is much cheaper." + +"What do you wish for?" + +"To go to Paris once more." + +"Oh! that is easy enough, and not dear." + +"But wait----" + +"Diable!" + +"To the Place Vendôme, to see M. Mesmer." + +"Diable!" again said the king; but added: "Well, as you have denied +yourself the necklace, I suppose I must let you go; but, on one +condition." + +"What?" + +"You must be accompanied by a princess of the blood." + +"Shall it be Madame de Lamballe?" + +"Yes, if you like." + +"I promise." + +"Then I consent." + +"Thanks, sire." + +"And, now," said the king, "I shall order my ship of the line, and call +it the 'Queen's Necklace.' You shall stand godmother, and then I will +send it out to La Pérouse;" and, kissing his wife's hand, he went away +quite joyful. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +THE QUEEN'S PETITE LEVEE. + + +No sooner was the king gone than the queen rose, and went to the window. +The morning was lovely, and had the charming feeling of the commencement +of spring, while the sun seemed almost warm. The wind had gone round to +the west, and if it remained in that quarter this terrible winter was +probably at an end. + +The snow was beginning to drip from the trees, under the influence of +this genial morning. + +"If we wish to profit by the ice," cried the queen, "I believe we must +make haste; for look, Madame de Misery, the spring seems to have begun. +I much wish to make up a party on the Swiss lake, and will go to-day, +for to-morrow it may be too late." + +"Then at what hour will your majesty wish to dress?" + +"Immediately; I will breakfast and then go." + +"Are there any other orders, madame?" + +"See if Madlle. de Taverney has risen, and tell her I wish to speak to +her." + +"She is already waiting for you in the boudoir, madame." + +"Already?" said the queen, who knew at what time she had gone to bed. + +"She has been there for twenty minutes, madame." + +"Ask her to come in." + +Andrée soon entered, dressed with her usual care, and smiling, though +rather unquiet. + +The queen's answering smile quite reassured her. + +"Go, my good Misery, and send me Leonard." + +When she was gone, "The king has been charming," said the queen to +Andrée; "he has laughed, and is quite disarmed." + +"But does he know, madame?" + +"You understand, Andrée, that a woman does not tell falsehoods when she +has done no wrong and is the Queen of France." + +"Certainly, madame." + +"Still, my dear Andrée, it seems we have been wrong----" + +"Doubtless, madame, but how?" + +"Why, in pitying Madame de la Motte; the king dislikes her, but I +confess she pleased me." + +"Here is Leonard," said Madame de Misery, returning. + +The queen seated herself before her silver-gilt toilet-table, and the +celebrated hair-dresser commenced his operations. + +She had the most beautiful hair in the world, and was fond of looking at +it; Leonard knew this, and therefore with her was always tardy in his +movements, that she might have time to admire it. + +Marie Antoinette was looking beautiful that morning: she was pleased and +happy. + +Her hair finished, she turned again to Andrée. + +"You have not been scolded," she said; "you are free: besides, they say +every one is afraid of you, because, like Minerva, you are too wise." + +"I, madame?" + +"Yes, you; but, oh, mon Dieu! how happy you are to be unmarried, and, +above all, to be content to be so." + +Andrée blushed, and tried to smile. + +"It is a vow that I have made," said she. + +"And which you will keep, beautiful vestal?" + +"I hope so." + +"Apropos," said the queen, "I remember, that although unmarried, you +have a master since yesterday morning." + +"A master, madame?" + +"Yes, your dear brother; what do you call him?--Philippe, is it not?" + +"Yes, madame." + +"Has he arrived?" + +"He came yesterday." + +"And you have not yet seen him? I took you away to Paris, selfish that I +was; it was unpardonable." + +"Oh, madame! I pardon you willingly, and Philippe also." + +"Are you sure?" + +"I answer for both of us." + +"How is he?" + +"As usual, beautiful and good, madame." + +"How old is he now?" + +"Thirty-two." + +"Poor Philippe! do you know that it is fourteen years since I first met +him! But I have not seen him now for nine or ten." + +"Whenever your majesty pleases to receive him he will be but too happy +to assure you that this long absence has not altered the sentiment of +respectful devotion which he has ever felt for his queen." + +"I will see him at once." + +"In a quarter of an hour he will be at your majesty's feet." + +Scarcely was Andrée gone, when the queen saw reflected in the glass an +arch and laughing face. "My brother D'Artois," cried the queen; "how you +frightened me!" + +"Good morning, your majesty," said the young prince; "how did your +majesty pass the night?" + +"Very badly, brother." + +"And the morning?" + +"Very well." + +"That is the most important; I guessed that all had gone right, for I +have just met the king, and he was smiling most graciously." + +The queen laughed, and he echoed it. + +The queen had just cast off her dressing-gown of India muslin, and put +on her morning dress, when the door opened and Andrée entered, leading +by the hand a handsome man with a brown complexion, noble black eyes, +profoundly imbued with melancholy, and a soldier-like carriage. He +looked like one of Coypel's or Gainsborough's beautiful portraits. + +He was dressed in a dark gray coat, embroidered in silver, a white +cravat, and a dark waistcoat; and this rather somber style of dress +seemed to suit the manly character of his beauty. + +"Your majesty," said Andrée, "here is my brother." + +Philippe bowed gravely. + +The queen, who had until now been looking at his figure reflected in her +mirror, turned round and saluted him. She was beautiful, with that royal +beauty which made all around her not only partisans of the throne, but +adorers of the woman. She possessed the power of beauty; and, if we may +make use of the inversion, the beauty of power. Philippe, seeing her +smile, and feeling those limpid eyes, at once soft and proud, fixed upon +him, turned pale, and could hardly restrain his emotion. + +"It appears, M. de Taverney," said she, "that you pay me your first +visit; I thank you for it." + +"Your majesty deigns to forget that it is I who should give thanks." + +"How many years have passed since we last met, monsieur? Alas! the most +beautiful part of our lives." + +"For me, madame, but not for your majesty, to whom all days are alike +charming." + +"You were then pleased with America, M. de Taverney, as you remained +there so long?" + +"Madame," answered Philippe, "M. de la Fayette, when he left the New +World, had need of an officer in whom he could place confidence to take +the command of the French auxiliaries. He proposed me, therefore, to +General Washington, who accepted me." + +"It seems," said the queen, "that this new country sends us home many +heroes." + +"Your majesty does not mean that for me?" asked Philippe, laughing. + +"Why not?" Then turning to the Comte d'Artois, "See, brother," she said; +"has not M. de Taverney the look of a hero?" + +Philippe, seeing himself thus introduced to the young prince, bowed low. +He returned it, and said, "I am most happy to make the acquaintance of +such a gentleman. What are your intentions in returning to France, sir?" + +"Monseigneur," answered Philippe, "my sister is my first consideration; +whatever she wishes, I shall do." + +"But she has a father, I believe," said the count. + +"Never mind him," said the queen, quickly, "I prefer Andrée under her +brother's protection, and he under yours, count. You will take charge of +M. de Taverney, will you not?" + +The count bowed an assent. + +"For, do you know," continued she, "that a very strong link binds me to +M. de Taverney?" + +"What do you mean, sister?" + +"That he was the first Frenchman who presented himself to my eyes when I +arrived in this country; and I had taken a very sincere vow to promote +the happiness of the first Frenchman I should meet." + +Philippe felt the blood rush to his face, and Andrée looked at him +rather sadly. + +The queen observed these looks of the brother and sister, and fancied +she divined the cause. "Why," she thought, "should not Monsieur de +Taverney have partaken the epidemic passion which pervaded all France +for the dauphiness in 1774?" Marie Antoinette therefore attributed these +looks to some confidence of this kind which the brother had made to the +sister; and in consequence, she smiled still more upon him, and +redoubled her kindness towards Andrée. + +The queen was a true woman, and gloried in being loved. + +It was an innocent coquetry, and the most generous souls have the most +strongly these aspirations for the love of all who surround them. + +Alas! a time is coming for thee, poor queen, when those smiles towards +those who love thee, with which thou hast been reproached, thou shalt +vainly bestow on those that love thee not! + +The Comte d'Artois approached Philippe while the queen was talking to +Andrée, and said, "Do you think Washington so very great a general?" + +"Certainly a great man, monseigneur." + +"And what effect did our French produce out there?" + +"As much good as the English did harm." + +"Ah, you are a partisan of the new ideas, my dear M. Philippe de +Taverney; but have you reflected on one thing?" + +"What, monseigneur? I assure you that out there, encamped in the fields, +and in the savannahs on the borders of the great lakes, I had plenty of +time for reflection." + +"On this, that in making war out there, it was neither on the Indians +nor on the English, but on us." + +"Ah, monseigneur, I do not deny that that is possible." + +"Therefore I do not admire so much these victories of M. de la Fayette +and Washington. It is egotism, perhaps, but it is not egotism for myself +alone." + +"Oh, monseigneur!" + +"But do you know why I will still support you with all my power?" + +"Whatever be the reason, I shall be truly grateful." + +"It is, because you are not one of those whose names have been blazoned +forth. You have done your duty bravely, but you have not thrust yourself +forward; you are not known in Paris." + +The young prince then kissed the queen's hand, and bowing to Andrée, +left the room. + +Then the queen turned again to Philippe, saying, "Have you seen your +father, sir?" + +"No, madame." + +"Why did you not go to see him first?" + +"I had sent home my valet, and my luggage, but my father sent the +servant back again, with orders to present myself first to you, or the +king." + +"It is a lovely morning," said the queen; "to-morrow the ice will begin +to melt. Madame de Misery, order my sledge and send my chocolate in +here." + +"Will not your majesty take something to eat? You had no supper last +night." + +"You mistake, my good Misery, we had supper. Had we not, Andrée?" + +"A very good one, madame." + +"So I will only have my chocolate. Quick, Madame de Misery; this fine +weather tempts me, and the Swiss lake will be full of company." + +"Your majesty is going to skate?" asked Philippe. + +"Ah, you will laugh at us, M. l'Américain; you, who have traversed lakes +where there are more miles than we have feet here." + +"Madame," replied Philippe, "here you amuse yourself with the cold, but +there they die of it." + +"Ah, here is my chocolate; Andrée, take a cup with me." + +Andrée bowed, coloring with pleasure. + +"You see, M. de Taverney, I am always the same, hating all etiquette, as +in old times. Do you remember those old days? Are you changed since +then, M. Philippe?" + +"No, madame," replied the young man, "I am not changed--at least, not in +heart." + +"Well, I am glad to hear that, for it was a good one. A cup for M. de +Taverney, Madame de Misery." + +"Oh, madame!" cried Philippe, "you cannot mean it; such an honor for a +poor obscure soldier like me." + +"An old friend," said the queen; "this day seems to remind me of my +youth; I seem again happy, free, proud and yet foolish. This day recalls +to me that happy time at my dear Trianon, and all our frolics there, +Andrée and I together. This day brings back to my memory my roses, my +strawberries, and my birds, that I was so fond of, all, even to my good +gardeners, whose happy faces often announced to me a new flower or a +delicious fruit; and M. de Jussieu and that original old Rousseau, who +is since dead. But come," continued she, herself pouring the chocolate +into his cup, "you are a soldier, and accustomed to fire, so burn +yourself gloriously with this chocolate, for I am in a hurry." + +She laughed, but Philippe, taking it seriously, drank it off most +heroically. + +The queen saw him, and laughing still more, said, "You are indeed a +perfect hero, M. de Taverney." She then rose, and her woman brought her +bonnet, ermine mantle, and gloves. + +Philippe took his hat under his arm, and followed her and Andrée out. + +"M. de Taverney, I do not mean you to leave me," said the queen. "Come +round to my right." + +They went down the great staircase; the drums were beating, the clarions +of the body-guard were playing, and this whole scene, and the enthusiasm +everywhere shown towards that beautiful queen by whose side he was +walking, completed the intoxication of the young man. The change was too +sudden, after so many years of exile and regret, to such great joy and +honor. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE SWISS LAKE. + + +Every one knows this piece of water, which still goes by the same name. +An avenue of linden trees skirts each bank, and these avenues were on +this day thronged with pedestrians, of all ranks and ages, who had come +to enjoy the sight of the sledges and the skating. The toilets of the +ladies presented a brilliant spectacle of luxury and gaiety, their high +coiffures, gay bonnets with the veils half down, fur mantles, and +brilliant silks with deep flounces, were mingled with the orange or blue +coats of the gentlemen. + +Gay lackeys also, in blue and red, passed among the crowd, looking like +poppies and cornflowers blown about by the wind. + +Now and then a cry of admiration burst from the crowd, as St. George, +the celebrated skater, executed some circle so perfect, that a +mathematician could scarcely have found a fault in it. + +While the banks of the lake were thus crowded, the ice itself presented +a scene not less gay, and still more animated: sledges flew about in all +directions. Several dogs, clothed in embroidered velvet, and with plumes +of feathers on their heads, looking like fabulous animals, drew a sledge +in which sat M. de Lauzun, who was wrapped up in a tiger skin. Here you +might see a lady masked, doubtless on account of the cold, in some +sledge of a quieter character, while a handsome skater, in a velvet +riding-coat, hangs over the back, to assist and direct her progress; +whatever they may be saying to each other is quite inaudible, amidst +this busy hum of voices; but who can blame a rendezvous which takes +place in the open air, and under the eyes of all Versailles? and +whatever they may be saying matters to no one else: it is evident that +in the midst of this crowd their life is an isolated one; they think +only of each other. + +All at once a general movement in the crowd announces that they have +recognized the queen, who is approaching the lake. A general cry of +"Vive la reine!" is heard, and all endeavor to approach as nearly as +possible to the place where she has stationed herself. One person alone +does not appear to share this feeling, for on her approach he disappears +with all his suite as fast as possible in the opposite direction. + +"Do you see," said the Comte d'Artois to the queen, whom he had hastened +to join, "how my brother Provence flies from you?" + +"He fears that I should reproach him." + +"Oh, no; it is not that that makes him fly." + +"It is his conscience, then." + +"Not even that, sister." + +"What then?" + +"I will tell you. He had just heard that M. de Suffren, our glorious +commander, will arrive this evening; and as the news is important, he +wishes to leave you in ignorance of it." + +"But is the Minister of Marine ignorant of this arrival?" + +"Ah, mon Dieu, sister, have you not learned enough of ministers, during +the fourteen years you have passed here, as dauphiness and queen, to +know that they are always ignorant of precisely what they ought to know? +However, I have told him about this, and he is deeply grateful." + +"I should think so," said the queen. + +"Yes, and I have need of his gratitude, for I want a loan." + +"Oh," cried the queen, laughing, "how disinterested you are." + +"Sister," said he, "you must want money; I offer you half of what I am +going to receive." + +"Oh no, brother, keep it for yourself; I thank you, but I want nothing +just now." + +"Diable! do not wait too long to claim my promise, because if you do, I +may not be in a condition to fulfil it." + +"In that case I must endeavor to find out some state secret for myself." + +"Sister, you begin to look cold." + +"Well, here is M. de Taverney returning with my sledge." + +"Then you do not want me any longer?" + +"No." + +"Then send me away, I beg." + +"Why? do you imagine you will be in my way?" + +"No; it is I who want my liberty." + +"Adieu, then." + +"Au revoir, dear sister." + +"Till when?" + +"Till this evening." + +"Is there anything to take place to-night, then?" + +"Yes; this evening the minister will bring M. de Suffren to the jeu du +roi." + +"Very well, then, till this evening." + +And the young prince, bowing with his habitual elegance, disappeared +among the crowd. + +Old Taverney, who was one of the nearest spectators of all this, had +been watching his son eagerly, and felt almost chagrined at this +conversation between the queen and her brother-in-law, as it interrupted +the familiar intercourse which his son had before been enjoying; +therefore, when the young man returned with the queen's sledge, and, +seeing his father, whom he had not met for ten years, advanced towards +him, he motioned him away, saying, "We will talk afterwards, when you +have left the queen." + +Philippe, therefore, returned to the queen, who was getting into the +sledge with Andrée. Two attendants approached to push it, but she said, +"No; I do not wish to go like that; you skate, M. de Taverney? Does he +not, Andrée?" + +"Philippe used to skate remarkably well," replied she. + +"And now I dare say he rivals St. George," said the queen. + +"I will do my best to justify your majesty's opinion," said he; and +putting on his skates, he placed himself behind her sledge, and they +commenced their course. + +St. George, seeing the queen on the ice, began to execute his most +skilful maneuvers, and finished off by going in circles round her +sledge, making the most elegant bows each time he passed her. + +Then Philippe, moved to emulation, began to push along the sledge with +such wonderful rapidity that St. George found no little difficulty in +keeping pace with it. + +Several people, however, seeing the queen move at this marvelous rate, +uttered cries of terror. + +"If your majesty desires," said Philippe, "I will stop, or go slower." + +"Oh no!" said she, with that enthusiasm which she carried into +everything; "oh no! I am not at all afraid; quicker still, chevalier, if +you can." + +"Oh yes, madame, and you are quite safe; you may trust to me;" and his +vigorous arm propelled them at a still increased pace. He emulated the +circles of St. George, and flew round as fast with the sledge as could +even that experienced skater without it. + +Then, leaving these evolutions, he pushed the sledge straight before +him, and with such force that he himself remained behind. + +St. George, seeing this, made a tremendous effort to gain the sledge +before him, but was distanced by Philippe, who once more seized it, +turned it, and flew in a new direction. + +The air now rang with such acclamations, that Philippe began to feel +ashamed. + +Then the queen, who had joined the applause with her hands, turned round +and said to him, "And now, M. de Taverney, that you have gained the +victory, stop, I beg, or you will kill me." + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +THE TEMPTER. + + +Philippe, at this request of the queen, made a strong effort, and +stopped the sledge abruptly. + +"And now, rest yourself," said she, coming out of it all trembling. +"Indeed, I never could have believed the delight of going so fast, but +you have made me quite tremble;" and she took Philippe's arm to support +herself, until a general murmur reminded her that she was once more +committing a breach of etiquette. + +As for Philippe, overwhelmed by this great honor, he felt more ashamed +than if his sovereign had insulted him publicly; he lowered his eyes, +and his heart beat as though it would burst. + +The queen, however, withdrew her arm almost immediately, and asked for a +seat. They brought her one. + +"Thanks, M. de Taverney," said she; then, in a lower tone, "Mon Dieu, +how disagreeable it is to be always surrounded by spying fools!" + +A number of ladies and gentlemen soon crowded round her, and all looked +with no little curiosity at Philippe, who, to hide his confusion, +stooped to take off his skates, and then fell into the background. + +After a short time, however, the queen said, "I shall take cold if I sit +here, I must take another turn;" and she remounted her sledge. + +Philippe waited, but in vain, for another order. + +Twenty gentlemen soon presented themselves, but she said, "No, I thank +you, I have my attendants;" and she moved slowly off, while Philippe +remained alone. + +He looked about for St. George, to console him for his defeat by some +compliment, but he had received a message from his patron, the duke +d'Orleans, and had left the place. + +Philippe, therefore, rather tired, and half frightened at all that had +passed, remained stationary, following with his eyes the queen's sledge, +which was now at some distance, when he felt some one touch him; he +turned round and saw his father. + +The little old man, more shrunk than ever, enveloped in furs like a +Laplander, had touched his son with his elbow, that he might not be +obliged to take his hands out of the muff that hung from his neck. + +"You do not embrace me, my son," said he. + +"My dear father, I do it with all my heart." + +"And now," said the old man, "go quickly;" and he pushed him away. + +"Where do you wish me to go, sir?" + +"Why, morbleu, over there." + +"Where?" + +"To the queen." + +"No, I thank you, father." + +"How? No, I thank you! are you mad? You will not go after the queen?" + +"My dear father, it is impossible!" + +"Impossible to join the queen, who is expecting you?" + +"Who is expecting me!" + +"Yes, who wishes for you." + +"Wishes for me? Indeed, father," added he, coldly, "I think you forget +yourself." + +"It is astonishing!" said the old man, stamping his foot. "Where on +earth do you spring from?" + +"Monsieur," said his son, sadly, "you will make me conclude one of two +things." + +"What?" + +"Either that you are laughing at me, or else, excuse me, that you are +losing your senses." + +The old man seized his son by the arm so energetically that he made him +start. "Listen, M. Philippe," said he; "America is, I know, a country a +long way from this, and where there is neither king nor queen." + +"Nor subjects." + +"Nor subjects, M. Philosopher; I do not deny it; that point does not +interest me; but what does so is that I fear also to have to come to a +conclusion----" + +"What, father?" + +"That you are a simpleton, my son; just trouble yourself to look over +there." + +"Well, sir!" + +"Well, the queen looks back, and it is the third time she has done so; +there! she turns again, and who do you think she is looking for but for +you, M. Puritan?" + +"Well, sir," said the young man; "if it were true, which it probably is +not, that the queen was looking for----" + +"Oh!" interrupted the old man, angrily, "this fellow is not of my blood; +he cannot be a Taverney. Sir, I repeat to you that the queen is looking +for you." + +"You have good sight, sir," said his son, dryly. + +"Come," said the old man, more gently, and trying to moderate his +impatience, "trust my experience: are you, or are you not, a man?" + +Philippe made no reply. + +His father ground his teeth with anger, to see himself opposed by this +steadfast will; but making one more effort, "Philippe, my son," said he, +still more gently, "listen to me." + +"It seems to me, sir, that I have been doing nothing else for the last +quarter of an hour." + +"Oh," thought the old man, "I will draw you down from your stilts. I +will find out your weak side." Then aloud, "You have overlooked one +thing, Philippe." + +"What, sir?" + +"When you left for America, there was a king, but no queen, if it were +not the Dubarry; hardly a respectable sovereign. You come back and see a +queen, and you think you must be very respectful." + +"Doubtless." + +"Poor child!" said his father, laughing. + +"How, sir? You blame me for respecting the monarchy--you, a Taverney +Maison-Rouge, one of the best names in France." + +"I do not speak of the monarchy, but only of the queen." + +"And you make a difference?" + +"Pardieu, I should think so. What is royalty? a crown that is +unapproachable. But what is a queen? a woman, and she, on the contrary, +is very approachable." + +Philippe made a gesture of disgust. + +"You do not believe me," continued the old man, almost fiercely; "well, +ask M. de Coigny, ask M. de Lauzun, or M. de Vaudreuil." + +"Silence, father!" cried Philippe; "or for these three blasphemies, not +being able to strike you three blows with my sword, I shall strike them +on myself." + +The old man stepped back, murmuring, "Mon Dieu, what a stupid animal! +Good evening, son; you rejoice me; I thought I was the father, the old +man, but now I think it is I who must be the young Apollo, and you the +old man;" and he turned away. + +Philippe stopped him: "You did not speak seriously, did you, father? It +is impossible that a gentleman of good blood like you should give ear to +these calumnies, spread by the enemies, not only of the queen, but of +the throne." + +"He will not believe, the double mule!" said the old man. + +"You speak to me as you would speak before God?" + +"Yes, truly." + +"Before God, whom you approach every day?" + +"It seems to me, my son," replied he, "that I am a gentleman, and that +you may believe my word." + +"It is, then, your opinion that the queen has had lovers?" + +"Certainly." + +"Those whom you have named?" + +"And others, for what I know. Ask all the town and the court. One must +be just returned from America to be ignorant of all they say." + +"And who say this, sir? some vile pamphleteers!" + +"Oh! do you, then, take me for an editor?" + +"No, and there is the mischief, when men like you repeat such calumnies, +which, without that, would melt away like the unwholesome vapors which +sometimes obscure the most brilliant sunshine; but people like you, +repeating them, give them a terrible stability. Oh! monsieur, for +mercy's sake do not repeat such things." + +"I do repeat them, however." + +"And why do you repeat them?" cried Philippe, fiercely. + +"Oh!" said the old man with his satanic laugh, "to prove to you that I +was not wrong when I said, 'Philippe, the queen looks back; she is +looking for you. Philippe, the queen wishes for you; run to her.'" + +"Oh! father, hold your tongue, or you will drive me mad." + +"Really, Philippe, I do not understand you. Is it a crime to love? It +shows that one has a heart; and in the eyes of this woman, in her voice, +in everything, can you not read her heart? She loves; is it you? or is +it another? I know not, but believe in my own experience: at this moment +she loves, or is beginning to love, some one. But you are a philosopher, +a Puritan, a Quaker, an American; you do not love; well, then, let her +look; let her turn again and again; despise her, Philippe, I should say +Joseph de Taverney." + +The old man hurried away, satisfied with the effect he had produced, and +fled like the serpent who was the first tempter into crime. + +Philippe remained alone, his heart swelling and his blood boiling. He +remained fixed in his place for about half an hour, when the queen, +having finished her tour, returned to where he stood, and called out to +him: + +"You must be rested now, M. de Taverney; come, then, for there is no one +like you to guide a queen royally." + +Philippe ran to her, giddy, and hardly knowing what he did. He placed +his hand on the back of the sledge, but started as though he had burned +his fingers; the queen had thrown herself negligently back in the +sledge, and the fingers of the young man touched the locks of Marie +Antoinette. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +M. DE SUFFREN. + + +Contrary to the usual habits of a court, the secret had been faithfully +confined to Louis XVI. and the Comte d'Artois. No one knew at what time +or hour M. de Suffren would arrive. + +The king had announced his jeu du roi for the evening; and at seven +o'clock he entered, with ten princes and princesses of his family. The +queen came holding the princess royal, now about seven years old, by the +hand. The assembly was numerous and brilliant. The Comte d'Artois +approached the queen, and said, "Look around you, madame." + +"Well?" + +"What do you see?" + +The queen looked all around, and then said, "I see nothing but happy and +friendly faces." + +"Rather, then, whom do you not see?" + +"Oh! I understand; I wonder if he is always going to run away from me." + +"Oh no! only this is a good joke; M. de Provence has gone to wait at the +barrier for M. de Suffren." + +"Well, I do not see why you laugh at that; he has been the most cunning, +after all, and will be the first to receive and pay his compliments to +this gentleman." + +"Come, dear sister," replied the young prince, laughing, "you have a +very mean opinion of our diplomacy. M. de Provence has gone to meet him +at Fontainebleau; but we have sent some one to meet him at Villejuif, so +that my brother will wait by himself at Fontainebleau, while our +messenger will conduct M. de Suffren straight to Versailles, without +passing through Paris at all." + +"That is excellently imagined." + +"It is not bad, I flatter myself; but it is your turn to play." + +The king had noticed that M. d'Artois was making the queen laugh, and +guessing what it was about, gave them a significant glance, to show that +he shared their amusement. + +The saloon where they played was full of persons of the highest rank--M. +de Condé, M. de Penthièvre, M. de Tremouille, etc. The news of the +arrival of M. de Suffren had, as we have said, been kept quiet, but +there had been a kind of vague rumor that some one was expected, and all +were somewhat preoccupied and watchful. Even the king, who was in the +habit of playing six-franc pieces in order to moderate the play of the +court, played gold without thinking of it. + +The queen, however, to all appearances entered, as usual, eagerly into +the game. + +Philippe, who, with his sister, was admitted to the party, in vain +endeavored to shake from his mind his father's words. He asked himself +if indeed this old man, who had seen so much of courts, was not right; +and if his own ideas were indeed those of a Puritan, and belonging to +another land. This queen, so charming, so beautiful, and so friendly +towards him, was she indeed only a terrible coquette, anxious to add one +lover more to her list, as the entomologist transfixes a new insect or +butterfly, without thinking of the tortures of the poor creature whose +heart he is piercing? "Coigny, Vaudreuil," repeated he to himself, "they +loved the queen, and were loved by her. Oh, why does this calumny haunt +me so, or why will not some ray of light discover to me the heart of +this woman?" + +Then Philippe turned his eyes to the other end of the table, where, by a +strange chance, these gentlemen were sitting side by side, and both +seemingly equally forgetful of, and insensible to, the queen; and he +thought that it was impossible that these men could have loved and be so +calm, or that they could have been loved and seem so forgetful. From +them he turned to look at Marie Antoinette herself and interrogated +that pure forehead, that haughty mouth, and beautiful face; and the +answer they all seemed to give him was: calumnies, all calumnies, these +rumors, originating only in the hates and jealousies of a court. + +While he was coming to these conclusions the clock struck a quarter to +eight, and at that moment a great noise of footsteps and the sound of +many voices were heard on the staircase. The king, hearing it, signed to +the queen, and they both rose and broke up the game. She then passed +into the great reception-hall, and the king followed her. + +An aide-de-camp of M. de Castries, Minister of Marine, approached the +king and said something in a low tone, when M. de Castries himself +entered, and said aloud, "Will your majesty receive M. de Suffren, who +has arrived from Toulon?" + +At this name a general movement took place in the assembly. + +"Yes, sir," said the king, "with great pleasure;" and M. de Castries +left the room. + +To explain this interest for M. de Suffren, and why king, queen, +princes, and ministers contended who should be the first to receive him, +a few words will suffice. + +Suffren is a name essentially French, like Turenne or Jean Bart. Since +the last war with England, M. de Suffren had fought seven great naval +battles without sustaining a defeat. He had taken Trincomalee and +Gondeleur, scoured the seas, and taught the Nabob Hyder Ali that France +was the first Power in Europe. He had carried into his profession all +the skill of an able diplomatist, all the bravery and all the tactics of +a soldier, and all the prudence of a wise ruler. Hardy, indefatigable, +and proud when the honor of the French nation was in question, he had +harassed the English, by land and by sea, till even these fierce +islanders were afraid of him. + +But after the battle, in which he risked his life like the meanest +sailor, he ever showed himself humane, generous, and compassionate. He +was now about fifty-six years of age, stout and short, but with an eye +of fire and a noble carriage, and, like a man accustomed to surmount all +difficulties, he had dressed in his traveling-carriage. + +He wore a blue coat embroidered with gold, a red waistcoat, and blue +trousers. + +All the guards through whom he had passed, when he was named to them by +M. de Castries, had saluted him as they would have done a king. + +"M. de Suffren," said the king when he entered, "welcome to Versailles; +you bring glory with you." + +M. de Suffren bent his knee to the king, who, however, raised him and +embraced him cordially; then, turning to the queen, "Madame," said he, +"here is M. de Suffren, the victor of Trincomalee and Gondeleur, and the +terror of the English." + +"Monsieur," said the queen, "I wish you to know that you have not fired +a shot for the glory of France but my heart has beaten with admiration +and gratitude." + +When she ceased, the Comte d'Artois approached with his son, the Duc +d'Angoulême. + +"My son," said he, "you see a hero; look at him well, for it is a rare +sight." + +"Monseigneur," replied the young prince, "I have read about the great +men in Plutarch, but I could not see them; I thank you for showing me M. +de Suffren." + +The king now took the arm of M. de Suffren, in order to lead him to his +study, and talk to him of his travels; but he made a respectful +resistance. + +"Sire," said he, "will your majesty permit me----" + +"Oh! whatever you wish, sir." + +"Then, sire, one of my officers has committed so grave a fault against +discipline, that I thought your majesty ought to be sole judge of the +offense." + +"Oh, M. de Suffren, I had hoped your first request would have been a +favor, and not a punishment." + +"Your majesty, as I have had the honor to say, shall judge what ought to +be done. In the last battle the officer of whom I speak was on board _La +Sévère_." + +"Oh, the ship that struck her flag!" cried the king, frowning. + +"Yes, sire. The captain of _La Sévère_ had indeed struck his flag, and +already Sir Hugh, the English admiral, had despatched a boat to take +possession of his prize, when the lieutenant in command of the guns of +the middle deck, perceiving that the firing above had ceased, and having +received orders to stop his own fire, went on deck, saw the flag +lowered, and the captain ready to surrender. At this sight, sir, all his +French blood revolted, he took the flag which lay there, and, seizing a +hammer, ordered the men to recommence the fire, while he nailed it to +the mast. It was by this action, sire, that _La Sévère_ was preserved to +your majesty." + +"A splendid action!" cried the king and queen simultaneously. + +"Yes, sire--yes, madame, but a grave fault against discipline. The order +had been given by the captain, and the lieutenant ought to have obeyed. +I, however, ask for the pardon of the officer, and the more so as he is +my own nephew." + +"Your nephew!" cried the king; "and you have never mentioned him!" + +"Not to you, sire; but I made my report to the ministers, begging them +to say nothing about it until I had obtained his pardon from your +majesty." + +"It is granted," said the king. "I promise beforehand my protection to +all who may violate discipline in such a cause. You must present this +officer to me, M. de Suffren." + +M. de Suffren turned. "Approach, M. de Charny," he said. + +The queen started at the sound of this name, which she had so recently +heard. A young officer advanced from the crowd, and presented himself +before the king. + +The queen and Andrée looked anxiously at each other; but M. de Charny +bowed before the king almost without raising his eyes, and, after +kissing his hand, retired again, without seeming to have observed the +queen. + +"Come now, M. de Suffren," said the king, "and let us converse; I am +impatient to hear all your adventures." But before leaving the room he +turned to the queen and said. "Apropos, madame, I am going to have +built, as you know, a ship of one hundred guns, and I think of changing +the name we had destined for it, and of calling it instead----" + +"Oh yes!" cried Marie Antoinette, catching his thought, "we will call it +_Le Suffren_, and I will still stand sponsor." + +"Vive le roi! vive la reine!" cried all. + +"And vive M. de Suffren!" added the king, and then left the room with +him. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +M. DE CHARNY. + + +M. de Suffren had requested his nephew to wait his return, and he +therefore remained in the group as before. + +The queen, speaking low to Andrée, and glancing towards him, said: "It +is he, there is no doubt." + +"Mon Dieu! yes, madame, it is he indeed." + +At this moment the door opened, and a gentleman dressed in the robes of +a cardinal, and followed by a long train of officers and prelates, +entered the room. + +The queen immediately recognized M. de Rohan, and turned away her head, +without taking the trouble to hide the frown which overspread her face. + +He crossed the room without stopping to speak to any one, and, coming +straight up to her, bowed to her more as a man of the world bows to a +lady than as a subject to a queen, and then addressed some rather +high-flown compliments to her; but she scarcely looked at him, and, +after murmuring a few cold words in reply, began to talk to Madame de +Lamballe. + +The cardinal did not seem to notice this chilling reception, but bowed +again, and retired without appearing in the least disconcerted. + +He then turned to the king's aunts, from whom he met with a reception as +cordial as the queen's had been the reverse. The Cardinal Louis de Rohan +was a man in the prime of life, and of an imposing figure and noble +bearing; his eyes shone with intelligence, his mouth was well cut and +handsome, and his hands were beautiful. A premature baldness indicated +either a man of pleasure or a studious one--and he was both. He was a +man no little sought after by the ladies, and was noted for his +magnificent style of living; indeed, he had found the way to feel +himself poor with an income of 1,600,000 francs. + +The king liked him for his learning, but the queen hated him. The +reasons for this hate were twofold: first, when ambassador to Vienna, he +had written to Louis XV. letters so full of sarcasm on Maria Theresa, +that her daughter had never forgiven him; and he had also written +letters opposing her marriage, which had been read aloud by Louis XV. at +a supper at Madame Dubarry's. The embassy at Vienna had been taken from +M. de Breteuil and given to M. de Rohan; the former gentleman, not +strong enough to revenge himself alone, had procured copies of these +letters, which he had laid before the dauphiness, thus making her the +eternal enemy of M. de Rohan. + +This hatred rendered the cardinal's position at court not a little +uncomfortable. Every time he presented himself before the queen, he met +with the same discouraging reception. In spite of this, he neglected no +occasion of being near her, for which he had frequent opportunities, as +he was chaplain to the court; and he never complained of the treatment +he received. A circle of friends, among whom the Baron de Planta was the +most intimate, helped to console him for these royal rebuffs; not to +speak of the ladies of the court, who by no means imitated the severity +of the queen towards him. + +When he was gone, Marie Antoinette recovered her serenity, and said to +Madame de Lamballe: + +"Do you not think that this action of the nephew of M. de Suffren is one +of the most remarkable of the war? What is his name, by the bye?" + +"M. de Charny, I believe," replied the princess. "Was it not?" she said, +turning to Andrée. + +"Yes, your highness." + +"M. de Charny shall describe it to us himself," said the queen. "Is he +still here? Let him be sought for." + +An officer who stood near hastened to obey her, and immediately returned +with M. de Charny, and the circle round the queen made way for him to +approach. + +He was a young man, about eight-and-twenty, tall and well made; his +face, animated and yet sweet, took a character of singular energy when +he spoke, and dilated his large blue eyes; and he was, strange to say, +for one who had been fighting in India, as fair as Philippe was dark. + +When he had approached the place where the queen sat, with Madlle. de +Taverney standing near her, he did not betray his surprise in any way, +although it must have been great, in recognizing the ladies of the +evening before. He did not look up until she addressed him, saying: + +"M. de Charny, these ladies experience the natural desire, which I share +with them, to hear from yourself all the details of this action of your +ship." + +"Madame," replied the young officer, "I beg your majesty to spare me the +recital, not from modesty, but from humanity. What I did as lieutenant, +a dozen other officers doubtless wished to do, only I was the first to +put it in execution; and it is not worthy being made the subject of a +narration to your majesty. Besides, the captain of _La Sévère_ is a +brave officer, who on that day lost his presence of mind. Alas, madame, +we all know that the most courageous are not always equally brave. He +wanted but ten minutes to recover himself; my determination not to +surrender gave him the breathing time, his natural courage returned to +him, and he showed himself the bravest of us all. Therefore I beg your +majesty not to exaggerate the merit of my action, and thereby crush this +deserving officer, who deplores incessantly the failing of a few +moments." + +"Right!" said the queen, touched by these generous words; "you are a +true gentleman, M. de Charny, and such I already know you to be." + +The young man colored crimson, and looked almost frightened at Andrée, +fearing what the queen's rash generosity might lead her to say. + +"For," continued the intrepid queen, "I must tell you all, that this is +not the first time I have heard of M. de Charny, who deserves to be +known and admired by all ladies; and to show you that he is as indulgent +to our sex as he is merciless to his enemies, I will relate a little +history of him which does him the greatest honor." + +"Oh, madame!" stammered the young man, who felt as if he would have +given a year of his life to be back in the West Indies. + +"This, then, is it," continued the queen, to her eager listeners: "two +ladies, whom I know, were detained out late and became embarrassed in a +crowd; they ran a great risk, a real danger awaited them; M. de Charny +happily passed by at the moment: he dispersed the crowd, and, although +they were unknown to him, and it was impossible to recognize their rank, +took them under his protection, and escorted them a long way, ten miles +from Paris, I believe." + +"Oh! your majesty exaggerates," said M. de Charny, laughing, and now +quite reassured. + +"Well, we will call it five," said the Count d'Artois, suddenly joining +in the conversation. + +"Let it be five, then, brother," said the queen; "but the most admirable +part of the story is, that M. de Charny did not seek even to know the +names of these ladies whom he had served, but left them at the place +where they wished to stop, and went away without even looking back, so +that they escaped from his protection without even a moment's +disquietude." + +All expressed their admiration. + +"A knight of the round table could not have acted better," her majesty +went on; "and so, M. de Charny, as the king will doubtless take upon +himself to reward M. de Suffren, I, for my part, wish to do something +for the nephew of this great man." + +As she spoke, she held out her hand to him, and Charny, pale with joy, +pressed his lips to this beautiful hand, while Philippe looked on from +an obscure corner, pale with an opposite emotion. + +The voice of M. d'Artois interrupted this scene, saying loudly, "Ah, +Provence! you come too late! you have missed a fine sight, the reception +of M. de Suffren. Really, it was one that a Frenchman can never forget. +How the devil did it happen that you were not here--you who are +generally the punctual man par excellence?" + +M. de Provence bit his lips with vexation, and whispered to M. de +Favras, his captain of the guards, "How does it come to pass that he is +here?" + +"Ah! monseigneur, I have been asking myself that question for the last +hour, and have not yet found an answer." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +THE ONE HUNDRED LOUIS OF THE QUEEN. + + +Now we have introduced the principal characters of this history to our +readers, and have taken them both into the "petite maison" of the Comte +d'Artois and into the king's palace at Versailles, we will return to +that house in the Rue St. Claude where we saw the queen enter incognito +with Mademoiselle Andrée de Taverney. + +We left Madame de la Motte counting over and delighted with her fifty +double louis; next to the pleasure of having them, she knew no greater +than that of displaying them, and having no one else, she called Dame +Clotilde, who was still in the ante-chamber. + +When she entered, "Come and look here!" said her mistress. + +"Oh, madame!" cried the old woman, clasping her hands in astonishment. + +"You were uneasy about your wages," said the countess. + +"Oh, madame! I never said that; I only asked madame if she could pay me, +as I had received nothing for three months." + +"Do you think there is enough there to pay you?" + +"Oh! madame, if I had all that, I should be rich for the rest of my +life. But in what will madame spend all that?" + +"In everything." + +"The first thing, I think, madame, will be to furnish the kitchen, for +you will have good dinners cooked now." + +"Listen!" said Madame de la Motte; "someone knocks." + +"I did not hear it," said the old woman. + +"But I tell you that I did; so go at once." She hastily gathered up her +money, and put it into a drawer, murmuring, "Oh! if Providence will but +send me another such a visitor." Then she heard the steps of a man +below, but could not distinguish what he said. Soon however, the door +opened, and Clotilde came in with a letter. + +The countess examined it attentively, and asked, "Was this brought by a +servant?" + +"Yes, madame." + +"In livery?" + +"No, madame." + +"I know these arms, surely," said Jeanne to herself. "Who can it be +from? but the letter will soon show for itself;" and opening it, she +read: "Madame, the person to whom you wrote will see you to-morrow +evening, if it be agreeable to you to remain at home for that purpose;" +and that was all. "I have written to so many people," thought the +countess. "Is this a man or a woman? The writing is no guide, nor is the +style; it might come from either. Who is it that uses these arms? Oh! I +remember now--the arms of the Rohans. Yes, I wrote to M. de Guémenée, +and to M. de Rohan; it is one of them: but the shield is not +quartered--it is therefore the cardinal. Ah! Monsieur de Rohan, the man +of gallantry, the fine gentleman, and the ambitious one; he will come to +see Jeanne de la Motte, if it be agreeable to her. Oh, yes! M. de Rohan, +it is very agreeable. A charitable lady who gives a hundred louis may be +received in a garret, freeze in my cold room, and suffer on my hard +chair; but a clerical prince, a lady's man, that is quite another thing. +We must have luxury to greet him." + +Then, turning to Clotilde, who was getting her bed ready, she said: "Be +sure to call me early to-morrow morning;" and when she did retire to +rest, so absorbed was she in her expectations and plans, that it was +nearly three o'clock before she fell asleep; nevertheless, she was quite +ready when Dame Clotilde called her according to her directions early in +the morning, and had finished her toilet by eight o'clock, although this +day it consisted of an elegant silk dress, and her hair was elaborately +dressed. + +She sent Clotilde for a coach, and ordered the man to drive to the Place +Royale, where, under one of the arcades, was the shop of M. Fingret, an +upholsterer and decorator, and who had furniture always ready for sale +or hire. + +She entered his immense show-rooms, of which the walls were hung with +different tapestries, and the ceiling completely hidden by the number of +chandeliers and lamps that hung from it. On the ground were furniture, +carpets, and cornices of every fashion and description. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +M. FINGRET. + + +Madame de la Motte, looking at all this, began to perceive how much she +wanted. She wanted a drawing-room to hold sofas and lounging-chairs; a +dining-room for tables and sideboards; and a boudoir for Persian +curtains, screens, and knick-knacks; above all, she wanted the money to +buy all these things. But in Paris, whatever you cannot afford to buy, +you can hire; and Madame de la Motte set her heart on a set of furniture +covered in yellow silk, with gilt nails, which she thought would be very +becoming to her dark complexion. But this furniture she felt sure would +never go into her rooms on the fifth story; it would be necessary to +hire the third, which was composed of an ante-chamber, a dining-room, +small drawing-room, and bedroom, so that she might, she thought, receive +on this third story the visits of the cardinal, and on the fifth those +of ladies of charity--that is to say, receive in luxury those who give +from ostentation, and in poverty those who only desire to give when it +is needed. + +The countess, having made all these reflections, turned to where M. +Fingret himself stood, with his hat in his hand, waiting for her +commands. + +"Madame?" said he in a tone of interrogation, advancing towards her. + +"Madame la Comtesse de la Motte Valois," said Jeanne. + +At this high-sounding name M. Fingret bowed low, and said: "But there is +nothing in this room worthy Madame la Comtesse's inspection. If madame +will take the trouble to step into the next one, she will see what is +new and beautiful." + +Jeanne colored. All this had seemed so splendid to her, too splendid +even to hope to possess it; and this high opinion of M. Fingret's +concerning her perplexed her not a little. She regretted that she had +not announced herself as a simple bourgeoise; but it was necessary to +speak, so she said, "I do not wish for new furniture." + +"Madame has doubtless some friend's apartments to furnish?" + +"Just so," she replied. + +"Will madame, then, choose?" said M. Fingret, who did not care whether +he sold new or old, as he gained equally by both. + +"This set," said Jeanne, pointing to the yellow silk one. + +"That is such a small set, madame." + +"Oh, the rooms are small." + +"It is nearly new, as madame may see." + +"But the price?" + +"Eight hundred francs." + +The price made the countess tremble; and how was she to confess that a +countess was content with second-hand things, and then could not afford +to pay eight hundred francs for them? She therefore thought the best +thing was to appear angry, and said: "Who thinks of buying, sir? Who do +you think would buy such old things? I only want to hire." + +Fingret made a grimace; his customer began gradually to lose her value +in his eyes. She did not want to buy new things, only to hire old ones, +"You wish it for a year?" he asked. + +"No, only for a month. It is for some one coming from the country." + +"It will be one hundred francs a month." + +"You jest, surely, monsieur; why, in eight months I should have paid the +full price of it." + +"Granted, Madame la Comtesse." + +"Well, is not that too bad?" + +"I shall have the expense of doing it up again when you return it." + +Madame de la Motte reflected. "One hundred francs a month is very dear, +certainly; but either I can return it at the end of that time and say it +is too dear, or I shall then perhaps be in a situation to buy." + +"I will take it," she said, "with curtains to match." + +"Yes, madame." + +"And carpets." + +"Here they are." + +"What can you give me for another room?" + +"These oak chairs, this table with twisted legs, and green damask +curtains." + +"And for a bedroom?" + +"A large and handsome bed, a counterpane of velvet embroidered in +rose-color and silver, an excellent couch, and blue curtains." + +"And for my dressing-room?" + +"A toilet-table hung with Mechlin lace; chest of drawers with +marqueterie; sofa and chairs of tapestry. The whole came from the +bedroom of Madame de Pompadour at Choisy." + +"All this for what price?" + +"For a month?" + +"Yes." + +"Four hundred francs." + +"Come, Monsieur Fingret, do not take me for a grisette who is dazzled by +your fine descriptions. Please to reflect that you are asking at the +rate of four thousand eight hundred francs a year, and for that I can +take a whole furnished house. You disgust me with the Place Royale." + +"I am very sorry, madame." + +"Prove it, then; I will only give half that price." Jeanne pronounced +these words with so much authority that the merchant began again to +think she might be worth conciliating. + +"So be it, then, madame." + +"And on one condition, M. Fingret." + +"What, madame?" + +"That everything be arranged in its proper place by three o'clock." + +"But consider, madame, it is now ten." + +"Can you do it or not?" + +"Where must they go to?" + +"Rue St. Claude." + +"Close by?" + +"Precisely." + +The upholsterer opened a door, and called, "Sylvain! Landry! Rémy!" + +Three men answered to the call. + +"The carts and the trucks instantly. Rémy, you shall take this yellow +furniture; Sylvain, you take that for the dining-room; and you, Landry, +that for the bedroom. Here is the bill, madame; shall I receipt it?" + +"Here are six double louis," she said, "and you can give the change to +these men if the order is completed in time;" and, having given her +address, she reentered her coach. + +On her return she engaged the third floor, and in a few hours all was in +order. + +The lodgings thus transformed, the windows cleaned, and the fires +lighted, Jeanne went again to her toilet, which she made as recherché as +possible, and then took a last look at all the delights around her. +Nothing had been forgotten: there were gilded branches from the walls +for wax-lights, and glass lusters on each side of the mirror; Jeanne had +also added flowers, to complete the embellishment of the paradise in +which she intended to receive his eminence. She took care even to leave +the door of the bedroom a little open, through which the light of a +bright fire gave a glimpse of the luxuries within. + +All these preparations completed, she seated herself in a chair by the +fire, with a book in her hand, listening eagerly to the sound of every +carriage that passed; but nine, ten, and eleven o'clock struck, and no +one came. Still she did not despair; it was not too late for a gallant +prelate, who had probably been first to some supper, and would come to +her from there. But at last twelve struck; no one appeared, the lights +were burning low, and the old servant, after many lamentations over her +new cap, had fallen asleep in her chair. + +At half-past twelve Jeanne rose furious from her chair, looked out of +window for the hundredth time, and, seeing no one near, undressed +herself and went to bed, refusing supper, or to answer any of the +remarks made to her by Clotilde; and on her sumptuous bed, under her +beautiful curtains, she experienced no better rest than she had on the +previous night. At last, however, her anger began a little to abate, and +she commenced framing excuses for the cardinal. He had so much to occupy +him, he must have been detained, and, most potent of all, he had not +yet seen her. She would not have been so easily consoled if he had +broken the promise of a second visit. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +THE CARDINAL DE ROHAN. + + +The next evening Jeanne, not discouraged, renewed all her preparations +of the night before; and on this occasion she had no time to grow +impatient, for at seven o'clock a carriage drove up to the door, from +which a gentleman got out. At the sound of the door-bell Jeanne's heart +beat so loud that you might almost have heard it; however, she composed +herself as well as she could, and in a few minutes Clotilde opened the +door, and announced the person who had written the day before yesterday. + +"Let him come in," said Jeanne; and a gentleman dressed in silk and +velvet, and with a lofty carriage, entered the room. + +Jeanne made a step forward, and said: "To whom have I the honor of +speaking?" + +"I am the Cardinal de Rohan," he replied; at which Madame de la Motte, +feigning to be overwhelmed with the honor, courtesied, as though he were +a king. Then she advanced an armchair for him, and placed herself in +another. + +The cardinal laid his hat on the table, and, looking at Jeanne, began: +"It is, then, true, mademoiselle----" + +"Madame," interrupted Jeanne. + +"Pardon me; I forgot." + +"My husband is called De la Motte, monseigneur." + +"Oh, yes; a gendarme, is he not?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"And you, madame, are a Valois?" + +"I am, monseigneur." + +"A great name," said the cardinal, "but rare--believed extinct." + +"Not extinct, sir, since I bear it, and as I have a brother, Baron de +Valois." + +"Recognized?" + +"That has nothing to do with it. Recognized or unrecognized, rich or +poor, he is still Baron de Valois." + +"Madame, explain to me this descent; it interests me; I love heraldry." + +Jeanne repeated all that the reader already knows. + +The cardinal listened and looked. He did not believe either her story or +her merit; but she was poor and pretty. + +"So that," he said carelessly, when she had finished, "you have really +been unfortunate." + +"I do not complain, monseigneur." + +"Indeed, I had heard a most exaggerated account of the difficulties of +your position; this lodging is commodious and well furnished." + +"For a grisette, no doubt," replied Jeanne. + +"What! do you call these rooms fit for a grisette?" + +"I do not think you can call them fit for a princess," replied Jeanne. + +"And you are a princess?" said he, in an ironical tone. + +"I was born a Valois, monseigneur, as you were a Rohan," said Jeanne, +with so much dignity that he felt a little touched by it. + +"Madame," said he, "I forgot that my first words should have been an +apology. I wrote to you that I would come yesterday, but I had to go to +Versailles to assist at the reception of M. de Suffren." + +"Monseigneur does me too much honor in remembering me to-day; and my +husband will more than ever regret the exile to which poverty compels +him, since it prevents him from sharing this favor with me." + +"You live alone, madame?" asked the cardinal. + +"Absolutely alone. I should be out of place in all society but that from +which my poverty debars me." + +"The genealogists do not contest your claim?" + +"No; but what good does it do me?" + +"Madame," continued the cardinal, "I shall be glad to know in what I can +serve you." + +"In nothing, monseigneur," she said. + +"How! in nothing? Pray be frank." + +"I cannot be more frank than I am." + +"You were complaining just now." + +"Certainly, I complain." + +"Well, then?" + +"Well, then, monseigneur, I see that you wish to bestow charity on me." + +"Oh, madame!" + +"Yes, sir, I have taken charity, but I will do so no more. I have borne +great humiliation." + +"Madame, you are wrong, there is no humiliation in misfortune." + +"Not even with the name I bear? Would you beg, M. de Rohan?" + +"I do not speak of myself," said he, with an embarrassment mingled with +hauteur. + +"Monseigneur, I only know two ways of begging: in a carriage, or at a +church door in velvet or in rags. Well, just now, I did not expect the +honor of this visit; I thought you had forgotten me." + +"Oh, you knew, then, that it was I who wrote?" + +"Were not your arms on the seal?" + +"However, you feigned not to know me." + +"Because you did not do me the honor to announce yourself." + +"This pride pleases me," said the cardinal. + +"I had then," continued Jeanne, "despairing of seeing you, taken the +resolution of throwing off all this flimsy parade, which covers my real +poverty, and of going in rags, like other mendicants, to beg my bread +from the passers-by." + +"You are not at the end of your resources, I trust, madame?" + +Jeanne did not reply. + +"You have some property, even if it be mortgaged? Some family jewels? +This, for example," and he pointed to a box, with which the delicate +fingers of the lady had been playing. "A singular box, upon my word! +Will you permit me to look? Oh, a portrait!" he continued, with a look +of great surprise. "Do you know the original of this portrait?" asked +Jeanne. + +"It is that of Maria Theresa." + +"Of Maria Theresa?" + +"Yes, the Empress of Austria." + +"Really!" cried Jeanne. "Are you sure, monseigneur?" + +"Where did you get it?" he asked. + +"From a lady who came the day before yesterday." + +"To see you?" + +"Yes." + +The cardinal examined the box with minute attention. + +"There were two ladies," continued Jeanne. + +"And one of them gave you this box?" said he, with evident suspicion. + +"No; she dropped it here." + +The cardinal remained thoughtful for some time, and then said, "What was +the name of this lady? I beg pardon for being inquisitive." + +"Indeed, it is a somewhat strange question." + +"Indiscreet, perhaps, but not strange." + +"Yes, very strange; for if I had known her name, I should have returned +it long before this." + +"Then, you know not who she is?" + +"I only know she is the head of some charitable house." + +"In Paris?" + +"No; in Versailles." + +"From Versailles; the head of a charitable house!" + +"Monseigneur, I accept charity from ladies; that does not so much +humiliate a poor woman; and this lady, who had heard of my wants, left a +hundred louis on my table when she went away." + +"A hundred louis!" said the cardinal in surprise; then, fearing to +offend, he added, "I am not astonished, madame, that they should give +you such a sum. You merit, on the contrary, all the solicitude of +charitable people, and your name makes it a duty to help you. It is +only the title of the Sister of Charity that surprised me, they are not +in the habit of giving such donations. Could you describe this lady to +me?" + +"Not easily, sir." + +"How so, since she came here?" + +"Yes, but she probably did not wish to be recognized, for she hid her +face as much as possible in her hood, and was besides, enveloped in +furs." + +"Well, but you saw something?" + +"My impressions were, that she had blue eyes, and a small mouth, though +the lips were rather thick." + +"Tall or short?" + +"Of middle height." + +"Her hands?" + +"Perfect." + +"Her throat?" + +"Long and slender." + +"Her expression?" + +"Severe and noble. But you, perhaps, know this lady, monseigneur?" + +"Why should you think so, madame?" + +"From the manner in which you question me; besides, there is a sympathy +between the doers of good works." + +"No, madame, I do not know her." + +"But, sir, if you had some suspicion." + +"How should I?" + +"Oh, from this portrait, perhaps." + +"Yes, certainly, the portrait," said the cardinal, rather uneasily. + +"Well, sir, this portrait you still believe to be that of Maria +Theresa?" + +"I believe so, certainly." + +"Then you think----?" + +"That you have received a visit from some German lady who has founded +one of these houses!" But it was evident that the cardinal doubted, and +he was pondering how this box, which he had seen a hundred times in the +hands of the queen, came into the possession of this woman. Had the +queen really been to see her? If she had been, was she indeed unknown to +Jeanne? Or, if not, why did she try to hide the knowledge from him. If +the queen had really been there, it was no longer a poor woman he had to +deal with, but a princess succored by a queen, who bestowed her gifts in +person. + +Jeanne saw that the cardinal was thoughtful, and even suspicious of her. +She felt uneasy, and knew not what to say. + +At last, however, he broke the silence by saying, "And the other lady?" + +"Oh, I could see her perfectly; she is tall and beautiful, with a +determined expression, and a brilliant complexion." + +"And the other lady did not name her?" + +"Yes, once; but by her Christian name." + +"What was it?" + +"Andrée." + +"Andrée!" repeated the cardinal, with a start. + +This name put an end to all his doubts. It was known that the queen had +gone to Paris on that day with Mademoiselle de Taverney. It was evident, +also, that Jeanne had no intention of deceiving him; she was telling all +she knew. Still, he would try one more proof. + +"Countess," he said, "one thing astonishes me, that you have not +addressed yourself to the king." + +"But, sir, I have sent him twenty petitions." + +"Without result?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, then, the princes of the blood; M. le Duc d'Orleans is +charitable, and often likes to do what the king refuses." + +"I have tried him, equally fruitlessly." + +"That astonishes me." + +"Oh, when one is poor, and not supported by any one----" + +"There is still the Comte d'Artois; sometimes dissipated men do more +generous actions than charitable ones." + +"It is the same story with him." + +"But the princesses, the aunts of the king, Madame Elizabeth +particularly, would refuse assistance to no one." + +"It is true, monseigneur, her royal highness, to whom I wrote, promised +to receive me; but, I know not why, after having received my husband, I +could never get any more notice from her." + +"It is strange, certainly," said the cardinal; then, as if the thought +had just struck him, he cried, "Ah! mon Dieu! but we are forgetting the +person to whom you should have addressed yourself first of all." + +"Whom do you mean?" + +"To the dispenser of all favors, she who never refuses help where it is +deserved--to the queen. Have you seen her?" + +"No," answered Jeanne. + +"You have never presented your petition to the queen?" + +"Never." + +"You have not tried to obtain an audience of her?" + +"I have tried, but failed." + +"Have you tried to throw yourself in her way, that she might remark +you?" + +"No, monseigneur." + +"But that is very strange." + +"I have only been twice to Versailles, and then saw but two persons +there; one was Doctor Louis, who had attended my poor father at the +Hôtel Dieu, and the other was M. le Baron de Taverney, to whom I had an +introduction." + +"What did M. de Taverney say to you? He might have brought you to the +queen." + +"He told me that I was very foolish to bring forward as a claim to the +benevolence of the king a relationship which would be sure to displease +him, as nobody likes poor relations." + +"I recognize the egotistical and rude old baron. Well," continued he, "I +will conduct you myself to Versailles, and will open the doors for +you." + +"Oh, monseigneur, how good you are," cried Jeanne, overwhelmed with joy. + +The cardinal approached her, and said, "It is impossible but that before +long all must interest themselves in you." + +"Alas! monseigneur," said Jeanne, with a sigh, "do you think so?" + +"I am sure of it." + +"I fear you flatter me," she said, looking earnestly at him, for she +could hardly believe in his sudden change of manner, he had been so cold +and suspicious at first. + +This look had no small effect on the cardinal; he began to think he had +never met a woman prettier or more attractive. "Ah, ma foi!" said he to +himself, with the eternally scheming spirit of a man used to diplomacy, +"it would be too extraordinary and too fortunate if I have met at once +an honest woman with the attractions of a scheming one, and found in +this poverty an able coadjutrix to my desires." + +"Monseigneur, the silence you keep every now and then disquiets me." + +"Why so, countess?" + +"Because a man like you only fails in politeness to two kinds of women." + +"Mon Dieu! countess, you frighten me. What are you about to say?" and he +took her hand. + +"I repeat it," said she, "with women that you love too much, or with +women whom you do not esteem enough to be polite to." + +"Countess, you make me blush. Have I, then, failed in politeness towards +you?" + +"Rather so, monseigneur; and yet you cannot love me too much, and I have +given you no cause to despise me." + +"Oh, countess, you speak as if you were angry with me." + +"No, monseigneur; you have not yet merited my anger." + +"And I never will, madame. From this day, in which I have had the +pleasure of making your acquaintance, my solicitude for you will not +cease." + +"Oh, sir, do not speak to me of your protection." + +"Oh, mon Dieu! I should humiliate myself, not you, in mentioning such a +thing;" and he pressed her hand, which he continued to hold, to his +lips. + +She tried to withdraw it; but he said, "Only politeness, madame," and +she let it remain. + +"To know," said she, "that I shall occupy a place, however small, in the +mind of a man so eminent and so busy, would console me for a year." + +"Let us hope the consolation will last longer than that, countess." + +"Well, perhaps so, monseigneur; I have confidence in you, because I feel +that you are capable of appreciating a mind like mine, adventurous, +brave, and pure, in spite of my poverty, and of the enemies which my +position has made me. Your eminence will, I am sure, discover all the +good that is in me, and be indulgent to all the rest." + +"We, are, then, warm friends, madame;" and he advanced towards her, but +his arms were a little more extended than the occasion required. She +avoided him, and said, laughing: + +"It must be a friendship among three, cardinal." + +"Among three?" + +"Doubtless, for there exists an exile, a poor gendarme, who is called M. +de la Motte." + +"Oh, countess, what a deplorably good memory you have!" + +"I must speak to you of him, that you may not forget him." + +"Do you know why I do not speak of him, countess?" + +"No; pray tell me." + +"Because he will speak enough for himself: husbands never let themselves +be forgotten. We shall hear that M. le Comte de la Motte found it good, +or found it bad, that the Cardinal de Rohan came two, three, or four +times a week to visit his wife." + +"Ah! but will you come so often, monseigneur?" + +"Without that, where would be our friendship? Four times! I should have +said six or seven." + +Jeanne laughed, "I should not indeed wonder in that case if people did +talk of it." + +"Oh! but we can easily prevent them." + +"How?" + +"Quite easily. The people know me----" + +"Certainly, monseigneur." + +"But you they have the misfortune not to know." + +"Well?" + +"Therefore, if you would----" + +"What, sir?" + +"Come out instead of me." + +"Come to your hotel, monseigneur?" + +"You would go to see a minister." + +"Oh! a minister is not a man." + +"You are adorable, countess. But I did not speak of my hotel; I have a +house----" + +"Oh! a petite maison?" + +"No; a house of yours." + +"A house of mine, cardinal! Indeed, I did not know it." + +"To-morrow, at ten o'clock, you shall have the address." + +The countess blushed; the cardinal took her hand again, and imprinted +another kiss upon it, at once bold, respectful, and tender. They then +bowed to each other. + +"Light monseigneur down," said the countess; and he went away. + +"Well," thought she, "I have made a great step in the world." + +"Come," said the cardinal to himself as he drove off, "I think I have +killed two birds with one stone; this woman has too much talent not to +catch the queen as she has caught me?" + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +MESMER AND ST. MARTIN. + + +The fashionable study in Paris at this time, and that which engrossed +most of those who had no business to attend to, was Mesmerism--a +mysterious science, badly defined by its discoverers, who did not wish +to render it too plain to the eyes of the people. Dr. Mesmer, who had +given to it his own name, was then in Paris, as we have already heard +from Marie Antoinette. + +This Doctor Mesmer deserves a few words from us, as his name was then in +all mouths. + +He had brought this science from Germany, the land of mysteries, in +1777. He had previously made his début there, by a theory on the +influence of the planets. He had endeavored to establish that these +celestial bodies, through the same power by which they attract each +other, exercised an influence over living bodies, and particularly over +the nervous system, by means of a subtle fluid with which the air is +impregnated. But this first theory was too abstract: one must, to +understand it, be initiated into all the sciences of Galileo or Newton; +and it would have been necessary, for this to have become popular, that +the nobility should have been transformed into a body of savants. He +therefore abandoned this system, and took up that of the loadstone, +which was then attracting great attention, people fancying that this +wonderful power was efficacious in curing illnesses. + +Unhappily for him, however, he found a rival in this already established +in Vienna; therefore he once more announced that he abandoned mineral +magnetism, and intended to effect his cures through animal magnetism. + +This, although a new name, was not in reality a new science; it was as +old as the Greeks and Egyptians, and had been preserved in traditions, +and revived every now and then by the sorcerers of the thirteenth, +fourteenth, and fifteenth centuries, many of whom had paid for their +knowledge with their lives. Urbain Grandier was nothing but an animal +magnetizer; and Joseph Balsamo we have seen practising it. Mesmer only +condensed this knowledge into a science, and gave it a name. He then +communicated his system to the scientific academies of Paris, London, +and Berlin. The two first did not answer him, and the third said that he +was mad. He came to France, and took out of the hands of Dr. Storck, and +of the oculist Wenzel, a young girl seventeen years old, who had a +complaint of the liver and gutta serena, and after three months of his +treatment, restored her health and her sight. + +This cure convinced many people, and among them a doctor called Deslon, +who, from his enemy, became his pupil. Prom this time his reputation +gradually increased; the academy declared itself against him, but the +court for him. At last the government offered him, in the king's name, +an income for life of twenty thousand francs to give lectures in public, +and ten thousand more to instruct three persons, who should be chosen by +them, in his system. + +Mesmer, however, indignant at the royal parsimony, refused, and set out +for the Spa waters with one of his patients; but while he was gone, +Deslon, his pupil, possessor of the secret which he had refused to sell +for thirty thousand francs a year, opened a public establishment for the +treatment of patients. Mesmer was furious, and exhausted himself in +complaints and menaces. One of his patients, however, M. de Bergasse, +conceived the idea of forming a company. They raised a capital of +340,000 francs, on the condition that the secret should be revealed to +the shareholders. It was a fortunate time: the people, having no great +public events to interest them, entered eagerly into every new amusement +and occupation; and this mysterious theory possessed no little +attraction, professing, as it did, to cure invalids, restore mind to the +fools, and amuse the wise. + +Everywhere Mesmer was talked of. What had he done? On whom had he +performed these miracles? To what great lord had he restored sight? To +what lady worn out with dissipation had he renovated the nerves? To what +young girl had he shown the future in a magnetic trance? The future! +that word of ever-entrancing interest and curiosity. + +Voltaire was dead; there was no one left to make France laugh, except +perhaps Beaumarchais, who was still more bitter than his master; +Rousseau was dead, and with him the sect of religious philosophers. War +had generally occupied strongly the minds of the French people, but now +the only war in which they were engaged was in America, where the people +fought for what they called independence, and what the French called +liberty; and even this distant war in another land, and affecting +another people, was on the point of termination. Therefore they felt +more interest just now in M. Mesmer, who was near, than in Washington or +Lord Cornwallis, who were so far off. Mesmer's only rival in the public +interest was St. Martin, the professor of spiritualism, as Mesmer was of +materialism, and who professed to cure souls, as he did bodies. + +Imagine an atheist with a religion more attractive than religion itself; +a republican full of politeness and interest for kings; a gentleman of +the privileged classes tender and solicitous for the people, endowed +with the most startling eloquence, attacking all the received religions +of the earth. + +Imagine Epicurus in white powder, embroidered coat, and silk stockings, +not content with endeavoring to overturn a religion in which he did not +believe, but also attacking all existing governments, and promulgating +the theory that all men are equal, or, to use his own words, that all +intelligent beings are kings. + +Imagine the effect of all this in society as it then was, without fixed +principles or steady guides, and how it was all assisting to light the +fire with which France not long after began to consume herself. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +THE BUCKET. + +We have endeavored to give an idea in the last chapter of the interest +and enthusiasm which drew such crowds of the people to see M. Mesmer +perform publicly his wonderful experiments. + +The king, as we know, had given permission to the queen to go and see +what all Paris was talking of, accompanied by one of the princesses. It +was two days after the visit of M. de Rohan to the countess. The weather +was fine, and the thaw was complete, and hundreds of sweepers were +employed in cleaning away the snow from the streets. The clear blue sky +was just beginning to be illumined by its first stars, when Madame de la +Motte, elegantly dressed, and presenting every appearance of opulence, +arrived in a coach, which Clotilde had carefully chosen as the best +looking at the Place Vendôme, and stopped before a brilliantly-lighted +house. + +It was that of Doctor Mesmer. Numbers of other carriages were waiting at +the door, and a crowd of people had collected to see the patients arrive +and depart, who seemed to derive much pleasure when they saw some rich +invalid, enveloped in furs and satins, carried in by footmen, from the +evident proof it afforded that God made men healthy or unhealthy, +without reference to their purses or their genealogies. A universal +murmur would arise when they recognized some duke paralyzed in an arm or +leg; or some marshal whose feet refused their office, less in +consequence of military fatigues and marches than from halts made with +the ladies of the Opera, or of the Comédie Italienne. Sometimes it was a +lady carried in by her servants with drooping head and languid eye, who, +weakened by late hours and an irregular life, came to demand from +Doctor Mesmer the health she had vainly sought to regain elsewhere. + +Many of these ladies were as well known as the gentlemen, but a great +many escaped the public gaze, especially on this evening, by wearing +masks; for there was a ball at the Opera that night, and many of them +intended to drive straight there when they left the doctor's house. + +Through this crowd Madame de la Motte walked erect and firm, also with a +mask on, and elicited only the exclamation, "This one does not look ill, +at all events." + +Ever since the cardinal's visit, the attention with which he had +examined the box and portrait had been on Jeanne's mind; and she could +not but feel that all his graciousness commenced after seeing it, and +she therefore felt proportionate curiosity to learn more about it. + +First she had gone to Versailles to inquire at all the houses of charity +about German ladies; but there were there, perhaps, a hundred and fifty +or two hundred, and all Jeanne's inquiries about the two ladies who had +visited her had proved fruitless. In vain she repeated that one of them +was called Andrée; no one knew a German lady of that name, which indeed +was not German. Baffled in this, she determined to try elsewhere, and +having heard much of M. Mesmer, and the wonderful secrets revealed +through him, determined upon going there. Many were the stories of this +kind in circulation. Madame de Duras had recovered a child who had been +lost; Madame de Chantoué, an English dog, not much bigger than her fist, +for which she would have given all the children in the world; and M. de +Vaudreuil a lock of hair, which he would have bought back with half his +fortune. All these revelations had been made by clairvoyants after the +magnetic operations of Doctor Mesmer. + +Those who came to see him, after traversing the ante-chambers, were +admitted into a large room, from which the darkened and hermetically +closed windows excluded light and air. In the middle of this room, under +a luster which gave but a feeble light, was a vast unornamented tank, +filled with water impregnated with sulphur, and to the cover of which +was fastened an iron ring; attached to this ring was a long chain, the +object of which we shall presently see. + +All the patients were seated round the room, men and women +indiscriminately; then a valet, taking the chain, wound it round the +limbs of the patients, so that they might all feel, at the same time, +the effects of the electricity contained in the tank; they were then +directed to touch each other in some way, either by the shoulder, the +elbow, or the feet, and each was to take in his hand a bar of iron, +which was also connected with the tank, and to place it to the heart, +head, or whatever was the seat of the malady. When they were all ready, +a soft and pleasing strain of music, executed by invisible performers, +was heard. Among the most eager of the crowd, on the evening of which we +speak, was a young, distinguished-looking, and beautiful woman, with a +graceful figure, and rather showily dressed, who pressed the iron to her +heart with wonderful energy, rolling her beautiful eyes, and beginning +to show, in the trembling of her hands, the first effects of the +electric fluid. + +As she constantly threw back her head, resting it on the cushions of her +chair, all around could see perfectly her pale but beautiful face, and +her white throat. Many seemed to look at her with great astonishment, +and a general whispering commenced among those who surrounded her. + +Madame de la Motte was one of the most curious of the party; and of all +she saw around her, nothing attracted her attention so much as this +young lady, and after gazing earnestly at her for some time, she at last +murmured, "Oh! it is she, there is no doubt. It is the lady who came to +see me the other day." And convinced that she was not mistaken, she +advanced towards her, congratulating herself that chance had effected +for her what she had so long been vainly trying to accomplish; but at +this moment the young lady closed her eyes, contracted her mouth, and +began to beat the air feebly with her hands, which hands, however, did +not seem to Jeanne the white and beautiful ones she had seen in her +room a few days before. + +The patients now began to grow excited under the influence of the fluid. +Men and women began to utter sighs, and even cries, moving convulsively +their heads, arms, and legs. Then a man suddenly made his appearance; no +one had seen him enter; you might have fancied he came out of the tank. +He was dressed in a lilac robe, and held in his hand a long wand, which +he several times dipped into the mysterious tank; then he made a sign, +the doors opened, and twenty robust servants entered, and seizing such +of the patients as began to totter on their seats, carried them into an +adjoining room. + +While this was going on Madame de la Motte heard a man who had +approached near to the young lady before-mentioned, and who was in a +perfect paroxysm of excitement, say in a loud voice, "It is surely she!" +Jeanne was about to ask him who she was, when her attention was drawn to +two ladies who were just entering, followed by a man, who, though +disguised as a bourgeois, had still the appearance of a servant. + +The tournure of one of these ladies struck Jeanne so forcibly that she +made a step towards them, when a cry from the young woman near her +startled every one. The same man whom Jeanne had heard speak before now +called out, "But look, gentlemen, it is the queen." + +"The queen!" cried many voices, in surprise. "The queen here! The queen +in that state! Impossible!" + +"But look," said he again; "do you know the queen, or not?" + +"Indeed," said many, "the resemblance is incredible." + +"Monsieur," said Jeanne to the speaker, who was a stout man, with quick +observant eyes, "did you say the queen?" + +"Oh! madame, there is no doubt of it." + +"And where is she?" + +"Why, that young lady that you see there, on the violet cushions, and in +such a state that she cannot moderate her transports, is the queen." + +"But on what do you found such an idea, monsieur?" + +"Simply because it is the queen." And he left Jeanne to go and spread +his news among the rest. + +She turned from the almost revolting spectacle, and going near to the +door, found herself face to face with the two ladies she had seen enter. +Scarcely had she seen the elder one than she uttered a cry of surprise. + +"What is the matter?" asked the lady. + +Jeanne took off her mask, and asked, "Do you recognize me, madame?" + +The lady made, but quickly suppressed, a movement of surprise, and said, +"No, madame." + +"Well, madame, I recognize you, and will give you a proof;" and she drew +the box from her pocket, saying, "you left this at my house." + +"But supposing this to be true, what makes you so agitated?" + +"I am agitated by the danger that your majesty is incurring here." + +"Explain yourself." + +"Not before you have put on this mask;" and she offered hers to the +queen, who, however, did not take it. + +"I beg your majesty; there is not an instant to lose." + +The queen put on the mask. "And now, pray come away," added Jeanne. + +"But why?" said the queen. + +"Your majesty has not been seen by any one?" + +"I believe not." + +"So much the better." + +The queen mechanically moved to the door, but said again, "Will you +explain yourself?" + +"Will not your majesty believe your humble servant for the present, that +you were running a great risk?" + +"But what risk?" + +"I will have the honor to tell your majesty whenever you will grant me +an hour's audience; but it would take too long now;" and seeing that the +queen looked displeased, "Pray, madame," said she, turning to the +Princess Lamballe, "join your petitions to mine that the queen should +leave this place immediately." + +"I think we had better, madame," said the princess. + +"Well, then, I will," answered the queen; then, turning to Madame de la +Motte, "You ask for an audience?" she said. + +"I beg for that honor, that I may explain this conduct to your majesty." + +"Well, bring this box with you, and you shall be admitted; Laurent, the +porter, shall have orders to do so." Then going into the street, she +called in German, "Kommen sie da, Weber." + +A carriage immediately drove up, they got in, and were immediately out +of sight. + +When they were gone, Madame de la Motte said to herself, "I have done +right in this--for the rest, I must consider." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +MADEMOISELLE OLIVA. + + +During this time, the man who had pointed out the fictitious queen to +the people touched on the shoulder another man who stood near him, in a +shabby dress, and said. "For you, who are a journalist, here is a fine +subject for an article." + +"How so?" replied the man. + +"Shall I tell you?" + +"Certainly." + +"The danger of being governed by a king who is governed by a queen who +indulges in such paroxysms as these." + +The journalist laughed. "But the Bastile?" he said. + +"Pooh, nonsense! I do not mean you to write it out plainly. Who can +interfere with you if you relate the history of Prince Silou and the +Princess Etteniotna, Queen of Narfec? What do you say to that?" + +"It is an admirable idea!" said the journalist. + +"And I do not doubt that a pamphlet called 'The Paroxysms of the +Princess Etteniotna at the house of the Fakeer Remsem' would have a +great success." + +"I believe it also." + +"Then go and do it." + +The journalist pressed the hand of the unknown. "Shall I send you some +copies, sir? I will with pleasure if you will give me your name." + +"Certainly; the idea pleases me. What is the usual circulation of your +journal?" + +"Two thousand." + +"Then do me a favor: take these fifty louis, and publish six thousand." + +"Oh, sir, you overwhelm me. May I not know the name of such a generous +patron of literature?" + +"You shall know, when I call for one thousand copies--at two francs +each, are they not? Will they be ready in a week?" + +"I will work night and day, monsieur." + +"Let it be amusing." + +"It shall make all Paris die with laughing, except one person." + +"Who will weep over it. Apropos, date the publication from London." + +"Sir, I am your humble servant." And the journalist took his leave, with +his fifty louis in his pocket, highly delighted. + +The unknown again turned to look at the young woman, who had now +subsided into a state of exhaustion, and looked beautiful as she lay +there. "Really," he said to himself, "the resemblance is frightful. God +had his motives in creating it, and has no doubt condemned her to whom +the resemblance is so strong." + +While he made these reflections, she rose slowly from the midst of the +cushions, assisting herself with the arm of an attendant, and began to +arrange her somewhat disordered toilet, and then traversed the rooms, +confronting boldly the looks of the people. She was somewhat astonished, +however, when she found herself saluted with deep and respectful bows by +a group which had already been assembled by the indefatigable stranger, +who kept whispering, "Never mind, gentlemen, never mind, she is still +the Queen of France; let us salute her." She next entered the courtyard, +and looked about for a coach or chair, but, seeing none, was about to +set off on foot, when a footman approached and said, "Shall I call +madame's carriage?" + +"I have none," she replied. + +"Madame came in a coach?" + +"Yes." + +"From the Rue Dauphine?" + +"Yes." + +"I will take madame home." + +"Do so, then," said she, although somewhat surprised at the offer. + +The man made a sign, and a carriage drove up. He opened the door for +her, and then said to the coachman, "To the Rue Dauphine." They set off, +and the young woman, who much approved of this mode of transit, +regretted she had not further to go. They soon stopped, however; the +footman handed her out, and immediately drove off again. + +"Really," said she to herself, "this is an agreeable adventure; it is +very gallant of M. Mesmer. Oh, I am very tired, and he must have +foreseen that. He is a great doctor." + +Saying these words, she mounted to the second story, and knocked at a +door, which was quickly opened by an old woman. + +"Is supper ready, mother?" + +"Yes, and growing cold." + +"Has he come?" + +"No, not yet, but the gentleman has." + +"What gentleman?" + +"He who was to speak to you this evening." + +"To me?" + +"Yes." + +This colloquy took place in a kind of ante-chamber opening into her +room, which was furnished with old curtains of yellow silk, chairs of +green Utrecht velvet, not very new, and an old yellow sofa. + +She opened the door, and, going in, saw a man seated on the sofa whom +she did not know in the least, although we do, for it was the same man +whom we have seen taking so much interest in her at Mesmer's. + +She had not time to question him, for he began immediately: "I know all +that you are going to ask, and will tell you without asking. You are +Mademoiselle Oliva, are you not?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"A charming person, highly nervous, and much taken by the system of M. +Mesmer." + +"I have just left there." + +"All this, however, your beautiful eyes are saying plainly, does not +explain what brings me here." + +"You are right, sir." + +"Will you not do me the favor to sit down, or I shall be obliged to get +up also, and that is an uncomfortable way of talking." + +"Really, sir, you have very extraordinary manners." + +"Mademoiselle, I saw you just now at M. Mesmer's, and found you to be +all I could wish." + +"Sir!" + +"Do not alarm yourself, mademoiselle. I do not tell you that I found you +charming--that would seem like a declaration of love, and I have no such +intention. I know that you are accustomed to have yourself called +beautiful, but I, who also think so, have other things to talk to you +about." + +"Really, sir, the manner in which you speak to me----" + +"Do not get angry before you have heard me. Is there any one that can +overhear us?" + +"No, sir, no one. But still----" + +"Then, if no one can hear, we can converse at our ease. What do you say +to a little partnership between us?" + +"Really, sir----" + +"Do not misunderstand; I do not say 'liaison'--I say partnership; I am +not talking of love, but of business." + +"What kind of business?" said Oliva, with growing curiosity. + +"What do you do all day?" + +"Why, I do nothing, or, at least, as little as possible." + +"You have no occupation--so much the better. Do you like walking?" + +"Very much." + +"To see sights, and go to balls?" + +"Excessively." + +"To live well?" + +"Above all things." + +"If I gave you twenty-five louis a month, would you refuse me?" + +"Sir!" + +"My dear Mademoiselle Oliva, now you are beginning to doubt me again, +and it was agreed that you were to listen quietly. I will say fifty +louis if you like." + +"I like fifty louis better than twenty-five, but what I like better than +either is to be able to choose my own lover." + +"Morbleu! but I have already told you that I do not desire to be your +lover. Set your mind at ease about that." + +"Then what am I to do to earn my fifty louis?" + +"You must receive me at your house, and always be glad to see me. Walk +out with me whenever I desire it, and come to me whenever I send for +you." + +"But I have a lover, sir." + +"Well, dismiss him." + +"Oh, Beausire cannot be sent away like that!" + +"I will help you." + +"No; I love him." + +"Oh!" + +"A little." + +"That is just a little too much." + +"I cannot help it." + +"Then he may stop." + +"You are very obliging." + +"Well--but do my conditions suit you?" + +"Yes, if you have told me all." + +"I believe I have said all I wish to say now." + +"On your honor?" + +"On my honor." + +"Very well." + +"Then that is settled; and here is the first month in advance." + +He held out the money, and, as she still seemed to hesitate a little, +slipped it himself into her pocket. + +Scarcely had he done so, when a knock at the door made Oliva run to the +window. "Good God!" she cried; "escape quickly; here he is!" + +"Who?" + +"Beausire, my lover. Be quick, sir!" + +"Nonsense!" + +"He will half murder you." + +"Bah!" + +"Do you hear how he knocks?" + +"Well, open the door." And he sat down again on the sofa, saying to +himself, "I must see this fellow, and judge what he is like." + +The knocks became louder, and mingled with oaths. + +"Go, mother, and open the door," cried Oliva. "As for you, sir, if any +harm happens to you, it is your own fault." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +MONSIEUR BEAUSIRE. + + +Oliva ran to meet a man, who came in swearing furiously, and in a +frightful passion. + +"Come, Beausire," said she, apparently not at all frightened. + +"Let me alone!" cried he, shaking her off brutally. "Ah! I see, it was +because there is a man here that the door was not opened!" And as the +visitor remained perfectly still, he advanced furiously towards him, +saying, "Will you answer me, sir?" + +"What do you want to know, my dear M. Beausire?" + +"What are you doing here, and who are you?" + +"I am a very quiet man, and I was simply talking to madame." + +"That was all," said Oliva. + +"Will you hold your tongue?" bawled Beausire. + +"Now," said the visitor, "do not be so rude to madame, who has done +nothing to deserve it; and if you are in a bad temper----" + +"Yes, I am." + +"He must have lost at cards," murmured Oliva. + +"I am cleaned out, mort de diable!" cried Beausire. "But you, sir, will +do me the favor to leave this room." + +"But, M. Beausire----" + +"Diable! if you do not go immediately it will be the worse for you." + +"You did not tell me, mademoiselle, that he was troubled with these +fits. Good heavens! what ferocity!" + +Beausire, exasperated, drew his sword, and roared, "If you do not move, +I will pin you to the sofa!" + +"Really, it is impossible to be more disagreeable," said the visitor, +also drawing a small sword, which they had not before seen. + +Oliva uttered piercing shrieks. + +"Oh, mademoiselle, pray be quiet," said he, "or two things will happen: +first, you will stun M. Beausire, and he will get killed; secondly, the +watch will come up and carry you straight off to St. Lazare." + +Oliva ceased her cries. + +The scene that ensued was curious. Beausire, furious with rage, was +making wild and unskilful passes at his adversary, who, still seated on +the sofa, parried them with the utmost ease, laughing immoderately all +the time. + +Beausire began to grow tired and also frightened, for he felt that if +this man, who was now content to stand on the defensive, were to attack +him in his turn, he should be done for in a moment. Suddenly, however, +by a skilful movement, the stranger sent Beausire's sword flying across +the room; it went through an open window, and fell into the street. + +"Oh, M. Beausire," said he, "you should take more care; if your sword +falls on any one, it will kill him." + +Beausire ran down at his utmost speed to fetch his sword, and meanwhile, +Oliva, seizing the hand of the victor, said: + +"Oh, sir, you are very brave; but as soon as you are gone, Beausire will +beat me." + +"Then I will remain." + +"Oh, no; when he beats me, I beat him in return, and I always get the +best of it, because I am not obliged to take any care; so if you would +but go, sir----" + +"But, my dear, if I go now, I shall meet M. Beausire on the stairs; +probably the combat will recommence, and as I shall not feel inclined to +stand on the staircase, I shall have to kill M. Beausire." + +"Mon Dieu! it is true." + +"Well, then, to avoid that I will remain here." + +"No, sir, I entreat; go up to the next story, and as soon as he returns +to this room I will lock the door and take the key, and you can walk +away while we fight it out." + +"You are a charming girl. Au revoir!" + +"Till when?" + +"To-night, if you please." + +"To-night! are you mad?" + +"Not at all; but there is a ball at the Opera to-night." + +"But it is now midnight." + +"That does not matter." + +"I should want a domino." + +"Beausire will fetch it when you have beaten him." + +"You are right," said Oliva, laughing. + +"And here are ten louis to buy it with." + +"Adieu! and thanks." And she pushed him out, saying, "Quick! he is +coming back." + +"But if by chance he should beat you, how will you let me know?" + +She reflected a moment. "You have a servant?" + +"Yes." + +"Send him here, and let him wait under the window till I let a note +fall." + +"I will. Adieu!" And he went up-stairs. + +Oliva drowned the sound of his footsteps by calling loudly to Beausire, +"Are you coming back, madman?" for he did not seem in much hurry to +reencounter his formidable adversary. At last, however, he came up. +Oliva was standing outside the door; she pushed him in, locked it, and +put the key in her pocket. + +Before the stranger left the house, he heard the noise of the combat +begin, and both voices loud and furious. "There is no doubt," said he to +himself, "that this woman knows how to take care of herself." His +carriage was waiting for him at the corner of the street, but before +getting in he spoke to the footman, who thereupon stationed himself +within view of Mademoiselle Oliva's windows. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +GOLD. + + +We must now return to the interior of the room. Beausire was much +surprised to see Oliva lock the door, and still more so not to see his +adversary. He began to feel triumphant, for if he was hiding from him he +must, he thought, be afraid of him. He therefore began to search for +him; but Oliva talked so loud and fast that he advanced towards her to +try and stop her, but was received with a box on the ear, which he +returned in kind. Oliva replied by throwing a china vase at his head, +and his answer was a blow with a cane. She, furious, flew at him and +seized him by the throat, and he, trying to free himself, tore her +dress. + +Then, with a cry, she pushed him from her with such force that he fell +in the middle of the room. + +He began to get tired of this, so he said, without commencing another +attack, "You are a wicked creature; you ruin me." + +"On the contrary, it is you who ruin me." + +"Oh, I ruin her!--she who has nothing!" + +"Say that I have nothing now, say that you have eaten, and drank, and +played away all that I had." + +"You reproach me with my poverty." + +"Yes, for it comes from your vices." + +"Do not talk of vices; it only remained for you to take a lover." + +"And what do you call all those wretches who sit by you in the +tennis-court, where you play?" + +"I play to live." + +"And nicely you succeed; we should die of hunger from your industry." + +"And you, with yours, are obliged to cry if you get your dress torn, +because you have nothing to buy another with." + +"I do better than you, at all events;" and, putting her hand in her +pocket, she drew out some gold and threw it across the room. + +When Beausire saw this, he remained stupefied. + +"Louis!" cried he at last. + +She took out some more, and threw them in his face. + +"Oh!" cried he, "Oliva has become rich!" + +"This is what my industry brings in," said she, pushing him with her +foot as he kneeled down to pick up the gold. + +"Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen," counted he, joyfully. + +"Miserable wretch!" said Oliva. + +"Nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two." + +"Coward!" + +"Twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five." + +"Infamous wretch!" + +He got up. "And so, mademoiselle, you have been saving money when you +kept me without necessaries. You let me go about in an old hat, darned +stockings, and patched clothes, while you had all this money! Where +does it come from! From the sale of my things?" + +"Scoundrel!" murmured Oliva, looking at him with contempt. + +"But I pardon your avarice," continued he. + +"You would have killed me just now," said Oliva. + +"Then I should have been right; now I should be wrong to do it." + +"Why, if you please?" + +"Because now you contribute to our ménage." + +"You are a base wretch.'" + +"My little Oliva!" + +"Give me back my money." + +"Oh, my darling!" + +"If you do not, I will pass your own sword through your body!" + +"Oliva!" + +"Will you give it?" + +"Oh, you would not take it away?" + +"Ah, coward! you beg, you solicit for the fruits of my bad conduct--that +is what they call a man! I have always despised you." + +"I gave to you when I could, Nicole." + +"Do not call me Nicole." + +"Pardon, then, Oliva. But is it not true?" + +"Fine presents, certainly: some silver buckles, six louis d'or, two silk +dresses, and three embroidered handkerchiefs." + +"It is a great deal for a soldier." + +"Hold your tongue! The buckles you stole from some one else, the louis +d'or you borrowed and never returned, the silk dresses----" + +"Oliva! Oliva!" + +"Give me back my money." + +"What shall I give you instead?" + +"Double the quantity." + +[Illustration: THE QUEEN'S NECKLACE + +_Dumas. Vol. Eight_] + +"Well," said the rogue, gravely, "I will go to the Rue de Bussy and play +with it, and bring you back, not the double, but the quintuple;" and +he made two steps to the door. + +She caught him by the coat. + +"There," said he, "you have torn my coat." + +"Never mind; you shall have a new one." + +"That will be six louis, Oliva. Luckily, at the Rue de Bussy they are +not particular about dress." + +Oliva seized hold of the other tail, and tore it right off. + +Beausire became furious. + +"Mort de tous les diables!" cried he, "you will make me kill you at +last! You are tearing me to bits! Now I cannot go out." + +"On the contrary, you must go out immediately." + +"Without a coat?" + +"Put on your great-coat." + +"It is all in holes." + +"Then do not put it on; but you must go out." + +"I will not." + +She took out of her pocket another handful of gold, and put it into his +hands. + +Beausire kneeled at her feet and cried, "Order, and I will obey!" + +"Go quickly to the Capucin, Rue de Seine, where they sell dominoes for +the bal masque, and buy me one complete, mask and all." + +"Good." + +"And one for yourself--black, but mine white; and I only give you twenty +minutes to do it in." + +"Are we going to the ball?" + +"Yes, if you are obedient." + +"Oh, always." + +"Go, then, and show your zeal." + +"I run; but the money?" + +"You have twenty-five louis, that you picked up." + +"Oh, Oliva, I thought you meant to give me those." + +"You shall have more another time, but if I give you them now, you will +stop and play." + +"She is right," said he to himself; "that is just what I intended to +do;" and he set off. + +As soon as he was gone, Oliva wrote rapidly these words: "The peace is +signed, and the ball decided on; at two o'clock we shall be at the +Opera. I shall wear a white domino, with a blue ribbon on my left +shoulder." Then, rolling this round a bit of the broken vase, she went +to the window and threw it out. + +The valet picked it up, and made off immediately. + +In less than half an hour M. Beausire returned, followed by two men, +bringing, at the cost of eighteen louis, two beautiful dominoes, such as +were only turned out at the Capucin, makers to her majesty and the maids +of honor. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +LA PETITE MAISON. + + +We left Madame de la Motte at M. Mesmer's door, watching the queen's +carriage as it drove off. Then she went home; for she also intended to +put on a domino, and indulge herself by going to the Opera. But a +contretemps awaited her: a man was waiting at her door with a note from +the Cardinal de Rohan. She opened it, and read as follows: + + "Madame la Comtesse, you have doubtless not forgotten that we have + business together; even if you have a short memory, I never forget + what has pleased me. I shall have the honor to wait for you where + my messenger will conduct you, if you please to come." + +Jeanne, although rather vexed, immediately reentered the coach, and told +the footman to get on the box with the coachman. Ten minutes sufficed to +bring her to the entrance of the Faubourg St. Antoine, where, in a +hollow and completely hidden by great trees, was one of those pretty +houses built in the time of Louis XV., with all the taste of the +sixteenth, with the comfort of the eighteenth, century. + +"Oh, oh! a petite maison!" said she to herself. "It is very natural on +the part of M. de Rohan, but very humiliating for Valois. But, +patience." + +She was led from room to room till she came to a small dining-room, +fitted up with exquisite taste. There she found the cardinal waiting for +her. He was looking over some pamphlets, but rose immediately on seeing +her. + +"Ah, here you are. Thanks, Madame la Comtesse," and he approached to +kiss her hand; but she drew back with a reproachful and indignant air. + +"What is the matter, madame?" he asked. + +"You are, doubtless, not accustomed, monseigneur, to receive such a +greeting from the women whom your eminence is in the habit of summoning +here." + +"Oh! madame." + +"We are in your petite maison, are we not, sir?" continued she, looking +disdainfully around her. + +"But, madame----" + +"I had hoped that your eminence would have deigned to remember in what +rank I was born. I had hoped that you would have been pleased to +consider, that if God has made me poor, He has at least left me the +pride of my race." + +"Come, come, countess, I took you for a woman of intellect." + +"You call a woman of intellect, it appears, monseigneur, every one who +is indifferent to, and laughs at, everything, even dishonor. To these +women, pardon me, your eminence, I have been in the habit of giving a +different name." + +"No, countess, you deceive yourself; I call a woman of intellect one who +listens when you speak to her, and does not speak before having +listened." + +"I listen, then." + +"I had to speak to you of serious matters, countess." + +"Therefore you receive me in a dining-room." + +"Why, would you have preferred my receiving you in a boudoir?" + +"The distinction is nice," said she. + +"I think so, countess." + +"Then I am simply to sup with you?" + +"Nothing else." + +"I trust your eminence is persuaded that I feel the honor as I ought." + +"You are quizzing, countess." + +"No, I only laugh; would you rather I were angry? You are difficult to +please, monseigneur." + +"Oh; you are charming when you laugh, and I ask nothing better than to +see you always doing so; but at this moment you are not laughing; oh, +no! there is anger in that smile which shows your beautiful teeth." + +"Not the least in the world, monseigneur." + +"That is good." + +"And I hope you will sup well." + +"I shall sup well, and you?" + +"Oh, I am not hungry." + +"How, madame, you refuse to sup with me--you send me away?" + +"I do not understand you, monseigneur." + +"Listen, dear countess; if you were less in a passion, I would tell you +that it is useless to behave like this--you are always equally charming; +but as at each compliment I fear to be dismissed, I abstain." + +"You fear to be dismissed? Really, I beg pardon of your eminence, but +you become unintelligible." + +"It is, however, quite clear, what I say. The other day, when I came to +see you, you complained that you were lodged unsuitably to your rank. I +thought, therefore, that to restore you to your proper place would be +like restoring air to the bird whom the experimenter has placed under +his air-pump. Consequently, beautiful countess, that you might receive +me with pleasure, and that I, on my part, might visit you without +compromising either you or myself----" He stopped and looked at her. + +"Well!" she said. + +"I hoped that you would deign to accept this small residence; you +observe, I do not call it 'petite maison.'" + +"Accept! you give me this house, monseigneur?" said Jeanne, her heart +beating with eagerness. + +"A very small gift, countess; but if I had offered you more, you would +have refused." + +"Oh, monseigneur, it is impossible for me to accept this." + +"Impossible, why? Do not say that word to me, for I do not believe in +it. The house belongs to you, the keys are here on this silver plate; do +you find out another humiliation in this?" + +"No, but----" + +"Then accept." + +"Monseigneur, I have told you." + +"How, madame? you write to the ministers for a pension, you accept a +hundred louis from an unknown lady----" + +"Oh, monseigneur, it is different." + +"Come, I have waited for you in your dining-room. I have not yet seen +the boudoir, nor the drawing-room, nor the bedrooms, for I suppose there +are all these." + +"Oh, monseigneur, forgive me; you force me to confess that you the most +delicate of men," and she blushed with the pleasure she had been so long +restraining. But checking herself, she sat down and said, "Now, will +your eminence give me my supper?" + +The cardinal took off his cloak, and sat down also. + +Supper was served in a few moments. Jeanne put on her mask before the +servants came in. + +"It is I who ought to wear a mask," said the cardinal, "for you are at +home, among your own people." + +Jeanne laughed, but did not take hers off. In spite of her pleasure and +surprise, she made a good supper. The cardinal was a man of much talent, +and from his great knowledge of the world and of women, he was a man +difficult to contend with, and he thought that this country girl, full +of pretension, but who, in spite of her pride, could not conceal her +greediness, would be an easy conquest, worth undertaking on account of +her beauty, and of a something piquant about her, very pleasing to a +man "blasé" like him. He therefore never took pains to be much on his +guard with her; and she, more cunning than he thought, saw through his +opinion of her, and tried to strengthen it by playing the provincial +coquette, and appearing silly, that her adversary might be in reality +weak in his over-confidence. + +The cardinal thought her completely dazzled by the present he had made +her--and so, indeed, she was; but he forgot that he himself was below +the mark of the ambition of a woman like Jeanne. + +"Come," said he, pouring out for her a glass of cyprus wine, "as you +have signed your contract with me, you will not be unfriendly any more, +countess." + +"Oh no!" + +"You will receive me here sometimes without repugnance?" + +"I shall never be so ungrateful as to forget whose house this really +is." + +"Not mine." + +"Oh yes, monseigneur." + +"Do not contradict me, I advise you, or I shall begin to impose +conditions." + +"You take care on your part----" + +"Of what?" + +"Why, I am at home here, you know, and if your conditions are +unreasonable, I shall call my servants----" + +The cardinal laughed. + +"Ah, you laugh, sir; you think if I call they will not come." + +"Oh, you quite mistake, countess. I am nothing here, only your guest. +Apropos," continued he, as if it had just entered his head, "have you +heard anything more of the ladies who came to see you?" + +"The ladies of the portrait?" said Jeanne, who, now knowing the queen, +saw through the artifice. + +"Yes, the ladies of the portrait." + +"Monseigneur, you know them as well and even better than I do, I feel +sure." + +"Oh, countess, you do me wrong. Did you not express a wish to learn who +they were?" + +"Certainly; it is natural to desire to know your benefactors." + +"Well, if knew, I should have told you." + +"M. le Cardinal, you do know them." + +"No." + +"If you repeat that 'no,' I shall have to call you a liar." + +"I shall know how to avenge that insult." + +"How?" + +"With a kiss." + +"You know the portrait of Maria Theresa?" + +"Certainly, but what of that?" + +"That, having recognized this portrait, you must have had some suspicion +of the person to whom it belonged." + +"And why?" + +"Because it was natural to think that the portrait of a mother would +only be in the hands of her daughter." + +"The queen!" cried the cardinal, with so truthful a tone of surprise +that it duped even Jeanne. "Do you really think the queen came to see +you?" + +"And you did not suspect it?" + +"Mon Dieu, no! how should I? I, who speak to you, am neither son, +daughter, nor even relation of Maria Theresa, yet I have a portrait of +her about me at this moment. Look," said he--and he drew out a snuff-box +and showed it to her; "therefore you see that if I, who am in no way +related to the imperial house, carry about such a portrait, another +might do the same, and yet be a stranger." + +Jeanne was silent--she had nothing to answer. + +"Then it is your opinion," he went on, "that you have had a visit from +the queen, Marie Antoinette." + +"The queen and another lady." + +"Madame de Polignac?" + +"I do not know." + +"Perhaps Madame de Lamballe?" + +"A young lady, very beautiful and very serious." + +"Oh, perhaps Mademoiselle de Taverney." + +"It is possible; I do not know her." + +"Well, if her majesty has really come to visit you, you are sure of her +protection. It is a great step towards your fortune." + +"I believe it, monseigneur." + +"And her majesty was generous to you?" + +"She gave me a hundred louis." + +"And she is not rich, particularly now." + +"That doubles my gratitude." + +"Did she show much interest in you?" + +"Very great." + +"Then all goes well," said the prelate; "there only remains one thing +now--to penetrate to Versailles." + +The countess smiled. + +"Ah, countess, it is not so easy." + +She smiled again, more significantly than before. + +"Really, you provincials," said he, "doubt nothing; because you have +seen Versailles with the doors open, and stairs to go up, you think any +one may open these doors and ascend these stairs. Have you seen the +monsters of brass, of marble, and of lead, which adorn the park and the +terraces?" + +"Yes." + +"Griffins, gorgons, ghouls, and other ferocious beasts. Well, you will +find ten times as many, and more wicked, living animals between you and +the favor of sovereigns." + +"Your eminence will aid me to pass through the ranks of these monsters." + +"I will try, but it will be difficult. And if you pronounce my name, if +you discover your talisman, it will lose all its power." + +"Happily, then, I am guarded by the immediate protection of the queen, +and I shall enter Versailles with a good key." + +"What key, countess?" + +"Ah, Monsieur le Cardinal, that is my secret--or rather it is not, for +if it were mine, I should feel bound to tell it to my generous +protector." + +"There is, then, an obstacle, countess?" + +"Alas! yes, monseigneur. It is not my secret, and I must keep it. Let it +suffice you to know that to-morrow I shall go to Versailles; that I +shall be received, and, I have every reason to hope, well received." + +The cardinal looked at her with wonder. "Ah, countess," said he, +laughing, "I shall see if you will get in." + +"You will push your curiosity so far as to follow me?" + +"Exactly." + +"Very well." + +"Really, countess, you are a living enigma." + +"One of those monsters who inhabit Versailles." + +"Oh, you believe me a man of taste, do you not?" + +"Certainly, monseigneur." + +"Well, here I am at your knees, and I take your hand and kiss it. Should +I do that if I thought you a monster?" + +"I beg you, sir, to remember," said Jeanne coldly, "that I am neither a +grisette nor an opera girl; that I am my own mistress, feeling myself +the equal of any man in this kingdom. Therefore I shall take freely and +spontaneously, when it shall please me, the man who will have gained my +affections. Therefore, monseigneur, respect me a little, and, in me, the +nobility to which we both belong." + +The cardinal rose. "I see," said he, "you wish me to love you +seriously." + +"I do not say that; but I wish to be able to love you. When that day +comes--if it does comes--you will easily find it out, believe me. If you +do not, I will let you know it; for I feel young enough and attractive +enough not to mind making the first advances, nor to fear a repulse." + +"Countess, if it depends upon me, you shall love me." + +"We shall see." + +"You have already a friendship for me, have you not?" + +"More than that." + +"Oh! then we are at least half way. And you are a woman that I should +adore, if----" He stopped and sighed. + +"Well," said she, "if----" + +"If you would permit it." + +"Perhaps I shall, when I shall be independent of your assistance, and +you can no longer suspect that I encourage you from interested motives." + +"Then you forbid me to pay my court now?" + +"Not at all; but there are other ways besides kneeling and kissing +hands." + +"Well, countess, let us hear; what will you permit?" + +"All that is compatible with my tastes and duties." + +"Oh, that is vague indeed." + +"Stop! I was going to add--my caprices." + +"I am lost!" + +"You draw back?" + +"No," said the cardinal, "I do not." + +"Well, then, I want a proof." + +"Speak." + +"I want to go to the ball at the Opera." + +"Well, countess, that only concerns yourself. Are you not free as air to +go where you wish?" + +"Ah, but you have not heard all. I want you to go with me." + +"I to the Opera, countess!" said he, with a start of horror. + +"See already how much your desire to please me is worth." + +"A cardinal cannot go to a ball at the Opera, countess. It is as if I +proposed to you to go into a public-house." + +"Then a cardinal does not dance, I suppose?" + +"Oh no!" + +"But I have read that M. le Cardinal de Richelieu danced a saraband." + +"Yes, before Anne of Austria." + +"Before a queen," repeated Jeanne. "Perhaps you would do as much for a +queen?" + +The cardinal could not help blushing, dissembler as he was. + +"Is it not natural," she continued, "that I should feel hurt when, after +all your protestations, you will not do as much for me as you would for +a queen?--especially when I only ask you to go concealed in a domino and +a mask; besides, a man like you, who may do anything with impunity!" + +The cardinal yielded to her flattery and her blandishments. Taking her +hand, he said, "For you I will do anything, even the impossible." + +"Thanks, monseigneur; you are really amiable. But now you have +consented, I will let you off." + +"No, no! he who does the work can alone claim the reward. Countess, I +will attend you, but in a domino." + +"We shall pass through the Rue St. Denis, close to the Opera," said the +countess. "I will go in masked, buy a domino and a mask for you, and you +can put them on in the carriage." + +"That will do delightfully." + +"Oh, monseigneur, you are very good! But, now I think of it, perhaps at +the Hôtel Rohan you might find a domino more to your taste than the one +I should buy." + +"Now, countess, that is unpardonable malice. Believe me if I go to the +Opera, I shall be as surprised to find myself there as you were to find +yourself supping tête-à-tête with a man not your husband." + +Jeanne had nothing to reply to this. Soon a carriage without arms drove +up; they both got in, and drove off at a rapid pace. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +SOME WORDS ABOUT THE OPERA. + + +The Opera, that temple of pleasure at Paris, was burned in the month of +June, 1781. Twenty persons had perished in the ruins; and as it was the +second time within eighteen years that this had happened, it created a +prejudice against the place where it then stood, in the Palais Royal, +and the king had ordered its removal to a less central spot. The place +chosen was La Porte St. Martin. + +The king, vexed to see Paris deprived for so long of its Opera, became +as sorrowful as if the arrivals of grain had ceased, or bread had risen +to more than seven sous the quartern loaf. It was melancholy to see the +nobility, the army, and the citizens without their after-dinner +amusement; and to see the promenades thronged with the unemployed +divinities, from the chorus-singers to the prima donnas. + +An architect was then introduced to the king, full of new plans, who +promised so perfect a ventilation, that even in case of fire no one +could be smothered. He would make eight doors for exit, besides five +large windows placed so low that any one could jump out of them. In the +place of the beautiful hall of Moreau he was to erect a building with +ninety-six feet of frontage towards the boulevard, ornamented with eight +caryatides on pillars forming three entrance-doors, a bas-relief above +the capitals, and a gallery with three windows. The stage was to be +thirty-six feet wide, the theater seventy-two feet deep and eighty +across, from one wall to the other. He asked only seventy-five days and +nights before he opened it to the public. + +This appeared to all a mere gasconade, and was much laughed at. The +king, however, concluded the agreement with him. Lenoir set to work, and +kept his word. But the public feared that a building so quickly erected +could not be safe, and when it opened no one would go. + +Even the few courageous ones who did go to the first representation of +"Adéle de Ponthieu" made their wills first. The architect was in +despair. He came to the king to consult him as to what was to be done. + +It was just after the birth of the dauphin; all Paris was full of joy. +The king advised him to announce a gratuitous performance in honor of +the event, and give a ball after. Doubtless plenty would come, and if +the theater stood, its safety was established. + +"Thanks, sire," said the architect. + +"But reflect, first," said the king, "if there be a crowd, are you sure +of your building?" + +"Sire, I am sure, and shall go there myself." + +"I will go to the second representation," said the king. + +The architect followed this advice. They played "Adéle de Ponthieu" to +three thousand spectators, who afterwards danced. After this there could +be no more fear. It was three years afterwards that Madame de la Motte +and the cardinal went to the ball. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +THE BALL AT THE OPERA. + + +The ball was at its height when they glided in quietly, and were soon +lost in the crowd. A couple had taken refuge from the pressure under the +queen's box; one of them wore a white domino and the other a black one. +They were talking with great animation. "I tell you, Oliva," said the +black domino, "that I am sure you are expecting some one. Your head is +no longer a head, but a weather cock, and turns round to look after +every newcomer." + +"Well, is it astonishing that I should look at the people, when that is +what I came here for?" + +"Oh, that is what you came for!" + +"Well, sir, and for what do people generally come?" + +"A thousand things." + +"Men perhaps, but women only for one--to see and be seen by as many +people as possible." + +"Mademoiselle Oliva!" + +"Oh, do not speak in that big voice, it does so frighten me; and above +all, do not call me by name; it is bad taste to let every one here know +who you are." + +The black domino made an angry gesture; it was interrupted by a blue +domino who approached them. + +"Come, monsieur," said he, "let madame amuse herself; it is not every +night one comes to a ball at the Opera." + +"Meddle with your own affairs," replied Beausire, rudely. + +"Monsieur, learn once for all that a little courtesy is never out of +place." + +"I do not know you," he replied, "and do not want to have anything to do +with you." + +"No, you do not know me; but I know you, M. Beausire." + +At hearing his name thus pronounced, Beausire visibly trembled. + +"Oh, do not be afraid, M. Beausire; I am not what you take me for." + +"Pardieu! sir, do you guess thoughts, as well as names?" + +"Why not?" + +"Then tell me what I thought. I have never seen a sorcerer, and should +find it amusing." + +"Oh, what you ask is not difficult enough to entitle me to that name." + +"Never mind--tell." + +"Well, then! you took me for an agent of M. de Crosne." + +"M. de Crosne!" he repeated. + +"Yes; the lieutenant of police." + +"Sir!" + +"Softly, M. de Beausire, you really look as if you were feeling for your +sword." + +"And so I was, sir." + +"Good heavens! what a warlike disposition; but I think, dear M. +Beausire, you left your sword at home, and you did well. But to speak of +something else, will you relinquish to me madame for a time?" + +"Give you up madame?" + +"Yes, sir; that is not uncommon, I believe, at a ball at the Opera." + +"Certainly not, when it suits the gentleman." + +"It suffices sometimes that it should please the lady." + +"Do you ask it for a long time?" + +"Really, M. Beausire, you are too curious. Perhaps for ten +minutes--perhaps for an hour--perhaps for all the evening." + +"You are laughing at me, sir." + +"Come, reply; will you or not?" + +"No, sir." + +"Come, come, do not be ill-tempered, you who were so gentle just now." + +"Just now?" + +"Yes; at the Rue Dauphine." + +Oliva laughed. + +"Hold your tongue, madame," said Beausire. + +"Yes," continued the blue domino, "where you were on the point of +killing this poor lady, but stopped at the sight of some louis." + +"Oh, I see; you and she have an understanding together." + +"How can you say such a thing?" cried Oliva. + +"And if it were so," said the stranger, "it is all for your benefit." + +"For my benefit! that would be curious." + +"I will prove to you that your presence here is as hurtful as your +absence would be profitable. You are a member of a certain academy, not +the Académie Française, but in the Rue du Pôt au Fer, in the second +story, is it not, my dear M. Beausire?" + +"Hush!" said Beausire. + +The blue domino drew out his watch, which was studded with diamonds that +made Beausire's eyes water to look at them. "Well!" continued he, "in a +quarter of an hour they are going to discuss there a little project, by +which, they hope to secure 2,000,000 francs among the twelve members, of +whom you are one, M. Beausire." + +"And you must be another; if you are not----" + +"Pray go on." + +"A member of the police." + +"Oh, M. Beausire, I thought you had more sense. If I were of the police, +I should have taken you long ago, for some little affairs less honorable +than this speculation." + +"So, sir, you wish to send me to the Rue du Pôt au Fer: but I know +why--that I may be arrested there: I am not such a fool." + +"Now, you are one. If I wanted to arrest you, I had only to do it, and I +am rid of you at once; but gentleness and persuasion are my maxims." + +"Oh, I know now," said Beausire, "you are the man that was on the sofa +two hours ago." + +"What sofa?" + +"Never mind; you have induced me to go, and if you are sending a gallant +man into harm, you will pay for it some day." + +"Be tranquil," said the blue domino, laughing; "by sending you there, I +give you 100,000 francs at least, for you know the rule of this society +is, that whoever is absent loses his share." + +"Well, then, good-by!" said Beausire, and vanished. + +The blue domino took possession of Oliva's arm, left at liberty by +Beausire. + +"Now!" said she, "I have let you manage poor Beausire at your ease, but +I warn you, you will find me not so easy to talk over; therefore, find +something pretty to say to me, or----" + +"I know nothing prettier than your own history, dear Mademoiselle +Nicole," said he, pressing the pretty round arm of the little woman, who +uttered a cry at hearing herself so addressed; but, recovering herself +with marvelous quickness, said: + +"Oh, mon Dieu! what a name! Is it I whom you call Nicole? If so, you are +wrong, for that is not my name." + +"At present I know that you call yourself Oliva, but we will talk +afterwards of Oliva; at present I want to speak of Nicole. Have you +forgotten the time when you bore that name? I do not believe it, my dear +child, for the name that one bears as a young girl is ever the one +enshrined in the heart, although one may have been forced to take +another to hide the first. Poor Oliva, happy Nicole!" + +"Why do you say 'Poor Oliva'? do you not think me happy?" + +"It would be difficult to be happy with a man like Beausire." + +Oliva sighed and said, "Indeed I am not." + +"You love him, however." + +"A little." + +"If you do not love him much, leave him." + +"No." + +"Why not?" + +"Because I should no sooner have done so than I should regret it." + +"Do you think so?" + +"I am afraid I should." + +"What could you have to regret in a drunkard; a gambler, a man who beats +you, and a black-leg, who will one day come to the gallows?" + +"You would not understand me if I told you." + +"Try." + +"I should regret the excitement he keeps me in." + +"I ought to have guessed it; that comes of passing your youth with such +silent people." + +"You know about my youth?" + +"Perfectly." + +Oliva laughed and shook her head. + +"You doubt it?" + +"Really I do." + +"Then we will talk a little about it, Mademoiselle Nicole." + +"Very well; but I warn you, I will tell nothing." + +"I do not wish it. I do not mean your childhood. I begin from the time +when you first perceived that you had a heart capable of love." + +"Love for whom?" + +"For Gilbert." + +At this name Oliva trembled. + +"Ah, mon Dieu!" she cried. "How do you know?" Then with, a sigh said, +"Oh, sir! you have pronounced a name indeed fertile in remembrances. You +knew Gilbert?" + +"Yes; since I speak to you of him." + +"Alas!" + +"A charming lad, upon my word. You loved him?" + +"He was handsome. No, perhaps not; but I thought him so; he was full of +mind, my equal in birth, but Gilbert thought no woman his equal." + +"Not even Mademoiselle de Ta----" + +"Oh, I know whom you mean, sir. You are well instructed. Yes, Gilbert +loved higher than the poor Nicole: you are possessed of terrible +secrets, sir; tell me, if you can," she continued, looking earnestly at +him, "what has become of him?" + +"You should know best." + +"Why, in heaven's name?" + +"Because if he followed you from Taverney to Paris, you followed him +from Paris to Trianon." + +"Yes, that is true, but that is ten years ago; and I wished to know what +had passed since the time I ran away, and since he disappeared. When +Gilbert loved Mademoiselle de----" + +"Do not pronounce names aloud," said he. + +"Well, then, when he loved her so much that each tree at Trianon was +witness to his love----" + +"You loved him no more." + +"On the contrary, I loved him more than ever; and this love was my ruin. +I am beautiful, proud, and, when I please, insolent; and would lay my +head on the scaffold rather than confess myself despised." + +"You have a heart, Nicole?" + +"I had then," she said, sighing. + +"This conversation makes you sad." + +"No, it does me good to speak of my youth. But tell me why Gilbert fled +from Trianon." + +"Do you wish me to confirm a suspicion, or to tell you something you do +not know." + +"Something I do not know." + +"Well, I cannot tell you this. Have you not heard that he is dead?" + +"Yes, I have, but----" + +"Well, he is dead." + +"Dead!" said Nicole, with an air of doubt. Then, with a sudden start, +"Grant me one favor!" she cried. + +"As many as you like." + +"I saw you two hours ago; for it was you, was it not?" + +"Certainly." + +"You did not, then, try to disguise yourself?" + +"Not at all." + +"But I was stupid; I saw you, but I did not observe you." + +"I do not understand." + +"Do you know what I want?" + +"No." + +"Take off your mask." + +"Here! impossible!" + +"Oh, you cannot fear other people seeing you. Here, behind this column, +you will be quite hidden. You fear that I should recognize you." + +"You!" + +"And that I should cry, 'It is you--it is Gilbert!'" + +"What folly!" + +"Take off your mask." + +"Yes, on one condition--that you will take off yours, if I ask it." + +"Agreed." The unknown took off his immediately. + +Oliva looked earnestly at him, then sighed, and said: + +"Alas! no, it is not Gilbert." + +"And who am I?" + +"Oh, I do not care, as you are not he." + +"And if it had been Gilbert?" said he, as he put on his mask again. + +"Ah! if it had been," cried she passionately, "and he had said to me, +'Nicole, do you remember Taverney Maison-Rouge?' then there would have +been no longer a Beausire in the world for me." + +"But I have told you, my dear child, that Gilbert is dead." + +"Ah! perhaps, then, it is for the best," said Oliva, with a sigh. + +"Yes; he would never have loved you, beautiful as you are." + +"Do you, then, think he despised me?" + +"No; he rather feared you." + +"That is possible." + +"Then you think it better he is dead?" + +"Do not repeat my words; in your mouth they wound me." + +"But it is better for Mademoiselle Oliva. You observe, I abandon Nicole, +and speak to Oliva. You have before you a future, happy, rich, and +brilliant." + +"Do you think so?" + +"Yes, if you make up your mind to do anything to arrive at this end." + +"I promise you." + +"But you must give up sighing, as you were doing just now." + +"Very well. I sighed for Gilbert, and as he is dead, and there are not +two Gilberts in the world, I shall sigh no more. But enough of him." + +"Yes; we will speak of yourself. Why did you run away with Beausire?" + +"Because I wished to quit Trianon, and I was obliged to go with some +one; I could no longer remain a 'pis aller,' rejected by Gilbert." + +"You have, then, been faithful for ten years through pride? You have +paid dearly for it." + +Oliva laughed. + +"Oh, I know what you are laughing at. To hear a man, who pretends to +know everything, accuse you of having been ten years faithful, when you +think you have not rendered yourself worthy of such a ridiculous +reproach. However, I know all about you. I know that you went to +Portugal with Beausire, where you remained two years; that you then left +him, and went to the Indies with the captain of a frigate, who hid you +in his cabin, and who left you at Chandernagor when he returned to +Europe. I know that you had two millions of rupees to spend in the house +of a nabob who kept you shut up; that you escaped through the window on +the shoulders of a slave. Then, rich--for you had carried away two +beautiful pearl bracelets, two diamonds, and three large rubies--you +came back to France. When landing at Brest, your evil genius made you +encounter Beausire on the quay, who recognized you immediately, bronzed +and altered as you were, while you almost fainted at the sight of him." + +"Oh, mon Dieu!" cried Oliva, "who are you, then, who know all this?" + +"I know, further, that Beausire carried you off again, persuaded you +that he loved you, sold your jewels, and reduced you to poverty. Still, +you say you love him, and, as love is the root of all happiness, of +course you ought to be happy." + +Oliva hung her head, and covered her eyes with her hands, but two large +tears might be seen forcing their way through her fingers--liquid +pearls, more precious, though not so marketable, as those Beausire had +sold. + +"And this woman," at last she said, "whom you describe as so proud and +so happy, you have bought to-day for fifty louis." + +"I am aware it is too little, mademoiselle." + +"No, sir; on the contrary, I am surprised that a woman like me should be +worth so much." + +"You are worth more than that, as I will show you; but just now I want +all your attention." + +"Then I will be silent." + +"No; talk, on the contrary, of anything, it does not matter what, so +that we seem occupied." + +"You are very odd." + +"Take hold of my arm, and let us walk." + +They walked on among the various groups. In a minute or two, Oliva asked +a question. + +"Talk as much as you like, only do not ask questions at present," said +her companion, "for I cannot answer now; only, as you speak, disguise +your voice, hold your head up, and scratch your neck with your fan." + +She obeyed. + +In a minute, they passed a highly perfumed group, in the center of which +a very elegant-looking man was talking fast to three companions, who +were listening respectfully. + +"Who is that young man in that beautiful gray domino?" asked Oliva. + +"M. le Comte d'Artois; but pray do not speak just now!" At this moment +two other dominoes passed them, and stood in a place near, which was +rather free from people. + +"Lean on this pillar, countess," said one of them in a low voice, but +which was overheard by the blue domino, who started at its sound. + +Then a yellow domino, passing through the crowd, came up to the blue +one, and said, "It is he." + +"Very good," replied the other, and the yellow domino vanished. + +"Now, then," said Oliva's companion, turning to her, "we will begin to +enjoy ourselves a little." + +"I hope so, for you have twice made me sad: first by taking away +Beausire, and then by speaking of Gilbert." + +"I will be both Gilbert and Beausire to you," said the unknown. + +"Oh!" sighed Oliva. + +"I do not ask you to love me, remember; I only ask you to accept the +life I offer you--that is, the accomplishment of all your desires, +provided occasionally you give way to mine. Just now I have one." + +"What?" + +"That black domino that you see there is a German of my acquaintance, +who refused to come to the ball with me, saying he was not well; and now +he is here, and a lady with him." + +"Who is she?" + +"I do not know. We will approach them; I will pretend that you are a +German, and you must not speak, for fear of being found out. Now, +pretend to point him out to me with the end of your fan." + +"Like that?" + +"Yes; very well. Now whisper to me." + +Oliva obeyed with a docility which charmed her companion. + +The black domino, who had his back turned to them, did not see all this; +but his companion did. "Take care, monseigneur," said she; "there are +two masks watching us." + +"Oh, do not be afraid, countess; they cannot recognize us. Do not mind +them; but let me assure you that never form was so enchanting as yours, +never eyes so brilliant, never----" + +"Hush! the spies approach." + +"Spies!" said the cardinal, uneasily. "Disguise your voice if they make +you speak, and I will do the same." + +Oliva and her blue domino indeed approached; he came up to the cardinal, +and said, "Mask----" + +"What do you want?" said the cardinal, in a voice as unlike his natural +one as he could make it. + +"The lady who accompanies me desires me to ask you some questions." + +"Ask," said M. de Rohan. + +"Are they very indiscreet?" said Madame de la Motte. + +"So indiscreet that you shall not hear them;" and he pretended to +whisper to Oliva, who made a sign in answer. Then, in irreproachable +German, he said to the cardinal, "Monseigneur, are you in love with the +lady who accompanies you?" + +The cardinal trembled. + +"Did you say monseigneur?" he asked. + +"Yes." + +"You deceive yourself; I am not the person you think." + +"Oh, M. le Cardinal, do not deny it; it is useless. If even I did not +know you, the lady who accompanies me assures me she knows you +perfectly." And he again whispered to Oliva, "Make a sign for 'yes.' Do +so each time I press your arm." + +She did so. + +"You astonish me!" said the cardinal. "Who is this lady?" + +"Oh, monseigneur, I thought you would have known; she soon knew you. It +is true that jealousy----" + +"Madame is jealous of me!" cried the cardinal. + +"We do not say that," replied the unknown, rather haughtily. + +"What are you talking about?" asked Madame de la Motte, who did not like +this conversation in German. + +"Oh, nothing, nothing!" + +"Madame," said the cardinal to Oliva, "one word from you, and I promise +to recognize you instantly." + +Oliva, who saw him speaking to her, but did not understand a word, +whispered to her companion. + +All this mystery piqued the cardinal. + +"One single German word," he said, "could not much compromise madame." + +The blue domino again pretended to take her orders, and then said: "M. +le Cardinal, these are the words of madame, 'He whose thoughts are not +ever on the alert, he whose imagination does not perpetually suggest the +presence of the loved one, does not love, however much he may pretend +it.'" + +The cardinal appeared struck with these words; all his attitude +expressed surprise, respect and devotion. + +"It is impossible!" he murmured in French. + +"What is impossible?" asked Madame de la Motte, who seized eagerly on +these few words she could understand. + +"Nothing, madame, nothing!" + +"Really, cardinal, you are making me play but a sorry part," said she, +withdrawing her arm angrily. + +He did not even seem to notice it, so great was his preoccupation with +the German lady. + +"Madame," said he to her, "these words that your companion has repeated +to me in your name are some German lines which I read in a house which +is perhaps known to you." + +The blue domino pressed Oliva's arm, who thereupon bowed an assent. + +"That house," said the cardinal, hesitatingly, "is it not called +Schoenbrunn?" + +She again made a gesture of assent. + +"They were written on a table of cherry-wood, with a gold bodkin, by an +august hand." + +"Yes," bowed Oliva again. + +The cardinal stopped, he tottered, and leaned against a pillar for +support. Madame de la Motte stood by, watching this strange scene. Then +the cardinal, touching the blue domino, said: "This is the conclusion of +the quotation--'But he who sees everywhere the loved object, who +recognizes her by a flower, by a perfume, through the thickest veils, he +can still be silent--his voice is in his heart--and if one other +understands him, he is happy.'" + +"Oh, they are speaking German here," said a young voice from an +approaching group; "let us listen. Do you speak German, marshal?" + +"No, monseigneur." + +"You, Charny?" + +"Yes, your highness." + +"Here is M. le Comte d'Artois," said Oliva softly to her companion. + +A crowd followed them, and many were passing round. + +"Take care, gentlemen!" said the blue domino. + +"Monsieur," replied the prince, "the people are pushing us." + +At this moment some invisible hand pulled Oliva's hood from behind, and +her mask fell. She replaced it as quickly as possible, with a +half-terrified cry, which was echoed by one of affected disquiet from +her companion. + +Several others around looked no little bewildered. + +The cardinal nearly fainted, and Madame de la Motte supported him. The +pressure of the crowd separated the Comte d'Artois and his party from +them. Then the blue domino approached the cardinal, and said: + +"This is indeed an irreparable misfortune; this lady's honor is at your +mercy." + +"Oh, monsieur!" murmured the cardinal, who was much agitated. + +"Let us go quickly," said the blue domino to Oliva; and they moved away. + +"Now I know," said Madame de la Motte to herself, "what the cardinal +meant was impossible: he took this woman for the queen. But what an +effect it has had on him?" + +"Would you like to leave the ball?" asked M. de Rohan, in a feeble +voice. + +"As you please, monseigneur," replied Jeanne. + +"I do not find much interest here, do you?" + +"None at all." + +They pushed their way through the crowd. The cardinal, who was tall, +looked all around him, to try and see again the vision which had +disappeared; but blue, white, and gray dominoes were everywhere, and he +could distinguish no one. They had been some time in the carriage, and +he had not yet spoken to Jeanne. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +THE EXAMINATION. + + +At last Jeanne said, "Where is this carriage taking me to, cardinal?" + +"Back to your own house, countess." + +"My house--in the faubourg?" + +"Yes, countess. A very small house to contain so many charms." + +They soon stopped. Jeanne alighted, and he was preparing to follow her, +but she stopped him, and said, "It is very late, cardinal." + +"Adieu, then," said he; and he drove away, absorbed with the scene at +the ball. + +Jeanne entered alone into her new house. Six lackeys waited for her in +the hall, and she looked at them as calmly as though she had been used +to it all her life. + +"Where are my femmes de chambre?" said she. + +One of the men advanced respectfully. + +"Two women wait for madame in her room." + +"Call them." The valet obeyed. + +"Where do you usually sleep?" said Jeanne to them, when they entered. + +"We have no place as yet," said one of them; "we can sleep wherever +madame pleases." + +"Where are the keys?" + +"Here, madame." + +"Well, for this night you shall sleep out of the house." + +The women looked at her in surprise. + +"You have some place to go to?" said Jeanne. + +"Certainly, madame; but it is late. Still, if madame wishes----" + +"And these men can accompany you," she continued, dismissing the valets +also, who seemed rather pleased. + +"When shall we return?" asked one of them. + +"To-morrow at noon." + +They seemed more astonished than ever, but Jeanne looked so imperious +that they did not speak. + +"Is there any one else here?" she asked. + +"No one, madame. It is impossible for madame to remain like this; surely +you must have some one here." + +"I want no one." + +"The house might take fire; madame might be ill." + +"Go, all of you," said Jeanne; "and take this," added she, giving them +money from her purse. + +They all thanked her, and disappeared, saying to each other that they +had found a strange mistress. + +Jeanne then locked the doors and said triumphantly, "Now I am alone +here, in my own house." She now commenced an examination, admiring each +thing individually. The ground-floor contained a bath-room, dining-room, +three drawing-rooms, and two morning-rooms. The furniture of these rooms +was handsome, though not new. It pleased Jeanne better than if it had +been furnished expressly for her. All the rich antiques disdained by +fashionable ladies, the marvelous pieces of carved ebony, the glass +lusters, the gothic clocks; chefs-d'oeuvre of carving and enamel, the +screens with embroidered Chinese figures, and the immense vases, threw +Jeanne into indescribable raptures. Here on a chimney-piece two gilded +tritons were bearing branches of coral, upon which were hung jeweled +fruits. In another place, on a gilded console table, was an enormous +elephant, with sapphires hanging from his ears, supporting a tower +filled with little bottles of scent. Books in gilt bindings were on +rosewood shelves. One room was hung with Gobelin tapestry, and furnished +in gray and gold; another, paneled in paintings by Vernet. The small +rooms contained pictures. The whole was evidently the collection of +years. + +Jeanne examined it all with delight. Then, as her domino was +inconvenient, she went into her room to put on a dressing-gown of wadded +silk; and, secure of meeting no one, she wandered from room to room, +continuing her examination, till at last, her light nearly exhausted, +she returned to her bedroom, which was hung with embroidered blue satin. + +She had seen everything, and admired everything: there only remained +herself to be admired; and she thought, as she undressed before the long +mirror, that she was not the object least worthy of admiration in the +place. At last, wearied out with pleasurable excitement, she went to +bed, and soon sank to sleep. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + +THE ACADEMY OF M. BEAUSIRE. + + +Beausire had followed the advice of the blue domino, and repaired to the +place of meeting in the Rue du Pôt au Fer. He was frightened by the +apparent exclusion which his companions had seemed to meditate, in not +communicating their plans to him; and he knew none of them to be +particularly scrupulous. He had acquired the reputation among them of a +man to be feared; it was not wonderful, as he had been a soldier, and +worn a uniform. He knew how to draw his sword, and he had a habit of +looking very fierce at the slightest word that displeased him--all +things which appear rather terrifying to those of doubtful courage, +especially when they have reason to shun the éclat of a duel and the +curiosity of the police. + +Beausire counted, therefore, on revenging himself by frightening them a +little. It was a long way, but Beausire had money in his pocket; so he +took a coach, promised the driver an extra franc to go fast, and, to +make up for the absence of his sword, he assumed as fierce a look as he +could on entering the room. + +It was a large hall, full of tables, at which were seated about twenty +players, drinking beer or syrups, and smiling now and then on some +highly rouged women who sat near them. They were playing faro at the +principal table, but the stakes were low, and the excitement small in +proportion. + +On the entrance of the domino, all the women smiled on him, half in +raillery, and half in coquetry, for M. Beausire was a favorite among +them. However, he advanced in silence to the table without noticing any +one. + +One of the players, who was a good-humored looking fellow, said to him, +"Corbleu, chevalier, you come from the ball looking out of sorts." + +"Is your domino uncomfortable?" said another. + +"No, it is not my domino," replied Beausire, gruffly. + +"Oh!" said the banker, "he has been unfaithful to us; he has been +playing somewhere else and lost." + +"It is not I who am unfaithful to my friends; I am incapable of it. I +leave that to others." + +"What do you mean, dear chevalier?" + +"I know what I mean," replied he; "I thought I had friends here." + +"Certainly," replied several voices. + +"Well, I was deceived." + +"How?" + +"You plan things without me." + +Several of the members began to protest it was not true. + +"I know better," said Beausire; "and these false friends shall be +punished." He put his hand to his side to feel for his sword, but, as it +was not there, he only shook his pocket, and the gold rattled. + +"Oh, oh!" said the banker, "M. Beausire has not lost. Come, will you not +play?" + +"Thanks," said Beausire; "I will keep what I have got." + +"Only one louis," said one of the women, caressingly. + +"I do not play for miserable louis," said he. "We play for millions here +to-night--yes, gentlemen, millions." + +He had worked himself up into a great state of excitement, and was +losing sight of all prudence, when a blow from behind made him turn, and +he saw by him a great dark figure, stiff and upright, and with two +shining black eyes. He met Beausire's furious glance with a ceremonious +bow. + +"The Portuguese!" said Beausire. + +"The Portuguese!" echoed the ladies, who abandoned Beausire to crowd +round the newcomer, he being their especial pet, as he was in the habit +of bringing them sweetmeats, sometimes wrapped up in notes of forty or +fifty francs. This man was one of the twelve associates. + +He was used as a bait at their society. It was agreed that he should +lose a hundred louis a week as an inducement to allure strangers to +play. He was, therefore, considered a useful man. He was also an +agreeable one, and was held in much consideration. + +Beausire became silent on seeing him. + +The Portuguese took his place at the table, and put down twenty louis, +which he soon lost, thereby making some of those who had been stripped +before forget their losses. + +All the money received by the banker was dropped into a well under the +table, and he was forbidden to wear long sleeves, lest he should conceal +any within them, although the other members generally took the liberty +of searching both sleeves and pockets before they left. + +Several now put on their great-coats and took leave--some happy enough +to escort the ladies. + +A few, however, after making a feint to go, returned into another room; +and here the twelve associates soon found themselves united. + +"Now we will have an explanation," said Beausire. + +"Do not speak so loud," said the Portuguese in good French. Then they +examined the doors and windows to make certain that all was secure, drew +the curtain close, and seated themselves. + +"I have a communication to make," said the Portuguese; "it was lucky, +however, I arrived when I did, for M. Beausire was seized this evening +with a most imprudent flow of eloquence." + +Beausire tried to speak. + +"Silence," said the Portuguese; "let us not waste words: you know my +ideas beforehand very well; you are a man of talent, and may have +guessed it, but I think 'amour propre' should never overcome +self-interest." + +"I do not understand." + +"M. Beausire hoped to be the first to make this proposition." + +"What proposition?" cried the rest. + +"Concerning the two million francs," said Beausire. + +"Two million francs!" cried they. + +"First," said the Portuguese, "you exaggerate; it is not as much as +that." + +"We do not know what you are talking of," said the banker. + +"But are not the less all ears," said another. + +The Portuguese drank off a large glass of Orgeat, and then began: "The +necklace is not worth more than 1,500,000 francs." + +"Oh, then it concerns a necklace?" said Beausire. + +"Yes, did you not mean the same thing?" + +"Perhaps." + +"Now he is going to be discreet after his former folly," said the +Portuguese; "but time presses, for the ambassador will arrive in eight +days." + +"This matter becomes complicated," said the banker; "a necklace! +1,500,000 francs! and an ambassador! Pray explain." + +"In a few words," said the Portuguese; "MM. Boehmer and Bossange +offered to the queen a necklace worth that sum. She refused it, and now +they do not know what to do with it, for none but a royal fortune could +buy it. Well, I have found the royal personage who will buy this +necklace, and obtain the custody of it from MM. Boehmer and Bossange; +and that is my gracious sovereign the Queen of Portugal." + +"We understand it less than ever," said the associates. + +"And I not at all," thought Beausire; then he said aloud, "Explain +yourself clearly, dear M. Manoël; our private differences should give +place to the public interests. I acknowledge you the author of the idea, +and renounce all right to its paternity. Therefore speak on." + +"Willingly," said Manoël, drinking a second glass of Orgeat; "the +embassy is vacant just now; the new ambassador, M. de Souza, will not +arrive for a week. Well, he may arrive sooner." + +They all looked stupefied but Beausire, who said, "Do you not see some +ambassador, whether true or false?" + +"Exactly," said Manoël; "and the ambassador who arrives may desire to +buy this necklace for the Queen of Portugal, and treat accordingly with +MM. Boehmer and Bossange; that is all." + +"But," said the banker, "they would not allow such a necklace to pass +into the hands of M. de Souza himself without good security." + +"Oh, I have thought of all that; the ambassador's house is vacant, with +the exception of the chancellor, who is a Frenchman, and speaks bad +Portuguese, and who is therefore delighted when the Portuguese speak +French to him, as he does not then betray himself; but who likes to +speak Portuguese to the French, as it sounds grand. Well, we will +present ourselves to this chancellor with all the appearances of a new +legation." + +"Appearances are something," said Beausire: "but the credentials are +much more." + +"We will have them," replied Manoël. + +"No one can deny that Don Manoël is an invaluable man," said Beausire. + +"Well, our appearances, and the credentials having convinced the +chancellor of our identity, we will establish ourselves at the house." + +"That is pretty bold," said Beausire. + +"It is necessary, and quite easy," said Manoël; "the chancellor will be +convinced, and if he should afterwards become less credulous, we will +dismiss him. I believe an ambassador has the right to change his +chancellor." + +"Certainly." + +"Then, when we are masters of the hotel, our first operation will be to +wait on MM. Boehmer and Bossange." + +"But you forget one thing," said Beausire; "our first act should be to +ask an audience of the king, and then we should break down. The famous +Riza Bey, who was presented to Louis XIV. as ambassador from the Shah of +Persia, spoke Persian at least, and there were no savants here capable +of knowing how well; but we should be found out at once. We should be +told directly that our Portuguese was remarkably French, and we should +be sent to the Bastile." + +"We will escape this danger by remaining quietly at home." + +"Then M. Boehmer will not believe in our ambassadorship." + +"M. Boehmer will be told that we are sent merely to buy the necklace. +We will show him our order to do this, as we shall before have shown it +to the chancellor, only we must try to avoid showing it to the +ministers, for they are suspicious, and might find a host of little +flaws." + +"Oh yes," cried they all, "let us avoid the ministers." + +"But if MM. Boehmer and Bossange require money on account?" asked +Beausire. + +"That would complicate the affair, certainly." + +"For," continued Beausire, "it is usual for an ambassador to have +letters of credit, at least, if not ready money; and here we should +fail." + +"You find plenty of reasons why it should fail," said Manoël, "but +nothing to make it succeed." + +"It is because I wish it to succeed that I speak of the difficulties. +But stop--a thought strikes me: in every ambassador's house there is a +strong box." + +"Yes; but it may be empty." + +"Well! if it be, we must ask MM. Boehmer and Bossange who are their +correspondents at Lisbon, and we will sign and stamp for them letters of +credit for the sum demanded." + +"That will do," said Manoël, "I was engrossed with the grand idea, but +had not sufficiently considered the details." + +"Now, let us think of arranging the parts," said Beausire. "Don Manoël +will be ambassador." + +"Certainly," they all said. + +"And M. Beausire my secretary and interpreter," said Manoël. + +"Why so?" said Beausire, rather uneasily. + +"I am M. de Souza, and must not speak a word of French; for I know that +that gentleman speaks nothing but Portuguese, and very little of that. +You, on the contrary, M. Beausire, who have traveled, and have acquired +French habits, who speak Portuguese also----" + +"Very badly," said Beausire. + +"Quite enough to deceive a Parisian; and then, you know, the most useful +agents will have the largest shares." + +"Assuredly," said the others. + +"Well! it is agreed; I am secretary and interpreter. Then as to the +money?" + +"It shall be divided into twelve parts; but I as ambassador and author +of the scheme shall have a share and a half; M. Beausire the same, as +interpreter, and because he partly shared my idea; and also a share and +a half to him who sells the jewels." + +"So far, then, it is settled! we will arrange the minor details +to-morrow, for it is very late," said Beausire, who was thinking of +Oliva, left at the ball with the blue domino, towards whom, in spite of +his readiness in giving away louis d'or, he did not feel very friendly. + +"No, no; we will finish at once," said the others. "What is to be +prepared?" + +"A traveling carriage, with the arms of M. de Souza," said Beausire. + +"That would take too long to paint and to dry," said Manoël. + +"Then we must say that the ambassador's carriage broke down on the way, +and he was forced to use that of the secretary: I must have a carriage, +and my arms will do for that. Besides, we will have plenty of bruises +and injuries on the carriage, and especially round the arms, and no one +will think of them." + +"But the rest of the embassy?" + +"We will arrive in the evening; it is the best time to make a début, and +you shall all follow next day, when we have prepared the way." + +"Very well." + +"But every ambassador, besides a secretary, must have a valet de +chambre. You, captain," said Don Manoël, addressing one of the gang, +"shall take this part." + +The captain bowed. + +"And the money for the purchases?" said Manoël. "I have nothing." + +"I have a little," said Beausire, "but it belongs to my mistress. What +have we in our fund?" + +"Your keys, gentlemen," said the banker. + +Each drew out a key, which opened one of twelve locks in the table; so +that none of these honest associates could open it without all the +others. They went to look. + +"One hundred and ninety-eight louis, besides the reserve fund," said the +banker. + +"Give them to M. Beausire and me. It is not too much," said Manoël. + +"Give us two-thirds, and leave the rest," said Beausire, with a +generosity which won all their hearts. + +Don Manoël and Beausire received, therefore, one hundred and thirty-two +louis and sixty-six remained for the others. + +They then separated, having fixed a rendezvous for the next day. + +Beausire rolled up his domino under his arm, and hastened to the Rue +Dauphine, where he hoped to find Oliva in possession of some new louis +d'or. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + +THE AMBASSADOR. + + +On the evening of the next day a traveling-carriage passed through the +Barrière d'Enfer, so covered with dust and scratches that no one could +discern the arms. The four horses that drew it went at a rapid pace, +until it arrived before an hotel of handsome appearance, in the Rue de +la Jussienne, at the door of which two men, one of whom was in full +dress, were waiting. The carriage entered the courtyard of the hotel, +and one of the persons waiting approached the door, and commenced +speaking in bad Portuguese. + +"Who are you?" said a voice from the inside, speaking the language +perfectly. + +"The unworthy chancellor of the embassy, your excellency." + +"Very well. Mon Dieu! how badly you speak our language, my dear +chancellor! But where are we to go?" + +"This way, monseigneur." + +"This is a poor reception," said Don Manoël, as he got out of the +carriage, leaning on the arms of his secretary and valet. + +"Your excellency must pardon me," said the chancellor, "but the courier +announcing your arrival only reached the hotel at two o'clock to-day. I +was absent on some business, and when I returned, found your +excellency's letter; I have only had time to have the rooms opened and +lighted." + +"Very good." + +"It gives me great pleasure to see the illustrious person of our +ambassador." + +"We desire to keep as quiet as possible," said Don Manoël, "until we +receive further orders, from Lisbon. But pray show me to my room, for I +am dying with fatigue; my secretary will give you all necessary +directions." + +The chancellor bowed respectfully to Beausire, who returned it, and then +said, "We will speak French, sir; I think it will be better for both of +us." + +"Yes," murmured the chancellor, "I shall be more at my ease; for I +confess that my pronunciation----" + +"So I hear," interrupted Beausire. + +"I will take the liberty to say to you, sir, as you seem so amiable, +that I trust M. de Souza will not be annoyed at my speaking such bad +Portuguese." + +"Oh, not at all, as you speak French." + +"French!" cried the chancellor; "I was born in the Rue St. Honoré." + +"Oh, that will do," said Beausire. "Your name is Ducorneau, is it not?" + +"Yes, monsieur; rather a lucky one, as it has a Spanish termination. It +is very flattering to me that monsieur knew my name." + +"Oh, you are well known; so well that we did not bring a chancellor from +Lisbon with us." + +"I am very grateful, monsieur; but I think M. de Souza is ringing." + +"Let us go and see." + +They found Manoël attired in a magnificent dressing-gown. Several boxes +and dressing-cases, of rich appearance, were already unpacked and lying +about. + +"Enter," said he to the chancellor. + +"Will his excellency be angry if I answer in French?" said Ducorneau, in +a low voice, to Beausire. + +"Oh, no; I am sure of it." + +M. Ducorneau, therefore, paid the compliments in French. + +"Oh, it is very convenient that you speak French so well, M. Ducorno," +said the ambassador. + +"He takes me for a Portuguese," thought the chancellor, with joy. + +"Now," said Manoël, "can I have supper?" + +"Certainly, your excellency. The Palais Royal is only two steps from +here, and I know an excellent restaurant, from which your excellency can +have a good supper in a very short time." + +"Order it in your own name, if you please, M. Ducorno." + +"And if your excellency will permit me, I will add to it some bottles of +capital wine." + +"Oh, our chancellor keeps a good cellar, then?" said Beausire, jokingly. + +"It is my only luxury," replied he. And now, by the wax-lights, they +could remark his rather red nose and puffed cheeks. + +"Very well, M. Ducorno; bring your wine, and sup with us." + +"Such an honor----" + +"Oh, no etiquette to-night; I am only a traveler. I shall not begin to +be ambassador till to-morrow; then we will talk of business." + +"Monseigneur will permit me to arrange my toilet." + +"Oh, you are superb already," said Beausire. + +"Yes, but this is a reception dress, and not a gala one." + +"Remain as you are, monsieur, and give the time to expediting our +supper." + +Ducorneau, delighted, left the room to fulfil his orders. Then the three +rogues, left together, began to discuss their affairs. + +"Does this chancellor sleep here?" said Manoël. + +"No; the fellow has a good cellar, and, I doubt not, a snug lodging +somewhere or other. He is an old bachelor." + +"There is a Suisse." + +"We must get rid of him; and there are a few valets, whom we must +replace to-morrow with our own friends." + +"Who is in the kitchen department?" + +"No one. The old ambassador did not live here; he had a house in the +town." + +"What about the strong-box?" + +"Oh, on that point we must consult the chancellor; it is a delicate +matter." + +"I charge myself with it," said Beausire; "we are already capital +friends." + +"Hush! here he comes." + +Ducorneau entered, quite out of breath. He had ordered the supper, and +fetched six bottles of wine from his cellar, and was looking quite +radiant at the thoughts of the coming repast. + +"Will your excellency descend to the dining-room?" + +"No, we will sup up here." + +"Here is the wine, then," said Ducorneau. + +"It sparkles like rubies," said Beausire, holding it to the light. + +"Sit down, M. Ducorneau; my valet will wait upon us. What day did the +last despatches arrive?" + +"Immediately after the departure of your excellency's predecessor." + +"Are the affairs of the embassy in good order?" + +"Oh yes, monseigneur." + +"No money difficulties? no debts?" + +"Not that I know of." + +"Because, if there are, we must begin by paying them." + +"Oh, your excellency will have nothing of that sort to do. All the +accounts were paid up three weeks ago; and the day after the departure +of the late ambassador one hundred thousand francs arrived here." + +"One hundred thousand francs?" said Beausire. + +"Yes, in gold." + +"So," said Beausire, "the box contains----" + +"100,380 francs, monsieur." + +"It is not much," said Manoël, coldly; "but, happily, her majesty has +placed funds at my disposal. I told you," continued he, turning to +Beausire, "that I thought we should need it at Paris." + +"Your excellency took wise precautions," said Beausire, respectfully. + +From the time of this important communication the hilarity of the party +went on increasing. A good supper, consisting of salmon, crabs, and +sweets, contributed to their satisfaction. Ducorneau, quite at his ease, +ate enough for ten, and did not fail, either, in demonstrating that a +Parisian could do honor to port and sherry. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + +MESSRS. BOEHMER AND BOSSANGE. + + +M. Ducorneau blessed heaven repeatedly for sending an ambassador who +preferred his speaking French to Portuguese, and liked Portuguese wines +better than French ones. At last, Manoël expressed a wish to go to bed; +Ducorneau rose and left the room, although, it must be confessed, he +found some difficulty in the operation. + +It was now the turn of the valet to have supper, which he did with great +good-will. + +The next day the hotel assumed an air of business; all the bureaux were +opened, and everything indicated life in the recently deserted place. + +The report soon spread in the neighborhood that some great personages +had arrived from Portugal during the night. This, although what was +wanted to give them credit, could not but inspire the conspirators with +some alarm; for the police had quick ears and Argus eyes. Still, they +thought that by audacity, combined with prudence, they might easily keep +them from becoming suspicious, until they had had time to complete their +business. + +Two carriages containing the other nine associates arrived, as agreed +upon, and they were soon installed in their different departments. + +Beausire induced Ducorneau himself to dismiss the porter, on the ground +that he did not speak Portuguese. They were, therefore, in a good +situation to keep off all unwelcome visitors. + +About noon, Don Manoël, gaily dressed, got into a carriage, which they +had hired for five hundred francs a month, and set out, with his +secretary, for the residence of MM. Boehmer and Bossange. + +Their servant knocked at the door, which was secured with immense locks, +and studded with great nails, like that of a prison. A servant opened +it. "His Excellency the Ambassador of Portugal desires to speak to MM. +Boehmer and Bossange." + +They got out, and M. Boehmer came to them in a few moments, and +received them with a profusion of polite speeches, but, seeing that the +ambassador did not deign even a smile in reply, looked somewhat +disconcerted. + +"His excellency does not speak or understand French, sir, and you must +communicate to him through me, if you do not speak Portuguese," said +Beausire. + +"No, monsieur, I do not." + +Manoël then spoke in Portuguese to Beausire, who, turning to M. +Boehmer, said: + +"His excellency M. le Comte de Souza, ambassador from the Queen of +Portugal, desires me to ask you if you have not in your possession a +beautiful diamond necklace?" + +Boehmer looked at him scrutinizingly. + +"A beautiful diamond necklace!" repeated he. + +"The one which you offered to the Queen of France, and which our +gracious queen has heard of." + +"Monsieur," said Boehmer, "is an officer of the ambassador's?" + +"His secretary, monsieur." + +Don Manoël was seated with the air of a great man, looking carelessly at +the pictures which hung round the room. + +"M. Boehmer," said Beausire abruptly, "do you not understand what I am +saying to you?" + +"Yes, sir," answered Boehmer, rather startled by the manner of the +secretary. + +"Because I see his excellency is becoming impatient." + +"Excuse me, sir," said Boehmer, coloring, "but I dare not show the +necklace, except in my partner's presence." + +"Well, sir, call your partner." + +Don Manoël approached Beausire, and began again talking to him in +Portuguese. + +"His excellency says," interpreted he, "that he has already waited ten +minutes, and that he is not accustomed to be kept waiting." + +Boehmer bowed, and rang the bell. A minute afterwards M. Bossange +entered. + +Boehmer explained the matter to him, who, after looking scrutinizingly +at the Portuguese, left the room with a key given him by his partner, +and soon returned with a case in one hand; the other was hidden under +his coat, but they distinctly saw the shining barrel of a pistol. + +"However well we may look," said Manoël gravely, in Portuguese, to his +companion, "these gentlemen seem to take us for pickpockets rather than +ambassadors." + +M. Bossange advanced, and put the case into the hands of Manoël. He +opened it, and then cried angrily to his secretary: + +"Monsieur, tell these gentlemen that they tire my patience! I ask for a +diamond necklace, and they bring me paste. Tell them I will complain to +the ministers, and will have them thrown into the Bastile, impertinent +people, who play tricks upon an ambassador." And he threw down the case +in such a passion that they did not need an interpretation of his +speech, but began explaining most humbly that in France it was usual to +show only the models of diamonds, so as not to tempt people to robbery, +were they so inclined. + +Manoël, with an indignant gesture, walked towards the door. + +"His excellency desires me to tell you," said Beausire, "that he is +sorry that people like MM. Boehmer and Bossange, jewelers to the +queen, should not know better how to distinguish an ambassador from a +rogue, and that he will return to his hotel." + +The jewelers began to utter most respectful protestations, but Manoël +walked on, and Beausire followed him. + +"To the ambassador's hotel, Rue de la Jussienne," said Beausire to the +footman. + +"A lost business," groaned the valet, as they set off. + +"On the contrary, a safe one; in an hour these men will follow us." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + +THE AMBASSADOR'S HOTEL. + + +On returning to their hotel, these gentlemen found Ducorneau dining +quietly in his bureau. Beausire desired him, when he had finished, to go +up and see the ambassador, and added: + +"You will see, my dear chancellor, that M. de Souza is not an ordinary +man." + +"I see that already." + +"His excellency," continued Beausire, "wishes to take a distinguished +position in Paris, and this residence will be insupportable to him. He +will require a private house." + +"That will complicate the diplomatic business," said Ducorneau; "we +shall have to go so often to obtain his signature." + +"His excellency will give you a carriage, M. Ducorneau." + +"A carriage for me!" + +"Certainly; every chancellor of a great ambassador should have a +carriage. But we will talk of that afterwards. His excellency wishes to +know where the strong-box is." + +"Up-stairs, close to his own room." + +"So far from you?" + +"For greater safety, sir. Robbers would find greater difficulty in +penetrating there, than here on the ground-floor." + +"Robbers!" said Beausire, disdainfully, "for such a little sum?" + +"One hundred thousand francs!" said Ducorneau. "It is easy to see M. de +Souza is rich, but there is not more kept in any ambassador's house in +Europe." + +"Shall we examine it now?" said Beausire. "I am rather in a hurry to +attend to my own business." + +"Immediately, monsieur." + +They went up and the money was found all right. + +Ducorneau gave his key to Beausire, who kept it for some time, +pretending to admire its ingenious construction, while he cleverly took +the impression of it in wax. Then he gave it back, saying, "Keep it, M. +Ducorneau; it is better in your hands than in mine. Let us now go to the +ambassador." + +They found Don Manoël drinking chocolate, and apparently much occupied +with a paper covered with ciphers. + +"Do you understand the ciphers used in the late correspondence?" said he +to the chancellor. + +"No, your excellency." + +"I should wish you to learn it; it will save me a great deal of trouble. +What about the box?" said he to Beausire. + +"Perfectly correct, like everything else with which M. Ducorneau has any +connection." + +"Well, sit down, M. Ducorneau; I want you to give me some information. +Do you know any honest jewelers in Paris?" + +"There are MM. Boehmer and Bossange, jewelers to the queen." + +"But they are precisely the people I do not wish to employ. I have just +quitted them, never to return." + +"Have they had the misfortune to displease your excellency?" + +"Seriously, M. Ducorneau." + +"Oh, if I dared speak." + +"You may." + +"I would ask how these people, who bear so high a name----" + +"They are perfect Jews, M. Ducorneau, and their bad behavior will make +them lose a million or two. I was sent by her gracious majesty to make +an offer to them for a diamond necklace." + +"Oh! the famous necklace which had been ordered by the late king for +Madame Dubarry?" + +"You are a valuable man, sir--you know everything. Well, now, I shall +not buy it." + +"Shall I interfere?" + +"M. Ducorneau!" + +"Oh, only as a diplomatic affair." + +"If you knew them at all." + +"Bossange is a distant relation of mine." + +At this moment a valet opened the door, and announced MM. Boehmer and +Bossange. Don Manoël rose quickly, and said in any angry tone, "Send +those people away!" + +The valet made a step forward. "No; you do it," said he to his +secretary. + +"I beg you to allow me," said Ducorneau; and he advanced to meet them. + +"There! this affair is destined to fail," said Manoël. + +"No; Ducorneau will arrange it." + +"I am convinced he will embroil it. You said at the jewelers that I did +not understand French, and Ducorneau will let out that I do." + +"I will go," said Beausire. + +"Perhaps that is equally dangerous." + +"Oh, no; only leave me to act." + +Beausire went down. Ducorneau had found the jewelers much more disposed +to politeness and confidence since entering the hotel; also, on seeing +an old friend, Bossange was delighted. + +"You here!" said he; and he approached to embrace him. + +"Ah! you are very amiable to-day, my rich cousin," said Ducorneau. + +"Oh," said Bossange, "if we have been a little separated, forgive, and +render me a service." + +"I came to do it." + +"Thanks. You are, then, attached to the embassy?" + +"Yes." + +"I want advice." + +"On what?" + +"On this embassy." + +"I am the chancellor." + +"That is well; but about the ambassador?" + +"I come to you, on his behalf, to tell you that he begs you to leave his +hotel as quickly as possible." + +The two jewelers looked at each other, disconcerted. + +"Because," continued Ducorneau, "it seems you have been uncivil to him." + +"But listen----" + +"It is useless," said Beausire, who suddenly appeared; "his excellency +told you to dismiss them--do it." + +"But, monsieur----" + +"I cannot listen," said Beausire. + +The chancellor took his relation by the shoulder, and pushed him out, +saying, "You have spoiled your fortune." + +"Mon Dieu! how susceptible these foreigners are!" + +"When one is called Souza, and has nine hundred thousand francs a year, +one has a right to be anything," said Ducorneau. + +"Ah!" sighed Bossange, "I told you, Boehmer, you were too stiff about +it." + +"Well," replied the obstinate German, "at least, if we do not get his +money, he will not get our necklace." + +Ducorneau laughed. "You do not understand either a Portuguese or an +ambassador, bourgeois that you are. I will tell you what they are: one +ambassador, M. de Potemkin, bought every year for his queen, on the +first of January, a basket of cherries which cost one hundred thousand +crowns--one thousand francs a cherry. Well, M. de Souza will buy up the +mines of Brazil till he finds a diamond as big as all yours put +together. If it cost him twenty years of his income, what does he +care?--he has no children." + +And he was going to shut the door, when Bossange said: + +"Arrange this affair, and you shall have----" + +"I am incorruptible," said he, and closed the door. + +That evening the ambassador received this letter: + + "MONSEIGNEUR,--A man who waits for your orders, and desires to + present you our respectful excuses, is at the door of your hotel, + and at a word from your excellency he will place in the hands of + one of your people the necklace of which you did us the honor to + speak. Deign to receive, monseigneur, the assurances of our most + profound respect. + + "BOEHMER AND BOSSANGE." + +"Well," said Manoël, on reading this note, "the necklace is ours." + +"Not so," said Beausire; "it will only be ours when we have bought it. +We must buy it; but remember, your excellency does not know French." + +"Yes, I know; but this chancellor?" + +"Oh, I will send him away on some diplomatic mission." + +"You are wrong; he will be our security with these men." + +"But he will say that you know French." + +"No, he will not; I will tell him not to do so." + +"Very well, then; we will have up the man." + +The man was introduced: it was Boehmer himself, who made many bows and +excuses, and offered the necklace for examination. + +"Sit down," said Beausire; "his excellency pardons you." + +"Oh, how much trouble to sell!" sighed Boehmer. + +"How much trouble to steal!" thought Beausire. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + +THE BARGAIN. + + +Then the ambassador consented to examine the necklace in detail. M. +Boehmer showed each individual beauty. + +"On the whole," said Beausire, interpreting for Manoël, "his excellency +sees nothing to complain of in the necklace, but there are ten of the +diamonds rather spotted." + +"Oh!" said Boehmer. + +"His excellency," interrupted Beausire, "understands diamonds perfectly. +The Portuguese nobility play with the diamonds of Brazil, as children do +here with glass beads." + +"Whatever it may be, however," said Boehmer, "this necklace is the +finest collection of diamonds in all Europe." + +"That is true," said Manoël. + +Then Beausire went on: "Well, M. Boehmer, her majesty the Queen of +Portugal has heard of this necklace, and has given M. de Souza a +commission to buy it, if he approved of the diamonds, which he does. +Now, what is the price?" + +"1,600,000 francs." + +Beausire repeated this to the ambassador. + +"It is 100,000 francs too much," replied Manoël. + +"Monseigneur," replied the jeweler, "one cannot fix the exact price of +the diamonds on a thing like this. It has been necessary, in making this +collection, to undertake voyages, and make searches and inquiries which +no one would believe but myself." + +"100,000 francs too dear," repeated Manoël. + +"And if his excellency says this," said Beausire, "it must be his firm +conviction, for he never bargains." + +Boehmer was shaken. Nothing reassures a suspicious merchant so much as +a customer who beats down the price. However, he said, after a minute's +thought, "I cannot consent to a deduction which will make all the +difference of loss or profit to myself and my partner." + +Don Manoël, after hearing this translated, rose, and Beausire returned +the case to the jeweler. + +"I will, however, speak to M. Bossange about it," contained Boehmer. +"I am to understand that his excellency offers 1,500,000 francs for the +necklace." + +"Yes, he never draws back from what he has said." + +"But, monsieur, you understand that I must consult with my partner." + +"Certainly, M. Boehmer." + +"Certainly," repeated Don Manoël, after hearing this translated; "but I +must have a speedy answer." + +"Well, monseigneur, if my partner will accept the price, I will." + +"Good." + +"It then only remains, excepting the consent of M. Bossange, to settle +the mode of payment." + +"There will be no difficulty about that," said Beausire. "How do you +wish to be paid?" + +"Oh," said Boehmer, laughing, "if ready money be possible----" + +"What do you call ready money?" said Beausire coldly. + +"Oh, I know no one has a million and a half of francs ready to pay +down," said Boehmer, sighing. + +"Certainly not." + +"Still, I cannot consent to dispense with some ready money." + +"That is but reasonable." Then, turning to Manoël: "How much will your +excellency pay down to M. Boehmer?" + +"100,000 francs." Beausire repeated this. + +"And when the remainder?" asked Boehmer. + +"When we shall have had time to send to Lisbon." + +"Oh!" said Boehmer, "we have a correspondent there, and by writing to +him----" + +"Yes," said Beausire, laughing ironically, "write to him, and ask if M. +de Souza is solvent, and if her majesty be good for 1,400,000 francs." + +"We cannot, sir, let this necklace leave France forever without +informing the queen; and our respect and loyalty demand that we should +once more give her the refusal of it." + +"It is just," said Manoël, with dignity. "I should wish a Portuguese +merchant to act in the same way." + +"I am very happy that monseigneur approves of my conduct. Then all is +settled, subject only to the consent of M. Bossange, and the reiterated +refusal of her majesty. I ask three days to settle these two points." + +"On one side," said Beausire, "100,000 francs down, the necklace to be +placed in my hands, who will accompany you to Lisbon, to the honor of +your correspondents, who are also our bankers. The whole of the money to +be paid in three months." + +"Yes, monseigneur," said Boehmer, bowing. + +Manoël returned it, and the jeweler took leave. + +When they were alone, Manoël said angrily to Beausire, "Please to +explain what the devil you mean by this journey to Portugal? Are you +mad? Why not have the jewels here in exchange for our money?" + +"You think yourself too really ambassador," replied Beausire; "you are +not yet quite M. de Souza to this jeweler." + +"If he had not thought so he would not have treated." + +"Agreed; but every man in possession of 1,500,000 francs holds himself +above all the ambassadors in the world; and every one who gives that +value in exchange for pieces of paper wishes first to know what the +papers are worth." + +"Then you mean to go to Portugal--you, who cannot speak Portuguese +properly? I tell you, you are mad." + +"Not at all; you shall go yourself, if you like." + +"Thank you," said Don Manoël. "There are reasons why I would rather not +return to Portugal." + +"Well, I tell you, M. Boehmer would never give up the diamonds for +mere papers." + +"Papers signed Souza?" + +"I said you thought yourself a real Souza." + +"Better say at once that we have failed," said Manoël. + +"Not at all. Come here, captain," said Beausire to the valet; "you know +what we are talking of?" + +"Yes." + +"You have listened to everything?" + +"Certainly." + +"Very well; do you think I have committed a folly?" + +"I think you perfectly right." + +"Explain why." + +"M. Boehmer would, on the other plan, have been incessantly watching +us, and all connected with us. Now, with the money and the diamonds both +in his hands, he can have no suspicion, but will set out quietly for +Portugal, which, however, he will never reach. Is it not so, M. +Beausire?" + +"Ah, you are a lad of discernment!" + +"Explain your plan," said Manoël. + +"About fifty leagues from here," said Beausire, "this clever fellow here +will come and present two pistols at the heads of our postilions, will +steal from us all we have, including the diamonds, and will leave M. +Boehmer half dead with blows." + +"Oh, I did not understand exactly that," said the valet. "I thought you +would embark for Portugal." + +"And then----" + +"M. Boehmer, like all Germans, will like the sea, and walk on the +deck. One day he may slip and fall over, and the necklace will be +supposed to have perished with him." + +"Oh, I understand," said Manoël. + +"That is lucky at last." + +"Only," replied Manoël, "for stealing diamonds one is simply sent to the +Bastile, but for murder one is hanged." + +"But for stealing diamonds one may be taken; for a little push to M. +Boehmer we should never even be suspected." + +"Well, we will settle all this afterwards," said Beausire. + +"At present let us conduct our business in style, so that they may say, +'If he was not really ambassador, at least he seemed like one.'" + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + +THE JOURNALIST'S HOUSE. + + +It was the day after the agreement with M. Boehmer, and three days +after the ball at the Opera. In the Rue Montorgueil, at the end of a +courtyard, was a high and narrow house. The ground floor was a kind of +shop, and here lived a tolerably well-known journalist. The other +stories were occupied by quiet people, who lived there for cheapness. M. +Reteau, the journalist, published his paper weekly. It was issued on the +day of which we speak; and when M. Reteau rose at eight o'clock, his +servant brought him a copy, still wet from the press. He hastened to +peruse it, with the care which a tender father bestows on the virtues or +failings of his offspring. When he had finished it: + +"Aldegonde," said he to the old woman, "this is a capital number; have +you read it?" + +"Not yet; my soup is not finished." + +"It is excellent," repeated the journalist. + +"Yes," said she; "but do you know what they say of it in the +printing-office?" + +"What?" + +"That you will certainly be sent to the Bastile." + +"Aldegonde," replied Reteau, calmly, "make me a good soup, and do not +meddle with literature." + +"Always the same," said she, "rash and imprudent." + +"I will buy you some buckles with what I make to-day. Have many copies +been sold yet?" + +"No, and I fear my buckles will be but poor. Do you remember the number +against M. de Broglie? We sold one hundred before ten o'clock; therefore +this cannot be as good." + +"Do you know the difference, Aldegonde? Now, instead of attacking an +individual, I attack a body; and instead of a soldier, I attack a +queen." + +"The queen! Oh, then there is no fear; the numbers will sell, and I +shall have my buckles." + +"Some one rings," said Reteau. + +The old woman ran to the shop, and returned a minute after, triumphant. + +"One thousand copies!" said she, "there is an order!" + +"In whose name?" asked Reteau, quickly. + +"I do not know." + +"But I want to know; run and ask." + +"Oh, there is plenty of time; they cannot count a thousand copies in a +minute." + +"Yes, but be quick; ask the servant--is it a servant?" + +"It is a porter." + +"Well, ask him where he is to take them to." + +Aldegonde went, and the man replied that he was to take them to the Rue +Neuve St. Gilles, to the house of the Count de Cagliostro. + +The journalist jumped with delight, and ran to assist in counting off +the numbers. + +They were not long gone when there was another ring. + +"Perhaps that is for another thousand copies," cried Aldegonde. "As it +is against the Austrian, every one will join in the chorus." + +"Hush, hush, Aldegonde! do not speak so loud, but go and see who it is." + +Aldegonde opened the door to a man, who asked if he could speak to the +editor of the paper. + +"What do you want to say to him?" asked Aldegonde, rather suspiciously. + +The man rattled some money in his pocket, and said: + +"I come to pay for the thousand copies sent for by M. le Comte de +Cagliostro." + +"Oh, come in!" + +A young and handsome man, who had advanced just behind him, stopped him +as he was about to shut the door, and followed him in. + +Aldegonde ran to her master. "Come," said she, "here is the money for +the thousand copies." + +He went directly, and the man, taking out a small bag, paid down one +hundred six-franc pieces. + +Reteau counted them and gave a receipt, smiling graciously on the man, +and said, "Tell the Count de Cagliostro that I shall always be at his +orders, and that I can keep a secret." + +"There is no need," replied the man; "M. de Cagliostro is independent. +He does not believe in magnetism, and wishes to make people laugh at M. +Mesmer--that is all." + +"Good!" replied another voice; "we will see if we cannot turn the laugh +against M. de Cagliostro;" and M. Reteau, turning, saw before him the +young man we mentioned. + +His glance was menacing; he had his left hand on the hilt of his sword, +and a stick in his right. + +"What can I do for you, sir?" said Reteau, trembling. + +"You are M. Reteau?" asked the young man. + +"Yes, sir." + +"Journalist, and author of this article?" said the visitor, drawing the +new number from his pocket. + +"Not exactly the author, but the publisher," said Reteau. + +"Very well, that comes to the same thing; for if you had not the +audacity to write it, you have had the baseness to give it publicity. I +say baseness, for, as I am a gentleman, I wish to keep within bounds +even with you. If I expressed all I think, I should say that he who +wrote this article is infamous, and that he who published it is a +villain!" + +"Monsieur!" said Reteau, growing pale. + +"Now listen," continued the young man; "you have received one payment in +money, now you shall have another in caning." + +"Oh!" cried Reteau, "we will see about that." + +"Yes, we will see," said the young man, advancing towards him; but +Reteau was used to these sort of affairs, and knew the conveniences of +his own house. Turning quickly round, he gained a door which shut after +him, and which opened into a passage leading to a gate, through which +there was an exit into the Rue Vieux Augustins. Once there, he was safe; +for in this gate the key was always left, and he could lock it behind +him. + +But this day was an unlucky one for the poor journalist, for, just as he +was about to turn the key, he saw coming towards him another young man, +who, in his agitation, appeared to him like a perfect Hercules. He would +have retreated, but he was now between two fires, as his first opponent +had by this time discovered him, and was advancing upon him. + +"Monsieur, let me pass, if you please," said Reteau to the young man who +guarded the gate. + +"Monsieur," cried the one who followed him, "stop the fellow, I beg!" + +"Do not be afraid, M. de Charny; he shall not pass." + +"M. de Taverney!" cried Charny; for it was really he who was the first +comer. + +Both these young men, on reading the article that morning, had conceived +the same idea, because they were animated with the same sentiments, and, +unknown to each other, had hastened to put it in practise. Each, +however, felt a kind of displeasure at seeing the other, divining a +rival in the man who had the same idea as himself. Thus it was that with +a rather disturbed manner Charny had called out, "You, M. de Taverney!" + +"Even so," replied the other, in the same way; "but it seems I am come +too late, and can only look on, unless you will be kind enough to open +the gate." + +"Oh!" cried Reteau, "do you want to murder me, gentlemen?" + +"No," said Charny, "we do not want to murder you; but first we will ask +a few questions, then we will see the end. You permit me to speak, M. de +Taverney?" + +"Certainly, sir; you have the precedence, having arrived first." + +Charny bowed; then, turning to Reteau, said: + +"You confess, then, that you have published against the queen the +playful little tale, as you call it, which appeared this morning in your +paper?" + +"Monsieur, it is not against the queen." + +"Good! it only wanted that." + +"You are very patient, sir!" cried Philippe, who was boiling with rage +outside the gate. + +"Oh, be easy, sir," replied Charny; "he shall lose nothing by waiting." + +"Yes," murmured Philippe; "but I also am waiting." + +Charny turned again to Reteau. "Etteniotna is Antoinette transposed--oh, +do not lie, sir, or instead of beating, or simply killing you, I shall +burn you alive! But tell me if you are the sole author of this?" + +"I am not an informer," said Reteau. + +"Very well; that means that you have an accomplice; and, first, the man +who bought a thousand copies of this infamy, the Count de Cagliostro; +but he shall pay for his share, when you have paid for yours." + +"Monsieur, I do not accuse him," said Reteau, who feared that he should +encounter the anger of Cagliostro after he had done with these two. + +Charny raised his cane. + +"Oh, if I had a sword!" cried Reteau. + +"M. Philippe, will you lend your sword to this man?" + +"No, M. de Charny, I cannot lend my sword to a man like that; but I will +lend you my cane, if yours does not suffice." + +"Corbleu! a cane!" cried Reteau. "Do you know that I am a gentleman?" + +"Then lend me your sword, M. de Taverney; he shall have mine, and I will +never touch it again!" cried Charny. + +Philippe unsheathed his sword, and passed it through the railings. + +"Now," said Charny, throwing down his sword at the feet of Reteau, "you +call yourself a gentleman, and you write such infamies against the Queen +of France; pick up that sword, and let us see what kind of a gentleman +you are." + +But Reteau did not stir; he seemed as afraid of the sword at his feet as +he had been of the uplifted cane. + +"Morbleu!" cried Philippe, "open the gate to me!" + +"Pardon, monsieur," said Charny, "but you acknowledged my right to be +first." + +"Then be quick, for I am in a hurry to begin." + +"I wished to try other methods before resorting to this, for I am not +much more fond of inflicting a caning than M. Reteau is of receiving +one; but as he prefers it to fighting, he shall be satisfied;" and a cry +from Reteau soon announced that Charny had begun. + +The noise soon attracted old Aldegonde, who joined her voice to her +master's. + +Charny minded one no more than the other; at last, however, he stopped, +tired with his work. + +"Now have you finished, sir?" said Philippe. + +"Yes." + +"Then pray return me my sword, and let me in." + +"Oh, no, monsieur!" implored Reteau, who hoped for a protector in the +man who had finished with him. + +"I cannot leave monsieur outside the door," said Charny. + +"Oh, it is a murder!" cried Reteau. "Kill me right off, and have done +with it!" + +"Be easy," said Charny; "I do not think monsieur will touch you." + +"You are right," said Philippe; "you have been beaten--let it suffice; +but there are the remaining numbers, which must be destroyed." + +"Oh yes!" cried Charny. "You see, two heads are better than one; I +should have forgotten that. But how did you happen to come to this gate, +M. de Taverney?" + +"I made some inquiries in the neighborhood about this fellow, and +hearing that he had this mode of escape, I thought by coming in here, +and locking the gate after me, I should cut off his retreat, and make +sure of him. The same idea of vengeance struck you, only more in a +hurry, you came straight to his house without any inquiries, and he +would have escaped you if I had not luckily been here." + +"I am rejoiced that you were, M. de Taverney. Now, fellow, lead us to +your press." + +"It is not here," said Reteau. + +"A lie!" said Charny. + +"No, no," cried Philippe, "we do not want the press; the numbers are all +printed and here, except those sold to M. de Cagliostro." + +"Then he shall burn them before our eyes!" + +And they pushed Reteau into his shop. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. + +HOW TWO FRIENDS BECAME ENEMIES. + + +Aldegonde, however, had gone to fetch the guard; but before she returned +they had had time to light a fire with the first numbers, and were +throwing them in, one after another, as quickly as possible, when the +guard appeared, followed by a crowd of ragged men, women, and boys. + +Happily, Philippe and Charny knew Reteau's secret exit, so when they +caught sight of the guard they made their escape through it, carrying +the key with them. + +Then Reteau began crying "Murder!" while Aldegonde, seeing the flames +through the window, cried "Fire!" + +The soldiers arrived, but finding the young men gone, and the house not +on fire, went away again, leaving Reteau to bathe his bruises. But the +crowd lingered about all day, hoping to see a renewal of the fun. + +When Taverney and Charny found themselves in the Rue Vieux Augustins, +"Monsieur," said Charny, "now we have finished that business, can I be +of any use to you?" + +"Thanks, sir, I was about to ask you the same question." + +"Thank you, but I have private business which will probably keep me in +Paris all day." + +"Permit me, then, to take leave of you; I am happy to have met you." + +"And I you, sir;" and the two young men bowed, but it was easy to see +that all this courtesy went no further than the lips. + +Philippe went towards the boulevards, while Charny turned to the river; +each turned two or three times till he thought himself quite out of +sight, but after walking for some time Charny entered the Rue Neuve St. +Gilles, and there once more found himself face to face with Philippe. + +Each had again the same idea of demanding satisfaction from the Count de +Cagliostro. They could not now doubt each other's intentions, so +Philippe said: + +"I left you the seller, leave me the buyer; I left you the cane, leave +me the sword." + +"Sir," replied Charny, "you left it to me simply because I came first, +and for no other reason." + +"Well," replied Taverney, "here we arrive both together, and I will make +no concession." + +"I did not ask you for any, sir; only I will defend my right." + +"And that, according to you, M. de Charny, is to make M. de Cagliostro +burn his thousand copies." + +"Remember, sir, that it was my idea to burn the others." + +"Then I will have these torn." + +"Monsieur, I am sorry to tell you that I wish to have the first turn +with M. de Cagliostro." + +"All that I can agree to, sir, is to take our chance. I will throw up a +louis, and whoever guesses right shall be first." + +"Thanks, sir, but I am not generally lucky, and should probably lose," +and he stepped towards the door. + +Charny stopped him. + +"Stay, sir, we will soon understand each other." + +"Well, sir?" answered Philippe, turning back. + +"Then, before asking satisfaction of M. de Cagliostro, suppose we take a +turn in the Bois de Boulogne: it will be out of our way, but perhaps we +can settle our dispute there. One of us will probably be left behind, +and the other be uninterrupted." + +"Really, monsieur," said Philippe, "you echo my own thoughts--where +shall we meet?" + +"Well, if my society be not insupportable to you, we need not part. I +ordered my carriage to wait for me in the Place Royale, close by here." + +"Then you will give me a seat?" said Philippe. + +"With the greatest pleasure;" and they walked together to the carriage, +and getting in, set off for the Champs Elysées. + +First, however, Charny wrote a few words on his tablets, and gave them +to the footman to take to his hotel. + +In less than half an hour they reached the Bois de Boulogne. The weather +was lovely, and the air delightful, although the power of the sun was +already felt: the fresh leaves were appearing on the trees, and the +violets filled the place with their perfume. + +"It is a fine day for our promenade, is it not, M. de Taverney?" said +Charny. + +"Beautiful, sir." + +"You may go," said Charny to his coachman. + +"Are you not wrong, sir, to send away your carriage?--one of us may need +it." + +"No, sir," replied Charny; "in this affair secrecy before everything, +and once in the knowledge of a servant, we risk it being talked of all +over Paris to-morrow." + +"As you please, but do you think the fellow does not know what he came +here for? These people know well what brings two gentlemen to the Bois +de Boulogne, and even if he did not feel sure now, he will perhaps +afterwards see one of us wounded, and will have no doubts left then. Is +it not then better to keep him here to take back either who shall need +him, than to be left, or leave me here, wounded and alone?" + +"You are right, monsieur," replied Charny; and, turning to the coachman, +he said, "No, stop, Dauphin; you shall wait here." + +Dauphin remained accordingly, and as he perfectly guessed what was +coming, he arranged his position, so as to see through the still +leafless trees all that passed. + +They walked on a little way, then Philippe said, "I think, M. de Charny, +this is a good place." + +"Excellent, monsieur," said Charny, and added: "Chevalier, if it were +any one but you, I would say one word of courtesy, and we were friends +again; but to you, coming from America, where they fight so well, I +cannot." + +"And I, sir, to you, who the other evening gained the admiration of an +entire court by a glorious feat of arms, can only say, M. le Comte, do +me the honor to draw your sword." + +"Monsieur," said Charny, "I believe we have neither of us touched on the +real cause of quarrel." + +"I do not understand you, comte." + +"Oh! you understand me perfectly, sir; and you blush while you deny it." + +"Defend yourself," cried Philippe; their swords crossed. Philippe soon +perceived that he was superior to his adversary, and therefore became as +calm as though he had been only fencing, and was satisfied with +defending himself without attacking. + +"You spare me, sir," said Charny; "may I ask why?" + +Philippe went on as before; Charny grew warm, and wished to provoke him +from this sang froid, therefore he said: + +"I told you, sir, that we had not touched on the real cause of the +quarrel." + +Philippe did not reply. + +"The true cause," continued Charny, "why you sought a quarrel, for it +was you who sought it, was, that you were jealous of me." + +Still Philippe remained silent. + +"What is your intention?" again said Charny. "Do you wish to tire my +arm? that is a calculation unworthy of you. Kill me if you can, but do +not dally thus." + +"Yes, sir," replied Philippe at last, "your reproach is just; the +quarrel did begin with me, and I was wrong." + +"That is not the question now. You have your sword in your hand; use it +for something more than mere defense." + +"Monsieur," said Philippe, "I have the honor to tell you once more I was +wrong, and that I apologize." + +But Charny was by this time too excited to appreciate the generosity of +his adversary. "Oh!" said he, "I understand; you wish to play the +magnanimous with me; that is it, is it not, chevalier? You wish to +relate to the ladies this evening how you brought me here, and then +spared my life." + +"Count," said Philippe, "I fear you are losing your senses." + +"You wish to kill M. de Cagliostro to please the queen; and, for the +same reason, you wish to turn me into ridicule." + +"Ah! this is too much," cried Philippe, "and proves to me that you have +not as generous a heart as I thought." + +"Pierce it then," cried Charny, exposing himself as Philippe made +another pass. + +The sword glanced along his ribs, and the blood flowed rapidly. + +"At last," cried Charny, "I am wounded. Now I may kill you if I can." + +"Decidedly," said Philippe, "you are mad. You will not kill me--you will +only be disabled without cause, and without profit; for no one will ever +know for what you have fought;" and as Charny made another pass, he +dexterously sent his sword flying from his hand; then, seizing it, he +broke it across his foot. "M. de Charny," said he, "you did not require +to prove to me that you were brave; you must therefore detest me very +much when you fight with such fury." + +Charny did not reply, but grew visibly pale, and then tottered. + +Philippe advanced to support him, but he repulsed him, saying, "I can +reach my carriage." + +"At least take this handkerchief to stop the blood." + +"Willingly." + +"And my arm, sir; at the least obstacle you met you would fall, and give +yourself unnecessary pain." + +"The sword has only penetrated the skin. I hope soon to be well." + +"So much the better, sir; but I warn you, that you will find it +difficult to make me your adversary again." + +Charny tried to reply, but the words died on his lips. He staggered, and +Philippe had but just time to catch him in his arms, and bear him half +fainting to his carriage. + +Dauphin, who had seen what had passed, advanced to meet him, and they +put Charny in. + +"Drive slowly," said Philippe, who then took his way back to Paris, +murmuring to himself, with a sigh, "She will pity him." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. + +THE HOUSE IN THE RUE ST. GILLES. + + +Philippe jumped into the first coach he saw, and told the man to drive +to the Rue St. Gilles, where he stopped at the house of M. de +Cagliostro. + +A large carriage, with two good horses, was standing in the courtyard; +the coachman was asleep, wrapped in a greatcoat of fox-skins, and two +footmen walked up and down before the door. + +"Does the Count Cagliostro live here?" asked Philippe. + +"He is just going out." + +"The more reason to be quick, for I wish to speak to him first. +Announce the Chevalier Philippe de Taverney;" and he followed the men +up-stairs. + +"Ask him to walk in," said, from within, a voice at once manly and +gentle. + +"Excuse me, sir," said the chevalier to a man whom we have already seen, +first at the table of M. de Richelieu, then at the exhibition of M. +Mesmer, in Oliva's room, and with her at the Opera ball. + +"For what, sir?" replied he. + +"Because I prevent you from going out." + +"You would have needed an excuse had you been much later, for I was +waiting for you." + +"For me?" + +"Yes, I was forewarned of your visit." + +"Of my visit?" + +"Yes; two hours ago. It is about that time, is it not, since you were +coming here before, when an interruption caused you to postpone the +execution of your project?" + +Philippe began to experience the same strange sensation with which this +man inspired every one. + +"Sit down, M. de Taverney," continued he; "this armchair was placed for +you." + +"A truce to pleasantry, sir," said Philippe, in a voice which he vainly +tried to render calm. + +"I do not jest, sir." + +"Then a truce to charlatanism. If you are a sorcerer, I did not come to +make trial of your skill; but if you are, so much the better, for you +must know what I am come to say to you." + +"Oh, yes, you are come to seek a quarrel." + +"You know that? perhaps you also know why?" + +"On account of the queen. Now, sir, I am ready to listen;" and these +last words were no longer pronounced in the courteous tones of a host, +but in the hard and dry ones of an adversary. + +"Sir, there exists a certain publication." + +"There are many publications," said Cagliostro. + +"Well, this publication to-day was written against the queen." + +Cagliostro did not reply. + +"You know what I refer to, count?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"You have bought one thousand copies of it?" + +"I do not deny it." + +"Luckily, they have not reached your hands." + +"What makes you think so, sir?" + +"Because I met the porter, paid him, and sent him with them to my house; +and my servant, instructed by me, will destroy them." + +"You should always finish yourself the work you commence, sir. Are you +sure these thousand copies are at your house?" + +"Certainly." + +"You deceive yourself, sir; they are here. Ah, you thought that I, +sorcerer that I am, would let myself be foiled in that way. You thought +it a brilliant idea to buy off my messenger. Well, I have a steward, and +you see it is natural for the steward of a sorcerer to be one also. He +divined that you would go to the journalist, and that you would meet my +messenger, whom he afterwards followed, and threatened to make him give +back the gold you had given him, if he did not follow his original +instructions, instead of taking them to you. But I see you doubt." + +"I do." + +"Look, then, and you will believe;" and, opening an oak cabinet, he +showed the astonished chevalier the thousand copies lying there. + +Philippe approached the count in a menacing attitude, but he did not +stir. "Sir," said Philippe, "you appear a man of courage; I call upon +you to give me immediate satisfaction." + +"Satisfaction for what?" + +"For the insult to the queen, of which you render yourself an accomplice +while you keep one number of this vile paper." + +"Monsieur," said Cagliostro, "you are in error; I like novelties, +scandalous reports, and other amusing things, and collect them, that I +may remember at a later day what I should otherwise forget." + +"A man of honor, sir, does not collect infamies." + +"But, if I do not think this an infamy?" + +"You will allow at least that it is a lie." + +"You deceive yourself, sir. The queen was at M. Mesmer's." + +"It is false, sir." + +"You mean to tell me I lie?" + +"I do." + +"Well, I will reply in a few words--I saw her there." + +"You saw her!" + +"As plainly as I now see you." + +Philippe looked full at Cagliostro. "I still say, sir, that you lie." + +Cagliostro shrugged his shoulders, as though he were talking to a +madman. + +"Do you not hear me, sir?" said Philippe. + +"Every word." + +"And do you not know what giving the lie deserves?" + +"Yes, sir; there is a French proverb which says it merits a box on the +ears." + +"Well, sir, I am astonished that your hand has not been already raised +to give it, as you are a French gentleman, and know the proverb." + +"Although a French gentleman, I am a man, and love my brother." + +"Then you refuse me satisfaction?" + +"I only pay what I owe." + +"Then you will compel me to take satisfaction in another manner." + +"How?" + +"I exact that you burn the numbers before my eyes, or I will proceed +with you as with the journalist." + +"Oh! a beating," said Cagliostro, laughing. + +"Neither more nor less, sir. Doubtless you can call your servants." + +"Oh, I shall not call my servants; it is my own business. I am stronger +than you, and if you approach me with your cane, I shall take you in my +arms and throw you across the room, and shall repeat this as often as +you repeat your attempt." + +"Well, M. Hercules, I accept the challenge," said Philippe, throwing +himself furiously upon Cagliostro, who, seizing him round the neck and +waist with a grasp of iron, threw him on a pile of cushions, which lay +some way off, and then remained standing as coolly as ever. + +Philippe rose as pale as death. "Sir," said he, in a hoarse voice, "you +are in fact stronger than I am, but your logic is not as strong as your +arm; and you forgot, when you treated me thus, that you gave me the +right to say, 'Defend yourself, count, or I will kill you.'" + +Cagliostro did not move. + +"Draw your sword, I tell you, sir, or you are a dead man." + +"You are not yet sufficiently near for me to treat you as before, and I +will not expose myself to be killed by you, like poor Gilbert." + +"Gilbert!" cried Philippe, reeling back. "Did you say Gilbert?" + +"Happily you have no gun this time, only a sword." + +"Monsieur," cried Philippe, "you have pronounced a name----" + +"Which has awakened a terrible echo in your remembrance, has it not? A +name that you never thought to hear again, for you were alone with the +poor boy, in the grotto of Açores, when you assassinated him." + +"Oh!" said Philippe, "will you not draw?" + +"If you knew," said Cagliostro, "how easily I could make your sword fly +from your hand!" + +"With your sword?" + +"Yes, with my sword, if I wished." + +"Then try." + +"No, I have a still surer method." + +"For the last time, defend yourself," said Philippe, advancing towards +him. + +Then the count took from his pocket a little bottle, which he uncorked, +and threw the contents in Philippe's face. Scarcely had it touched him, +when he reeled, let his sword drop, and fell senseless. + +Cagliostro picked him up, put him on a sofa, waited for his senses to +return, and then said, "At your age, chevalier, we should have done with +follies; cease, therefore, to act like a foolish boy, and listen to me." + +Philippe made an effort to shake off the torpor which still held +possession of him, and murmured, "Oh, sir, do you call these the weapons +of a gentleman?" + +Cagliostro shrugged his shoulders. "You repeat forever the same word," +he said; "when we of the nobility have opened our mouths wide enough to +utter the word gentleman, we think we have said everything. What do you +call the weapons of a gentleman? Is it your sword, which served you so +badly against me, or is it your gun, which served you so well against +Gilbert? What makes some men superior to others? Do you think that it is +that high-sounding word gentleman? No; it is first reason, then +strength, most of all, science. Well, I have used all these against you. +With my reason I braved your insults, with my strength I conquered +yours, and with my science I extinguished at once your moral and +physical powers. Now I wish to show you that you have committed two +faults in coming here with menaces in your mouth. Will you listen to +me?" + +"You have overpowered me," replied Philippe; "I can scarcely move. You +have made yourself master of my muscles and of my mind, and then you ask +me if I will listen!" + +Then Cagliostro took down from the chimney-piece another little gold +phial. "Smell this, chevalier," said he. + +Philippe obeyed, and it seemed to him that the cloud which hung over him +dispersed. "Oh, I revive!" he cried. + +"And you feel free and strong?" + +"Yes." + +"With your full powers and memory of the past?" + +"Yes." + +"Then this memory gives me an advantage over you." + +"No," said Philippe, "for I acted in defense of a vital and sacred +principle." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I defended the monarchy." + +"You defended the monarchy!--you, who went to America to defend a +republic. Ah, mon Dieu! be frank; it is not the monarchy you defend." + +Philippe colored. + +"To love those who disdain you," continued Cagliostro, "who deceive and +forget you, is the attribute of great souls. It is the law of the +Scriptures to return good for evil. You are a Christian, M. de +Taverney." + +"Monsieur," cried Philippe, "not a word more; if I did not defend the +monarchy, I defended the queen, that is to say, an innocent woman, and +to be respected even if she were not so, for it is a divine law not to +attack the weak." + +"The weak! the queen--you call a feeble being her to whom twenty-eight +million human beings bow the knee!" + +"Monsieur, they calumniate her." + +"How do you know?" + +"I believe it." + +"Well, I believe the contrary; we have each the right to think as we +please." + +"But you act like an evil genius." + +"Who tells you so?" cried Cagliostro, with sparkling eyes. "How, have +you the temerity to assume that you are right, and that I am wrong? You +defend royalty; well, I defend the people. You say, render to Cæsar the +things which are Cæsar's; and I say, render to God the things that are +God's. Republican of America, I recall you to the love of the people, to +the love of equality. You trample on the people to kiss the hands of a +queen; I would throw down a queen to elevate a people. I do not disturb +you in your adoration; leave me in peace at my work. You say to me, die, +for you have offended the object of my worship; and I say to you, who +combat mine, live, for I feel myself so strong in my principles, that +neither you nor any one else can retard my progress for an instant." + +"Sir, you frighten me," said Philippe; "you show me the danger in which +our monarchy is." + +"Then be prudent, and shun the opening gulf." + +"You know," replied Philippe, "that I would sooner entomb myself in it, +than see those whom I defend in danger." + +"Well, I have warned you." + +"And I," said Philippe, "I, who am but a feeble individual, will use +against you the arms of the weak. I implore you, with tearful eyes and +joined hands, to be merciful towards those whom you pursue. I ask you to +spare me the remorse of knowing you were acting against this poor queen, +and not preventing you. I beg you to destroy this publication, which +would make a woman shed tears. I ask you, by the love which you have +guessed, or I swear that with this sword, which has proved so powerless +against you, I will pierce myself before your eyes!" + +"Ah!" murmured Cagliostro, "why are they not all like you? Then I would +join them, and they should not perish." + +"Monsieur, monsieur, I pray you to reply to me!" + +"See, then," said Cagliostro, "if all the thousand numbers be there, and +burn them yourself." + +Philippe ran to the cabinet, took them out, and threw them on the fire. +"Adieu, monsieur!" then he said; "a hundred thanks for the favor you +have granted me." + +"I owed the brother," said Cagliostro, when he had gone, "some +compensation for all I made the sister endure." + +Then he called for his carriage. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. + +THE HEAD OF THE TAVERNEY FAMILY. + + +While this was passing in the Rue St. Gilles, the elder M. Taverney was +walking in his garden, followed by two footmen, who carried a chair, +with which they approached him every five minutes, that he might rest. +While doing so, a servant came to announce the chevalier. + +"My son," said the old man, "come, Philippe, you arrive àpropos--my +heart is full of happy thoughts; but how solemn you look!" + +"Do I, sir?" + +"You know already the results of that affair?" + +"What affair?" + +The old man looked to see that no one was listening, then said, "I speak +of the ball." + +"I do not understand." + +"Oh, the ball at the Opera." + +Philippe colored. + +"Sit down," continued his father; "I want to talk to you. It seems that +you, so timid and delicate at first, now compromise her too much." + +"Whom do you mean, sir?" + +"Pardieu! do you think I am ignorant of your escapade, both together at +the Opera ball? It was pretty." + +"Sir, I protest----" + +"Oh, do not be angry; I only mean to warn you for your good. You are not +careful enough; you were seen there with her." + +"I was seen?" + +"Pardieu! had you, or not, a blue domino?" + +Philippe was about to explain that he had not, and did not know what his +father meant, but he thought to himself, "It is of no use to explain to +him; he never believes me. Besides, I wish to learn more." + +"You see," continued the old man, triumphantly, "you were recognized. +Indeed, M. de Richelieu, who was at the ball in spite of his eighty-four +years, wondered who the blue domino could be with whom the queen was +walking, and he could only suspect you, for he knew all the others." + +"And pray how does he say he recognized the queen?" + +"Not very difficult, when she took her mask off. Such audacity as that +surpasses all imagination; she must really be mad about you. But take +care, chevalier; you have jealous rivals to fear; it is an envied post +to be favorite of the queen, when the queen is the real king. Pardon my +moralizing, but I do not wish that the breath of chance should blow down +what you have reared so skilfully." + +Philippe rose; the conversation was hateful to him, but a kind of savage +curiosity impelled him to hear everything. + +"We are already envied," continued the old man; "that is natural, but we +have not yet attained the height to which we shall rise. To you will +belong the glory of raising our name; and now you are progressing so +well, only be prudent, or you will fail after all. Soon, however, you +must ask for some high post, and obtain for me a lord-lieutenancy not +too far from Paris. Then you can have a peerage, and become a duke and +lieutenant-general. In two years, if I am still alive----" + +"Enough, enough!" groaned Philippe. + +"Oh, if you are satisfied with that, I am not. You have a whole life +before you; I, perhaps, only a few months. However, I do not complain; +God gave me two children, and if my daughter has been useless in +repairing our fortunes, you will make up for it. I see in you the great +Taverney, and you inspire me with respect, for your conduct has been +admirable; you show no jealousy, but leave the field apparently open to +every one, while you really hold it alone." + +"I do not understand you," replied Philippe. + +"Oh, no modesty; it was exactly the conduct of M. Potemkin, who +astonished the world with his fortunes. He saw that Catherine loved +variety in her amours; that, if left free, she would fly from flower to +flower, returning always to the sweetest and most beautiful; but that, +if pursued, she would fly right away. He took his part, therefore; he +even introduced new favorites to his sovereign, to weary her out with +their number; but through and after the quickly succeeding reigns of the +twelve Cæsars, as they were ironically called, Potemkin in reality was +supreme." + +"What incomprehensible infamies!" murmured poor Philippe. But the old +man went on: + +"According to his system, however, you have been still a little wrong. +He never abandoned his surveillance, and you are too lax in this." + +Philippe replied only by shrugging his shoulders. He really began to +think his father was crazy. + +"Ah! you thought I did not see your game. You are already providing a +successor, for you have divined that there is no stability in the +queen's amours, and in the event of her changing, you wish not to be +quite thrown aside; therefore you make friends with M. de Charny, who +might otherwise, when his turn comes, exile you, as you now might MM. de +Coigny, Vaudreuil, and others." + +Philippe, with an angry flush, said: + +"Once more, enough; I am ashamed to have listened so long. Those who say +that the Queen of France is a Messalina are criminal calumniators." + +"I tell you," said the old man, "no one can hear, and I approve your +plan. M. de Charny will repay your kindness some day." + +"Your logic is admirable, sir; and M. de Charny is so much my favorite +that I have just passed my sword through his ribs." + +"What!" cried the old man, somewhat frightened at his son's flashing +eyes, "you have not been fighting?" + +"Yes, sir; that is my method of conciliating my successors. And he +turned to go away. + +"Philippe, you jest." + +"I do not, sir." + +The old man rose, and tottered off to the house. + +"Quick," said he to the servant; "let a man on horseback go at once and +ask after M. de Charny, who has been wounded, and let him be sure to say +he comes from me." Then he murmured to himself, "Mine is still the only +head in the family." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. + +THE STANZAS OF M. DE PROVENCE. + + +While these events were passing in Paris and in Versailles, the king, +tranquil as usual, sat in his study, surrounded by maps and plans, and +traced new paths for the vessels of La Pérouse. + +A slight knock at his door roused him from his study, and a voice said, +"May I come in, brother?" + +"The Comte de Provence," growled the king, discontentedly. "Enter." + +A short person came in. + +"You did not expect me, brother?" he said. + +"No, indeed." + +"Do I disturb you?" + +"Have you anything particular to say?" + +"Such a strange report----" + +"Oh, some scandal?" + +"Yes, brother." + +"Which has amused you?" + +"Because it is so strange." + +"Something against me?" + +"Should I laugh if it were?" + +"Then against the queen?" + +"Sire, imagine that I was told quite seriously that the queen slept out +the other night." + +"That would be very sad if it were true," replied the king. + +"But it is not true, is it?" + +"No." + +"Nor that the queen was seen waiting outside the gate at the +reservoirs?" + +"No." + +"The day, you know, that you ordered the gates to be shut at eleven +o'clock?" + +"I do not remember." + +"Well, brother, they pretend that the queen was seen arm-in-arm with M. +d'Artois at half-past twelve that night." + +"Where?" + +"Going to a house which he possesses behind the stables. Has not your +majesty heard this report?" + +"Yes, you took care of that." + +"How, sire?--what have I done?" + +"Some verses which were printed in the _Mercury_." + +"Some verses!" said the count, growing red. + +"Oh, yes; you are a favorite of the Muses." + +"Not I, sire." + +"Oh, do not deny it; I have the manuscript in your writing! Now, if you +had informed yourself of what the queen really did that day, instead of +writing these lines against her, and consequently against me, you would +have written an ode in her favor. Perhaps the subject does not inspire +you; but I should have liked a bad ode better than a good satire." + +"Sire, you overwhelm me; but I trust you will believe I was deceived, +and did not mean harm." + +"Perhaps." + +"Besides, I did not say I believed it; and then, a few verses are +nothing. Now, a pamphlet like one I have just seen----" + +"A pamphlet?" + +"Yes, sire; and I want an order for the Bastile for the author of it." + +The king rose. "Let me see it," he said. + +"I do not know if I ought." + +"Certainly you ought. Have you got it with you?" + +"Yes, sire;" and he drew from his pocket "The History of the Queen +Etteniotna," one of the fatal numbers which had escaped from Philippe +and Charny. + +The king glanced over it rapidly. "Infamous!" he cried. + +"You see, sire, they pretend the queen went to M. Mesmer's." + +"Well, she did go." + +"She went?" + +"Authorized by me." + +"Oh, sire!" + +"That is nothing against her; I gave my consent." + +"Did your majesty intend that she should experimentalize on herself?" + +The king stamped with rage as the count said this; he was reading one of +the most insulting passages--the history of her contortions, voluptuous +disorder, and the attention she had excited. + +"Impossible!" he cried, growing pale; and he rang the bell. "Oh, the +police shall deal with this! Fetch M. de Crosne." + +"Sire, it is his day for coming here, and he is now waiting." + +"Let him come in." + +"Shall I go, brother?" said the count. + +"No; remain. If the queen be guilty, you are one of the family, and must +know it; if innocent, you, who have suspected her, must hear it." + +M. de Crosne entered, and bowed, saying, "The report is ready, sire." + +"First, sir," said the king, "explain how you allow such infamous +publications against the queen." + +"Etteniotna?" asked M. de Crosne. + +"Yes." + +"Well, sire, it is a man called Reteau." + +"You know his name, and have not arrested him!" + +"Sire, nothing is more easy. I have an order already prepared in my +portfolio." + +"Then why is it not done?" + +M. de Crosne looked at the count. + +"I see, M. de Crosne wishes me to leave," said he. + +"No," replied the king, "remain. And you, M. de Crosne, speak freely." + +"Well, sire, I wished first to consult your majesty whether you would +not rather give him some money, and send him away to be hanged +elsewhere." + +"Why?" + +"Because, sire, if these men tell lies, the people are glad enough to +see them whipped, or even hanged; but if they chance upon a truth----" + +"A truth! It is true that the queen went to M. Mesmer's, but I gave her +permission." + +"Oh, sire!" cried M. de Crosne. + +His tone of sincerity struck the king more than anything M. de Provence +had said; and he answered, "I suppose, sir, that was no harm." + +"No, sire; but her majesty has compromised herself." + +"M. de Crosne, what have your police told you?" + +"Sire, many things, which, with all possible respect for her majesty, +agree in many points with this pamphlet." + +"Let me hear." + +"That the queen went in a common dress, in the middle of this crowd, and +alone." + +"Alone!" cried the king. + +"Yes, sire." + +"You are deceived, M. de Crosne." + +"I do not think so, sire." + +"You have bad reporters, sir." + +"So exact, that I can give your majesty a description of her dress, of +all her movements, of her cries----" + +"Her cries!" + +"Even her sighs were observed, sire." + +"It is impossible she could have so far forgotten what is due to me and +to herself." + +"Oh, yes," said the Comte de Provence; "her majesty is surely +incapable----" + +Louis XVI. interrupted him. "Sir," said he, to M. de Crosne, "you +maintain what you have said?" + +"Unhappily, yes, sire." + +"I will examine into it further," said the king, passing his +handkerchief over his forehead, on which the drops hung from anxiety and +vexation. "I did permit the queen to go, but I ordered her to take with +her a person safe, irreproachable, and even holy." + +"Ah," said M. de Crosne, "if she had but done so----" + +"Yes," said the count; "if a lady like Madame de Lamballe for +instance----" + +"It was precisely she whom the queen promised to take." + +"Unhappily, sire, she did not do so." + +"Well," said the king, with agitation; "if she has disobeyed me so +openly I ought to punish, and I will punish; only some doubts still +remain on my mind; these doubts you do not share; that is natural; you +are not the king, husband, and friend of her whom they accuse. However, +I will proceed to clear the affair up." He rang. "Let some one see," +said he to the person who came, "where Madame de Lamballe is." + +"Sire, she is walking in the garden with her majesty and another lady." + +"Beg her to come to me. Now, gentlemen, in ten minutes we shall know the +truth." + +All were silent. + +M. de Crosne was really sad, and the count put on an affectation of it +which might have solemnized Momus himself. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. + +THE PRINCESS DE LAMBALLE. + + +The Princesse de Lamballe entered beautiful and calm. Her hair drawn +back from her noble forehead, her dark penciled eyebrows, her clear blue +eyes and beautiful lips, and her unrivaled figure, formed a lovely tout +ensemble. She seemed always surrounded by an atmosphere of virtue and +grace. + +The king looked at her with a troubled expression, dreading what he was +about to hear; then bowing, said, "Sit down, princess." + +"What does your majesty desire?" asked she, in a sweet voice. + +"Some information, princess: what day did you last go with the queen to +Paris?" + +"Wednesday, sire." + +"Pardon me, cousin," said Louis XVI.; "but I wish to know the exact +truth." + +"You will never hear anything else from me, sire." + +"What did you go there for?" + +"I went to M. Mesmer's, Place Vendôme." + +The two witnesses trembled. The king colored with delight. + +"Alone?" asked the king. + +"No, sire; with the queen." + +"With the queen?" cried Louis, seizing her hand. + +"Yes, sire." + +M. de Provence and M. de Crosne looked stupefied. + +"Your majesty had authorized the queen to go; at least, so she told me," +continued the princess. + +"It was true, cousin: gentlemen, I breathe again; Madame de Lamballe +never tells a falsehood." + +"Never, sire." + +"Oh, never, sire," said M. de Crosne, with perfect sincerity. "But will +you permit me, sire?" + +"Certainly, monsieur; question, search as much as you please; I place +the princess at your disposal." + +Madame de Lamballe smiled. "I am ready," she said. + +"Madame," said the lieutenant of police, "have the goodness to tell his +majesty what you did there, and how the queen was dressed." + +"She had on a dress of gray taffeta, a mantle of embroidered muslin, an +ermine muff, and a rose-colored velvet bonnet, trimmed with black." + +M. de Crosne looked astonished. It was a totally different dress from +that which he had had described to him. The Comte de Provence bit his +lips with vexation, and the king rubbed his hands. + +"What did you do on entering?" asked he. + +"Sire, you are right to say on entering, for we had hardly entered the +room----" + +"Together?" + +"Yes, sire; and we could scarcely have been seen, for every one was +occupied with the experiments going on, when a lady approached the +queen, and, offering her a mask, implored her to turn back." + +"And you stopped?" + +"Yes, sire." + +"You never went through the rooms?" asked M. de Crosne. + +"No, monsieur." + +"And you never quitted the queen?" asked the king. + +"Not for a moment, sire. Her majesty never left my arm." + +"Now!" cried the king, "what do you say, M. de Crosne? and you, +brother?" + +"It is extraordinary, quite supernatural," said the count, who affected +a gaiety which could not conceal his disappointment. + +"There is nothing supernatural," said M. de Crosne, who felt real +remorse: "what Madame de Lamballe says is undoubtedly true; therefore my +informants must have been mistaken." + +"Do you speak seriously, sir?" asked the count. + +"Perfectly, monseigneur. Her majesty did what Madame de Lamballe states, +and nothing more, I feel convinced; my agents were, somehow or other, +deceived. As for this journalist, I will immediately send the order for +his imprisonment." + +Madame de Lamballe looked from one to the other with an expression of +innocent curiosity. + +"One moment," said the king; "you spoke of a lady who came to stop you; +tell us who she was?" + +"Her majesty seemed to know her, sire." + +"Because, cousin, I must speak to this person; then we shall learn the +key to this mystery." + +"That is my opinion also, sire," said M. de Crosne. + +"Did the queen tell you that she knew this person?" said the count. + +"She told me so, monseigneur." + +"My brother means to say that you probably know her name." + +"Madame de la Motte Valois." + +"That intriguer!" cried the king. + +"Diable!" said the count; "she will be difficult to interrogate: she is +cunning." + +"We will be as cunning as she," said M. de Crosne. + +"I do not like such people about the queen," said Louis; "she is so good +that all the beggars crowd round her." + +"Madame de la Motte is a true Valois," said the princess. + +"However that may be, I will not see her here. I prefer depriving myself +of the pleasure of hearing the queen's innocence confirmed, to doing +that." + +"But you must see her, sire," said the queen, entering at that moment, +pale with anger, beautiful with a noble indignation. "It is not now for +you to say, 'I do, or I do not wish to see her.' She is a witness from +whom the intelligence of my accusers," said she, looking at her +brother-in-law, "and the justice of my judges," turning to the king and +M. de Crosne, "must draw the truth. I, the accused, demand that she be +heard." + +"Madame," said the king, "we will not do Madame de la Motte the honor of +sending for her to give evidence either for or against you. I cannot +stake your honor against the veracity of this woman." + +"You need not send for her, she is here." + +"Here!" cried the king. + +"Sire, you know I went to see her one day; that day of which so many +things were said," and she looked again at the Comte de Provence, who +felt ready to sink through the ground; "and I then dropped at her house +a box, containing a portrait, which she was to return to me to-day, and +she is here." + +"No, no," said the king; "I am satisfied, and do not wish to see her." + +"But I am not satisfied, and shall bring her in. Besides, why this +repugnance? What has she done? If there be anything, tell me; you, M. de +Crosne? you know everything." + +"I know nothing against this lady," replied he. + +"Really?" + +"Certainly not; she is poor, and perhaps ambitious, but that is all." + +"If there be no more than that against her, the king can surely admit +her." + +"I do not know why," said Louis; "but I have a presentiment that this +woman will be the cause of misfortune to me." + +"Oh! sire, that is superstition; pray fetch her, Madame de Lamballe." + +Five minutes after, Jeanne, with a timid air, although with a +distinguished appearance, entered the room. + +Louis XVI., strong in his antipathies, had turned his back towards her, +and was leaning his head on his hands, seeming to take no longer a part +in the conversation. The Comte de Provence cast on her a look which, had +her modesty been real, would have increased her confusion; but it +required much more than that to trouble Jeanne. + +"Madame," said the queen, "have the goodness to tell the king exactly +what passed the other day at M. Mesmer's." + +Jeanne did not speak. + +"It requires no consideration," continued the queen; "we want nothing +but the simple truth." + +Jeanne understood immediately that the queen had need of her, and knew +that she could clear her in a moment by speaking the simple truth; but +she felt inclined to keep her secret. + +"Sire," said she, "I went to see M. Mesmer from curiosity, like the rest +of the world. The spectacle appeared to me rather a coarse one; I turned +and suddenly saw her majesty entering, whom I had already had the honor +of seeing, but without knowing her till her generosity revealed her +rank. It seemed to me that her majesty was out of place in this room, +where much suffering and many ridiculous exhibitions were going on. I +beg pardon for having taken it on myself to judge; it was a woman's +instinct, but I humbly beg pardon if I passed the bounds of proper +respect." She seemed overcome with emotion as she concluded. + +Every one but the king was pleased. + +Madame de Lamballe thought her conduct delicate, and herself timid, +intelligent, and good. + +The queen thanked her by a look. + +"Well," she said, "you have heard, sire." + +He did not move, but said, "I did not need her testimony." + +"I was told to speak," said Jeanne timidly, "and I obeyed." + +"It is enough," answered he; "when the queen says a thing she needs no +witnesses to confirm her; and when she has my approbation, and she has +it, she need care for that of no one else." + +He cast an overwhelming look on his brother, and kissing the hands of +the queen and the princess, and begging pardon of the latter for having +disturbed her for nothing, made a very slight bow to Jeanne. + +The ladies then left the room. + +"Brother," said Louis to the count, "now I will detain you no longer; I +have work to do with M. de Crosne. You have heard your sister's complete +justification, and it is easy to see you are as pleased as myself. Pray +sit down, M. de Crosne." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. + +THE QUEEN. + + +The queen, after leaving the king, felt deeply the danger she had been +so nearly incurring. She was therefore pleased with Jeanne, who had been +the means of preventing it, and said to her, with a gracious smile: + +"It is really fortunate, madame, that you prevented my prolonging my +stay at M. Mesmer's, for only think, they have taken advantage of my +being there to say that I was under the influence of the magnetism." + +"But," said Madame de Lamballe, "it is very strange that the police +should have been so deceived, and have affirmed that they saw the queen +in the inner room." + +"It is strange," said the queen; "and M. de Crosne is an honest man, and +would not willingly injure me; but his agents may have been bought. I +have enemies, dear Lamballe. Still there must have been some foundation +for this tale. This infamous libel represents me as intoxicated, and +overcome to such a degree by the magnetic fluid, that I lost all control +over myself, and all womanly reserve. Did any such scene take place, +Madame la Comtesse? Was there any one who behaved like this?" + +Jeanne colored; the secret once told, she lost all the fatal influence +which she could now exercise over the queen's destiny; therefore she +again resolved to keep silent on this point. + +"Madame," said she, "there was a woman much agitated who attracted great +attention by her contortions and cries." + +"Probably some actress or loose character." + +"Possibly, madame." + +"Countess, you replied very well to the king, and I will not forget you. +How have you advanced in your own affairs?" + +At this moment Madame de Misery came in, to say that Mademoiselle de +Taverney wished to know if her majesty would receive her. + +"Assuredly," said the queen. "How ceremonious you always are, Andrée; +why do you stand so much upon etiquette?" + +"Your majesty is too good to me." + +Madame de Lamballe now availed herself of Andrée's entrance to take +leave. + +"Well, Andrée," the queen then said, "here is this lady whom we went to +see the other day." + +"I recognize madame," said Andrée, bowing. + +"Do you know what they have been saying of me?" + +"Yes, madame; M. de Provence has been repeating the story." + +"Oh! no doubt; therefore we will leave that subject. Countess, we were +speaking of you--who protects you now?" + +"You, madame," replied Jeanne, boldly, "since you permit me to come and +kiss your hand. Few people," she continued, "dared to protect me when I +was in obscurity; now that I have been seen with your majesty, every one +will be anxious to do so." + +"Then," said the queen, "no one has been either brave enough or corrupt +enough to protect you for yourself?" + +"I had first Madame de Boulainvilliers, a brave protector; then her +husband, a corrupt one; but since my marriage no one. Oh yes, I forget +one brave man--a generous prince." + +"Prince, countess! who is it?" + +"Monsieur the Cardinal de Rohan." + +"My enemy," said the queen, smiling. + +"Your enemy! Oh, madame!" + +"It seems you are astonished that a queen should have an enemy. It is +evident you have not lived at court." + +"But, madame, he adores you. The devotion of the cardinal equals his +respect for you." + +"Oh, doubtless," said the queen, with a hearty laugh; "that is why he is +my enemy." + +Jeanne looked surprised. + +"And you are his protégée," continued the queen; "tell me all about it." + +"It is very simple; his eminence has assisted me in the most generous, +yet the most considerate, manner." + +"Good; Prince Louis is generous; no one can deny that. But do you not +think, Andrée, that M. le Cardinal also adores this pretty countess a +little? Come, countess, tell us." And Marie Antoinette laughed again in +her frank, joyous manner. + +"All this gaiety must be put on," thought Jeanne. So she answered, in a +grave tone, "Madame, I have the honor to affirm to your majesty that M. +de Rohan----" + +"Well, since you are his friend, ask him what he did with some hair of +mine which he bribed a certain hair-dresser to steal; and which trick +cost the poor man dear, for he lost my custom." + +"Your majesty surprises me; M. de Rohan did that?" + +"Oh, yes; all his adoration, you know. After having hated me at Vienna, +and having employed every means to try and prevent my marriage, he at +last began to perceive that I was a woman, and his queen, and that he +had offended me forever. Then this dear prince began to fear for his +future, and, like all of his profession, who seem most fond of those +whom they most fear, and as he knew me young and believed me foolish and +vain, he turned--he became a professed admirer, and began with sighs and +glances. He adores me, does he not, Andrée?" + +"Madame!" + +"Oh! Andrée will not compromise herself, but I say what I please; at +least I may have that advantage from being a queen. So it is a settled +thing that the cardinal adores me, and you may tell him, countess, that +he has my permission." + +Jeanne, instead of seeing in all this only the angry disdain of a noble +character, which she was incapable of appreciating, thought it all pique +against M. de Rohan, hiding another feeling for him, and therefore began +to defend him with all her eloquence. + +The queen listened. + +"Good! she listens," thought Jeanne, and did not again understand that +she listened through generosity, and through pleasure at anything so +novel as to hear any person defend one of whom the sovereign chose to +speak ill, and felt pleased with her, thinking she saw a heart where +none was placed. + +All at once a joyous voice was heard near, and the queen said, "Here is +the Comte d'Artois." + +When he entered, the queen introduced the countess to him. + +"Pray do not let me send you away, Madame la Comtesse," said he, as +Jeanne made a move to depart. + +The queen also requested her to stay. "You have returned from the +wolf-hunt, then?" she said. + +"Yes, sister, and have had good sport; I have killed seven. I am not +sure," continued he, laughing, "but they say so. However, do you know I +have gained seven hundred francs?" + +"How?" + +"Why, they pay a hundred francs a head for these beasts. It is dear, but +I would give two hundred of them just now for the head of a certain +journalist." + +"Ah! you know the story?" + +"M. de Provence told me." + +"He is indefatigable. But tell me how he related it." + +"So as to make you whiter than snow, or Venus Aphroditus. It seems you +came out of it gloriously; you are fortunate." + +"Oh, you call that fortunate. Do you hear him, Andrée?" + +"Yes, for you might have gone alone, without Madame de Lamballe; and you +might not have had Madame de la Motte there to stop your entrance." + +"Ah! you know that too?" + +"Oh yes; the count told everything. Then you might not have had Madame +de la Motte at hand to give her testimony. You will tell me, doubtless, +that virtue and innocence are like the violet which does not require to +be seen in order to be recognized; but still I say you are fortunate." + +"Badly proved." + +"I will prove it still better. Saved so well from the unlucky scrape of +the cabriolet, saved from this affair, and then the ball," whispered he +in her ear. + +"What ball?" + +"The ball at the Opera." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I mean the ball at the Opera; but I beg pardon, I should not have +mentioned it." + +"Really, brother, you puzzle me; I know nothing about the ball at the +Opera." + +The words "ball" and "Opera" caught Jeanne's ear, and she listened +intently. + +"I am dumb," said the prince. + +"But, count, I insist on knowing what it means." + +"Oh, pray allow me to let it drop." + +"Do you want to disoblige me?" + +"No, sister; but I have said quite enough for you to understand." + +"You have told me nothing." + +"Oh, sister, it is needless with me." + +"But really I am in earnest." + +"You wish me to speak?" + +"Immediately." + +"Not here," said he, looking at the others. + +"Yes, here; there cannot be too many at such an explanation." + +"Then you mean to say you were not at the last ball?" + +"I!" cried the queen, "at the ball at the Opera?" + +"Hush, I beg." + +"No, I will not hush; I will speak it aloud. You say I was at the ball?" + +"Certainly I do." + +"Perhaps you saw me?" she said ironically. + +"Yes, I did." + +"Me?" + +"Yes, you." + +"Oh, it is too much! Why did you not speak to me?" + +"Ma foi! I was just going to do so, when the crowd separated us." + +"You are mad!" + +"I should not have spoken of it. I have been very foolish." + +The queen rose, and walked up and down the room in great agitation. + +Andrée trembled with fear and disquietude, and Jeanne could hardly keep +from laughing. + +Then the queen stopped, and said: + +"My friend, do not jest any more; you see, I am so passionate that I +have lost my temper already. Tell me at once that you were joking with +me." + +"I will, if you please, sister." + +"Be serious, Charles. You have invented all this, have you not?" + +He winked at the ladies, and said, "Oh, yes, of course." + +"You do not understand me, brother!" cried the queen vehemently. "Say +yes or no. Do not tell falsehoods; I only want the truth!" + +"Well, then, sister," said he, in a low voice, "I have told the truth, +but I am sorry I spoke." + +"You saw me there?" + +"As plain as I see you now; and you saw me." + +The queen uttered a cry, and, running up to Andrée and Jeanne, cried, +"Ladies, M. le Comte d'Artois affirms that he saw me at the ball at the +Opera; let him prove it." + +"Well," said he, "I was with M. de Richelieu and others, when your mask +fell off." + +"My mask!" + +"I was about to say, 'This is too rash, sister,' but the gentleman with +you drew you away so quickly." + +"Oh, mon Dieu! you will drive me mad! What gentleman?" + +"The blue domino." + +The queen passed her hand over her eyes. + +"What day was this?" she asked. + +"Saturday. The next day I set off to hunt, before you were up." + +"What time do you say you saw me?" + +"Between two and three." + +"Decidedly one of us is mad!" + +"Oh, it is I. It is all a mistake. Do not be so afraid; there is no harm +done. At first I thought you were with the king; but the blue domino +spoke German, and he does not." + +"Well, brother, on Saturday I went to bed at eleven." + +The count bowed, with an incredulous smile. + +The queen rang. "Madame de Misery shall tell you." + +"Why do you not call Laurent also?" said he, laughing. + +"Oh!" cried the queen in a rage, "not to be believed!" + +"My dear sister, if I believed you, others would not." + +"What others?" + +"Those who saw you as well as myself." + +"Who were they?" + +"M. Philippe de Taverney, for instance." + +"My brother?" cried Andrée. + +"Yes; shall we ask him?" + +"Immediately." + +"Mon Dieu!" murmured Andrée, "my brother a witness!" + +"Yes; I wish it;" and she went to seek him at his father's. + +He was just leaving, after the scene we have described with his father, +when the messenger met him. He came quickly, and Marie Antoinette turned +to him at once. + +"Sir," said she, "are you capable of speaking the truth?" + +"Incapable of anything else, madame." + +"Well, then, say frankly, have you seen me at any public place within +the last week?" + +"Yes, madame." + +All hearts beat so that you might have heard them. + +"Where?" said the queen, in a terrible voice. + +Philippe was silent. + +"Oh, no concealment, sir! My brother says you saw me at the ball of the +Opera." + +"I did, madame." + +The queen sank on a sofa; then, rising furiously, she said: + +"It is impossible, for I was not there! Take care, M. de Taverney!" + +"Your majesty," said Andrée, pale with anger, "if my brother says he saw +you, he did see you." + +"You also!" cried Marie Antoinette; "it only remains now for you to have +seen me. Pardieu! my enemies overwhelm me." + +"When I saw that the blue domino was not the king," said the Comte +d'Artois, "I believed him to be that nephew of M. de Suffren whom you +received so well here the other night." + +The queen colored. + +"Did it not look something like his tournure, M. de Taverney?" continued +the count. + +"I did not remark, monseigneur," said he, in a choking voice. + +"But I soon found out that it was not he; for suddenly I saw him before +me, and he was close by you when your mask fell off." + +"So he saw me too?" + +"If he were not blind, he did." + +The queen rang. + +"What are you about to do?" + +"Send for him also, and ask. I will drain this cup to the dregs!" + +"I do not think he can come," said Philippe. + +"Why?" + +"Because I believe he is not well." + +"Oh, he must come, monsieur! I am not well either, but I would go to the +end of the world barefoot to prove----" + +All at once Andrée, who was near the window, uttered an exclamation. + +"What is it?" cried the queen. + +"Oh, nothing; only here comes M. de Charny." + +The queen, in her excitement, ran to the window, opened it, and cried, +"M. de Charny!" + +He, full of astonishment, hastened to enter. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. + +AN ALIBI. + + +M. de Charny entered, a little pale, but upright, and not apparently +suffering. + +"Take care, sister," said the Comte d'Artois; "what is the use of asking +so many people?" + +"Brother, I will ask the whole world, till I meet some one who will tell +you you are deceived." + +Charny and Philippe bowed courteously to each other, and Philippe said +in a low voice, "You are surely mad to come out wounded; one would say +you wished to die." + +"One does not die from the scratch of a thorn in the Bois de Boulogne," +replied Charny. + +The queen approached, and put an end to this conversation. "M. de +Charny," said she, "these gentlemen say that you were at the ball at the +Opera?" + +"Yes, your majesty." + +"Tell us what you saw there." + +"Does your majesty mean whom I saw there?" + +"Precisely; and no complaisant reserve, M. de Charny." + +"Must I say, madame?" + +The cheeks of the queen assumed once more that deadly paleness, which +had many times that morning alternated with a burning red. + +"Did you see me?" she asked. + +"Yes, your majesty, at the moment when your mask unhappily fell off." + +Marie Antoinette clasped her hands. + +"Monsieur," said she, almost sobbing, "look at me well; are you sure of +what you say?" + +"Madame, your features are engraved in the hearts of your subjects; to +see your majesty once is to see you forever." + +"But, monsieur," said she, "I assure you I was not at the ball at the +Opera." + +"Oh, madame," said the young man, bowing low, "has not your majesty the +right to go where you please?" + +"I do not ask you to find excuses for me; I only ask you to believe." + +"I will believe all your majesty wishes me to believe," cried he. + +"Sister, sister, it is too much," murmured the count. + +"No one believes me!" cried she, throwing herself on the sofa, with +tears in her eyes. + +"Sister, pardon me," said the count tenderly, "you are surrounded by +devoted friends; this secret, which terrifies you so, we alone know. It +is confined to our hearts, and no one shall drag it from us while we +have life." + +"This secret! oh, I want nothing but to prove the truth." + +"Madame," said Andrée, "some one approaches." + +The king was announced. + +"The king! oh, so much the better. He is my only friend; he would not +believe me guilty even if he thought he saw me." + +The king entered with an air of calmness, in strange contrast to the +disturbed countenances of those present. + +"Sire," said the queen, "you come àpropos; there is yet another calumny, +another insult to combat." + +"What is it?" said Louis, advancing. + +"An infamous report. Aid me, sire, for now it is no longer my enemies +that accuse me, but my friends." + +"Your friends!" + +"Yes, sire; M. le Comte d'Artois, M. de Taverney, and M. de Charny +affirm that they saw me at the ball at the Opera." + +"At the ball at the Opera!" cried the king. + +A terrible silence ensued. + +Madame de la Motte saw the mortal paleness of the queen, the terrible +disquietude of the king and of all the others, and with one word she +could have put an end to all this, and saved the queen, not only now, +but in the future, from much distress. But she said to herself that it +was too late; that they would see, if she spoke now, that she had +deceived them before when the simple truth would have been of such +advantage to the queen, and she should forfeit her newly-acquired favor. +So she remained silent. + +The king repeated, with an air of anguish, "At the ball at the Opera! +Does M. de Provence know this?" + +"But, sire, it is not true. M. le Comte d'Artois is deceived; M. de +Taverney is deceived; M. de Charny, you are deceived, one may be +mistaken." + +All bowed. + +"Come," continued she, "call all my people, ask every one. You say it +was Saturday?" + +"Yes, sister." + +"Well, what did I do on Saturday? Let some one tell me, for I think I am +going mad, and shall begin at last to believe that I did go to this +infamous ball. But, gentlemen, if I had been there I would have +confessed it." + +At this moment the king approached her, every cloud gone from his brow. +"Well, Marie," said he, "if it was Saturday, there is no need to call +your women, or only to ask them at what hour I came to your room. I +believe it was past eleven." + +"Oh!" cried the queen, joyfully, "you are right, sire." And she threw +herself into his arms; then, blushing and confused, she hid her face on +his shoulder, while he kissed her tenderly. + +"Well," said the Comte d'Artois, full of both surprise and joy, "I will +certainly buy spectacles. But on my word, I would not have lost this +scene for a million of money. Would you, gentlemen?" + +Philippe was leaning against the wainscot as pale as death. Charny wiped +the burning drops from his forehead. + +"Therefore, gentlemen," said the king, turning towards them, "I know it +to be impossible that the queen was that night at the ball at the +Opera. Believe it or not, as you please. The queen I am sure is content +that I know her to be innocent." + +"Well," said M. d'Artois, "Provence may say what he pleases, but I defy +his wife to prove an alibi in the same way, if she should be accused of +passing the night out." + +"Charles!" + +"Pardon, sire, now I will take my leave." + +"Well, I will go with you." And once more kissing the queen's hand, they +left the room. + +"M. de Taverney," said the queen severely, when they were gone, "do you +not accompany M. d'Artois?" + +Philippe started, all the blood rushed to his head, and he had hardly +strength to bow and leave the room. + +Andrée was to be pitied also. She knew that Philippe would have given +the world to have taken M. de Charny away with him, but she felt as +though she could not follow to comfort him, leaving Charny alone with +the queen, or only with Madame de la Motte, who, she instinctively felt, +was worse than no one. But why this feeling? She could not love Charny; +that, she told herself, was impossible. So slight and recent an +acquaintance, and she who had vowed to love no one. Why then did she +suffer so much when Charny addressed words of such respectful devotion +to the queen? Was not this jealousy? "Yes," she thought, but only +jealousy that this woman should draw all hearts towards her, while the +whole world of gallantry and love passed her coldly by. It was no +attraction to be a living problem, ever cold and reserved like Andrée; +they felt it, turned from her beauty and her intellect, and contented +themselves with mere politeness. Andrée felt this deeply; but on the +night when they first met Charny, he showed towards her nothing of this +coldness or reserve; she was to him as interesting as any other +beautiful woman, and she felt cheered and warmed by it. But now the +queen absorbed his every look and thought, and left her lonely again; +therefore she did not follow her brother, although she suffered in his +sufferings, and almost idolized him. She did not, however, attempt to +mingle in the conversation, but sat down by the fire almost with her +back to the queen and Charny, while Madame de la Motte stood in one of +the deep windows, nearly out of sight, although she could observe all +that passed. + +The Queen remained silent for some minutes, then she said, almost to +herself, "Would any one believe that such things pass here?" Then, +turning to Charny, said, "We hear, sir, of the dangers of the sea and of +the fury of tempests, but you have doubtless encountered all their +assaults, and you are still safe and honored." + +"Madame----" + +"Then the English, our enemies, have attacked you with their guns and +their power, but still you are safe; and on account of the enemies you +have conquered, the king felicitates and admires you, and the people +bless and love you; therefore, blessed are such enemies who menace us +only with death. Our enemies do not endanger existence, it is true, but +they add years to our lives; they make us bow the head, fearing, though +innocent, to meet, as I have done, the double attacks of friends and +enemies. And then, sir, if you knew how hard it is to be hated!" + +Andrée listened anxiously for his reply, but he only leaned against the +wall, and grew pale. + +The queen looked at him, and said, "It is too hot here; Madame de la +Motte, open the window; monsieur is accustomed to the fresh sea-breezes; +he would stifle in our boudoirs." + +"It is not that, madame; but I am on duty at two o'clock, and unless +your majesty wishes me to remain----" + +"Oh! no, monsieur; we know what duty is. You are free," said the queen, +in a tone of slight pique. + +Charny bowed, and disappeared like a man in haste; but in a minute they +heard from the ante-chamber the sound of a groan, and people hurrying +forward. The queen, who was near the door, opened it, and uttered an +exclamation; and was going out, when Andrée rose quickly, saying, "Oh +no! madame." + +Then they saw through the open door the guards assisting M. de Charny, +who had fainted. The queen closed the door, and sat down again, pensive +and thoughtful. At last, she said, "It is an odd thing, but I do not +believe M. de Charny was convinced!" + +"Oh, madame! in spite of the king's word--impossible!" + +"He may have thought the king said it for his own sake." + +"My brother was not so incredulous," said Andrée. + +"It would be very wrong," continued the queen, not heeding her; "he +could not have as noble a heart as I thought. But, after all, why should +he believe? He thought he saw me. They all thought so. There is +something in all this; something which I must clear up. Andrée, I must +find out what it all means." + +"Your majesty is right; you must investigate it." + +"For," continued the queen, "people said they saw me at M. Mesmer's." + +"But your majesty was there," said Madame de la Motte. + +"Yes; but I did not do what they insist they saw me do. And they saw me +at the Opera, and I was not there. Oh!" cried she, "at last I guess the +truth." + +"The truth!" stammered the countess. + +"Oh! I hope so," said Andrée. + +"Send for M. de Crosne," said the queen, joyously. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII. + +M. DE CROSNE. + + +M. de Crosne had felt himself in no slight degree embarrassed since his +interview with the king and queen. It was no light matter to have the +care of the interests of a crown and of the fame of a queen; and he +feared that he was about to encounter all the weight of a woman's anger +and a queen's indignation. He knew, however, that he had but done his +duty, and he entered, therefore, tranquilly, with a smile on his face. + +"Now, M. de Crosne," said the queen, "it is our turn for an +explanation." + +"I am at your majesty's orders." + +"You ought to know the cause of all that has happened to me, sir." + +M. de Crosne looked round him rather frightened. + +"Never mind these ladies," said the queen; "you know them both; you know +every one." + +"Nearly," said the magistrate; "and I know the effects, but not the +cause, of what has happened to your majesty." + +"Then I must enlighten you, although it is a disagreeable task. I might +tell you in private, but my thoughts and words are always open as the +day; all the world may know them. I attribute the attacks that have been +made upon me to the misconduct of some one who resembles me, and who +goes everywhere; and thus your agents have made these mistakes." + +"A resemblance!" cried M. de Crosne, too much occupied with the idea to +observe the unquiet look which Jeanne could not for a moment prevent +appearing. + +"Well, sir, do you think this impossible; or do you prefer to think that +I am deceiving you?" + +"Oh no, madame! but surely, however strong a resemblance may be, there +must be some points of difference to prevent people being so deceived." + +"It seems not, sir; some are deceived." + +"Oh! and I remember," said Andrée, "when we lived at Taverney Maison +Rouge, we had a servant who very strongly----" + +"Resembled me?" + +"Most wonderfully, your majesty." + +"And what became of her?" + +"We did not then know the great generosity of your majesty's mind, and +my father feared that this resemblance might be disagreeable to you; and +when we were at Trianon we kept her out of sight." + +"You see, M. de Crosne. Ah! this interests you." + +"Much, madame." + +"Afterwards, dear Andrée?" + +"Madame, this girl, who was of an ambitious disposition and troublesome +temper, grew tired of this quiet life, and had doubtless made bad +acquaintances, for one night when I went to bed I was surprised not to +see her; we sought her in vain, she had disappeared." + +"Did she steal anything?" + +"Nothing, madame." + +"You did not know all this, M. de Crosne?" + +"No, madame." + +"Thus, then, there is a woman whose resemblance to me is striking, and +you do not know her. I fear your police is badly organized." + +"No, madame; a police magistrate is but a man, and though the vulgar may +rate his power as something almost superhuman, your majesty is more +reasonable." + +"Still, sir, when a man has secured all possible powers for penetrating +secrets, when he pays agents and spies, and to such an extent as to know +every movement I make, he might prevent this sort of thing." + +"Madame, when your majesty passed the night out, I knew it, the day you +went to see madame at the Rue St. Claude; therefore my police is not +bad. When you went to M. Mesmer's, my agents saw you. When you went to +the Opera----" + +The queen started. + +"Pardon me, madame, if I saw you; but if your own brother-in-law mistook +you, surely an agent at a crown a day may be pardoned for having done +so. They thought they saw you, and reported accordingly; therefore my +police is not bad. They also knew this affair of the journalist, so well +punished by M. de Charny." + +"M. de Charny!" cried the queen and Andrée in a breath. + +"Yes, madame: his blows are yet fresh on the shoulders of the +journalist." + +"M. de Charny committed himself with this fellow!" + +"I know it by my calumniated police, madame; and also, which was more +difficult, the duel which followed." + +"A duel! M. de Charny fought?" + +"With the journalist?" asked Andrée. + +"No, madame; the journalist was too well beaten to give M. de Charny the +sword-thrust which made him faint here just now." + +"Wounded!" cried the queen; "how and when? He was here just now." + +"Oh!" said Andrée, "I saw that he suffered." + +"What do you say?" cried the queen, almost angrily; "you saw that he +suffered, and did not mention it!" + +Andrée did not reply. + +Jeanne, who wished to make a friend of her, came to her aid, saying, "I +also, madame, saw that M. de Charny had difficulty in standing up while +your majesty spoke to him." + +"Monsieur," said the queen again to M. de Crosne, "with whom and why did +M. de Charny fight?" + +"With a gentleman who---- But really, madame, it is useless now. The two +adversaries are friends again, for they spoke just now in your majesty's +presence." + +"In my presence!" + +"Yes, madame; the conqueror left about twenty minutes ago." + +"M. de Taverney!" cried the queen. + +"My brother!" murmured Andrée. + +"I believe," said M. de Crosne, "that it was he with whom M. de Charny +fought." + +The queen made an angry gesture. "It is not right," she said; "these are +American manners brought to Versailles. It is not because one has fought +under M. Lafayette and Washington that my court should be disgraced by +such proceedings. Andrée, did you know your brother had fought?" + +"Not till this moment, madame." + +"Why did he fight?" + +"If my brother fought," said Andrée, "it was in your majesty's +service." + +"That is to say, that M. de Charny fought against me." + +"Your majesty, I spoke only of my brother, and of no one else." + +The queen tried hard to remain calm. She walked once or twice up and +down the room, and then said, "M. de Crosne, you have convinced me: I +was much disturbed by these rumors and accusations; your police is +efficient, but I beg you not to forget to investigate this resemblance +of which I have spoken. Adieu!" and she held out her hand to him with +her own peculiar grace. + +Andrée made a movement to depart. The queen gave her a careless adieu. + +Jeanne also prepared to leave, when Madame de Misery entered. + +"Madame," said she to the queen, "did your majesty appoint this hour to +receive MM. Boehmer and Bossange?" + +"Oh, yes, it is true; let them come in. Remain a little longer, Madame +de la Motte; I want the king to make a full peace with you." Perhaps she +wished to pique Andrée by this favor to a newcomer, but Andrée did not +seem to heed. + +"All these Taverneys are made of iron," thought the queen. "Ah, +gentlemen, what do you bring me now? you know I have no money." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX. + +THE TEMPTRESS. + + +Madame de la Motte remained, therefore, as before. + +"Madame," replied M. Boehmer, "we do not come to offer anything to +your majesty, we should fear to be indiscreet; but we come to fulfil a +duty, and that has emboldened us----" + +"A duty?" + +"Concerning the necklace which your majesty did not deign to take." + +"Oh! then, the necklace has come again," said Marie Antoinette, +laughing. "It was really beautiful, M. Boehmer." + +"So beautiful," said Bossange, "that your majesty alone was worthy to +wear it." + +"My consolation is," said the queen, with a sigh which did not escape +Jeanne, "that it cost a million and a half. Was not that the price, M. +Boehmer?" + +"Yes, your majesty." + +"And in these times," continued the queen, "there is no sovereign that +can give such a sum for a necklace; so that although I cannot wear it, +no one else can: and once broken up, I should care nothing about it." + +"That is an error of your majesty's; the necklace is sold." + +"Sold!" cried the queen. "To whom?" + +"Ah! madame, that is a state secret." + +"Oh!" said the queen, "I think I am safe. A state secret means that +there is nothing to tell." + +"With your majesty," continued Boehmer, as gravely as ever, "we do not +act as with others. The necklace is sold, but in the most secret manner, +and an ambassador----" + +"I really think he believes it himself!" interrupted the queen, laughing +again. "Come, M. Boehmer, tell me at least the country he comes from, +or, at all events, the first letter of his name." + +"Madame, it is the ambassador from Portugal," said Boehmer, in a low +voice, that Madame de la Motte might not hear. + +"The ambassador from Portugal!" said the queen. "There is none here, M. +Boehmer." + +"He came expressly for this, madame." + +"Do you imagine so?" + +"Yes, madame." + +"What is his name?" + +"M. de Souza." + +The queen did not reply for a few minutes, and then said, "Well, so much +the better for the Queen of Portugal. Let us speak of it no more." + +"But allow us one moment, madame," said Boehmer. + +"Have you ever seen those diamonds?" said the queen to Jeanne. + +"No, madame." + +"They are beautiful. It is a pity these gentlemen have not brought +them." + +"Here they are," said Boehmer, opening the case. + +"Come, countess, you are a woman, and these will please you." + +Jeanne uttered a cry of admiration when she saw them, and said, "They +are indeed beautiful." + +"1,500,000 francs, which you hold in the palm of your hand," said the +queen. + +"Monsieur was right," said Jeanne, "when he said that no one was worthy +to wear these diamonds but your majesty." + +"However, my majesty will not wear them." + +"We could not let them leave France without expressing our regret to +your majesty. It is a necklace which is now known all over Europe, and +we wished to know definitively that your majesty really refused it +before we parted with it." + +"My refusal has been made public," said the queen, "and has been too +much applauded for me to repent of it." + +"Oh, madame!" said Boehmer, "if the people found it admirable that +your majesty preferred a ship of war to a necklace, the nobility at +least would not think it surprising if you bought the necklace after +all." + +"Do not speak of it any more," said Marie Antoinette, casting at the +same time a longing look at the casket. + +Jeanne sighed, "Ah, you sigh, countess; in my place you would act +differently." + +"I do not know, madame." + +"Have you looked enough?" + +"Oh no! I could look forever." + +"Let her look, gentlemen; that takes nothing from the value. +Unfortunately, they are still worth 1,500,000 francs." + +"Oh," thought Jeanne, "she is regretting it." And she said, "On your +neck, madame, they would make all women die with jealousy, were they as +beautiful as Cleopatra or Venus." And, approaching, she clasped it round +her neck. "Ah, your majesty is beautiful so!" + +The queen turned to the mirror. It was really splendid; every one must +have admired. Marie Antoinette forgot herself for a time in admiration; +then, seized with fear, she tried to take it off. + +"It has touched your majesty's neck; it ought not to belong to any one +else," said Boehmer. + +"Impossible!" said the queen, firmly. "Gentlemen, I have amused myself +with these jewels; to do more would be a fault." + +"We will return to-morrow," said Boehmer. + +"No; I must pay sooner or later; and, besides, doubtless you want your +money. You will get it soon." + +"Yes, your majesty," said the merchant, a man of business again. + +"Take the necklace back," said the queen; "put it away immediately." + +"Your majesty forgets that such a thing is equal to money itself." + +"And that in a hundred years it will be worth as much as it is now," +said Jeanne. + +"Give me 1,500,000 francs," said the queen, "and we shall see." + +"Oh, if I had them!" + +MM. Boehmer and Bossange took as long as possible to put back the +necklace, but the queen did not speak. + +At last they said, "Your majesty refuses them?" + +"Yes, oh yes!" And they quitted the room. + +Marie Antoinette remained sitting, looking rather gloomy, and beating +with her foot in an impatient manner; at last she said, "Countess, it +seems the king will not return; we must defer our supplication till +another time." + +Jeanne bowed respectfully. + +"But I will not forget you," added the queen. + +"She is regretting and desiring," thought Jeanne, as she left; "and yet +she is a queen." + + + + +CHAPTER XL. + +TWO AMBITIONS THAT WISH TO PASS FOR TWO LOVES. + + +When Jeanne returned to her pretty little house in the faubourg, it was +still early; so she took a pen and wrote a few rapid lines, enclosed +them in a perfumed envelope, and rang the bell. "Take this letter to +Monseigneur the Cardinal de Rohan," said she. + +In five minutes the man returned. + +"Well," said Madame de la Motte, impatiently, "why are you not gone?" + +"Just as I left the house, madame, his eminence came to the door. I told +him I was about to go to his hotel with a letter from you; he read it, +and is now waiting to come in." + +"Let him enter," said the countess. + +Jeanne had been thinking all the way home of the beautiful necklace, and +wishing it was hers. It would be a fortune in itself. + +The cardinal entered. He also was full of desires and ambitions, which +he wished to hide under the mask of love. + +"Ah, dear Jeanne," said he, "you have really become so necessary to me +that I have been gloomy all day knowing you to be so far off. But you +have returned from Versailles?" + +"As you see, monseigneur." + +"And content?" + +"Enchanted." + +"The queen received you, then?" + +"I was introduced immediately on my arrival." + +"You were fortunate. I suppose, from your triumphant air, that she spoke +to you." + +"I passed three hours in her majesty's cabinet." + +"Three hours! You are really an enchantress whom no one can resist. But +perhaps you exaggerate. Three hours!" he repeated; "how many things a +clever woman like you might say in three hours!" + +"Oh, I assure you, monseigneur, that I did not waste my time." + +"I dare say that in the whole three hours you did not once think of me." + +"Ungrateful man!" + +"Really!" cried the cardinal. + +"I did more than think of you; I spoke of you." + +"Spoke of me! to whom?" asked the prelate, in a voice from which all his +power over himself could not banish some emotion. + +"To whom should it be but to the queen?" + +"Ah, dear countess, tell me about it. I interest myself so much in all +that concerns you, that I should like to hear the most minute details." + +Jeanne smiled. She knew what interested the cardinal as well as he did +himself. Then she related to him all the circumstances which had so +fortunately made her, from a stranger, almost the friend and confidant +of the queen. + +Scarcely had she finished, when the servant entered to announce supper. + +Jeanne invited the cardinal to accompany her. + +He gave her his arm, and they went in together. + +During supper, the cardinal continued to drink in long draughts of love +and hope from the recitals which Jeanne kept making to him from time to +time. He remarked also, with surprise, that, instead of making herself +sought like a woman that knows that you have need of her, she had thrown +off all her former pride, and only seemed anxious to please him. She did +the honors of her table as if she had all her life mixed in the highest +circles; there was neither awkwardness nor embarrassment. + +"Countess," said he at length, "there are two women in you." + +"How so?" + +"One of yesterday, and another of to-day." + +"And which does your excellency prefer?" + +"I do not know, but at least the one of this evening is a Circe--a +something irresistible." + +"And which you will not attempt to resist, I hope, prince as you are." + +The cardinal imprinted a long kiss on her hand. + + + + +CHAPTER XLI. + +FACES UNDER THEIR MASKS. + + +Two hours had elapsed, and the conversation still continued. The +cardinal was now the slave, and Jeanne was triumphant. Two men often +deceive each other as they shake hands, a man and a woman as they kiss; +but here, each only deceived the other because they wished to be +deceived: each had an end to gain, and for that end intimacy was +necessary. + +The cardinal now did not demonstrate his impatience, but always managed +to bring back the conversation to Versailles, and to the honors which +awaited the queen's new favorite. + +"She is generous," said he, "and spares nothing towards those she loves. +She has the rare talent of giving a little to every one, and a great +deal to a few." + +"You think, then, she is rich?" + +"She makes resources with a word or a smile; no minister, except perhaps +Turgot, ever refused her anything." + +"Well," said Madame de la Motte, "I have seen her poorer than you +think." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Are those rich who are obliged to impose privations on themselves?" + +"Privations! What do you mean, dear countess?" + +"I will tell you what I saw--I saw the queen suffer. Do you know what a +woman's desire is, my dear prince?" + +"No, countess; but I should like you to tell me." + +"Well, the queen has a desire, which she cannot satisfy." + +"For what?" + +"For a diamond necklace." + +"Oh, I know what you mean--the diamonds of MM. Boehmer and Bossange." + +"Precisely." + +"That is an old story, countess." + +"Old or new, it is a real vexation for a queen not to be able to buy +what was intended for a simple favorite. Fifteen more days added to the +life of Louis XV., and Jeanne Vaubernier would have had what Marie +Antoinette cannot buy." + +"My dear countess, you mistake; the queen could have had it, and she +refused it; the king offered them to her." + +And he recounted the history of the ship of war. + +"Well," said she, "after all, what does that prove?" + +"That she did not want them, it seems to me." + +Jeanne shrugged her shoulders. + +"You know women and courts, and believe that? The queen wanted to do a +popular act, and she has done it." + +"Good!" said the cardinal; "that is how you believe in the royal +virtues. Ah, skeptic, St. Thomas was credulous, compared to you!" + +"Skeptic or not, I can assure you of one thing--that the queen had no +sooner refused it than she earnestly desired to have it." + +"You imagine all this, my dear countess; for if the queen has one +quality more than another, it is disinterestedness. She does not care +for gold or jewels, and likes a simple flower as well as a diamond." + +"I do not know that; I only know she wishes for this necklace." + +"Prove it, countess." + +"It is easy. I saw the necklace, and touched it." + +"Where?" + +"At Versailles, when the jewelers brought it for the last time to try +and tempt the queen." + +"And it is beautiful?" + +"Marvelous! I, who am a woman, think that one might lose sleep and +appetite in wishing for it." + +"Alas! why have I not a vessel to give the king?" + +"A vessel!" + +"Yes, for in return he would give me the necklace, and then you could +eat and sleep in peace." + +"You laugh." + +"No, really." + +"Well, I will tell you something that will astonish you. I would not +have the necklace." + +"So much the better, countess, for I could not give it to you." + +"Neither you nor any one--that is what the queen feels." + +"But I tell you that the king offered it to her." + +"And I tell you that women like best those presents that come from +people from whom they are not forced to accept them." + +"I do not understand you." + +"Well, never mind; and, after all, what does it matter to you, since you +cannot have it?" + +"Oh, if I were king and you were queen, I would force you to have it." + +"Well, without being king, oblige the queen to have it, and see if she +is angry, as you suppose she would be." + +The cardinal looked at her with wonder. + +"You are sure," said he, "that you are not deceived, and that the queen +wishes for it?" + +"Intensely. Listen, dear prince. Did you tell me, or where did I hear +it, that you would like to be minister?" + +"You may have heard me say so, countess." + +"Well, I will bet that the queen would make that man a minister who +would place the necklace on her toilet within a week." + +"Oh, countess!" + +"I say what I think. Would you rather I kept silent?" + +"Certainly not." + +"However, it does not concern you, after all. It is absurd to suppose +that you would throw away a million and a half on a royal caprice; that +would be paying too dearly for the portfolio, which you ought to have +for nothing, so think no more of what I have said." + +The cardinal continued silent and thoughtful. + +"Ah, you despise me now!" continued she; "you think I judge the queen by +myself. So I do; I thought she wanted these diamonds because she sighed +as she looked at them, and because in her place I should have coveted +them." + +"You are an adorable woman, countess! You have, by a wonderful +combination, softness of mind and strength of heart; sometimes you are +so little of a woman that I am frightened; at others, so charmingly so, +that I bless Heaven and you for it. And now we will talk of business no +more." + +"So be it," thought Jeanne; "but I believe the bait has taken, +nevertheless." + +Indeed, although the cardinal said, "Speak of it no more," in a few +minutes he asked, "Does not Boehmer live somewhere on the Quai de la +Ferraille, near the Pont Neuf?" + +"Yes, you are right; I saw the name on the door as I drove along." + +Jeanne was not mistaken--the fish had taken the hook; and the next +morning the cardinal drove to M. Boehmer. He intended to preserve his +incognito, but they knew him, and called him "Monseigneur" directly. + +"Well, gentlemen," said he, "if you know me, keep my secret from +others." + +"Monseigneur may rely upon us. What can we do for your eminence?" + +"I come to buy the necklace which you showed her majesty." + +"Really we are in despair, but it is too late." + +"How so?" + +"It is sold." + +"Impossible, as you offered it only yesterday to the queen." + +"Who again refused it, so our other bargain held good." + +"And with whom was this bargain?" + +"It is secret, monseigneur." + +"Too many secrets, M. Boehmer," said he, rising; "but I should have +thought that a French jeweler would prefer selling these beautiful +stones in France. You prefer Portugal--very well." + +"Monseigneur knows that!" cried the jeweler. + +"Well, is that astonishing?" + +"No one knew it but the queen." + +"And if that were so?" said M. de Rohan without contradicting a +supposition that flattered him. + +"Ah! that would change matters." + +"Why so, sir?" + +"May I speak freely?" + +"Certainly." + +"The queen wishes for the necklace." + +"You think so?" + +"I am sure of it." + +"Then why did she not buy it?" + +"Because she had already refused the king, and she thought it would look +capricious to buy it now." + +"But the king wished her to have it." + +"Yes, but he thanked her for refusing; therefore I think she wishes to +have it without seeming to buy it." + +"Well, you are wrong, sir." + +"I am sorry for it, monseigneur. It would have been our only excuse for +breaking our word to the Portuguese ambassador." + +The cardinal reflected for a moment. "Then, sir, let us suppose that the +queen wishes for your necklace." + +"Oh! in that case, monseigneur, we would break through anything, that +she should have it." + +"What is the price?" + +"1,500,000 francs." + +"How do you want payment?" + +"The Portuguese was to give 100,000 francs down, and I was to take the +necklace myself to Lisbon, where the balance was to be paid." + +"Well, the 100,000 francs down you shall have; that is reasonable. As +for the rest----" + +"Your eminence wishes for time? With such a guarantee, we should not +object; only credit implies a loss. The interest of our money must be +considered." + +"Well, call it 1,600,000 francs, and divide the time of payment into +three periods, making a year." + +"That would be a loss to us, sir." + +"Oh! nonsense; if I paid you the whole amount to-morrow, you would +hardly know what to do with it." + +"There are two of us, monseigneur." + +"Well, you will receive 500,000 francs every four months. That ought to +satisfy you." + +"Monseigneur forgets that these diamonds do not belong to us; if they +did, we should be rich enough to wait; they belong to a dozen different +creditors. We got some from Hamburg, some from Naples, one at Buenos +Ayres, and one at Moscow. All these people wait for the sale of the +necklace to be paid. The profit that we make is all that will be ours; +and we have already had it two years on hand." + +M. de Rohan interrupted him. "After all," said he, "I have not seen the +necklace." + +"True, monseigneur; here it is." + +"It is really superb," cried the cardinal; "it is a bargain?" + +"Yes, monseigneur. I must go to the ambassador and excuse myself." + +"I did not think there was a Portuguese ambassador just now." + +"M. de Souza arrived incognito." + +"To buy this necklace?" + +"Yes, monseigneur." + +"Oh! poor Souza, I know him well," said he, laughing. + +"With whom am I to conclude the transaction?" asked M. Boehmer. + +"With myself; you will see no one else. To-morrow I will bring the +100,000 francs, and will sign the agreement. And as you are a man of +secrets, M. Boehmer, remember that you now possess an important one." + +"Monseigneur, I feel it, and will merit your confidence and the +queen's." + +M. de Rohan went away happy, like all men who ruin themselves in a +transport of passion. + +The next day M. Boehmer went to the hotel of the Portuguese +ambassador. At the moment he knocked at the door, M. Beausire was going +through some accounts with M. Ducorneau, while Don Manoël was taking +over some new plan with the valet, his associate. + +M. Ducorneau was charmed to find an ambassador so free from national +prejudice as to have formed his whole establishment of Frenchmen. Thus +his conversation was full of praises of him. + +"The Souzas, you see," replied Beausire, "are not of the old school of +Portuguese. They are great travelers, very rich, who might be kings if +they liked." + +"And do they not?" + +"Why should they? With a certain number of millions, and the name of a +prince, one is better than a king." + +"Ah, Portugal will soon become great with such men at its head. But when +is the presentation to take place? It is most anxiously looked for. The +people around begin to talk of it, and to collect about the doors of the +hotel, as though they were of glass, and they could see through." + +"Do you mean the people of the neighborhood?" asked Beausire. + +"And others; for, the mission of M. de Souza being a secret one, you may +be sure the police would soon interest themselves about it; and look," +continued Ducorneau, leading Beausire to the window, "do you see that +man in the brown surtout, how he looks at the house?" + +"Yes, he does indeed. Who do you take him to be?" + +"Probably a spy of M. de Crosne. However, between ourselves, M. de +Crosne is not equal to M. Sartines. Did you know him?" + +"No." + +"Ah! he would have found out all about you long ago, in spite of all +your precautions." + +A bell rang. "His excellency rings!" said Beausire, who was beginning to +feel embarrassed by the conversation, and opening the door quickly, he +nearly knocked down two of the clerks who were listening. + + + + +CHAPTER XLII. + +IN WHICH M. DUCORNEAU UNDERSTANDS NOTHING OF WHAT IS PASSING. + + +Don Manoël was less yellow than usual, that is to say, he was more red. +He had just been having a fierce altercation with his valet, and they +were still disputing when Beausire entered. + +"Come, M. Beausire, and set us right," said the valet. + +"About what?" + +"This 100,000 francs. It is the property of the association, is it not?" + +"Certainly." + +"Ah, M. Beausire agrees with me." + +"Wait," said Don Manoël. + +"Well, then," continued the valet, "the chest ought not to be kept close +to the ambassador's room." + +"Why not?" asked Beausire. + +"M. Manoël ought to give us each a key to it." + +"Not so," said Manoël; "do you suspect me of wishing to rob the +association? I may equally suspect you, when you ask for a key." + +"But," said the valet, "we have all equal rights." + +"Really, monsieur, if you wish to make us all equal, we ought to have +played the ambassador in turn. It would have been less plausible in the +eyes of the public, but it would have satisfied you." + +"And besides," said Beausire, "M. Manoël has the incontestable privilege +of the inventor." + +"Oh," replied the valet, "the thing once started, there are no more +privileges. I do not speak for myself only; all our comrades think the +same." + +"They are wrong," said both Manoël and Beausire. + +"I was wrong myself to take the opinion of M. Beausire; of course the +secretary supports the ambassador." + +"Monsieur," replied Beausire, "you are a knave, whose ears I would slit, +if it had not already been done too often. You insult me by saying that +I have an understanding with Manoël." + +"And me also," said Manoël. + +"And I demand satisfaction," added Beausire. + +"Oh, I am no fighter." + +"So I see," said Beausire, seizing hold of him. + +"Help! help!" cried the valet, attacked at once by both of them. But +just then they heard a bell ring. + +"Leave him, and let him open the door," said Manoël. + +"Our comrades shall hear all this," replied the valet. + +"Tell them what you please; we will answer for our conduct." + +"M. Boehmer!" cried the porter from below. + +"Well, we shall have no more contests about the 100,000 francs," said +Manoël; "for they will disappear with M. Boehmer." + +M. Boehmer entered, followed by Bossange. Both looked humble and +embarrassed. Boehmer began, and explained that political reasons would +prevent their fulfilling their contract. + +Manoël cried out angrily; Beausire looked fierce. + +Manoël said "that the bargain was completed, and the money ready." + +Boehmer persisted. + +Manoël, always through Beausire, replied, "that his Government had been +apprised of the conclusion of the bargain, and that it was an insult to +his queen to break it off." + +M. Boehmer was very sorry, but it was impossible to act otherwise. + +Beausire, in Manoël's name, refused to accept the retractation, and +abused M. Boehmer as a man without faith, and ended by saying, "You +have found some one to pay more for it." + +The jewelers colored. + +Beausire saw that he was right, and feigned to consult his ambassador. +"Well," said he at length, "if another will give you more for your +diamonds, we would do the same, rather than have this affront offered to +our queen. Will you take 50,000 francs more?" + +Boehmer shook his head. + +"100,000, or even 150,000," continued Beausire, willing to offer +anything rather than lose the booty. + +The jewelers looked dazzled for a moment, consulted together, and then +said, "No, monsieur, it is useless to tempt us. A will more powerful +than our own compels us to decline. You understand, no doubt, that it is +not we who refuse. We only obey the orders of one greater than any of +us." + +Beausire and Manoël saw that it was useless to say more, and tried to +look and speak indifferently on the matter. + +Meanwhile the valet had been listening attentively, and just then making +an unlucky movement, stumbled against the door. Beausire ran to the +ante-chamber. "What on earth are you about?" cried he. + +"Monsieur, I bring the morning despatches." + +"Good," said Beausire, taking them from him, "now go." + +They were letters from Portugal, generally very insignificant, but +which, passing through their hands before going to Ducorneau, often gave +them useful information about the affairs of the embassy. + +The jewelers, hearing the word despatches, rose to leave like men who +had received their congé. + +"Well," said Manoël, when they were gone, "we are completely beaten. +Only 100,000 francs, a poor spoil; we shall have but 8,000 each." + +"It is not worth the trouble. But it might be 50,000 each." + +"Good," replied Manoël, "but the valet will never leave us now he knows +the affair has failed." + +"Oh, I know how we will manage him. He will return immediately, and +claim his share and that of his comrades, and we shall have the whole +house on our hands. Well, I will call him first to a secret conference; +then leave me to act." + +"I think I understand," said Manoël. + +Neither, however, would leave his friend alone with the chest while he +went to call him. + +Manoël said "that his dignity as ambassador prevented him from taking +such a step." + +"You are not ambassador to him," said Beausire; "however, I will call +through the window." + +The valet, who was just beginning a conversation with the porter, +hearing himself called, came up. + +Beausire said to him, with a smiling air, "I suppose you were telling +this business to the porter?" + +"Oh, no." + +"Are you sure?" + +"I swear!" + +"For if you were, you were committing a great folly, and have lost a +great deal of money." + +"How so?" + +"Why, at present only we three know the secret, and could divide the +100,000 francs between us, as they all now think we have given it to M. +Boehmer." + +"Morbleu!" cried the valet, "it is true: 33,300 francs each." + +"Then you accept?" + +"I should think so." + +"I said you were a rogue," said Beausire, in a thundering voice; "come, +Don Manoël, help me to seize this man, and give him up to our +associates." + +"Pardon! pardon!" cried the unfortunate, "I did but jest." + +"Shut him up until we can devise his punishment." + +The man began to cry out. + +"Take care," said Beausire, "that Ducorneau does not hear us." + +"If you do not leave me alone," said the valet, "I will denounce you +all." + +"And I will strangle you," said Don Manoël, trying to push him into a +neighboring closet. + +"Send away Ducorneau somewhere, Beausire, while I finish this fellow." + +When he had locked him up, he returned to the room. Beausire was not +there; Don Manoël felt tempted. He was alone, and Beausire might be some +little time; he could open the chest, take out all the bank-notes, and +be off in two minutes. He ran to the room where it was: the door was +locked. "Ah," thought he, "Beausire distrusted me, and locked the door +before he went." He forced back the lock with his sword, and then +uttered a terrible cry. The chest was opened and empty. Beausire had +got, as we know, a second key; he had forestalled Manoël. + +Manoël ran down like a madman; the porter was singing at the door--he +asked if Beausire had passed. + +"Yes, some ten minutes ago." + +Manoël became furious, summoned them all, and ran to release the +unfortunate valet. But when he told his story, Manoël was accused of +being an accomplice of Beausire, and they all turned against him. + +M. Ducorneau felt ready to faint, when he entered and saw the men +preparing to hang M. de Souza. "Hang M. de Souza!" cried he. "It is high +treason." + +At last they threw him into a cellar, fearing his cries would arouse the +neighborhood. + +At that moment loud knocks at the door disturbed them,--they looked at +each other in dismay. The knocks were repeated, and some one cried, +"Open in the name of the Portuguese ambassador." + +On hearing this, each made his escape in terror, as he best could, +scrambling over walls and roofs. The true ambassador could only enter by +the help of the police. + +They found and arrested M. Ducorneau, who slept that night in the +Châtelet. + +Thus ended the adventure of the sham embassy from the Portugal. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII. + +ILLUSIONS AND REALITIES. + + +Beausire, on leaving the house, ran as fast as possible down the Rue +Coquillière, then into the Rue St. Honoré, and took everywhere the most +intricate and improbable turnings he could think of, and continued this +until he became quite exhausted. Then, thinking himself tolerably safe, +he sat down in the corn market, on a sack, to recover his breath. "Ah!" +thought he, "now I have made my fortune; I will be an honest man for the +future, and I will make Oliva an honest woman. She is beautiful, and she +will not mind leading a retired life with me in some province, where we +shall live like lords. She is very good; she has but two faults, +idleness and pride, and as I shall satisfy her on both these points, she +will be perfect." He then began to reflect on what he should do next. +They would seek him, of course, and most likely divide into different +parties, and some would probably go first to his own house. Here lay his +great difficulty, for there they would find Oliva, and they might +ill-treat her. They might even take her as a hostage, speculating on his +love for her. What should he do? Love carried the day; he ran off again +like lightning, took a coach, and drove to the Pont Neuf. He then looked +cautiously down the Rue Dauphine to reconnoiter, and he saw two men, who +seemed also looking anxiously down the street. He thought they were +police spies, but that was nothing uncommon in that part of the town; +so, bending his back, and walking lamely, for disguise, he went on till +he nearly reached his house. Suddenly he thought he saw the coat of a +gendarme in the courtyard; then he saw one at the window of Oliva's +room. He felt ready to drop, but he thought his best plan was to walk +quietly on; he had that courage, and passed the house. Heavens! what a +sight! the yard was full of soldiers, and among them a police +commissioner. Beausire's rapid glance showed him what he thought +disappointed faces. He thought that M. de Crosne had somehow begun to +suspect him, and, sending to take him, had found only Oliva. + +"I cannot help her now," thought he; "I should only lose my money and +destroy us both. No, let me place that in safety, and then I will see +what can be done." He therefore ran off again, taking his way almost +mechanically towards the Luxembourg; but as he turned the corner of the +Rue St. Germain, he was almost knocked down by a handsome carriage which +was driving towards the Rue Dauphine, and, raising his head to swear at +the coachman, he thought he saw Oliva inside, talking with much +animation to a handsome man who sat by her. He gave a cry of surprise, +and would have run after it, but he could not again encounter the Rue +Dauphine. He felt bewildered, for he had before settled that Oliva had +been arrested in her own house, and he fancied his brain must be turning +when he believed he saw her in the carriage. But he started off again +and took refuge in a small cabaret at the Luxembourg, where the hostess +was an old friend. There he gradually began to recover again his courage +and hope. He thought the police would not find him, and that his money +was safe. He remembered also that Oliva had committed no crime, and that +the time was passed when people were kept prisoners for nothing. He also +thought that his money would soon obtain her release, even if she were +sent to prison, and he would then set off with her for Switzerland. Such +were his dreams and projects as he sat sipping his wine. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV. + +OLIVA BEGINS TO ASK WHAT THEY WANT OF HER. + + +If M. Beausire had trusted to his eyesight, which was excellent, instead +of trusting his imagination, he would have spared himself much regret +and many mistakes. It was, in fact, Oliva who sat in the carriage by the +side of a man, whom he would also have recognized if he had looked a +little longer. She had gone that morning, as usual, to take a walk in +the gardens of the Luxembourg, where she had met the strange friend +whose acquaintance she had made the day of the ball at the Opera. + +It was just as she was about to return that he appeared before her, and +said, "Where are you going?" + +"Home, monsieur." + +"Just what the people want who are there waiting for you." + +"Waiting for me? No one is there for me." + +"Oh, yes, a dozen visitors at least." + +"A whole regiment, perhaps?" said Oliva, laughing. + +"Perhaps, had it been possible to send a whole regiment, they would have +done so." + +"You astonish me!" + +"You would be far more astonished if I let you go." + +"Why?" + +"Because you would be arrested." + +"I! arrested?" + +"Assuredly. The twelve gentlemen who wait for you are sent by M. de +Crosne." + +Oliva trembled. Some people are always fearful on certain points. But +she said: + +"I have done nothing; why should they arrest me?" + +"For some intrigue, perhaps." + +"I have none." + +"But you have had." + +"Oh, perhaps." + +"Well, perhaps they are wrong to wish to arrest you, but the fact is +that they do desire to do so. Will you still go home?" + +"You deceive me," said Oliva; "if you know anything, tell me at once. Is +it not Beausire they want?" + +"Perhaps; he may have a conscience less clear than yours." + +"Poor fellow!" + +"Pity him, if you like; but if he is taken, there is no need for you to +be taken too." + +"What interest have you in protecting me?" asked she. "It is not natural +for a man like you." + +"I would not lose time if I were you; they are very likely to seek you +here, finding you do not return." + +"How should they know I am here?" + +"Are you not always here? My carriage is close by, if you will come with +me. But I see you doubt still." + +"Yes." + +"Well, we will commit an imprudence to convince you. We will drive past +your house, and when you have seen these gentlemen there, I think you +will better appreciate my good offices." + +He led her to the carriage, and drove to the Rue Dauphine, at the corner +of which they passed Beausire. Had Oliva seen him, doubtless she would +have abandoned everything to fly with him and share his fate, whatever +it might be; but Cagliostro, who did see him, took care to engage her +attention by showing her the crowd, which was already in sight, and +which was waiting to see what the police would do. + +When Oliva could distinguish the soldiers who filled her house, she +threw herself into the arms of her protector in despair. "Save me! save +me!" she cried. + +He pressed her hand. "I promise you." + +"But they will find me out anywhere." + +"Not where I shall take you; they will not seek you at my house." + +"Oh!" cried she, frightened, "am I to go home with you?" + +"You are foolish," said he; "I am not your lover, and do not wish to +become so. If you prefer a prison, you are free to choose." + +"No," replied she, "I trust myself to you, take me where you please." + +He conducted her to the Rue Neuve St. Gilles, into a small room on the +second floor. + +"How triste!" said she; "here, without liberty, and without even a +garden to walk in." + +"You are right," said he; "besides, my people would see you here at +last." + +"And would betray me, perhaps." + +"No fear of that. But I will look out for another abode for you; I do +not mean you to remain here." + +Oliva was consoled; besides, she found amusing books and easy-chairs. + +He left her, saying, "If you want me, ring; I will come directly if I am +at home." + +"Ah!" cried she, "get me some news of Beausire." + +"Before everything." Then, as he went down, he said to himself, "It will +be a profanation to lodge her in that house in the Rue St. Claude; but +it is important that no one should see her, and there no one will. So I +will extinguish the last spark of my old light." + + + + +CHAPTER XLV. + +THE DESERTED HOUSE. + + +When Cagliostro arrived at the deserted house in the Rue St. Claude, +with which our readers are already acquainted, it was getting dark, and +but few people were to be seen in the streets. + +Cagliostro drew a key from his pocket, and applied it to the lock; but +the door was swollen with the damp, and stiff with age, and it required +all his strength to open it. The courtyard was overgrown with moss, the +steps crumbling away; all looked desolate and deserted. He entered the +hall, and lighted a lamp which he had brought with him. He felt a +strange agitation as he approached the door which he had so often +entered to visit Lorenza. A slight noise made his heart beat quickly; he +turned, and saw an adder gliding down the staircase; it disappeared in a +hole near the bottom. + +He entered the room; it was empty, but in the grate still lay some +ashes, the remains of the furniture which had adorned it, and which he +had burned there. Among it several pieces of gold and silver still +sparkled. As he turned, he saw something glittering on the floor; he +picked it up. It was one of those silver arrows with which the Italian +women were in the habit of confining their hair. He pressed it to his +lips, and a tear stood in his eyes as he murmured, "Lorenza!" It was but +for a moment; then he opened the window and threw it out, saying to +himself, "Adieu! this last souvenir, which would soften me. This house +is about to be profaned--another woman will ascend the staircase, and +perhaps even into this room, where Lorenza's last sigh still vibrates; +but to serve my end the sacrifice shall be made. I must, however, have +some alterations made." + +He then wrote on his tablets the following words: "To M. Lenoir, my +architect,--Clean out the court and vestibule, restore the coach-house +and stable, and demolish the interior of the pavilion. To be done in +eight days." + +"Now, let us see," said he to himself, "if we can perfectly distinguish +the window of the countess. It is infallible," said he, after looking +out; "the women must see each other." + +The next day fifty workmen had invaded the house and commenced the +projected alterations, which were completed within the given time. Some +of the passers-by saw a large rat hung up by the tail. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVI. + +JEANNE THE PROTECTRESS. + + +M. le Cardinal de Rohan received, two days after his visit to M. +Boehmer, the following note: + + "His Eminence the Cardinal de Rohan knows, doubtless, where he will + sup this evening." + +"From the little countess," said he; "I will go." + +Among the footmen given to her by the cardinal, Jeanne had distinguished +one, black-haired and dark-eyed, and, as she thought, active and +intelligent. She set this man to watch the cardinal, and learned from +him that he had been twice to M. Boehmer's. Therefore she concluded +the necklace was bought, and yet he had not communicated it to her. She +frowned at the thought, and wrote the note which we have seen. + +M. de Rohan sent before him a basket of Tokay and other rarities, just +as if he was going to sup with La Guimard or Mademoiselle Dangeville. +Jeanne determined not to use any of it at supper. + +"When they were alone, she said to him: + +"Really, monseigneur, one thing afflicts me." + +"What, countess?" + +"To see, not only that you no longer love me, but that you never have +loved me." + +"Oh, countess! how can you say so?" + +"Do not make excuses, monseigneur; it would be lost time." + +"Oh, countess!" + +"Do not be uneasy; I am quite indifferent about it now." + +"Whether I love you or not?" + +"Yes, because I do not love you." + +"That is not flattering." + +"Indeed, we are not exchanging compliments, but facts. We have never +loved each other." + +"Oh, as for myself, I cannot allow that; I have a great affection for +you, countess." + +"Come, monseigneur, let us esteem each other enough to speak the truth, +and that is, that there is between us a much stronger bond than +love--that is, interest." + +"Oh, countess, what a shame!" + +"Monseigneur, if you are ashamed, I am not." + +"Well, countess, supposing ourselves interested, how can we serve each +other?" + +"First, monseigneur, I wish to ask you a question. Why have you failed +in confidence towards me?" + +"I! How so, pray?" + +"Will you deny that, after skilfully drawing from me the details--which, +I confess, I was not unwilling to give you--concerning the desire of a +certain great lady for a certain thing, you have taken means to gratify +that desire without telling me?" + +"Countess, you are a real enigma, a sphinx." + +"Oh, no enigma, cardinal; I speak of the queen, and of the diamonds +which you bought yesterday of MM. Boehmer and Bossange." + +"Countess!" cried he, growing pale. + +"Oh, do not look so frightened," continued she. "Did you not conclude +your bargain yesterday?" + +He did not speak, but looked uncomfortable, and half angry. She took his +hand. + +"Pardon, prince," she said, "but I wished to show you your mistake about +me; you believe me foolish and spiteful." + +"Oh, countess, now I understand you perfectly. I expected to find you a +pretty woman and a clever one, but you are better than this. Listen to +me: you have, you say, been willing to become my friend without loving +me?" + +"I repeat it," replied she. + +"Then you had some object?" + +"Assuredly. Do you wish me to tell it to you?" + +"No; I understand it. You wished to make my fortune; that once done, you +are sure that my first care would be for yours. Am I right?" + +"Yes, monseigneur; but I have not pursued my plans with any +repugnance--the road has been a pleasant one." + +"You are an amiable woman, countess, and it is a pleasure to discuss +business with you. You have guessed rightly that I have a respectful +attachment towards a certain person." + +"I saw it at the Opera ball," she said. + +"I know well that this affection will never be returned." + +"Oh, a queen is only a woman, and you are surely equal to Cardinal +Mazarin." + +"He was a very handsome man," said M. de Rohan, laughing. + +"And an excellent minister," said Jeanne. + +"Countess, it is superfluous trouble to talk to you; you guess and know +everything. Yes, I do wish to become prime minister. Everything entitles +me to it--my birth, my knowledge of business, my standing with foreign +courts, and the affection which is felt for me by the French people." + +"There is but one obstacle," said Jeanne. + +"An antipathy." + +"Yes, of the queen's; and the king always ends by liking what she likes, +and hating what she hates." + +"And she hates me? Be frank, countess." + +"Well, monseigneur, she does not love you." + +"Then I am lost! Of what use is the necklace?" + +"You deceive yourself, prince." + +"It is bought." + +"At least, it will show the queen that you love her. You know, +monseigneur, we have agreed to call things by their right names." + +"Then you say you do not despair of seeing me one day prime minister?" + +"I am sure of it." + +"And what are your own ambitions?" + +"I will tell you, prince, when you are in a position to satisfy them." + +"We will hope for that day." + +"Now let us sup." + +"I am not hungry." + +"Then let us talk." + +"I have nothing more to say." + +"Then go." + +"How! is that what you call our alliance? Do you send me away?" + +"Yes, monseigneur." + +"Well, countess, I will not deceive myself again about you." Before +leaving, however, he turned, and said, "What must I do now, countess?" + +"Nothing; wait for me to act. I will go to Versailles." + +"When?" + +"To-morrow." + +"And when shall I hear from you?" + +"Immediately." + +"Then I abandon myself to your protection; au revoir, countess." + + + + +CHAPTER XLVII. + +JEANNE PROTECTED. + + +Mistress of such a secret, rich in such a future, and supported by such +a friend, Jeanne felt herself strong against the world. To appear at +court, no longer as a suppliant, as the poor mendicant, drawn from +poverty by Madame de Boulainvilliers, but as a Valois, with an income of +100,000 francs; to be called the favorite of the queen, and consequently +governing the king and state through her.--Such was the panorama that +floated before the eyes of Jeanne. + +She went to Versailles. She had no audience promised, but she trusted to +her good fortune, and as the queen had received her so well before, all +the officials were anxious to serve her. Therefore, one of the +doorkeepers said aloud, as the queen came from chapel, to one of her +gentlemen, "Monsieur, what am I to do? Here is Madame la Comtesse de la +Motte Valois asking admission, and she has no letter of audience." + +The queen heard and turned round. "Did you say Madame de la Motte Valois +was here?" she asked. + +"Your majesty, the doorkeeper says so." + +"I will receive her; bring her to the bath-room." + +The man told Jeanne what he had done. She drew out her purse; but he +said, "Will Madame la Comtesse allow this debt to accumulate? Some day +she can pay me with interest." + +"You are right, my friend; I thank you." + +Marie Antoinette looked serious when Jeanne entered. + +"She supposes I am come again to beg," thought Jeanne. + +"Madame," said the queen, "I have not yet had an opportunity to speak to +the king." + +"Oh, your majesty has already done too much for me; I ask nothing more. +I came----" she hesitated. + +"Is it something urgent, that you did not wait to ask for an audience?" + +"Urgent! Yes, madame; but not for myself." + +"For me, then?" and the queen conducted her into the bath-room, where +her women were waiting for her. Once in the bath, she sent them away. + +"Now, countess." + +"Madame," said Jeanne, "I am much embarrassed." + +"Why so?" + +"Your majesty knows the kindness I have received from M. de Rohan." + +The queen frowned. "Well, madame?" + +"Yesterday his eminence came to see me, and spoke to me as usual of your +majesty's goodness and kindness." + +"What does he want?" + +"I expressed to him all my sense of your generosity, which constantly +empties your purse, and told him that I felt almost guilty in thinking +of your majesty's gift to myself, and remembering that were it not for +such liberality your majesty need not have been forced to deny yourself +the beautiful necklace which became you so well. When I related this +circumstance to M. de Rohan, I saw him grow pale and the tears came into +his eyes. Indeed, madame, his fine face, full of admiration for, and +emotion caused by, your noble conduct, is ever before my eyes." + +"Well, countess, if he has impressed you so deeply, I advise you not to +let him see it. M. de Rohan is a worldly prelate, and gathers the sheep +as much for himself as for his Lord." + +"Oh, madame!" + +"It is not I who say it: that is his reputation; he almost glories in +it; his trophies are numerous, and some of them have made no little +scandal." + +"Well, madame, I am sure he thought then of no one but your majesty." + +The queen laughed. + +"Your majesty's modesty will not allow you to listen to praises." + +"Not from the cardinal--I suspect them all." + +"It is not my part," replied Jeanne, respectfully, "to defend any one +who has incurred your majesty's displeasure." + +"M. de Rohan has offended me, but I am a queen and a Christian, and do +not wish to dwell on offenses." + +Jeanne was silent. + +"You think differently to me on this subject?" + +"Completely, your majesty." + +"You would not speak so if you knew what he has done against me; but as +you have so great a friendship for him, I will not attack him again +before you. You have not, then, forgotten the diamonds?" + +"Oh, madame, I have thought of them night and day. They will look so +well on your majesty." + +"What do you mean? They are sold to the Portuguese ambassador." + +Jeanne shook her head. + +"Not sold!" cried the queen. + +"Yes, madame, but to M. de Rohan." + +"Oh," said the queen, becoming suddenly cold again. + +"Oh! your majesty," cried Jeanne; "do not be ungenerous towards him. It +was the impulse of a generous heart that your majesty should understand +and sympathize with. When he heard my account he cried,--'What! the +queen refuse herself such a thing, and perhaps see it one day worn by +one of her subjects!' And when I told him that it was bought for the +Queen of Portugal, he was more indignant than ever. He cried, 'It is no +longer a simple question of pleasure for the queen, but of the dignity +of the French crown. I know the spirit of foreign courts; they will +laugh at our queen because they happen to have more money to spare: and +I will never suffer this.' And he left me abruptly. An hour after I +heard that he had bought the necklace." + +"For 1,500,000 francs?" + +"1,600,000, madame." + +"With what intention?" + +"That at least if your majesty would not have them no one else should." + +"Are you sure it is not for some mistress?" + +"I am sure he would rather break it to pieces than see it on any other +neck than your own." + +Marie Antoinette reflected, and her expressive countenance showed +clearly every thought that passed through her mind. At last she said: + +"What M. de Rohan has done is a noble trait of a delicate devotion, and +you will thank him for me." + +"Oh yes, madame." + +"You will add, that he has proved to me his friendship, and that I +accept it, but not his gift." + +"But, madame----" + +"No, but as a loan. He has advanced his money and his credit to please +me, and I will repay him. Boehmer has asked for money down?" + +"Yes, madame." + +"How much?" + +"100,000 francs." + +"That is my quarter's allowance from the king. I received it this +morning; it is in advance, but still I have it." She rang the bell. Her +woman came and wrapped her in warm sheets, and then she dressed herself. +Once more alone in her bedroom with Jeanne, she said: + +"Open that drawer, and you will see a portfolio." + +"Here it is, madame." + +"It holds the 100,000 francs--count them." + +Jeanne obeyed. + +"Take them to the cardinal with my thanks; each quarter I will pay the +same. In this manner I shall have the necklace which pleased me so much, +and if it embarrasses me to pay it, at least it will not hurt the king; +and I shall have gained the knowledge that I have a friend who has +guessed my wishes." Then, after a pause, "You will add, countess, that +M. de Rohan will be welcome at Versailles to receive my thanks." + +Jeanne went away full of joy and delight. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVIII. + +THE QUEEN'S PORTFOLIO. + + +The cardinal was at home when Madame de la Motte came to his hotel. She +had herself announced, and was immediately admitted. + +"You come from Versailles?" said he. + +"Yes." + +"Well?" + +"Well, monseigneur, what do you expect?" + +"Ah, countess, you say that with an air that frightens me." + +"You wished me to see the queen, and I have seen her; and that I should +speak to her of you whom she has always so much disliked." + +"And you did?" + +"Yes, and her majesty listened." + +"Say no more, countess, I see she will not overcome her repugnance." + +"Oh! as to that, I spoke of the necklace." + +"And did you dare to say that I wished----" + +"To buy it for her? Yes." + +"Oh, countess, you are sublime; and she listened?" + +"Yes, but she refused." + +"Oh, I am lost." + +"Refused to accept it as a gift, but not as a loan." + +"I lend to the queen! countess, it is impossible." + +"It is more than giving, is it not?" + +"A thousand times." + +"So I thought." + +The cardinal rose and came towards her. "Do not deceive me," he said. + +"One does not play with the affections of a man like you, monseigneur." + +"Then it is true?" + +"The exact truth." + +"I have a secret with the queen!" and he pressed Jeanne's hand. + +"I like that clasp of the hand," she said, "it is like one man to +another." + +"It is that of a happy man to a protecting angel." + +"Monseigneur, do not exaggerate." + +"Oh, my joy! my gratitude! impossible." + +"But lending a million and a half to the queen is not all you wish for? +Buckingham would have asked for more." + +"Buckingham believed what I dare not even dream of." + +"The queen sends you word that she will see you with pleasure at +Versailles." + +The cardinal looked as pale as a youth who gives his first kiss of love. + +"Ah," thought she, "it is still more serious than I imagined. I can get +what I please from him, for he acts really not from ambition but from +love." + +He quickly recovered himself, however: "My friend," said he, "how does +the queen mean to act about this loan she talks of?" + +"Ah, you think she has no money. But she will pay you as she would have +paid Boehmer. Only if she had paid him all Paris must have known it, +which she would not have liked, after the credit she has had for her +refusal of it. You are a cashier for her, and a solvent one if she +becomes embarrassed. She is happy and she pays. Ask no more." + +"She pays?" + +"Yes, she knows you have debts; and when I told her you had advanced +100,000 francs----" + +"You told her?" + +"Yes; why not?" Jeanne put her hand in her pocket, and drew out the +portfolio. "The queen sends you this with thanks; it is all right, for I +have counted it." + +"Who cares for that? But the portfolio?" + +"Well, it is not handsome." + +"It pleases me, nevertheless." + +"You have good taste." + +"Ah, you quiz me." + +"You have the same taste as the queen, at all events." + +"Then it was hers?" + +"Do you wish for it?" + +"I cannot deprive you of it." + +"Take it." + +"Oh, countess, you are a precious friend; but while you have worked for +me, I have not forgotten you." + +Jeanne looked surprised. + +"Yes," said he, "my banker came to propose to me some plan of a marsh to +drain, which must be profitable. I took two hundred shares, and fifty of +them are for you." + +"Oh, monseigneur!" + +"He soon returned, he had realized already on them cent. per cent. He +gave me 100,000 francs, and here is your share, dear countess;" and from +the pocket-book she had just given him he slid 25,000 francs into her +hand. + +"Thanks, monseigneur. What gratifies me most is, that you thought of +me." + +"I shall ever do so," said he, kissing her hand. + +"And I of you, at Versailles." + + + + +CHAPTER XLIX. + +IN WHICH WE FIND DR. LOUIS. + + +Perhaps our readers, remembering in what a position we left M. de +Charny, will not dislike to return with us to that little ante-chamber at +Versailles into which this brave seaman, who feared neither men nor +elements, had fled, lest he should show his weakness to the queen. Once +arrived there, he felt it impossible to go further; he stretched out his +arms, and was only saved from falling to the ground by the aid of those +around. He then fainted, and was totally ignorant that the queen had +seen him, and would have run to his assistance had Andrée not prevented +her, more even from a feeling of jealousy than from regard for +appearances. Immediately after the king entered, and seeing a man lying +supported by two guards, who, unaccustomed to see men faint, scarcely +knew what to do, advanced, saying, "Some one is ill here." + +At his voice the men started and let their burden fall. + +"Oh!" cried the king, "it is M. de Charny. Place him on this couch, +gentlemen." Then they brought him restoratives, and sent for a doctor. + +The king waited to hear the result. The doctor's first care was to open +the waistcoat and shirt of the young man to give him air, and then he +saw the wound. + +"A wound!" cried the king. + +"Yes," said M. de Charny, faintly, "an old wound, which has reopened;" +and he pressed the hand of the doctor to make him understand. + +But this was not a court doctor, who understands everything; so, +willing to show his knowledge, "Old, sir! this wound is not twenty-four +hours old." + +Charny raised himself at this, and said, "Do you teach me, sir, when I +received my wound?" Then, turning round, he cried, "The king!" and +hastened to button his waistcoat. + +"Yes, M. de Charny, who fortunately arrived in time to procure you +assistance." + +"A mere scratch, sire," stammered Charny, "an old wound." + +"Old or new," replied Louis, "it has shown me the blood of a brave man." + +"Whom a couple of hours in bed will quite restore," continued Charny, +trying to rise; but his strength failed him, his head swam, and he sank +back again. + +"He is very ill," said the king. + +"Yes, sire," said the doctor, with importance, "but I can cure him." + +The king understood well that M. de Charny wished to hide some secret +from him, and determined to respect it. "I do not wish," said he, "that +M. de Charny should run the risk of being moved; we will take care of +him here. Let M. de Suffren be called, this gentleman recompensed, and +my own physician, Dr. Louis, be sent for." + +While one officer went to execute these orders, two others carried +Charny into a room at the end of the gallery. Dr. Louis and M. de +Suffren soon arrived. The latter understood nothing of his nephew's +illness. "It is strange," said he; "do you know, doctor, I never knew my +nephew ill before." + +"That proves nothing," replied the doctor. + +"The air of Versailles must be bad for him." + +"It is his wound," said one of the officers. + +"His wound!" cried M. de Suffren; "he never was wounded in his life." + +"Oh, excuse me," said the officer, opening the shirt, covered with +blood, "but I thought----" + +"Well," said the doctor, who began to see the state of the case, "do +not let us lose time disputing over the cause, but see what can be done +to cure him." + +"Is it dangerous, doctor?" asked M. de Suffren, with anxiety. + +"Not at all," replied he. + +M. de Suffren took his leave, and left Charny with the doctor. Fever +commenced, and before long he was delirious. Three hours after the +doctor called a servant, and told him to take Charny in his arms, who +uttered doleful cries. "Roll the sheet over his head," said the doctor. + +"But," said the man, "he struggles so much that I must ask assistance +from one of the guards." + +"Are you afraid of a sick man, sir? If he is too heavy for you, you are +not strong enough for me. I must send you back to Auvergne." This threat +had its effect. Charny, crying, fighting, and gesticulating, was carried +by the man through the guards. + +Some of the officers questioned the doctor. + +"Oh! gentlemen," said he, "this gallery is too far off for me; I must +have him in my own rooms." + +"But I assure you, doctor, we would all have looked after him here. We +all love M. de Suffren." + +"Oh yes, I know your sort of care! The sick man is thirsty, and you give +him something to drink, and kill him." + +"Now there remains but one danger," said the doctor to himself, as he +followed Charny, "that the king should want to visit him, and if he hear +him---- Diable! I must speak to the queen." The good doctor, therefore, +having bathed the head and face of his patient with cold water, and seen +him safe in bed, went out and locked the door on him, leaving his +servant to look after him. He went towards the queen's apartments, and +met Madame de Misery, who had just been despatched to ask after the +patient. + +"Come with me," he said. + +"But, doctor, the queen waits for intelligence." + +"I am going to her." + +"The queen wishes----" + +"The queen shall know all she wishes. I will take care of that." + + + + +CHAPTER L. + +ÆGRI SOMNIA + + +The queen was expecting the return of Madame de Misery. The doctor +entered with his accustomed familiarity. "Madame," he said, "the patient +in whom your majesty and the king are interested is as well as any one +can be who has a fever." + +"Is it a slight wound?" asked the queen. + +"Slight or not, he is in a fever." + +"Poor fellow!--a bad fever?" + +"Terrible!" + +"You frighten me; dear doctor; you, who are generally so cheering. +Besides, you look about you, as though you had a secret to tell." + +"So I have." + +"About the fever?" + +"Yes." + +"To tell me?" + +"Yes." + +"Speak, then, for I am curious." + +"I wait for you to question me, madame." + +"Well, how does the fever go on?" + +"No; ask me why I have taken him away from the guard's gallery, where +the king left him, to my own room." + +"Well, I ask. Indeed it is strange." + +"Then, madame, I did so, because it is not an ordinary fever." + +The queen looked surprised. "What do you mean?" + +"M. de Charny is delirious already, and in his delirium he says a number +of things rather delicate for the gentlemen of the guard to hear." + +"Doctor!" + +"Oh, madame! you should not question me, if you do not wish to hear my +answers." + +"Well, then, dear doctor, is he an atheist? Does he blaspheme?" + +"Oh, no! he is on the contrary a devotee." + +The queen assumed a look of sang-froid. "M. de Charny," she said, +"interests me. He is the nephew of M. de Suffren, and has besides +rendered me personal services. I wish to be a friend to him. Tell me, +therefore, the exact truth." + +"But I cannot tell you, madame. If your majesty wishes to know, the only +way is to hear him yourself." + +"But if he says such strange things?" + +"Things which your majesty ought to hear." + +"But," said the queen, "I cannot move a step here, without some +charitable spy watching me." + +"I will answer for your security. Come through my private way, and I +will lock the door after us." + +"I trust to you, then, dear doctor." And she followed him, burning with +curiosity. + +When they reached the second door the doctor put his ear to the keyhole. + +"Is your patient in there, doctor?" + +"No, madame, or you would have heard him at the end of the corridor. +Even here you can hear his voice." + +"He groans." + +"No, he speaks loud and distinct." + +"But I cannot go in to him." + +"I do not mean you to do so. I only wish you to listen in the adjoining +room, where you will hear without being seen." They went on, and the +doctor entered the sick-room alone. + +Charny, still dressed in his uniform, was making fruitless efforts to +rise, and was repeating to himself his interview with the German lady in +the coach. "German!" he cried--"German! Queen of France!" + +"Do you hear, madame?" + +"It is frightful," continued Charny, "to love an angel, a woman--to love +her madly--to be willing to give your life for her; and when you come +near her, to find her only a queen--of velvet and of gold, of metal and +of silk, and no heart." + +"Oh! oh!" cried the doctor again. + +"I love a married woman!" Charny went on, "and with that wild love +which, makes me forget everything else. Well, I will say to her, there +remain for us still some happy days on this earth. Come, my beloved, and +we will live the life of the blessed, if we love each other. Afterwards +there will be death--better than a life like this. Let us love at +least." + +"Not badly reasoned for a man in a fever," said the doctor. + +"But her children!" cried Charny suddenly, with fury; "she will not +leave her children. Oh! we will carry them away also. Surely I can carry +her, she is so light, and her children too." Then he gave a terrible +cry: "But they are the children of a king!" + +The doctor left his patient and approached the queen. + +"You are right, doctor," said she; "this young man would incur a +terrible danger if he were overheard." + +"Listen again," said the doctor. + +"Oh, no more." + +But just then Charny said, in a gentler voice: + +"Marie, I feel that you love me, but I will say nothing about it. Marie, +I felt the touch of your foot in the coach; your hand touched mine, but +I will never tell; I will keep this secret with my life. My blood may +all flow away, Marie, but my secret shall not escape with it. My enemy +steeped his sword in my blood, but if he has guessed my secret, yours is +safe. Fear nothing, Marie, I do not even ask you if you love me; you +blushed, that is enough." + +"Oh!" thought the doctor; "this sounds less like delirium than like +memory." + +"I have heard enough," cried the queen, rising and trembling violently; +and she tried to go. + +The doctor stopped her. "Madame," said he, "what do you wish?" + +"Nothing, doctor, nothing." + +"But if the king ask to see my patient?" + +"Oh! that would be dreadful!" + +"What shall I say?" + +"Doctor, I cannot think; this dreadful spectacle has confused me." + +"I think you have caught his fever," said the doctor, feeling her pulse. + +She drew away her hand, and escaped. + + + + +CHAPTER LI. + +ANDRÉE. + + +The doctor remained thoughtful, then said to himself,--"There are other +difficulties here besides those I can contend with by science." He +bathed again the temples of his patient, who for the time began to grow +calmer. + +All at once the doctor heard the rustling of a dress outside. "Can it be +the queen returned?" thought he; and opening the door softly, he saw +before him the motionless figure of a woman, looking like a statue of +despair. It was almost dark; he advanced suddenly along the corridor to +the place where the figure was standing. On seeing him, she uttered a +cry. + +"Who is there?" asked Doctor Louis. + +"I, doctor!" replied a sweet and sorrowful voice--a voice that he knew +but could not immediately recognize. "I, Andrée de Taverney," continued +she. + +"Oh, mon Dieu! what is the matter?" cried the doctor; "is she ill?" + +"She! who?" + +The doctor felt that he had committed an imprudence. + +"Excuse me, but I saw a lady going away just now, perhaps it was you." + +"Oh, yes, there has been a lady here before me, has there not?" asked +Andrée, in a tone of emotion. + +"My dear child," replied the doctor, "of whom do you speak? what do you +want to know?" + +"Doctor," answered Andrée, in a sorrowful voice, "you always speak the +truth, do not deceive me now; I am sure there was a woman here before +me." + +"Doubtless. Why should I deceive you? Madame de Misery was here." + +"It was Madame de Misery who came?" + +"Certainly; what makes you doubt? What inexplicable beings women are." + +"Dear doctor." + +"Well, but to the point. Is she worse?" + +"Who?" + +"Pardieu, the queen." + +"The queen!" + +"Yes, the queen, for whom Madame de Misery came to fetch me, and who was +troubled with her palpitations. If you come from her, tell me, and we +will go back together." + +"No, doctor, I do not come from the queen, and was even ignorant that +she was suffering. But pardon me, doctor, I scarcely know what I an +saying." In fact, she seemed on the point of fainting. + +The doctor supported her. She rallied by a strong effort. "Doctor," she +said, "you know I am nervous in the dark; I lost my way in these +intricate passages, and have grown frightened and foolish." + +"And why the devil should you be wandering about these dark passages, +since you came for nothing?" + +"I did not say I came for nothing, only that no one sent me." + +"Well, if you have anything to say to me, come away from here, for I am +tired of standing." + +"Oh, I shall not be ten minutes; can any one hear us?" + +"No one." + +"Not even your patient in there?" + +"Oh, no fear of his hearing anything." + +Andrée clasped her hands. "Oh, mon Dieu!" she cried, "he is, then, very +ill?" + +"Indeed he is not well. But tell me quickly what brings you here, for I +cannot wait." + +"Well, doctor, we have spoken of it; I came to ask after him." + +Doctor Louis received this confession with a solemn silence, which +Andrée took for a reproach. + +"You may excuse this step, doctor," she said, "as he was wounded in a +duel with my brother." + +"Your brother! I was ignorant of that." + +"But now that you know it, you understand why I inquire after him." + +"Oh, certainly, my child," said the good doctor, enchanted to find an +excuse for being indulgent; "I could not know this." + +"A duel between two gentlemen is a thing of everyday occurrence, +doctor." + +"Certainly; the only thing that could make it of importance would be +that they have fought about a lady!" + +"About a lady!" + +"About yourself, for example." + +Andrée sighed. + +"Oh, doctor! they did not fight about me." + +"Then," said the doctor, "is it your brother that has sent you for news +of M. de Charny?" + +"Oh, yes, my brother, doctor." + +Dr. Louis looked at her scrutinizingly. + +"I will find out the truth," thought he. Then he said, "Well, I will +tell you the truth, that your brother may make his arrangements +accordingly; you understand." + +"No, doctor." + +"Why, a duel is never a very agreeable thing to the king, and if it +makes a scandal, he often banishes or imprisons the actors; but when +death ensues, he is always inflexible. Therefore counsel your brother to +hide for a time." + +"Then," cried Andrée, "M. de Charny is--dangerously ill?" + +"My dear young lady, if he is not out of danger by this time to-morrow, +if before that time I cannot quell the fever that devours him, M. de +Charny is a dead man." + +Andrée bit her lips till the blood came, and clenched her hands till +the nails stuck into the flesh, to stifle the cry that was ready to +burst from her. Having conquered herself, she said, "My brother will not +fly; he wounded M. de Charny in fair fight, and if he has killed him, he +will take his chance." + +The doctor was deceived. She did not come on her own account, he +thought. + +"How does the queen take it?" he asked. + +"The queen? I know not. What is it to her?" + +"But she likes your brother." + +"Well, he is safe; and perhaps she will defend him if he is accused." + +"Then, mademoiselle, you have learned what you wished. Let your brother +fly, or not, as he pleases; that is your affair. Mine is to do the best +to-night for the wounded man; without which, death will infallibly carry +him off. Adieu." + +Andrée fled back to her room, locked herself in, and falling on her +knees by the side of her bed, "My God!" cried she, with a torrent of +burning tears, "you will not leave this young man to die who has done no +wrong, and who is so loved in this world. Oh! save him, that I may see a +God of mercy, and not of vengeance." Her strength gave way, and she fell +senseless on the floor. When her senses returned to her, her first +muttered words were, "I love him! oh, I love him!" + + + + +CHAPTER LII. + +DELIRIUM. + + +M. De Charny conquered the fever. The next day the report was favorable. +Once out of danger, Doctor Louis ceased to take so much interest in him; +and after the lapse of a week, as he had not forgotten all that had +passed in his delirium, he wished to have him removed from Versailles: +but Charny, at the first hint of this, rebelled, and said angrily, +"that his majesty had given him shelter there, and that no one had a +right to disturb him." + +The doctor, who was not patient with intractable convalescents, ordered +four men to come in and move him; but Charny caught hold of his bed with +one hand, and struck furiously with the other at every one who +approached; and with the effort, the wound reopened, the fever returned, +and he began to cry out that the doctor wished to deprive him of the +visions that he had in his sleep, but that it was all in vain; for that +she who sent them to him was of too high rank to mind the doctor. + +Then the doctor, frightened, sent the men away, and dressed the wound +again; but as the delirium returned stronger than ever, he determined to +go once more to the queen. + +Marie Antoinette received him with a smile; she expected to hear that +the patient was cured, but on hearing that he was very ill, she cried: + +"Why, yesterday you said he was going on so well!" + +"It was not true, madame." + +"And why did you deceive me? Is there, then, danger?" + +"Yes, madame, to himself and others; but the evil is moral, not +physical. The wound in itself is nothing; but, madame, M. de Charny is +fast becoming a monomaniac, and this I cannot cure. Madame, you will +have ruined this young man." + +"I, doctor! Am I the cause, if he is mad?" + +"If you are not now, you soon will be." + +"What must I do, then? Command me, doctor." + +"This young man must be cured either with kindness or coercion. The +woman whose name he evokes every instant must kill or cure him." + +"Doctor, you exaggerate. Can you kill a man with a hard word, or cure a +madman with a smile?" + +"If your majesty be incredulous, I have only to pay my respects, and +take leave." + +"No, doctor; tell me what you wish." + +"Madame, if you desire to free this palace from his cries, and from +scandal, you must act." + +"You wish me to come and see him?" + +"Yes." + +"Then I will call some one--Mademoiselle de Taverney, for example--and +you have all ready to receive us. But it is a dreadful responsibility to +run the risk of kill or cure, as you say." + +"It is what I have to do every day. Come, madame, all is ready." + +The queen sighed, and followed the doctor, without waiting for Andrée, +who was not to be found. + +It was eleven o'clock in the morning, and Charny was asleep, after the +troubled night he had gone through. The queen, attired in an elegant +morning dress, entered the corridor. The doctor advised her to present +herself suddenly, determined to produce a crisis, either for good or +ill; but at the door they found a woman standing, who had not time to +assume her usual unmoved tranquillity, but showed an agitated +countenance, and trembled before them. + +"Andrée!" cried the queen. + +"Yes, your majesty; you are here too!" + +"I sent for you, but they could not find you." + +Andrée, anxious to hide her feelings, even at the price of a falsehood, +said, "I heard your majesty had asked for me, and came after you." + +"How did you know I was here?" + +"They said you were gone with Doctor Louis, so I guessed it." + +"Well guessed," replied the queen, who was little suspicious, and forgot +immediately her first surprise. + +She went on, leaving Andrée with the doctor. + +Andrée, seeing her disappear, gave a look full of anger and grief. The +doctor said to her: + +"Do you think she will succeed?" + +"Succeed in what?" + +"In getting this poor fellow removed, who will die here." + +"Will he live elsewhere?" asked Andrée, surprised. + +"I believe so." + +"Oh, then, may she succeed!" + + + + +CHAPTER LIII. + +CONVALESCENCE. + + +The queen walked straight up to where Charny lay, dressed, on a couch. +He raised his head, wakened by her entrance. + +"The queen!" cried he, trying to rise. + +"Yes, sir, the queen," she replied, "who knows how you strive to lose +both reason and life; the queen, whom you offend both dreaming and +waking; the queen, who cares for your honor and your safety, and +therefore comes to you. Is it possible," continued she, "that a +gentleman, formerly renowned like you for his loyalty and honor, should +become such an enemy as you have been to the reputation of a woman? What +will my enemies do, if you set them the example of treason?" + +"Treason!" stammered Charny. + +"Yes, sir. Either you are a madman, and must be forcibly prevented from +doing harm; or you are a traitor, and must be punished." + +"Oh, madame, do not call me a traitor! From the mouth of a king, such an +accusation would precede death; from the mouth of a woman, it is +dishonor. Queen, kill me, or spare me!" + +"Are you in your right mind, M. de Charny?" said the queen, in a moved +voice. + +"Yes, madame." + +"Do you remember your wrongs towards me, and towards the king?" + +"Mon Dieu!" he murmured. + +"For you too easily forget, you gentlemen, that the king is the husband +of the woman whom you insult, by raising your eyes to her--that he is +the father of your future master, the dauphin; you forget, also, that +he is a greater and better man than any of you--a man whom I esteem and +love." + +"Oh!" murmured Charny, with a groan, and seemed ready to faint. + +This cry pierced the queen's heart; she thought he was about to die, and +was going to call for assistance; but, after an instant's reflection, +she went on: "Let us converse quietly, and be a man. Doctor Louis has +vainly tried to cure you; your wound, which was nothing, has been +rendered dangerous through your own extravagances. When will you cease +to present to the good doctor the spectacle of a scandalous folly which +disquiets him? When will you leave the castle?" + +"Madame," replied Charny, "your majesty sends me away; I go, I go!" And +he rose with a violent effort, as though he would have fled that +instant, but, unable to stand, fell almost into the arms of the queen, +who had risen to stop him. + +She replaced him on the sofa; a bloody foam rose to his lips. "Ah, so +much the better!" cried he; "I die, killed by you!" The queen forgot +everything but his danger; she supported his drooping head on her +shoulders, and pressed her cold hands to his forehead and heart. Her +touch seemed to revive him as if by magic--he lived again; then she +wished to fly, but he caught hold of her dress, saying: + +"Madame, in the name of the respect which I feel for you----" + +"Adieu, adieu!" cried the queen. + +"Oh, madame, pardon me!" + +"I do pardon you." + +"Madame, one last look." + +"M. de Charny," said the queen, trembling, "if you are not the basest of +men, to-morrow you will be dead, or have left this castle." + +He threw himself at her feet; she opened the door, and rushed away. + +Andrée saw for an instant the young man on his knees before her, and +felt struck with both hate and despair. She thought, as she saw the +queen return, that God had given too much to this woman in adding to her +throne and her beauty this half-hour with M. de Charny. + +The doctor, occupied only with the success of the negotiation, said, +"Well, madame, what will he do?" + +"He will leave," replied the queen; and, passing them quickly, she +returned to her apartment. + +The doctor went to his patient, and Andrée to her room. + +Doctor Louis found Charny a changed man, declaring himself perfectly +strong, asking the doctor how he should be moved, and when he should be +quite well, with so much energy that the doctor feared it was too much, +and that he must relapse after it. He was, however, so reasonable as to +feel the necessity of explaining this sudden change. "The queen has done +me more good by making me ashamed of myself," he said, "than you, dear +doctor, with all your science. She has vanquished me by an appeal to my +amour propre." + +"So much the better," said the doctor. + +"Yes. I remember that a Spaniard--they are all boasters--told me one +day, to prove the force of his will, that it sufficed for him in a duel +which he had fought, and in which he had been wounded, to will that the +blood should not flow in the presence of his adversary in order to +retain it. I laughed at him. However, I now feel something like it +myself; I think that if my fever and delirium wished to return, I could +chase them away, saying, Fever and delirium, I forbid you to appear!" + +"We know such things are possible," replied the doctor. "Allow me to +congratulate you, for you are cured morally." + +"Oh yes." + +"Well, the physical cure will soon follow. Once sound in mind, you will +be sound in body within a week." + +"Thanks, doctor." + +"And, to begin, you must leave this place." + +"I am ready immediately." + +"Oh, we will not be rash; we will wait till this evening. Where will you +go?" + +"Anywhere--to the end of the world if you like." + +"That is too far for a first journey; we will content ourselves with +Versailles. I have a house there where you shall go to-night." + +Accordingly, that evening the four valets, who had been so rudely +repulsed before, carried him to his carriage. The king had been hunting +all day; Charny felt somewhat uneasy at leaving without apprizing him; +but the doctor promised to make his excuses. + +Andrée, concealed behind her curtains, saw the carriage drive off. + +"If he resumes his desire to die," thought the doctor, "at least it will +not be in my rooms, and under my care." + +Charny arrived safely, however, and the next day the doctor found him so +well, that he told him he thought he would require him no longer. + +He received a visit from his uncle, and from an officer sent by the king +to inquire after him. At the end of a week he could ride slowly on +horseback: then the doctor advised him to go for a time to his estates +in Picardy to regain strength. He accordingly took leave of the king, +charged M. de Suffren with his adieus to the queen, who was ill that +evening, and set off for his château at Boursonnes. + + + + +CHAPTER LIV. + +TWO BLEEDING HEARTS. + + +On the day following the queen's visit to M. de Charny, Madlle. de +Taverney entered the royal bedroom as usual at the hour of the petite +toilette. The queen was just laughing over a note from Madame de la +Motte. Andrée, paler than usual, looked cold and grave: the queen, +however, being occupied, did not notice it, but merely turning her head, +said in her usual friendly tone, "Bon jour, petite." At last, however, +Andrée's silence struck her, and looking up she saw her sad expression +and said, "Mon Dieu! Andrée, what is the matter? Has any misfortune +happened to you?" + +"Yes, madame, a great one." + +"What is it?" + +"I am going to leave your majesty." + +"Leave me!" + +"Yes, madame." + +"Where are you going? and what is the cause of this sudden departure?" + +"Madame, I am not happy in my affections; in my family affections, I +mean," added Andrée, blushing. + +"I do not understand you--you seemed happy yesterday." + +"No, madame," replied Andrée, firmly. "Yesterday was one of the unhappy +days of my life." + +"Explain yourself." + +"It would but fatigue your majesty, and the details are not worthy of +your hearing. Suffice it to say, that I have no satisfaction in my +family--that I have no good to expect in this world. I come, therefore, +to beg your majesty's permission to retire into a convent." + +The queen rose, and although with some effort to her pride, took +Andrée's hand, and said: "What is the meaning of this foolish +resolution? Have you not to-day, like yesterday, a father and a brother? +and were they different yesterday from to-day? Tell me your +difficulties. Am I no longer your protectress and mother?" + +Andrée, trembling, and bowing low, said, "Madame, your kindness +penetrates my heart, but does not shake my resolution. I have resolved +to quit the court. I have need of solitude. Do not force me to give up +the vocation to which I feel called." + +"Since yesterday?" + +"I beg your majesty not to make me speak on this point." + +"Be free, then," said the queen, rather bitterly; "only I have always +shown you sufficient confidence for you to have placed some in me. But +it is useless to question one who will not speak. Keep your secrets, and +I trust you will be happier away than you have been here. Remember one +thing, however, that my friendship does not expire with people's +caprices, and that I shall ever look on you as a friend. Now, go, +Andrée; you are at liberty. But where are you going to?" + +"To the convent of St. Denis, madame." + +"Well, mademoiselle, I consider you guilty towards me of ingratitude and +forgetfulness." + +Andrée, however, left the room and the castle without giving any of +those explanations which the good heart of the queen expected, and +without in any way softening or humbling herself. When she arrived at +home, she found Philippe in the garden--the brother dreamed, while the +sister acted. At the sight of Andrée, whose duties always kept her with +the queen at that hour, he advanced, surprised, and almost frightened, +which was increased when he perceived her gloomy look. + +He questioned her, and she told him that she was about to leave the +service of the queen, and go into a convent. + +He clasped his hands, and cried, "What! you also, sister?" + +"I also! what do you mean?" + +"'Tis a cursed contact for us, that of the Bourbons. You wish to take +religious vows; you, at once the least worldly of women, and the least +fitted for a life of asceticism. What have you to reproach the queen +with?" + +"I have nothing to reproach her with; but you, Philippe, who expected, +and had the right to expect, so much--why did not you remain at court? +You did not remain there three days; I have been there as many years." + +"She is capricious, Andrée." + +"You, as a man, might put up with it. I, a woman, could not, and do not +wish to do so." + +"All this, my sister, does not inform me what quarrel you have had with +her." + +"None, Philippe, I assure you. Had you any when you left her? Oh, she is +ungrateful!" + +"We must pardon her, Andrée; she is a little spoiled by flattery, but +she has a good heart." + +"Witness what she has done for you, Philippe." + +"What has she done?" + +"You have already forgotten. I have a better memory, and with one stroke +pay off your debts and my own." + +"Very dear, it seems to me, Andrée--to renounce the world at your age, +and with your beauty. Take care, dear sister, if you renounce it young, +you will regret it old, and will return to it when the time will be +passed, and you have outlived all your friends." + +"You do not reason thus for yourself, brother. You are so little careful +of your fortunes, that when a hundred others would have acquired titles +and gold, you have only said--she is capricious, she is perfidious, and +a coquette, and I prefer not to serve her. Therefore, you have renounced +the world, though you have not entered into a monastery." + +"You are right, sister; and were it not for our father----" + +"Our father! Ah, Philippe! do not speak of him," replied Andrée, +bitterly. "A father should be a support to his children, or accept their +support. But what does ours do? Could you confide a secret to M. de +Taverney, or do you believe him capable of confiding in you? M. de +Taverney is made to live alone in this world." + +"True, Andrée, but not to die alone." + +"Ah, Philippe! you take me for a daughter without feeling, but you know +I am a fond sister; and to have been a good daughter, required only to +have had a father; but everything seems to conspire to destroy in me +every tender feeling. It never happens in this world that hearts +respond; those whom we choose prefer others." + +Philippe looked at her with astonishment. "What do you mean?" said he. + +"Nothing," replied Andrée, shrinking from a confidence. "I think my +brain is wandering; do not attend to my words." + +"But----" + +Andrée took his hand. "Enough on this subject, my dearest brother. I am +come to beg you to conduct me to the convent of St. Denis; but be easy, +I will take no vows. I can do that at a later period, if I wish. Instead +of going, like most women, to seek forgetfulness, I will go to seek +memory. It seems to me that I have too often forgotten my Creator. He is +the only consolation, as He is really the only afflictor. In approaching +Him more nearly, I shall do more for my happiness than if all the rich +and great in this world had combined to make life pleasant to me." + +"Still, Andrée, I oppose this desperate resolution, for you have not +confided to me the cause of your despair!" + +"Despair!" said she, with a disdainful air. "No, thank God, I am not +despairing; no, a thousand times, no." + +"This excess of disdain shows a state of mind which cannot last. If you +reject the word 'despair,' I must use that of 'pique.'" + +"Pique! do you believe that I am so weak as to yield up my place in the +world through pique? Judge me by yourself, Philippe; if you were to +retire to La Trappe, what would you call the cause of your +determination?" + +"I should call it an incurable grief." + +"Well, Philippe, I adopt your words, for they suit me." + +"Then," he replied, "brother and sister are alike in their lives: happy +together, they have become unhappy at the same time." Then, thinking +further remonstrance useless, he asked, "When do you want to go?" + +"To-morrow, even to-day, if it were possible." + +"I shall be ready whenever you require me." + +Andrée retired to make her preparations. Soon she received this note +from Philippe: + + "You can see our father at five o'clock this evening. You must be + prepared for reproaches, but an adieu is indispensable." + +She answered: + + "At five o'clock I will be with M. de Taverney all ready to start, + and by seven we can be at St. Denis, if you will give me up your + evening." + + + + +CHAPTER LV. + +THE MINISTER OF FINANCE. + + +We have seen that the queen, before receiving Andrée, was smiling over a +note from Madame de la Motte. She was, however, rendered serious by the +interview with Mademoiselle de Taverney. Scarcely had she gone, when +Madame de Misery came to announce M. de Calonne. He was a man of much +intellect, but, foreseeing that disaster was hanging over France, +determined to think only of the present, and enjoy it to the utmost. He +was a courtier, and a popular man. M. de Necker had shown the +impossibility of finding finances, and called for reforms which would +have struck at the estates of the nobility and the revenues of the +clergy; he exposed his designs too openly, and was overwhelmed by a +torrent of opposition; to show the enemy your plan of attack is half to +give them the victory. Calonne, equally alive to the danger, but seeing +no way of escape, gave way to it. He completely carried with him the +king and queen, who implicitly believed in his system, and this is, +perhaps, the only political fault which Louis XVI was guilty of towards +posterity. M. de Calonne was handsome, and had an ingratiating manner; +he knew how to please a queen, and always arrived with a smile on his +face, when others might have worn a frown. + +The queen received him graciously, and said, "Have we any money, M. de +Calonne?" + +"Certainly, madame; we have always money." + +"You are perfectly marvelous," replied she, "an incomparable financier, +for you seem always ready when we want money." + +"How much does your majesty require?" + +"Explain to me first how you manage to find money, when M. Necker +declared that there was none." + +"M. Necker was right, madame; for when I became minister on the 3d of +November, 1783, there were but one thousand and two hundred francs in +the public treasury. Had M. Necker, madame, instead of crying out, +'There is no money,' done as I have done, and borrowed 100,000,000 the +first year, and 125,000,000 the second, and had he been as sure as I am +of a new loan of 80,000,000 for the third, he would have been a true +financier. Every one can say there is no money, but not that there is +plenty." + +"That is what I compliment you on, sir; but how to pay all this?" + +"Oh, madame, be sure we shall pay it," replied he, with a strange smile. + +"Well, I trust to you," said the queen. + +"I have now a project, madame," replied he, bowing, "which will put +20,000,000 into the pockets of the nation, and 7,000,000 or 8,000,000 +into your own." + +"They will be welcome, but where are they to come from?" + +"Your majesty is aware that money is not of the same value in all the +countries of Europe." + +"Certainly. In Spain gold is dearer than in France." + +"Your majesty is perfectly right. Gold in Spain has been for the last +five or six years worth considerably more than in France; it results +that the exporters gain on eight ounces of gold, that they send from +here, about the value of fourteen ounces of silver." + +"That is a great deal." + +"Well, madame, I mean to raise the price of gold one-fifth of this +difference, and where we have now thirty louis we shall then have +thirty-two." + +"It is a brilliant idea!" cried the queen. + +"I believe it, and am happy that it meets your majesty's approbation." + +"Always have such, and I am sure you will soon pay our debts." + +"But allow me, madame, to return to what you want of me," said the +minister. + +"Would it be possible to have at present--I am afraid it is too +much----" + +Calonne smiled in an encouraging manner. + +"500,000 francs?" continued the queen. + +"Oh, madame, really your majesty frightened me; I was afraid it was +something great." + +"Then you can?" + +"Assuredly." + +"Without the king's knowledge?" + +"Oh, madame, that is impossible. Every month all my accounts are laid +before the king; however, he does not always read them." + +"When can I have it?" + +"What day does your majesty wish for it?" + +"On the fifth of next month." + +"Your majesty shall have it on the third." + +"Thanks, M. de Calonne." + +"My greatest happiness is to please your majesty, and I beg you never +will allow yourself to be embarrassed for want of money." He rose, the +queen gave him her hand to kiss, and then said, "After all, this money +causes me some remorse, for it is for a caprice." + +"Never mind; some one will gain by it." + +"That is true; you have a charming mode of consoling one." + +"Oh, madame, if we had none of us more reasons for remorse than you, we +should all go straight to heaven." + +"But it will be cruel to make the poor people pay for my caprices." + +"Have no scruples, madame; it is not the poor who will pay." + +"How so?" asked the queen, in some surprise. + +"Because, madame, they have nothing to pay with." + +He bowed and retired. + + + + +CHAPTER LVI. + +THE CARDINAL DE ROHAN. + + +Hardly had M. de Calonne traversed the gallery, when Madame de la Motte +was shown in to the queen. + +"Madame," said she, "the cardinal is here." She then introduced him, and +took her leave. + +The cardinal, finding himself alone with the queen, bowed respectfully, +without raising his eyes. + +"Monsieur," said the queen, "I have heard of you what has effaced many +wrongs." + +"Permit me, madame," said he, trembling with real emotion, "to assure +your majesty that these wrongs of which you speak I could explain in a +few words." + +"I do not forbid you to justify yourself," replied she, with dignity; +"but if what you are about to say throws the smallest shade upon my +family or country, you will only wound me still more. Let us leave this +subject; and I will only see you under the fresh light, which shows you +to me obliging, respectful, and devoted." + +"Devoted until death," replied he. + +"But," said Marie Antoinette, with a smile, "at present it is a question +not of death, but of ruin; and I do not wish you devoted even so far. +You shall live, and not be ruined, at least, not by me; for they say you +are ruining yourself." + +"Madame!" + +"Oh! that is your own business; only, as a friend, I would counsel you +to be economical--the king would like you better." + +"I would become a miser to please your majesty." + +"Oh, the king," replied she, with an accent on the word, "does not love +misers either." + +"I will become whatever your majesty desires," replied he, with a +hardly-disguised passion. + +"I said, then," continued she, "that you shall not be ruined for me. +You have advanced money on my account, and I have the means of meeting +the calls; therefore, regard the affair for the future as in my hands." + +"To finish it, then, it only remains for me to offer the necklace to +your majesty;" and drawing out the case, he presented it to her. + +She took it, but did not open it, and laid it down by her side. She +received kindly all his polite speeches, but as she was longing to be +left alone with her diamonds, she began to answer somewhat absently. + +He thought she was embarrassed, and was delighted, thinking it showed, +at least, an absence of indifference. He then kissed her hand, and took +leave, going away full of enthusiasm and hope. + +Jeanne was waiting for him in the carriage, and received his ardent +protestations with pleasure. "Well," said she, "shall you be Richelieu +or Mazarin? Have her lips given you encouragement in ambition or love? +Are you launched in politics or intrigue?" + +"Do not laugh, dear countess; I am full of happiness." + +"Already!" + +"Assist me, and in three weeks I may be a minister." + +"Peste! that is a long time; the next payment is in a fortnight." + +"Ah! the queen has money, and will pay, and I shall have only the merit +of the intention. It is too little; I would willingly have paid for this +reconciliation with the whole sum." + +"Make yourself easy," replied the countess; "you shall have this merit +if you desire it." + +"I should have preferred it; the queen would then have been under an +obligation to me." + +"Monseigneur, something tells me you will have this satisfaction. Are +you prepared for it?" + +"I have mortgaged all my revenue for the ensuing year." + +"Then you have the money?" + +"Certainly, for this payment; after that, I do not know what I shall +do." + +"Oh, this payment will give you three quiet months; who knows what may +happen in three months?" + +"That is true; but she said that the king wished me to incur no more +debt." + +"Two months in the ministry would set all straight." + +"Countess!" + +"Oh, do not be fastidious; if you do not assist yourself, others will." + +"You are right. Where are you going now?" + +"Back to the queen, to hear what she says of your interview." + +"Good! I go to Paris." + +"Why? You should go this evening to the 'jeu du roi;' it is good policy +to keep your ground." + +"No, countess; I must attend a rendezvous, for which I received a note +this morning." + +"A rendezvous?" + +"Yes, and a serious one, by the contents of the note. Look." + +"A man's writing," said the countess; and, opening the note, she read: + + "MONSEIGNEUR,--Some one wishes to see you about raising an + important sum of money. This person will wait on you this evening, + at Paris, to solicit the honor of an interview." + +"Anonymous--some beggar?" + +"No, countess; no beggar would expose himself to the risk of being +beaten by my servants. Besides, I fancy I have seen the writing before. +So au revoir, countess." + +"Apropos, monseigneur, if you are going to get a windfall, some large +sum, I understand we are to share." + +"Countess, you have brought me luck; I shall not be ungrateful." And +they separated. + +The cardinal was full of happy dreams: the queen had received him +kindly. He would place himself at the head of her party, and make it a +popular one; he would protect her, and for her sake would abandon his +slothful life, and live an active one. + +As soon as he arrived at his hotel, he commenced burning a box full of +love-letters; then he called his steward to order some economical +reforms, and sat down to his history of English politics. Soon he heard +a ring, and a servant entered to announce the person who had written to +him that morning. + +"Ask his name," said the cardinal. + +The man, having inquired, returned and said: + +"M. le Comte de Cagliostro." + +"Let him come in." + +The count entered. + +"Mon Dieu!" cried the cardinal, "is it possible? Joseph Balsamo, who was +supposed to have perished in the flames?" + +"Yes, monseigneur, more alive than ever." + +"But, sir, you have taken a new name." + +"Yes, monseigneur; the other recalled too many painful recollections. +Possibly, you yourself would not have opened your door to Joseph +Balsamo." + +"I! oh yes, sir." + +"Then monseigneur has a better memory and more honesty than most men." + +"Monsieur, you once rendered me a service." + +"Am I not, monseigneur, a good specimen of the results of my elixir?" + +"I confess it, sir; but you seem above humanity--you, who distribute +health and gold to all." + +"Health perhaps, monseigneur, but not gold." + +"You make no more gold." + +"No, monseigneur." + +"Why?" + +"Because I lost the parcel of an indispensable ingredient which Althotas +discovered, but of which I never had the receipt. He has carried that +secret with him to the grave." + +"He is dead, then? How, could you not preserve the life of this man, so +useful to you, as you have kept yourself through so many centuries?" + +"Because I can guard against illness, but not against such accidents as +kill before I can act." + +"He died from an accident, then?" + +"The fire in which you thought I died killed him; or rather he, weary of +life, chose to die." + +"It is strange." + +"No, it is natural; I have a hundred times thought of ending my life." + +"But you have not done so." + +"Because I enjoy a state of youth, in which health and pleasure kept me +from ennui; but he had chosen one of old age. He was a savant, and cared +only for science; and thus youth, with its thousand pleasures, would +have constantly drawn him from its study. An old man meditates better +than a young one. Althotas died a victim to his love of science: I lead +a worldly life, and do nothing--I live like a planet." + +"Oh, sir, your words and appearance bring to me dreams of my youth. It +is ten years since I saw you." + +"Yes; but if you are no longer a fine young man, you are a prince. Do +you remember the day when, in my cabinet, I promised you the love of the +woman whose fair locks I consulted?" + +The cardinal turned from pale to red. Terror and joy almost stopped the +beating of his heart. + +"I remember," said he. + +"Ah, let me try if I can still play the magician. This fair child of +your dreams----" + +"What is she doing now?" + +"Ah, I suspect you yourself have seen her to-day; indeed, you have not +long left her." + +The cardinal could hardly stand. + +"Oh, I beg, sir----" he cried. + +"Let us speak of something else," said Cagliostro, sitting down. + + + + +CHAPTER LVII. + +DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. + + +"Now that we have renewed our acquaintance, let us converse," said +Cagliostro. + +"Yes," replied the cardinal, "about the money you wrote of; it was a +pretext, was it not?" + +"No, monsieur, a serious matter, as it concerns a sum of 500,000 +francs." + +"The sum which you lent me?" cried the cardinal, growing pale. + +"Yes, monseigneur; I love to see so good a memory in a great prince like +you." + +The cardinal felt overwhelmed by the blow. At last, trying to smile, he +said: + +"I thought that Joseph Balsamo had carried his debt with him to the +tomb, as he threw the receipt into the fire." + +"Monseigneur," replied the count, "the life of Joseph Balsamo is as +indestructible as the sheet on which you wrote. Death cannot conquer the +elixir of life; fire is powerless against asbestos." + +"I do not understand," said the cardinal. + +"You soon will," replied Cagliostro, producing a folded paper, which he +offered to the prince. + +He, before opening it, cried, "My receipt!" + +"Yes, monseigneur, your receipt." + +"But I saw you burn it." + +"True, I threw it on the fire, but by accident you had written on a +piece of asbestos, so that the receipt remained uninjured among the +cinders." + +"Monsieur," said the cardinal, haughtily, for he thought this a proof +that he had been suspected, "believe me, I should not have denied my +debt, even without this paper; therefore you were wrong to deceive me." + +"I deceived you?" + +"Yes; you made me think the paper was destroyed." + +"To leave you the calm enjoyment of 500,000 francs." + +"But, sir, why have you left such a sum for ten years unclaimed?" + +"I knew, monseigneur, that it was safe. Various events have deprived me +of my wealth; but, knowing that I had this sum in reserve, I have waited +patiently until the last moment." + +"And has that arrived?" + +"Alas! yes, monseigneur." + +"So that you can really wait no longer?" + +"No, monseigneur." + +"You want it at once?" + +"If it please you to pay it." + +The cardinal was at first silent, through despair. Then he said, in a +hoarse voice: + +"M. le Comte, we unhappy princes of the earth do not improvise fortunes +as quickly as you enchanters." + +"Oh, monseigneur," said Cagliostro, "I would not have asked you for this +sum, had I not known beforehand that you had it." + +"I have 500,000 francs?" + +"30,000 in gold, 11,000 in silver, and the rest in notes, which are in +this buhl cabinet." + +The cardinal turned white. "You knew this?" + +"Yes, monseigneur, and I know you have made great sacrifices to obtain +it. I have heard that you will pay heavily for it." + +"Oh, it is too true!" + +"But, monseigneur, during these ten years I have often been in want and +embarrassment, yet I have kept this paper back, so as not to trouble +you; therefore I do not think you can complain." + +"Complain! oh, no, sir; when you graciously lent me such a sum, I must +ever remain your debtor. But during those ten years there were twenty +occasions when I could have repaid you with ease, while to-day the +restitution you demand embarrasses me dreadfully. You, who know +everything, who read even hearts, and penetrate the doors of cabinets, +doubtless, know also the purpose for which this money was destined." + +"You are wrong, monseigneur," said Cagliostro, coldly. "My knowledge has +brought me so much misery and disappointment, that I no longer seek to +penetrate the secrets of others. It concerned me to know whether you had +this money, as I wished to claim it; but once having ascertained that, I +did not trouble myself to think for what purpose it was destined. +Besides, did I know it, it might seem so grave a matter as almost to +force me to waive my claim, which really at present I cannot afford to +do. Therefore, I prefer to be ignorant." + +"Oh, monsieur," cried the cardinal, "do not think I wish to parade my +embarrassments in order to elude my debt! You have your own interests to +look to; they are guaranteed by this paper, which bears my +signature--that is enough. You shall have your money, although I do not +think there was any promise to pay." + +"Your eminence is mistaken;" and opening the paper he read these words: + + "I acknowledge the receipt of 500,000 francs from M. Joseph + Balsamo, which I will repay on demand. + + "LOUIS DE ROHAN." + +"You see, monseigneur, that I only ask my right; besides, as this was a +spontaneous loan by me to a man I hardly knew, the payment might have +been equally spontaneous, without waiting for me to claim it. But you +did not think so. Well, monseigneur, I withdraw this paper, and bid you +adieu." + +"No, count," replied the cardinal; "a Rohan must not receive lessons in +generosity; besides, this is a mere question of honesty. Give me the +paper, sir, and I will discharge my debt." + +For a moment Cagliostro hesitated, for the pale face and distressed air +of the cardinal inclined him to pity; but quickly hardening himself he +handed him the paper. M. de Rohan went to the cabinet, and took out the +money. "There," said he, "are your 500,000 francs; and I owe you 250,000 +more for interest, which you shall have if you will give me time." + +"Monseigneur," said Cagliostro, "I lent 500,000 francs to M. de Rohan, +which he has paid me; he therefore owes me nothing more. I will take the +notes with me, and send for the money. I thank you for your compliance +with my request." Then, bowing, he left the room. + +"Well," sighed M. de Rohan, "it is likely, at least, that the queen has +the money, and no Joseph Balsamo will come and take it from her." + + + + +CHAPTER LVIII. + +FAMILY ACCOUNTS. + + +It was the day before the first payment was due, and M. de Calonne had +so much to do, that he had forgotten his promise. The queen had up to +this time waited patiently, relying on his word; she now, however, was +beginning to grow uneasy, when she received the following note: + + "This evening the business with which your majesty has charged me + will be settled by the Council; the money will be with the queen + to-morrow evening." + +Marie Antoinette recovered all her gaiety directly. + +After dinner the king went to the Council, but in a rather bad humor. +The news from Russia was bad; a vessel had been lost; some of the +provinces refused to pay the taxes; also a beautiful map of the world, +made by himself, had that day split into two pieces. Vainly, therefore, +M. de Calonne produced his accounts, with his usual smiling air; the +king continued out of temper. For a long time he sat, as usual, drawing +hieroglyphics on a piece of paper, whilst the foreign correspondence +was being read, and paying little attention to what passed around him. + +At last, however, M. de Calonne began to speak of the loan to be raised +for the ensuing year. The king became attentive, and said, "Always +borrowing; but how is it to be repaid? That is a problem, M. de Calonne, +for you to solve." + +"Sire, a loan is only turning a stream from one direction, to cause it +to flow more abundantly in another. In deepening the channel, you only +increase the supply; therefore, let us not think of paying, but only of +obtaining present supplies." M. de Calonne then explained his plans, +which were approved by his colleagues. + +The king agreed, with a sigh. + +"Now we have money," said M. de Calonne, "let us dispose of it;" and he +handed a paper to the king, with a list of pensions, gifts, and payments +to be made. + +The king glanced at the total,--"1,900,000 francs for this--enormous!" + +"But, sire, one item is 500,000 francs." + +"Which?" + +"The advance to the queen." + +"To the queen! 500,000 francs to the queen!--impossible!" + +"Pardon, sire, it is correct." + +"But there must be a mistake; a fortnight ago her majesty received her +money." + +"Sire, but if her majesty has need of money; and we all know how well +she employs it." + +"No," cried the king; "the queen does not want this money; she said to +me that she preferred a vessel to jewels. The queen thinks but of +France, and when France is poor, we that are rich ought to lend to +France; and if she does require this money, it will be a greater merit +to wait for it; and I guarantee that she will wait." + +The ministers applauded this patriotic speech of the king,--only M. de +Calonne insisted. + +"Really, monsieur," said the king, "you are more interested for us than +we are for ourselves." + +"The queen, sire, will accuse us of having been backward when her +interests were concerned." + +"I will plead your cause." + +"But, sire, the queen never asks without necessity." + +"If the queen has wants, they are, I trust, less imperious than those of +the poor, and she will be the first to acknowledge it." + +"Sire!" + +"I am resolved," said the king; "and I fancy I hear the queen in her +generosity thanking me for having so well understood her heart." + +M. de Calonne bit his lips, and Louis, content with this personal +sacrifice, signed all the rest without looking at them. + +"Calonne, you shall tell the queen yourself." + +"Oh! sire, I beg to resign to you the honor." + +"So be it then. Ah! here she comes, let us meet her." + +"I beg your majesty to excuse me," he replied, and retired quickly. + +The king approached the queen--she was leaning on the arm of the Comte +d'Artois, and seemed very gay. + +"Madame," said the king, "have you had a pleasant walk?" + +"Yes, sire. And you an agreeable council?" + +"Yes, madame, I have gained you 500,000 francs." + +"M. de Calonne has kept his word," thought the queen. + +"Only imagine, madame," continued the king; "M. de Calonne had put down +500,000 francs for you, and I have struck it out,--a clear gain, +therefore, of that sum." + +"Struck it through!" cried the queen, turning pale; "but, sire----" + +"Oh! I am so hungry, I am going to supper;" and he went away delighted +with his work. + +"Brother," said the queen, "seek M. de Calonne for me." + +At that moment a note from him was handed to her: "Your majesty will +have learned that the king refused your grant. It was incomprehensible, +and I retired from the council penetrated with grief." + +"Read," said she, passing the note to the count. + +"And there are people," said he, "who say that we squander the revenue! +This is an extraordinary proceeding----" + +"Quite husbandlike," said the queen. "Adieu, brother." + +"I condole with you," he replied; "and it is a lesson for me. I was +going to make a request to-morrow for myself." + +"Send for Madame de la Motte," said the queen, when she returned to her +room. + + + + +CHAPTER LIX. + +MARIE ANTOINETTE AS QUEEN, AND MADAME DE LA MOTTE AS WOMAN. + + +The courier despatched for Madame de la Motte, not finding her at home, +went to the hotel of the Cardinal de Rohan to inquire if she were there. + +The well-tutored Swiss replied that she was not, but that he could get +any message transmitted to her. + +The courier, therefore, left word for her to come to the queen as soon +as possible. The man had hardly left the door before the message was +delivered to Jeanne as she sat at supper with the cardinal. She set off +immediately, and was at once introduced into the queen's chamber. + +"Oh!" cried the queen on seeing her, "I have something to tell you. The +king has refused me 500,000 francs." + +"Mon Dieu!" murmured the countess. + +"Incredible, is it not? He struck through the item; but it is useless to +talk of it; you must return to Paris, and tell the cardinal that since +he is so kind I accept the 500,000 francs he offered me. It is selfish, +I know, but what can I do?" + +"Oh! madame!" cried Jeanne, "we are lost--the cardinal no longer has the +money." + +The queen started. + +"No money!" stammered she. + +"No, madame; an unexpected creditor claimed this money from him. It was +a debt of honor, and he paid it." + +"The whole 500,000 francs? + +"Yes, madame." + +"And he has no more?" + +"No, madame, he told me this an hour and a half ago, and confessed to me +that he had no other resources." + +The queen leaned her head on her hands; then, after a few moments' +reflection, she said: + +"This, countess, is a terrible lesson for me, and a punishment for +having done anything, great or small, without the king's knowledge. It +was a folly; I had no need of this necklace." + +"True, madame; but if the queen consulted only her absolute wants----" + +"I must consult before everything the tranquillity and happiness of my +household. I renounce forever what has begun with so much annoyance. I +will sacrifice my vanity on the altar of duty, as M. de Provence would +say; and beautiful as this necklace is, you shall carry it back to MM. +Boehmer and Bossange." + +"Carry it back?" + +"Yes." + +"But, madame, your majesty has already given 100,000 francs for it." + +"Well, I shall gain all the rest that was to have been paid for it." + +"But, madame, they will not like to return your money." + +"I give it up on condition of their breaking the contract. Now, +countess, that I have come to this determination, I feel at ease once +more. This necklace brought with it cares and fears; diamonds cannot +compensate for these. Take it away, countess; the jewelers must be +satisfied; they will have their necklace, and 100,000 francs into the +bargain." + +"But M. de Rohan?" + +"He only acted to give me pleasure, and when he is told it is my +pleasure, not to have the necklace, he will understand me, I am sure; +and if he is a good friend, he will approve and strengthen me in my +sacrifice." Saying these words, the queen held out the casket to Jeanne. + +She did not take it. "Why not ask for time, madame?" + +"No, countess, it is humiliation. One may humiliate one's self for a +person one loves, to save a living creature, were it only a dog; but +only to keep some sparkling stones--never, countess; take it away." + +"But, madame, it will surely become known that your majesty has had the +jewels, and was obliged to return them." + +"No one will know anything about it. The jewelers will surely hold their +tongues for 100,000 francs. Take it away, countess, and thank M. de +Rohan for his good-will towards me. There is no time to lose; go as soon +as possible, and bring me back a receipt for them." + +"Madame, it shall be done as you wish." + +She first drove home, and changed her dress, which was too elegant for a +visit to the jewelers. Meanwhile she reflected much; she thought still +it was a fault for M. de Rohan to allow the queen to part with these +jewels; and should she obey her orders without consulting him, would he +not have reason to complain? Would he not rather sell himself than let +the queen return them? "I must consult him," she thought; "but, after +all, he never can get the money." She then took the necklace from the +case, once more to look at and admire it. "1,600,000 francs in my +possession; true, it is but for an hour. To carry away such a sum in +gold I should want two horses, yet how easily I hold it here! But I must +decide. Shall I go to the cardinal, or take it direct to the jewelers, +as the queen ordered? And the receipt--in what form shall I get it, so +as not to compromise the queen, the cardinal, or myself? Shall I +consult---- Ah! if he loved me more, and could give me the diamonds." + +She sat down again and remained nearly an hour in deep thought. Then +she rose, with a strange look in her eyes, and rang the bell with a +determined air. + +She ordered a coach, and in a few minutes she reached the house of the +journalist, M. Reteau de Villette. + + + + +CHAPTER LX. + +THE RECEIPT OF MM. BOEHMER AND BOSSANGE, AND THE GRATITUDE OF THE +QUEEN. + + +The result of Madame de la Motte's visit to M. Reteau de Villette +appeared the next day. At seven o'clock in the morning she sent to the +queen the following paper: + + "We, the undersigned, acknowledge having received back again the + diamond necklace sold to the queen for 1,600,000 francs, the + diamonds not suiting her majesty, who has paid us for our loss and + trouble 100,000 francs. + + "BOEHMER AND BOSSANGE." + +The queen, now tranquil about the whole affair, locked up the receipt, +and thought no more of it. + +But, in strange contradiction to this receipt, the jewelers received a +visit two days after from M. de Rohan, who felt uneasy about the +payment. + +If the instalment had not been paid, he expected to find them naturally +annoyed; but to his great satisfaction they received him with smiles. + +"The queen has paid, then?" he asked. + +"No, monseigneur, the queen could not procure the money, as the king had +refused it to her; but she has guaranteed the debt, and that fully +satisfies us." + +"Ah! so much the better; but how? Through the countess?" + +"No, monseigneur. On hearing of the king's refusal, which soon became +public, we wrote to Madame de la Motte----" + +"When?" + +"Yesterday." + +"And she replied?" + +"By one word, 'Wait.' That evening we received from the queen, by a +courier, a letter." + +"A letter to you?" + +"Or rather a guarantee, in due form." + +"Let me see it." + +"Oh! we would with pleasure, but her majesty enjoins that it is not to +be shown to any one." + +"Then you are safe?" + +"Perfectly, monseigneur." + +"The queen acknowledges the debt?" + +"Fully." + +"And engages to pay?" + +"500,000 francs in three months, the rest in six;" and she adds, "let +the affair rest between ourselves. You will have no cause to repent it." + +"I am charmed that it is settled," said the cardinal. + +We must now raise the veil, though, doubtless, our readers comprehend +how Jeanne de la Motte had acted towards her benefactress, and how she +had managed to satisfy both the queen and the jewelers by borrowing the +pen of M. Reteau. + +Three months were thus obtained for the completion of her design of +crime and deception, and within three months everything would be +arranged. + +She went to M. de Rohan, and repeated to him what the jewelers had +already told him. + +He asked if the queen remembered his good intentions. She drew a picture +of her gratitude, which enchanted him. + +Her intention had been to sell some of the diamonds to the value of +100,000 crowns, and then pass over to England, where, when necessary, +she could dispose of the remainder. But her first essay frightened her; +some offered despicably small sums for the stones, others went into +raptures, declaring they had never seen such diamonds but in the +necklace of MM. Boehmer and Bossange. + +She abandoned this course, therefore, which she saw might soon bring +about her ruin. She shut up the diamonds carefully, and resolved to +wait. But her position was critical. A few words of explanation between +the queen and the cardinal, and all would be discovered. She consoled +herself by thinking that the cardinal was too much in love not to fall +into all the snares she might lay for him. + +One thought alone occupied her--how to prevent their meeting. That he +would not be long satisfied without an interview she knew--what should +she do? Persuade him to ask for one, and offend the queen by his +presumption?--but then the queen would speak her anger out, and all +would come to light. She must compromise her, and endeavor so to close +her lips. But if they met by chance, what remained for her but flight? +That was easy; a few hours would suffice. Then, again, she thought of +the name she would leave behind her, and bear with her; no longer a +woman of rank, but a thief, whom justice only does not reach, because +she is too far off. No, she would not fly, if she could help it. She +would try what audacity and skill could do, remain here and act between +them. "To prevent them from meeting--that is the difficulty, as he is in +love, and a prince, who has a right to see the queen; and she is now +grateful and will no longer fly from him; but if I excite him to too +open an admiration and disgust her, I alienate them more than ever. She +will take fire easily, but what I want is something to make the queen +tremble as well as him; something which would give me power to say, 'If +you accuse me, I will accuse you and ruin you--leave me my wealth, and I +will you your honor.' This is what I must seek for, and what I must +find." + + + + +CHAPTER LXI + +THE PRISONER. + +Meanwhile a different scene was passing in the Rue St. Claude, where M. +de Cagliostro had lodged Oliva in the old house, to keep her from the +pursuit of the police. There she lived, retired, and almost happy: +Cagliostro lavished care and attentions on her, and she liked being +protected by this great lord, who asked nothing from her in return. Only +what did he want? she often asked herself, uselessly, for he must have +some object. Her amour propre made her decide that after all he was in +love with her; and she began to build castles in the air in which we +must confess poor Beausire now very rarely had a place. Therefore the +two visits a week paid to her by Cagliostro were always eagerly looked +forward to, and between them she amused herself with her dreams, and +playing the great lady. However, her books were soon read through, at +least such as suited her taste, and pictures and music soon wearied her. +She soon began to regret her mornings passed at the windows of the Rue +Dauphine, where she used to sit to attract the attention of the +passers-by; and her delightful promenades in the Quartier St. Germain, +where so many people used to turn to look after her. True, the +police-agents were formidable people, but what availed safety if she was +not amused; so she first regretted her liberty, and then regretted +Beausire. + +Then she began to lose her appetite for want of fresh air, for she had +been used to walk every day. + +One day, when she was bemoaning her fate, she received an unexpected +visit from Cagliostro. He gave his accustomed signal, and she opened the +door, which was always kept bolted, with an eagerness which showed her +delight; and, seizing his hands, she cried, in an impatient voice, +"Monsieur, I am ennuyée here." + +"This is unlucky, my dear child." + +"I shall die here." + +"Really?" + +"Yes." + +"Well," said he, soothingly, "do not blame me, blame the lieutenant of +police, who persecutes you." + +"You exasperate me with your sang froid, monsieur; I would rather you +flew in a passion." + +"Confess, mademoiselle, that you are unreasonable," said he, seating +himself. + +"It is all very well for you to talk," replied she; "you come and go as +you like, you breathe the fresh air, your life is full of pleasure. I +vegetate in the space to which you have limited me, and your assistance, +is useless to me if I am to die here." + +"Die!" said the count, smiling. + +"You behave very badly to me; you forget that I love passionately." + +"M. Beausire?" + +"Yes, Beausire, I love him. I always told you so. Did you think I had +forgotten him?" + +"So little did I think so, mademoiselle, that I bring you news of him." + +"Ah!" + +"He is a charming person, young and handsome, is he not?" + +"Full of imagination and fire, rather rough toward me, but that is his +way of showing his love." + +"Therefore I wished to take you back to him." + +"You did not wish that a month ago." + +"No, but when I see how you love him." + +"Ah! you are laughing at me." + +"Oh, no, you have resisted all my advances so well." + +"Yes, have I not?" + +"It was your love for him." + +"But yours, then, was not very tenacious." + +"No, I am neither old enough nor ugly enough, neither poor enough nor +foolish enough, to run the risk of a refusal; and I saw that you would +always have preferred Beausire." + +"Oh, but," cried the coquette, using her eyes, which had remained idle +so long, "this famous compact which you proposed to me, the right of +always giving me your arm, of visiting me when you liked; did that give +you no hope?" + +Cagliostro did not reply, but turned his eyes as if dazzled by her +glances. + +"Let us return to Beausire," she said, piqued at his indifference; "why +have you not brought him here? it would have been a charity. He is +free----" + +"Because," replied Cagliostro, "Beausire has too much imagination, and +has also embroiled himself with the police." + +"What has he done?" + +"Oh, a delightful trick, a most ingenious idea; I call it a joke, but +matter-of-fact people--and you know how matter-of-fact M. de Crosne can +be--call it a theft." + +"A theft!" cried Oliva, frightened. "Is he arrested?" + +"No, but he is pursued." + +"And is he in danger?" + +"That I cannot tell you; he is well hunted for, and if you were +together, the chances of his being taken would be doubled." + +"Oh, yes, he must hide, poor fellow; I will hide too; let me leave +France, monsieur. Pray render me this service; for if I remain shut up +here, I shall end by committing some imprudence." + +"What do you call imprudence?" + +"Oh, just getting some fresh air." + +"I do not want to prevent your getting fresh air; you would lose your +beauty, and M. Beausire would love you no longer. Open the windows as +much as you like." + +"Oh, I see I have offended you; you care no more about me." + +"Offended me--how?" + +"Because you had taken a fancy to me, and I repulsed you. A man of your +consequence, a handsome man like you, has a right to be angry at being +rejected by a poor girl like me. But do not abandon me, sir, I entreat;" +and she put her arms round his neck. + +"Poor little thing," said he, kissing her forehead; "do not be afraid; I +am not angry or offended. Indeed, were you to offer me your love, I +should refuse you, so much do I desire to inspire pure sentiments. +Besides, I should think you influenced more by gratitude than love; so +we will remain as we are, and I will continue to protect you." + +Oliva let his hand fall, humiliated, and duped by the pretended +generosity of Cagliostro. "Oh, I shall say henceforth," she cried, +"that there are men superior to what I ever thought." + +"All women are good," thought Cagliostro, "if you only touch the right +chord.--From this evening," he said aloud, "you shall move to other +rooms, where the windows look on Menilmontant and the Bellevue. You need +not fear to show yourself to the neighbors; they are all honest, simple +people, who will never suspect you. Only keep a little back from the +window, lest any one passing through the street should see you. At least +you will have air and sunshine." + +Oliva looked pleased. + +"Shall I conduct you there now?" + +"Oh, yes." + +He took a light, and she followed him up a staircase to the third story, +and entered a room, completely furnished, and ready for occupation. + +"One would think it was prepared for me," she said. + +"Not for you, but for myself; I like this place, and often come here to +sleep. Nothing shall be wanting to make you comfortable, and your +femme-de-chambre shall attend you in a quarter of an hour." And he left +the room. + +The poor prisoner sat down by her elegant bed, murmuring, "I understand +nothing of all this." + + + + +CHAPTER LXII. + +THE LOOK OUT. + + +Oliva went to bed, and slept better. She admired the count, whom she did +not in the least understand. She could no longer think him timid; she +did not suspect that he was only cold and insensible. She felt pleased +at the perfect safety in which he assured her she was; and in the +morning she examined her new rooms, and found them nobly and luxuriously +furnished, and enjoyed immensely her privilege of going out into the +balcony, filled with flowers, and where she got sunshine and fresh air, +although she drew back whenever she saw any one approaching, or heard a +carriage coming. There were not many, however, in the Rue St. Claude. +She could see the château of Menilmontant, the great trees in the +cemetery, myriads of houses of all colors; and she could see the fields +beyond, full of children at play, and the peasants trotting along the +roads on their donkeys. All this charmed Oliva, who had always a heart +of love for the country, since she had left Taverney Maison-Rouge. At +last, getting tired of this distant view, she began to examine the +houses opposite to her. In some, she saw birds in cages; and in one, +hung with yellow silk curtains, and ornamented with flowers, she thought +she could distinguish a figure moving about. She called her +femme-de-chambre to make inquiries about them; but the woman could only +show her mistress all the churches, and tell her the names of the +streets; she knew nothing of the neighbors. Oliva therefore sent her +away again, and determined to watch for herself. + +She saw some open their doors, and come out for a walk, and others +variously occupied. At last she saw the figure of a woman seat herself +in an armchair, in the room with the yellow curtains, and abandon her +head for an hour and a half to a hair-dresser, while he built up one of +those immense edifices worn at that time, in which minerals, vegetables, +and even animals, were introduced. At last, it was complete: Oliva +thought she looked pretty, and admired her little foot, encased in a +rose-colored slipper, which rested on another chair. She began to +construct all sorts of romances about this lady, and made various +movements to attract her attention, but she never turned her eyes that +way, as that room had never before been occupied, and she began to +despair. The lady was, of course, Jeanne de Valois, who was deeply +absorbed in devising some scheme for preventing the queen and the +cardinal from meeting. At last, Oliva, turning suddenly round, knocked +over a flower-pot which fell from the balcony with a crash: at the sound +the lady turned and saw her, and clasping her hands she called out, +"The Queen;" but looking again, she murmured, "Oh! I sought for a means +to gain my end, and I have found one." Then, hearing a sound behind her, +Oliva turned and saw Cagliostro, and came in directly. + + + + +CHAPTER LXIII. + +THE TWO NEIGHBORS. + + +Cagliostro recommended her using the greatest circumspection, and, above +all, not to make friends with her neighbors; but she did not feel +disposed to relinquish the intercourse which she hoped for with her fair +neighbor opposite. She, however, promised to obey him; but he was no +sooner gone than she returned to her balcony, hoping to attract her +attention again. Nor was she disappointed, for Jeanne, who was watching +for her, acknowledged her with a bow and by kissing her hand. This went +on for two days. Jeanne was ever ready to wave her a good morning, or an +adieu when she went out. + +Cagliostro, at his next visit, informed Oliva that an unknown person had +paid a visit to her hotel. + +"What do you mean?" cried Oliva. + +"A very pretty and elegant lady presented herself here, and asked the +servant who inhabited this story, and wished to see you. I fear you are +discovered; you must take care, the police have female spies as well as +male, and I warn you, that if M. de Crosne claims you, I cannot refuse +to give you up." + +Oliva was not at all frightened, she recognized the portrait of her +opposite neighbor, and felt delighted at this advance, but she +dissembled with the count, and said, "Oh! I am not at all frightened; no +one has seen me; she could not have meant me." + +"But she said a lady in these rooms." + +"Well, I will be more careful than ever, and, besides, this house is so +impenetrable." + +"Yes, without climbing the wall, which is not easy, or opening the +little door with a key like mine, which I never lend, no one can come +in, so I think you are safe." + +Oliva overwhelmed the count with thanks and protestations, but at six +o'clock the next morning she was out in the balcony. She had not long to +wait before Jeanne appeared, who, after looking cautiously up and down +the street, and observing that all the doors and windows were still +closed, and that everything was quiet, called across, "I wish to pay you +a visit, madame; is it impossible to see you?" + +"Alas, yes!" said Oliva. + +"Can I send a letter?" + +"Oh, no!" + +Jeanne, after a moment's thought, left her balcony, but soon returned +with a cross-bow, with which she shot a little wooden ball right through +the open window of Oliva's room. + +She picked it up and found wrapped round it the following note: + + "You interest me, beautiful lady. I find you charming, and love you + only by having seen you. Are you a prisoner? I vainly tried to + obtain admission to you. Does the enchanter who guards you never + let any one approach you? Will you be my friend? If you cannot go + out, you can at least write, and as I go out when I please, wait + till you see me pass, and then throw out your answer. Tie a thread + to your balcony, and attach your note to it; I will take it off and + fasten mine on, and in the dark no one will observe us. If your + eyes have not deceived me, I count on a return of my affection and + esteem, and between us we will outwit any one. + + "YOUR FRIEND." + +Oliva trembled with joy when she read this note. She replied as follows: + + "I love you as you love me. I am a victim of the wickedness and + cruelty of men; but he who keeps me here is a protector and not a + tyrant; he comes to see me nearly every day. I will explain all + this some day; but, alas! I cannot go out; I am locked up. Oh! if I + could but see you; there is so much we cannot write. + + "Your friend, + + "OLIVA LEGAY." + +Then, when evening came, she let the thread fall over the balcony. +Jeanne, who was below, caught it, and half an hour afterwards attached +to it the following answer: + + "You seem generally alone. How is your house secured--with a key? + Who has this key? Could you not borrow or steal it? It would be no + harm, but would procure you a few hours of liberty, or a few walks + with a friend, who would console you for all your misfortune." + +Oliva devoured this eagerly. She had remarked that when the count came +in he put down his lantern and the key on a chiffonier. So she prepared +some wax to take the impression of the key at his first visit. This she +accomplished without his once turning to look at her, and as soon as he +was gone, she put it into a little box, and lowered it to Jeanne, with a +note. + +The next day she received the following answer: + + "MY DEAREST, + + "To-night, at eleven o'clock, you will descend and unlock the door, + when you will find yourself in the arms of your faithful friend." + +Oliva felt more charmed than with the most tender love-letter that she +had ever received. At the appointed time she went down and met Jeanne, +who embraced her tenderly, and made her get into a carriage that waited +a little way off; they remained out two hours, and parted with kisses +and protestations of affection. Jeanne learned the name of Oliva's +protector; she feared this man, and determined to preserve the most +perfect mystery as to her plans. Oliva had confided everything to her +about Beausire, the police, and all. Jeanne gave herself out for a young +lady of rank, living here secretly, without the knowledge of her +friends. One knew all, the other nothing. From this day, then, it was no +longer necessary to throw out notes; Jeanne had her key, and carried off +Oliva whenever she pleased. "M. de Cagliostro suspects nothing?" she +often asked Oliva. + +"Oh! no," she would reply; "I do not think he would believe it if I told +him." + +A week passed thus. + + + + +CHAPTER LXIV. + +THE RENDEZVOUS. + + +When Charny arrived at his estates, the doctor ordered him to keep +within doors, and not receive visitors; orders which he rigorously +obeyed, to the great disappointment of all the young ladies in the +neighborhood, who were most anxious to see this young man, reputed to be +at once so brave and so handsome. His malady, however, was more mental +than bodily; he was devoured by regrets, by longings, and by ennui; so, +after a week, he set off one night on horseback, and, before the +morning, was at Versailles. He found a little house there, outside the +park, which had been empty for some time; it had been inhabited by one +of the king's huntsmen, who had cut his throat, and since then the place +had been deserted. There Charny lived in profound solitude; but he could +see the queen from afar when she walked in the park with her ladies, and +when she went in again he could see her windows from his own, and watch +her lights every evening until they disappeared; and he even fancied he +could see her shadow pass before the window. One evening he had watched +all this as usual, and after sitting two hours longer at his window, was +preparing to go to bed, for midnight was striking from a neighboring +clock, when the sound of a key turning in a lock arrested his +attention. It was that of a little door leading into the park, only +twenty paces from his cottage, and which was never used, except +sometimes on hunting-days. Whoever it was that entered did not speak, +but closed it again quietly, and entered an avenue under his windows. At +first Charny could not distinguish them through the thick wood, though +he could hear the rustling of dresses; but as they emerged into an open +space, and bright moonlight, he almost uttered a cry of joy in +recognizing the tournure of Marie Antoinette, and a glimpse of her face; +she held in her hand a beautiful rose. Stifling his emotion, he stepped +down as quietly as possible into the park, and hid behind a clump of +trees, where he could see her better. "Oh!" thought he, "were she but +alone, I would brave tortures, or death itself, that I might once fall +on my knees before her, and tell her, 'I love you!'" Oh, were she but +menaced by some danger, how gladly would he have risked his life to save +hers. Suddenly the two ladies stopped, and the shortest, after saying a +few words to her companion in a low voice, left her. The queen, +therefore, remained alone, and Charny felt inclined to run towards her; +but he reflected that the moment she saw him she would take fright, and +call out, and that her cries would first bring back her companion, and +then the guards; that his retreat would be discovered, and he should be +forced to leave it. In a few minutes the other lady reappeared, but not +alone. Behind her came a man muffled up in a large cloak, and whose face +was concealed by a slouch hat. + +This man advanced with an uncertain and hesitating step to where the +queen stood, when he took off his hat and made a low bow. The surprise +which Charny felt at first soon changed into a more painful feeling. Why +was the queen in the park at this time of night? Who was this man who +was waiting for her, and whom she had sent her companion to fetch? Then +he remembered that the queen often occupied herself with foreign +politics, much to the annoyance of the king. Was this a secret +messenger from Schoenbrunn, or from Berlin? This idea restored him to +some degree of composure. The queen's companion stood a few steps off, +anxiously watching lest they should be seen; but it was as necessary to +guard against spies in a secret political rendezvous as in one of love. +After a short time Charny saw the gentleman bow to the ground, and turn +to leave, when the companion of the queen said to him, "Stop." He +stopped, and the two ladies passed close to Charny, who could even +recognize the queen's favorite scent, vervain, mixed with mignonette. +They passed on, and disappeared. A few moments after the gentleman +passed; he held in his hand a rose, which he pressed passionately to his +lips. Did this look political? Charny's head turned; he felt a strong +impulse to rush on this man and tear the flower from him, when the +queen's companion reappeared, and said, "Come, monseigneur." He joined +her quickly, and they went away. Charny remained in a distracted state, +leaning against the tree. + + + + +CHAPTER LXV. + +THE QUEEN'S HAND. + + +When Charny reentered the house, he felt overwhelmed by what he had +seen--that he should have discovered this retreat, which he had thought +so precious, only to be the witness of a crime, committed by the queen +against her conjugal duty and royal dignity. This man must be a lover; +in vain did he try to persuade himself that the rose was the pledge of +some political compact, given instead of a letter, which might have been +too compromising. The passionate kiss which he had seen imprinted on it +forbade this supposition. These thoughts haunted him all night and all +the next day, through which he waited with a feverish impatience, +fearing the new revelations which the night might bring forth. He saw +her taking her ordinary walk with her ladies, then watched the lights +extinguished one by one, and he waited nervously for the stroke of +midnight, the hour of the rendezvous of the preceding night. It struck, +and no one had appeared. He then wondered how he could have expected it; +she surely would not repeat the same imprudence two nights following. +But as these thoughts passed through his mind, he heard the key turn +again and saw the door open. Charny grew deadly pale when he recognized +the same two figures enter the park. "Oh, it is too much," he said to +himself, and then repeated his movements of the night before, swearing +that, whatever happened, he would restrain himself, and remember that +she was his queen. All passed exactly as the night before: the +confidante left and returned with the same man; only this time, instead +of advancing with his former timid respect, he almost ran up to the +queen, and kneeled down before her. Charny could not hear what he said, +but he seemed to speak with passionate energy. She did not reply, but +stood in a pensive attitude; then he spoke again, and at last she said a +few words, in a low voice, when the unknown cried out, in a loud voice, +so that Charny could hear, "Oh! thanks, your majesty, till to-morrow, +then." The queen drew her hood still more over her face, and held out +both her hands to the unknown, who imprinted on them a kiss so long and +tender that Charny gnashed his teeth with rage. The queen then took the +arm of her companion and walked quickly away; the unknown passed also. +Charny remained in a state of fury not to be described; he ran about the +park like a madman: at last he began to wonder where this man came from; +he traced his steps to the door behind the baths of Apollo. He comes not +from Versailles, but from Paris, thought Charny, and to-morrow he will +return, for he said, "to-morrow." Till then let me devour my tears in +silence, but to-morrow shall be the last day of my life, for we will be +four at the rendezvous. + + + + +CHAPTER LXVI. + +WOMAN AND QUEEN. + + +The next night the door opened at the same time, and the two ladies +appeared. Charny had taken his resolution--he would find out who this +lover was; but when he entered the avenue he could see no one--they had +entered the baths of Apollo. He walked towards the door, and saw the +confidante, who waited outside. The queen, then, was in there alone with +her lover; it was too much. Charny was about to seize this woman, and +force her to tell him everything; but the rage and emotion he had +endured were too much for him--a mist passed over his eyes, internal +bleeding commenced, and he fainted. When he came to himself again, the +clock was striking two, the place was deserted, and there was no trace +of what had passed there. He went home, and passed a night almost of +delirium. The next morning he arose, pale as death, and went towards the +Castle of Trianon just as the queen was leaving the chapel. All heads +were respectfully lowered as she passed. She was looking beautiful, and +when she saw Charny she colored, and uttered an exclamation of surprise. + +"I thought you were in the country, M. de Charny," she said. + +"I have returned, madame," said he, in a brusque and almost rude tone. + +She looked at him in surprise; then, turning to the ladies, "Good +morning, countess," she said to Madame de la Motte, who stood near. + +Charny started as he caught sight of her, and looked at her almost +wildly. "He has not quite recovered his reason," thought the queen, +observing his strange manner. Then, turning to him again, "How are you +now, M. de Charny?" said she, in a kind voice. + +"Very well, madame." + +She looked surprised again; then said: + +"Where are you living?" + +"At Versailles, madame." + +"Since when?" + +"For three nights," replied he, in a marked manner. + +The queen manifested no emotion, but Jeanne trembled. + +"Have you not something to say to me?" asked the queen again, with +kindness. + +"Oh, madame, I should have too much to say to your majesty." + +"Come," said she, and she walked towards her apartments; but to avoid +the appearance of a tête-à-tête, she invited several ladies to follow +her. Jeanne, unquiet, placed herself among them; but when they arrived, +she dismissed Madame de Misery, and the other ladies, understanding that +she wished to be alone, left her. Charny stood before her. + +"Speak," said the queen; "you appear troubled, sir." + +"How can I begin?" said Charny, thinking aloud; "how can I dare to +accuse honor and majesty?" + +"Sir!" cried Marie Antoinette, with a flaming look. + +"And yet I should only say what I have seen." + +The queen rose. "Sir," said she, "it is very early in the morning for me +to think you intoxicated, but I can find no other solution for this +conduct." + +Charny, unmoved, continued, "After all, what is a queen?--a woman. And +am I not a man as well as a subject?" + +"Monsieur!" + +"Madame, anger is out of place now. I believe I have formerly proved +that I had respect for your royal dignity. I fear I proved that I had an +insane love for yourself. Choose, therefore, to whom I shall speak. Is +it to the queen, or the woman, that I shall address my accusation of +dishonor and shame?" + +"Monsieur de Charny," cried the queen, growing pale, "if you do not +leave this room, I must have you turned out by my guards!" + +"But I will tell you first," cried he, passionately, "why I call you an +unworthy queen and woman! I have been in the park these three nights!" + +Instead of seeing her tremble, as he believed she would on hearing these +words, the queen rose, and, approaching him, said, "M. de Charny, your +state excites my pity. Your hands tremble, you grow pale; you are +suffering. Shall I call for help?" + +"I saw you!" cried he again; "saw you with that man to whom you gave the +rose! saw you when he kissed your hands! saw you when you entered the +baths of Apollo with him!" + +The queen passed her hands over her eyes, as if to make sure that she +was not dreaming. + +"Sit down," said she, "or you will fall." + +Charny, indeed, unable to keep up, fell upon the sofa. + +She sat down by him. "Be calm," said she, "and repeat what you have just +said." + +"Do you want to kill me?" he murmured. + +"Then let me question," she said. "How long have you returned from the +country?" + +"A fortnight." + +"Where do you live?" + +"In the huntsman's house, which I have hired." + +"At the end of the park?" + +"Yes." + +"You speak of some one whom you saw with me." + +"Yes." + +"Where?" + +"In the park." + +"When?" + +"At midnight. Tuesday, for the first time, I saw you and your +companion." + +"Oh, I had a companion! Do you know her also?" + +"I thought just now I recognized her, but I could not be positive, +because it was only the figure--she always hid her face, like all who +commit crimes." + +"And this person to whom you say I gave a rose?" + +"I have never been able to meet him." + +"You do not know him, then?" + +"Only that he is called monseigneur." + +The queen stamped her foot. + +"Go on!" said she. "Tuesday I gave him a rose----" + +"Wednesday you gave him your hands to kiss, and yesterday you went alone +with him into the baths of Apollo, while your companion waited outside." + +"And you saw me?" said she, rising. + +He lifted his hands to heaven, and cried, "I swear it!" + +"Oh, he swears!" + +"Yes. On Tuesday you wore your green dress, moirée, with gold; +Wednesday, the dress with great blue and brown leaves; and yesterday, +the same dress that you wore when I last kissed your hand. Oh, madame, I +am ready to die with grief and shame while I repeat that, on my life, my +honor, it was really you!" + +"What can I say?" cried the queen dreadfully agitated. "If I swore, he +would not believe me." + +Charny shook his head. + +"Madman!" cried she, "thus to accuse your queen--to dishonor thus an +innocent woman! Do you believe me when I swear, by all I hold sacred, +that I was not in the park on either of those days after four o'clock? +Do you wish it to be proved by my women--by the king? No; he does not +believe me." + +"I saw you," replied he. + +"Oh, I know!" she cried. "Did they not see me at the ball at the Opera, +at Mesmer's, scandalizing the crowd? You know it--you, who fought for +me!" + +"Madame, then I fought because I did not believe it; now I might fight, +but I believe." + +The queen raised her arms to heaven, while burning tears rolled down her +cheeks. + +"My God," she cried, "send me some thought which will save me! I do not +wish this man to despise me." + +Charny, moved to the heart, hid his face in his hands. + +Then, after a moment's silence, the queen continued: + +"Sir, you owe me reparation. I exact this from you. You say you have +seen me three nights with a man; I have been already injured through +the resemblance to me of some woman, I know not whom, but who is like +her unhappy queen; but you are pleased to think it was me. Well, I will +go with you into the park; and if she appears again, you will be +satisfied? Perhaps we shall see her together; then, sir, you will regret +the suffering you have caused me." + +Charny pressed his hands to his heart. + +"Oh, madame, you overwhelm me with your kindness!" + +"I wish to overwhelm you with proofs. Not a word, to any one, but this +evening, at ten o'clock, wait alone at the door of the park. Now go, +sir." + +Charny kneeled, and went away without a word. + +Jeanne, who was waiting in the ante-chamber, examined him attentively as +he came out. She was soon after summoned to the queen. + + + + +CHAPTER LXVII. + +WOMAN AND DEMON. + + +Jeanne had remarked the trouble of Charny, the solicitude of the queen, +and the eagerness of both for a conversation. + +After what we have already told of the meetings between Jeanne and +Oliva, our readers will have been at no loss to understand the scenes in +the park. Jeanne, when she came in to the queen, watched her closely, +hoping to gather something from her; but Marie Antoinette was beginning +to learn caution, and she guarded herself carefully. Jeanne was, +therefore, reduced to conjectures. She had already ordered one of her +footmen to follow M. de Charny; the man reported that he had gone into a +house at the end of the park. + +"There is, then, no more doubt," thought Jeanne; "it is a lover who has +seen everything, it is clear. I should be a fool not to understand. I +must undo what I have done." + +On leaving Versailles, she drove to the Rue St. Claude; there she found +a superb present of plate, sent to her by the cardinal. She then drove +to his house, and found him radiant with joy and pride. On her entrance +he ran to meet her, calling her "Dear countess," and full of +protestations and gratitude. + +"Thank you also, for your charming present. You are more than a happy +man; you are a triumphant victor." + +"Countess, it frightens me; it is too much." + +Jeanne smiled. + +"You come from Versailles?" continued he. + +"Yes." + +"You have seen her?" + +"I have just left her." + +"And she said nothing?" + +"What do you expect that she said?" + +"Oh, I am insatiable." + +"Well, you had better not ask." + +"You frighten me. Is anything wrong? Have I come to the height of my +happiness, and is the descent to begin?" + +"You are very fortunate not to have been discovered." + +"Oh! with precautions, and the intelligence of two hearts and one +mind----" + +"That will not prevent eyes seeing through the trees." + +"We have been seen?" + +"I fear so." + +"And recognized?" + +"Oh, monseigneur, if you had been--if this secret had been known to any +one, Jeanne de Valois would be out of the kingdom, and you would be +dead." + +"True; but tell me quickly. They have seen people walking in the park; +is there any harm in that?" + +"Ask the king." + +"The king knows?" + +"I repeat to you, if the king knew, you would be in the Bastile. But I +advise you not to tempt Providence again." + +"What do you mean, dear countess?" + +"Do you not understand?" + +"I fear to understand," he replied. + +"I shall fear, if you do not promise to go no more to Versailles." + +"By day?" + +"Or by night." + +"Impossible!" + +"Why so, monseigneur?" + +"Because I have in my heart a love which will end only with my life." + +"So I perceive," replied she, ironically; "and it is to arrive more +quickly at this result that you persist in returning to the park; for +most assuredly, if you do, your love and your life will end together." + +"Oh, countess, how fearful you are--you who were so brave yesterday!" + +"I am always brave when there is no danger." + +"But I have the bravery of my race, and am happier in the presence of +danger." + +"But permit me to tell you----" + +"No, countess, the die is cast. Death, if it comes; but first, love. I +shall return to Versailles." + +"Alone, then." + +"You abandon me?" + +"And not I alone." + +"She will come?" + +"You deceive yourself; she will not come." + +"Is that what you were sent to tell me?" + +"It is what I have been preparing you for." + +"She will see me no more?" + +"Never; and it is I who have counseled it." + +"Madame, do not plunge the knife into my heart!" cried he, in a doleful +voice. + +"It would be much more cruel, monseigneur, to let two foolish people +destroy themselves for want of a little good advice." + +"Countess, I would rather die." + +"As regards yourself, that is easy; but, subject, you dare not dethrone +your queen; man, you will not destroy a woman." + +"But confess that you do not come in her name, that she does not throw +me off." + +"I speak in her name." + +"It is only a delay she asks?" + +"Take it as you wish; but obey her orders." + +"The park is not the only place of meeting. There are a hundred safer +spots--the queen can come to you, for instance." + +"Monseigneur, not a word more. The weight of your secret is too much for +me, and I believe her capable, in a fit of remorse, of confessing all to +the king." + +"Good God! impossible." + +"If you saw her, you would pity her." + +"What can I do then?" + +"Insure your safety by your silence." + +"But she will think I have forgotten her, and accuse me of being a +coward." + +"To save her." + +"Can a woman forgive him who abandons her?" + +"Do not judge her like others." + +"I believe her great and strong. I love her for her courage and her +noble heart. She may count on me, as I do on her. Once more I will see +her, lay bare my heart to her; and whatever she then commands, I will +sacredly obey." + +Jeanne rose. "Go, then," said she, "but go alone. I have thrown the key +of the park into the river. You can go to Versailles--I shall go to +Switzerland or Holland. The further off I am when the shell bursts the +better." + +"Countess, you abandon me. With whom shall I talk of her?" + +"Oh! you have the park and the echoes. You can teach them her name!" + +"Countess, pity me; I am in despair." + +"Well, but do not act in so childish and dangerous a manner. If you love +her so much, guard her name, and if you are not totally without +gratitude, do not involve in your own ruin those who have served you +through friendship. Swear to me not to attempt to see or speak to her +for a fortnight, and I will remain, and may yet be of service to you. +But if you decide to brave all, I shall leave at once, and you must +extricate yourself as you can." + +"It is dreadful," murmured the cardinal; "the fall from so much +happiness is overwhelming. I shall die of it." + +"Suffering is always the consequence of love. Come, monseigneur, decide. +Am I to remain here, or start for Lausanne?" + +"Remain, countess." + +"You swear to obey me." + +"On the faith of a Rohan." + +"Good. Well, then, I forbid interviews, but not letters." + +"Really! I may write?" + +"Yes." + +"And she will answer." + +"Try." + +The cardinal kissed Jeanne's hand again, and called her his guardian +angel. The demon within her must have laughed. + + + + +CHAPTER LXVIII. + +THE NIGHT. + + +That day, at four o'clock, a man on horseback stopped in the outskirts +of the park, just behind the baths of Apollo, where M. de Rohan used to +wait. He got off, and looked at the places where the grass had been +trodden down. "Here are the traces," thought he; "it is as I supposed. +M. de Charny has returned for a fortnight, and this is where he enters +the park." And he sighed. "Leave him to his happiness. God gives to one, +and denies to another. But I will have proof to-night. I will hide in +the bushes, and see what happens." + +As for Charny, obedient to the queen's commands, he waited for orders; +but it was half-past ten, and no one appeared. He waited with impatient +anxiety. Then he began to think she had deceived him, and had promised +what she did not mean to perform. "How could I be so foolish--I, who saw +her--to be taken in by her words and promises!" At last he saw a figure +approaching, wrapped in a large black mantle, and he uttered a cry of +joy, for he recognized the queen. He ran to her, and fell at her feet. + +"Ah, here you are, sir! it is well." + +"Ah, madame! I scarcely hoped you were coming." + +"Have you your sword?" + +"Yes, madame." + +"Where do you say those people came in?" + +"By this door." + +"At what time?" + +"At midnight each time." + +"There is no reason why they should not come again to-night. You have +not spoken to any one." + +"To no one." + +"Come into the thick wood, and let us watch, I have not spoken of this +to M. de Crosne. I have already mentioned this creature to him, and if +she be not arrested, he is either incapable, or in league with my +enemies. It seems incredible that any one should dare to play such +tricks under my eyes, unless they were sure of impunity. Therefore, I +think it is time to take the care of my reputation on myself. What do +you think?" + +"Oh, madame! allow me to be silent! I am ashamed of all I have said." + +"At least you are an honest man," replied the queen, "and speak to the +accused face to face. You do not stab in the dark." + +"Oh, madame, it is eleven o'clock! I tremble." + +"Look about, that no one is here." + +Charny obeyed. + +"No one," said he. + +"Where did the scenes pass that you have described?" + +"Oh, madame! I had a shock when I returned to you; for she stood just +where you are at this moment." + +"Here!" cried the queen, leaving the place with disgust. + +"Yes, madame; under the chestnut tree." + +"Then, sir, let us move, for they will most likely come here again." + +He followed the queen to a different place. She, silent and proud, +waited for the proof of her innocence to appear. Midnight struck. The +door did not open. Half an hour passed, during which the queen asked ten +times if they had always been punctual. + +Three-quarters struck--the queen stamped with impatience. "They will not +come," she cried; "these misfortunes only happen to me;" and she looked +at Charny, ready to quarrel with him, if she saw any expression of +triumph or irony: but he, as his suspicions began to return, grew so +pale and looked so melancholy, that he was like the figure of a martyr. + +At last she took his arm, and led him under the chestnut tree. "You +say," she murmured, "that it was here you saw her?" + +"Yes, madame." + +"Here that she gave the rose?" And the queen, fatigued and wearied with +waiting and disappointment leaned against the tree, and covered her face +with her hands, but Charny could see the tears stealing through. At last +she raised her head: + +"Sir," said she, "I am condemned. I promised to prove to you to-day that +I was calumniated; God does not permit it, and I submit. I have done +what no other woman, not to say queen, would have done. What a queen! +who cannot reign over one heart, who cannot obtain the esteem of one +honest man. Come, sir, give me your arm, if you do not despise me too +much." + +"Oh, madame!" cried he, falling at her feet, "if I were only an unhappy +man who loves you, could you not pardon me?" + +"You!" cried she, with a bitter laugh, "you love me! and believe me +infamous!" + +"Oh, madame!" + +"You accuse me of giving roses, kisses, and love. No, sir, no +falsehoods! you do not love me." + +"Madame, I saw these phantoms. Pity me, for I am on the rack." + +She took his hands. "Yes, you saw, and you think it was I. Well, if here +under this same tree, you at my feet, I press your hands, and say to +you, 'M, de Charny, I love you, I have loved, and shall love no one else +in this world, may God pardon me'--will that convince you? Will you +believe me then?" As she spoke, she came so close to him that he felt +her breath on his lips. "Oh!" cried Charny, "now I am ready to die." + +"Give me your arm," said she, "and teach me where they went, and where +she gave the rose,"--and she took from her bosom a rose and held it to +him. He took it and pressed it to his heart. + +"Then," continued she, "the other gave him her hand to kiss." + +"Both her hands," cried Charny, pressing his burning lips passionately +on hers. + +"Now they visited, the baths--so will we; follow me to the place." He +followed her, like a man in a strange, happy dream. They looked all +round, then opened the door, and walked through. Then they came out +again: two o'clock struck. "Adieu," said she; "go home until to-morrow." +And she walked away quickly towards the château. + +When they were gone, a man rose from among the bushes. He had heard and +seen all. + + + + +CHAPTER LXIX. + +THE CONGE. + + +The queen went to mass the next day, which was Sunday, smiling and +beautiful. When she woke in the morning she said, "It is a lovely day, +it makes me happy only to live." She seemed full of joy, and was +generous and gracious to every one. The road was lined as usual on her +return with ladies and gentlemen. Among them were Madame de la Motte and +M. de Charny, who was complimented by many friends on his return, and on +his radiant looks. Glancing round, he saw Philippe standing near him, +whom he had not seen since the day of the duel. + +"Gentlemen," said Charny, passing through the crowd, "allow me to fulfil +an act of politeness;" and, advancing towards Philippe, he said, "Allow +me, M. de Taverney, to thank you now for the interest you have taken in +my health. I shall have the honor to pay you a visit to-morrow. I trust +you preserve no enmity towards me." + +"None, sir," replied Philippe. + +Charny held out his hand, but Philippe, without seeming to notice it, +said, "Here comes the queen, sir." As she approached, she fixed her +looks on Charny with that rash openness which she always showed in her +affections, while she said to several gentlemen who were pressing round +her, "Ask me what you please, gentlemen, for to-day I can refuse +nothing." A voice said, "Madame." She turned, and saw Philippe, and thus +found herself between two men, of whom she almost reproached herself +with loving one too much and the other too little. + +"M. de Taverney, you have something to ask me; pray speak----" + +"Only ten minutes' audience at your majesty's leisure," replied he, with +grave solemnity. + +"Immediately, sir--follow me." A quarter of an hour after, Philippe was +introduced into the library, where the queen waited for him. + +"Ah! M. de Taverney, enter," said she in a gay tone, "and do not look so +sorrowful. Do you know I feel rather frightened whenever a Taverney asks +for an audience. Reassure me quickly, and tell me that you are not come +to announce a misfortune." + +"Madame, this time I only bring you good news." + +"Oh! some news." + +"Alas, yes, your majesty." + +"There! an 'alas' again." + +"Madame, I am about to assure your majesty that you need never again +fear to be saddened by the sight of a Taverney; for, madame, the last of +this family, to whom you once deigned to show some kindness, is about to +leave the court of France forever." + +The queen, dropping her gay tone, said, "You leave us?" + +"Yes, your majesty." + +"You also!" + +Philippe bowed. "My sister, madame, has already had that grief; I am +much more useless to your majesty." + +The queen started as she remembered that Andrée had asked for her congé +on the day following her first visit to Charny in the doctor's +apartments. "It is strange," she murmured, as Philippe remained +motionless as a statue, waiting his dismissal. At last she said +abruptly, "Where are you going?" + +"To join M. de la Pérouse, madame." + +"He is at Newfoundland." + +"I have prepared to join him there." + +"Do you know that a frightful death has been predicted for him?" + +"A speedy one," replied Philippe; "that is not necessarily a frightful +one." + +"And you are really going?" + +"Yes, madame, to share his fate." + +The queen was silent for a time, and then said, "Why do you go?" + +"Because I am anxious to travel." + +"But you have already made the tour of the world." + +"Of the New World, madame, but not of the Old." + +"A race of iron, with hearts of steel, are you Taverneys. You and your +sister are terrible people--you go not for the sake of traveling, but to +leave me. Your sister said she was called by religions duty; it was a +pretext. However, she wished to go, and she went. May she be happy! You +might be happy here, but you also wish to go away." + +"Spare us, I pray you, madame; if you could read our hearts, you would +find them full of unlimited devotion towards you." + +"Oh!" cried the queen, "you are too exacting; she takes the world for a +heaven, where one should only live as a saint; you look upon it as a +hell--and both fly from it; she because she finds what she does not +seek, and you because you do not find what you do seek. Am I not right? +Ah! M. de Taverney, allow human beings to be imperfect, and do not +expect royalty to be superhuman. Be more tolerant, or, rather, less +egotistical." She spoke earnestly, and continued: "All I know is, that I +loved Andrée, and that she left me; that I valued you, and you are about +to do the same. It is humiliating to see two such people abandon my +court." + +"Nothing can humiliate persons like your majesty. Shame does not reach +those placed so high." + +"What has wounded you?" asked the queen. + +"Nothing, madame." + +"Your rank has been raised, your fortune was progressing." + +"I can but repeat to your majesty that the court does not please me." + +"And if I ordered you to stay here?" + +"I should have the grief of disobeying your majesty." + +"Oh! I know," cried she impatiently, "you bear malice; you quarreled +with a gentleman here, M. de Charny, and wounded him; and because you +see him returned to-day, you are jealous, and wish to leave." + +Philippe turned pale, but replied, "Madame, I saw him sooner than you +imagine, for I met him at two o'clock this morning by the baths of +Apollo." + +It was now the queen's time to grow pale, but she felt a kind of +admiration for one who had retained so much courtesy and self-command in +the midst of his anger and grief. "Go," murmured she at length, in a +faint voice, "I will keep you no longer." + +Philippe bowed, and left the room, while the queen sank, terrified and +overwhelmed, on the sofa. + + + + +CHAPTER LXX. + +THE JEALOUSY OF THE CARDINAL. + + +The cardinal passed three nights very different to those when he went to +the park, and which he constantly lived over again in his memory. No +news of any one, no hope of a visit; nothing but a dead silence, and +perfect darkness, after such brightness and happiness. He began to fear +that, after all, his sacrifice had been displeasing to the queen. His +uneasiness became insupportable. He sent ten times in one day to Madame +de la Motte: the tenth messenger brought Jeanne to him. On seeing her he +cried out, "How! you live so tranquilly; you know my anxiety, and you, +my friend, never come near me." + +"Oh, monseigneur, patience, I beg. I have been far more useful to you at +Versailles than I could have been here." + +"Tell me," replied he, "what does she say? Is she less cruel?" + +"Absence is equal pain, whether borne at Versailles or at Paris." + +"Oh, I thank you, but the proofs----" + +"Proofs! Are you in your senses, monseigneur, to ask a woman for proofs +of her own infidelity?" + +"I am not speaking of proofs for a lawsuit, countess, only a token of +love." + +"It seems to me that you are either very exacting or very forgetful." + +"Oh! I know you will tell me that I might be more than satisfied. But +judge by yourself, countess; would you like to be thrown on one side, +after having received assurances of favor?" + +"Assurances!" + +"Oh, certainly, I have nothing to complain of, but still----" + +"I cannot be answerable for unreasonable discontents." + +"Countess, you treat me ill. Instead of reproaching me for my folly, you +should try to aid me." + +"I cannot aid you. I see nothing to do." + +"Nothing to do?" + +"No." + +"Well, madame, I do not say the same." + +"Ah, monseigneur, anger will not help you; and besides, you are unjust." + +"No, countess; if you do not assist me any longer, I know it is because +you cannot. Only tell me the truth at once." + +"What truth?" + +"That the queen is a perfidious coquette, who makes people adore her, +and then drives them to despair." + +Jeanne looked at him with an air of surprise, although she had expected +him to arrive at this state, and she felt really pleased, for she +thought that it would help her out of her difficult position. "Explain +yourself," she said. + +"Confess that the queen refuses to see me." + +"I do not say so, monseigneur." + +"She wishes to keep me away lest I should rouse the suspicions of some +other lover." + +"Ah, monseigneur!" cried Jeanne in a tone which gave him liberty to +suspect anything. + +"Listen," continued he; "the last time I saw her, I thought I heard +steps in the wood----" + +"Folly!" + +"And I suspect----" + +"Say no more, monseigneur. It is an insult to the queen; besides, even +if it were true that she fears the surveillance of another lover, why +should you reproach her with a past which she has sacrificed to you?" + +"But if this past be again a present, and about to be a future?" + +"Fie, monseigneur, your suspicions are offensive both to the queen and +to me." + +"Then, countess, bring me a proof--does she love me at all?" + +"It is very simple," replied Jeanne, pointing to his writing table, "to +ask her." + +"You will give her a note?" + +"Who else would, if not I?" + +"And you will bring me an answer?" + +"If possible." + +"Ah! now you are a good creature, countess." + +He sat down, but though he was an eloquent writer, he commenced and +destroyed a dozen sheets of paper before he satisfied himself. + +"If you go on so, you will never have done," said Jeanne. + +"You see, countess, I fear my own tenderness, lest I displease the +queen." + +"Oh," replied Jeanne, "if you write a business letter, you will get one +in reply. That is your own affair." + +"You are right, countess; you always see what is best." He then wrote a +letter, so full of loving reproaches and ardent protestations, that +Jeanne, when he gave it to her to read, thought, "He has written of his +own accord what I never should have dared to dictate." + +"Will it do?" asked he. + +"If she loves you. You will see to-morrow: till then be quiet." + +"Till to-morrow, then." + +On her return home Jeanne gave way to her reflections. This letter was +just what she wanted. How could the cardinal ever accuse her, when he +was called on to pay for the necklace? Even admitting that the queen and +cardinal met, and that everything was explained, how could they turn +against her while she held in her hands such proofs of a scandalous +secret? No, they must let her go quietly off with her fortune of a +million and a half of francs. They would know she had stolen the +diamonds, but they never would publish all this affair; and if one +letter was not enough, she would have seven or eight. The first +explosion would come from the jewelers, who would claim their money. +Then she must confess to M. de Rohan, and make him pay by threatening to +publish his letters. Surely they would purchase the honor of a queen and +a prince at the price of a million and a half! The jewelers once paid, +that question was at an end; Jeanne felt sure of her fortune. She knew +that the cardinal had a conviction so firm that nothing could shake it, +that he had met the queen. There was but one living witness against her, +and that one she would soon cause to disappear. Arrived at this point, +she went to the window and saw Oliva, who was watching in her balcony. +She made the accustomed sign for her to come down, and Oliva replied +joyfully. The great thing now was to get rid of her. To destroy the +instrument that has served them is the constant endeavor of those who +intrigue; but here it is that they generally fail; they do not succeed +in doing so before there has been time to disclose the secret. Jeanne +knew that Oliva would not be easy to get rid of, unless she could think +of something that would induce her to fly willingly. Oliva, on her part, +much as she enjoyed her nocturnal promenades at first, after so much +confinement, was already beginning to weary of them, and to sigh once +more for liberty and Beausire. + +The night came, and they went out together; Oliva disguised under a +large cloak and hood, and Jeanne dressed as a grisette; besides which +the carriage bore the respectable arms of Valois, which prevented the +police, who alone might have recognized Oliva, from searching it. + +"Oh! I have been so ennuyée," cried Oliva, "I have been expecting you so +long." + +"It was impossible to come and see you, I should have run, and made you +run, a great danger." + +"How so?" said Oliva, astonished. + +"A terrible danger at which I still tremble. You know how ennuyée you +were, and how much you wished to go out." + +"Yes; and you assisted me like a friend." + +"Certainly; I proposed that we should have some amusement with that +officer who is rather mad, and in love with the queen, whom you resemble +a little; and endeavor to persuade him that it was the queen he was +walking with." + +"Yes," said Oliva. + +"The first two nights you walked in the park, and you played your part +to perfection; he was quite taken in." + +"Yes," said Oliva, "but it was almost a pity to deceive him, poor +fellow, he was so delightful." + +"Yes, but the evil is not there. To give a man a rose, to let him kiss +your hands, and call you 'your majesty,' was all good fun; but, my +little Oliva, it seems you did not stop here." + +Oliva colored. + +"How?" stammered she. + +"There was a third interview." + +"Yes," replied Oliva, hastily, "you know, for you were there." + +"Excuse me, dear friend; I was there, but at a distance. I neither saw +nor heard what passed within, I only know what you told me, that he +talked and kissed your hands." + +"Oh, mon Dieu!" murmured Oliva. + +"You surely could not have exposed us both to such a terrible danger +without telling me of it." + +Oliva trembled from head to foot. + +Jeanne continued. "How could I imagine that you, who said you loved M. +Beausire, and were courted by a man like Count Cagliostro, whom you +refused; oh! it cannot be true." + +"But where is the danger?" asked Oliva. + +"The danger! Have we not to manage a madman, one who fears nothing, and +will not be controlled. It was no great thing for the queen to give him +her hand to kiss or to give him a rose; oh, my dear child, I have not +smiled since I heard this." + +"What do you fear?" asked Oliva, her teeth chattering with terror. + +"Why, as you are not the queen, and have taken her name, and in her name +have committed a folly of this kind, that is unfortunately treason. He +has no proof of this--they may be satisfied with a prison or +banishment." + +"A prison! banishment!" shrieked Oliva. + +"I, at least, intend to take precautions and hide myself." + +"You fear also?" + +"Oh! will not this madman divulge my share also? My poor Oliva, this +trick of yours will cost us dear." + +Oliva burst into tears. + +"Oh!" she cried, "I think I am possessed of a demon, that I can never +rest: just saved from one danger, I must rush into another. Suppose I +confess all to my protector?" + +"A fine story to confess to him, whose advances you refused, that you +have committed this imprudence with a stranger." + +"Mon Dieu! you are right." + +"Soon this report will spread, and will reach his ears; then do you not +think he will give you up to the police? Even if he only send you away, +what will become of you?" + +"Oh! I am lost." + +"And M. Beausire, when he shall hear this----?" + +Oliva started, and wringing her hands violently, cried out, "Oh, he +would kill me; but no, I will kill myself. You cannot save me, since you +are compromised also." + +"I have," replied Jeanne, "in the furthest part of Picardy, a little +farm. If you can gain this refuge, you might be safe." + +"But you?" + +"Oh, once you were gone, I should not fear him." + +"I will go whenever you like." + +"I think you are wise." + +"Must I go at once?" + +"Wait till I have prepared everything to insure safety; meanwhile, hide +yourself, and do not come near the window." + +"Oh yes, dear friend." + +"And to begin, let us go home, as there is no more to say." + +"How long will your preparations take?" + +"I do not know, but remember henceforth, until the day of your departure +I shall not come to the window. When you see me there, you will know +that the day has arrived, and be prepared." + +They returned in silence. On arriving, Oliva begged pardon humbly of her +friend for bringing her into so much danger through her folly. + +"I am a woman," replied Jeanne, "and can pardon a woman's weakness." + + + + +CHAPTER LXXI. + +THE FLIGHT. + + +Oliva kept her promise, and Jeanne also. Oliva hid herself from every +one, and Jeanne made her preparations, and in a few days made her +appearance at the window as a sign to Oliva to be ready that evening for +flight. + +Oliva, divided between joy and terror, began immediately to prepare. +Jeanne went to arrange about the carriage that was to convey her away. +Eleven o'clock at night had just struck when Jeanne arrived with a +post-chaise to which three strong horses were harnessed. A man wrapped +in a cloak sat on the box, directing the postilions. Jeanne made them +stop at the corner of the street, saying, "Remain here--half an hour +will suffice--and then I will bring the person whom you are to conduct +with all possible speed to Amiens. There you will give her into the care +of the farmer who is my tenant; he has his instructions." + +"Yes, madame." + +"I forgot--are you armed? This lady is menaced by a madman; he might, +perhaps, try to stop her on the road." + +"What should I do?" + +"Fire on any one who tries to impede your journey." + +"Yes, madame." + +"You asked me seventy louis; I will give you a hundred, and will pay the +expenses of the voyage which you had better make to London. Do not +return here; it is more prudent for you to go to St. Valery, and embark +at once for England." + +"Rely on me, madame." + +"Well, I will go and bring the lady." + +All seemed asleep in that quiet house. Jeanne lighted the lamp which was +to be the signal to Oliva, but received no answering sign. "She will +come down in the dark," thought Jeanne; and she went to the door, but it +did not open. Oliva was perhaps bringing down her packages. "The fool!" +murmured the countess, "how much time she is wasting over her rubbish!" +She waited a quarter of an hour--no one came; then half-past eleven +struck. "Perhaps she did not see my signal," thought Jeanne; and she +went up and lighted it again, but it was not acknowledged. "She must be +ill," cried Jeanne, in a rage, "and cannot move." Then she took the key +which Oliva had given her; but just as she was about to open the door, +she thought, "Suppose some one should be there? But I should hear voices +on the staircase, and could return. I must risk something." She went up, +and on arriving outside Oliva's door she saw a light inside and heard +footsteps, but no voices. "It is all right," she thought; "she was only +a long time getting ready." "Oliva," said she softly, "open the door." +The door opened, and Jeanne found herself face to face with a man +holding a torch in his hand. + +"Oliva," said he, "is this you?" Then, with a tone of admirably-feigned +surprise, cried, "Madame de la Motte!" + +"M. de Cagliostro!" said she in terror, feeling half inclined to run +away; but he took her hand politely, and begged her to sit down. + +"To what do I owe the honor of this visit, madame?" + +"Monsieur," said she, stammering, "I came--I sought----" + +"Allow me, madame, to inquire which of my servants was guilty of the +rudeness of letting you come up unattended?" + +Jeanne trembled. + +"You must have fallen to the lot of my stupid German porter, who is +always tipsy." + +"Do not scold him, I beg you, sir," replied Jeanne, who could hardly +speak. + +"But was it he?" + +"I believe so. But you promise me not to scold him?" + +"I will not; only, madame, will you now explain to me----" + +Jeanne began to gather courage. + +"I came to consult you, sir, about certain reports." + +"What reports?" + +"Do not hurry me, sir; it is a delicate subject." + +"Ah! you want time to invent," thought he. + +"You are a friend of M. le Cardinal de Rohan?" + +"I am acquainted with him, madame." + +"Well, I came to ask you----" + +"What?" + +"Oh, sir, you must know that he has shown me much kindness, and I wish +to know if I may rely upon it. You understand me, sir? You read all +hearts." + +"You must be a little more explicit before I can assist you, madame." + +"Monsieur, they say that his eminence loves elsewhere in a high +quarter." + +"Madame, allow me first to ask you one question. How did you come to +seek me here, since I do not live here?" Jeanne trembled. "How did you +get in?--for there are neither porter nor servants in this part of my +hotel. It could not be me you sought here--who was it? You do not reply; +I must aid you a little. You came in by the help of a key which you have +now in your pocket. You came to seek a young woman whom from pure +kindness I had concealed here." + +Jeanne trembled visibly, but replied, "If it were so, it is no crime; +one woman is permitted to visit another. Call her; she will tell you if +my friendship is a hurtful one." + +"Madame, you say that because you know she is not here." + +"Not here! Oliva not here?" + +"Oh you do not know that--you, who helped her to escape!" + +"I!" cried Jeanne; "you accuse me of that?" + +"I convict you," replied Cagliostro; and he took a paper from the table, +and showed her the following words, addressed to himself: + + "MONSIEUR, and my generous protector, forgive me for leaving you; + but above all things I love M. Beausire. He came and I follow him. + Adieu! Believe in my gratitude!" + +"Beausire!" cried Jeanne, petrified; "he, who did not even know her +address?" + +"Oh, madame, here is another paper, which was doubtless dropped by M. +Beausire." The countess read, shuddering: + + "M. Beausire will find Mademoiselle Oliva, Rue St. Claude, at the + corner of the boulevard. He had better come for her at once; it is + time. This is the advice of a sincere friend." + +"Oh!" groaned the countess. + +"And he has taken her away," said Cagliostro. + +"But who wrote this note?" + +"Doubtless yourself." + +"But how did he get in?" + +"Probably with your key." + +"But as I have it here, he could not have it." + +"Whoever has one can easily have two." + +"You are convinced," replied she, "while I can only suspect." She turned +and went away, but found the staircase lighted and filled with +men-servants. Cagliostro called out loudly before them, "Madame la +Comtesse de la Motte!" She went out full of rage and disappointment. + + + + +CHAPTER LXXII. + +THE LETTER AND THE RECEIPT. + + +The day arrived for the payment of the first 500,000 francs. The +jewelers had prepared a receipt, but no one came with the money in +exchange for it. They passed the day and night in a state of cruel +anxiety. The following day M. Boehmer went to Versailles, and asked to +see the queen; he was told that he could not be admitted without a +letter of audience. However, he begged so hard, and urged his +solicitations so well among the servants, that they consented to place +him in the queen's way when she went out. Marie Antoinette, still full +of joy from her interview with Charny, came along, looking bright and +happy, when she caught sight of the somewhat solemn face of M. +Boehmer. She smiled on him, which he took for a favorable sign, and +asked for an audience, which was promised him for two o'clock. On his +return to Bossange, they agreed that no doubt the money was all right, +only the queen had been unable to send it the day before. At two o'clock +Boehmer returned to Versailles. + +"What is it now, M. Boehmer?" asked the queen, as he entered. +Boehmer thought some one must be listening, and looked cautiously +around him. + +"Have you any secret to tell?" asked the queen, in surprise. "The same +as before, I suppose--some jewels to sell. But make yourself easy; no +one can hear you." + +"Ahem!" murmured Boehmer, startled at his reception. + +"Well, what?" + +"Then I may speak out to your majesty?" + +"Anything; only be quick." + +"I only wished to say that your majesty probably forgot us yesterday." + +"Forgot you! what do you mean?" + +"Yesterday the sum was due----" + +"What sum?" + +"Pardon me, your majesty, if I am indiscreet. Perhaps your majesty is +not prepared. It would be a misfortune; but still----" + +"But," interrupted the queen, "I do not understand a word of what you +are saying. Pray explain yourself." + +"Yesterday the first payment for the necklace was due." + +"Have you sold it, then?" + +"Certainly, your majesty," replied Boehmer, looking stupefied. + +"And those to whom you have sold it have not paid, my poor Boehmer? So +much the worse; but they must do as I did, and, if they cannot pay, send +it you back again." + +The jeweler staggered like a man who had just had a sunstroke. "I do not +understand your majesty," he said. + +"Why, Boehmer, if ten purchasers were each to send it back, and give +you 100,000 francs, as I did, you would make a million, and keep your +necklace also." + +"Your majesty says," cried Boehmer, ready to drop, "that you sent me +back the necklace!" + +"Certainly. What is the matter?" + +"What! your majesty denies having bought the necklace?" + +"Ah! what comedy is this, sir?" said the queen, severely. "Is this +unlucky necklace destined to turn some one's brain?" + +"But did your majesty really say that you had returned the necklace?" + +"Happily," replied the queen, "I can refresh your memory, as you are so +forgetful, to say nothing more." She went to her secretaire, and, taking +out the receipt, showed it to him, saying, "I suppose this is clear +enough?" + +Boehmer's expression changed from incredulity to terror. "Madame," +cried he, "I never signed this receipt!" + +"You deny it!" said the queen, with flashing eyes. + +"Positively, if I lose my life for it. I never received the necklace; I +never signed the receipt. Were the headsman here, or the gallows, I +would repeat the same thing!" + +"Then, sir," said the queen, "do you think I have robbed you? do you +think I have your necklace?" + +Boehmer drew out a pocket-book, and in his turn produced a letter. "I +do not believe," said he, "that if your majesty had wished to return the +necklace, you would have written this." + +"I write! I never wrote to you; that is not my writing." + +"It is signed," said Boehmer. + +"Yes, 'Marie Antoinette of France.' You are mad! Do you think that is +the way I sign? I am of Austria. Go, M. Boehmer; you have played this +game unskilfully; your forgers have not understood their work." + +"My forgers!" cried the poor Boehmer, ready to faint at this new blow. +"You suspect me?" + +"You accuse me, Marie Antoinette?" replied she. + +"But this letter?" + +"This receipt? Give it me back, and take your letter; the first lawyer +you ask will tell you how much that is worth." And taking the receipt +from his trembling hands, and throwing the letter indignantly down, she +left the room. + +The unfortunate man ran to communicate this dreadful blow to his +partner, who was waiting in the carriage for him; and on their way home +their gestures and cries of grief were so frantic as to attract the +attention of every passer-by. At last they decided to return to +Versailles. + +Immediately they presented themselves they were admitted by the order of +the queen. + + + + +CHAPTER LXXIII. + +"Roi ne puis, prince ne daigne, +Rohan je suis."[B] + +[B] The motto of the Rohans. + + +"Ah!" cried the queen, immediately they entered, "you have brought a +reinforcement, M. Boehmer; so much the better." + +Boehmer kneeled at her feet, and Bossange followed his example. + +"Gentlemen," said she, "I have now grown calm, and an idea has come into +my head which has modified my opinion with regard to you. It seems to me +that we have both been duped." + +"Ah, madame, you suspect me no longer. Forger was a dreadful word." + +"No, I do not suspect you now." + +"Does your majesty suspect any one else?" + +"Reply to my questions. You say you have not these diamonds?" + +"No, madame, we have not." + +"It then matters little to you that I sent them--that is my affair. Did +you not see Madame de la Motte?" + +"Yes, madame." + +"And she gave you nothing from me?" + +"No, madame; she only said to us, 'Wait.'" + +"But this letter--who brought it?" + +"An unknown messenger, during the night." + +She rang, and a servant entered. + +"Send for Madame de la Motte. And," continued the queen to M. Boehmer, +"did you see M. de Rohan?" + +"Yes, madame; he paid us a visit in order to ask." + +"Good!" said the queen. "I wish to hear no more now; but if he be mixed +up with this affair, I think you need not despair. I think I can guess +what Madame de la Motte meant by saying 'Wait.' Meanwhile, go to M. de +Rohan, and tell him all you have told us, and that I know it." + +The jewelers had a renewed spark of hope; only Bossange said that the +receipt was a false one, and that that was a crime. + +"True," replied Marie Antoinette, "if you did not write it, it is a +crime; but to prove this I must confront you with the person whom I +charged to return you the jewels." + +"Whenever your majesty pleases; we do not fear the test." + +"Go first to M. de Rohan; he alone can enlighten you." + +"And will your majesty permit us to bring you his answer?" + +"Yes; but I dare say I shall know all before you do." + +When they were gone she was restless and unquiet, and despatched courier +after courier for Madame de la Motte. + +We will, however, leave her for the present, and follow the jewelers in +their search after the truth. + +The cardinal was at home, reading, with a rage impossible to describe, a +little note which Madame de la Motte had just sent him, as she said, +from Versailles. It was harsh, forbidding any hope, ordering him to +think no more of the past, not to appear again at Versailles, and ending +with an appeal to his loyalty not to attempt to renew relations which +were become impossible. + +"Coquette, capricious, perfidious!" cried he. "Here are four letters +which she has written to me, each more unjust and tyrannical than the +other. She encouraged me only for a caprice, and now sacrifices me to a +new one." + +It was at this moment that the jewelers presented themselves. Three +times he refused them admittance, and each time the servant came back, +saying that they would not go without an audience. "Let them come in, +then," said he. + +"What means this rudeness, gentlemen? No one owes you anything here." + +The jewelers, driven to despair, made a half-menacing gesture. + +"Are you mad?" asked the cardinal. + +"Monseigneur," replied Boehmer, with a sigh, "do us justice, and do +not compel us to be rude to an illustrious prince." + +"Either you are not mad, in which case my servants shall throw you out +of the window; or you are mad, and they shall simply push you out of the +door." + +"Monseigneur, we are not mad, but we have been robbed." + +"What is that to me? I am not lieutenant of police." + +"But you have had the necklace in your hands, and in justice----" + +"The necklace! is it the necklace that is stolen?" + +"Yes, monseigneur." + +"Well, what does the queen say about it?" + +"She sent me to you." + +"She is very amiable; but what can I do, my poor fellows?" + +"You can tell us, monseigneur, what has been done with it." + +"I?" + +"Doubtless." + +"Do you think I stole the necklace from the queen?" + +"It is not the queen from whom it was stolen." + +"Mon Dieu! from whom, then?" + +"The queen denies having had it in her possession." + +"How! she denies it? But I thought you had an acknowledgment from her." + +"She says it is a forged one." + +"Decidedly, you are mad!" cried the cardinal. + +"We simply speak the truth." + +"Then she denied it because some one was there." + +"No, monseigneur. And this is not all: not only does the queen deny her +own acknowledgment, but she produced a receipt from us, purporting that +we had received back the necklace." + +"A receipt from you?" + +"Which also is a forgery, M. le Cardinal--you know it." + +"A forgery, and I know it!" + +"Assuredly, for you came to confirm what Madame de la Motte had said; +and you knew that we had sold the necklace to the queen." + +"Come," said the cardinal, "this seems a serious affair. This is what I +did: first, I bought the necklace of you for her majesty, and paid you +100,000 francs." + +"True, monseigneur." + +"Afterwards you told me that the queen had acknowledged the debt in +writing, and fixed the periods of payment." + +"We said so. Will your eminence look at this signature?" + +He looked at it, and said directly, "'Marie Antoinette of France:' you +have been deceived, gentlemen; this is not her signature; she is of the +House of Austria." + +"Then," cried the jewelers, "Madame de la Motte must know the forger and +the robber." + +The cardinal appeared struck with this. He acted like the queen; he +rang, and said, "Send for Madame de la Motte." His servants went after +Jeanne's carriage, which had not long left the hotel. + +M. Boehmer continued, "But where is the necklace?" + +"How can I tell?" cried the cardinal; "I gave it to the queen. I know no +more." + +"We must have our necklace, or our money," cried the jewelers. + +"Gentlemen, this is not my business." + +"It is Madame de la Motte," cried they in despair, "who has ruined us." + +"I forbid you to accuse her here." + +"Some one must be guilty; some one wrote the forged papers." + +"Was it I?" asked M. de Rohan, haughtily. + +"Monseigneur, we do not wish to say so." + +"Well, who then?" + +"Monseigneur, we desire an explanation." + +"Wait till I have one myself." + +"But, monseigneur, what are we to say to the queen? For she accused us +at first." + +"What does she say now?" + +"She says that either you or Madame de la Motte has the necklace, for +she has not." + +"Well," replied the cardinal, pale with rage and shame, "go and tell +her--no, tell her nothing; there is scandal enough. But to-morrow I +officiate at the chapel at Versailles: when I approach the queen, come +to us; I will ask her again if she has the necklace, and you shall hear +what she replies; if she denies it before me, then, gentlemen, I am a +Rohan, and will pay." And with these words, pronounced with an +indescribable dignity, he dismissed them. + + + + +CHAPTER LXXIV. + +LOVE AND DIPLOMACY. + + +The next morning, about ten o'clock, a carriage bearing the arms of M. +de Breteuil entered Versailles. Our readers will not have forgotten that +this gentleman was a personal enemy of M. de Rohan, and had long been on +the watch for an opportunity of injuring him. He now requested an +audience from the king, and was admitted. + +"It is a beautiful day," said Louis to his minister; "there is not a +cloud in the sky." + +"Sire, I am sorry to bring with me a cloud on your tranquillity." + +"So am I," replied the king, "but what is it?" + +"I feel very much embarrassed, sire, more especially as, perhaps, this +affair naturally concerns the lieutenant of police rather than myself, +for it is a sort of theft." + +"A theft! well, speak out." + +"Sire, your majesty knows the diamond necklace?" + +"M. Boehmer's, which the queen refused?" + +"Precisely, sire," said M. de Breteuil; and ignorant of all the mischief +he was about to do, he continued, "and this necklace has been stolen." + +"Ah! so much the worse. But diamonds are very easy to trace." + +"But, sire, this is not an ordinary theft; it is pretended that the +queen has kept the necklace." + +"Why, she refused it in my presence." + +"Sire, I did not use the right word; the calumnies are too gross." + +"Ah!" said the king with a smile, "I suppose they say now that the queen +has stolen the necklace." + +"Sire," replied M. Breteuil, "they say that the queen recommenced the +negotiation for the purchase privately, and that the jewelers hold a +paper signed by her, acknowledging that she kept it. I need not tell +your majesty how much I despise all such scandalous falsehoods." + +"They say this!" said the king, turning pale. "What do they not say? Had +the queen really bought it afterwards, I should not have blamed her. She +is a woman, and the necklace is marvelously beautiful; and, thank God, +she could still afford it, if she wished for it. I shall only blame her +for one thing, for hiding her wishes from me. But that has nothing to do +with the king, only with the husband. A husband may scold his wife if he +pleases, and no one has a right to interfere. But then," continued he, +"what do you mean by a robbery?" + +"Oh! I fear I have made your majesty angry." + +The king laughed. "Come, tell me all; tell me even that the queen sold +the necklace to the Jews. Poor woman, she is often in want of money, +oftener than I can give it to her." + +"Exactly so; about two months ago the queen asked for 500,000 francs, +and your majesty refused it." + +"True." + +"Well, sire, they say that this money was to have been the first payment +for the necklace. The queen, being denied the money, could not pay----" + +"Well!" + +"Well, sire, they say the queen applied to some one to help her." + +"To a Jew?" + +"No, sire; not to a Jew." + +"Oh! I guess, some foreign intrigue. The queen asked her mother, or some +of her family, for money." + +"It would have been better if she had, sire." + +"Well, to whom, then, did she apply?" + +"Sire, I dare not----" + +"Monsieur, I am tired of this. I order you to speak out at once. Who +lent this money to the queen?" + +"M. de Rohan." + +"M. de Rohan! Are you not ashamed to name to me the most embarrassed man +in my kingdom?" + +"Sire," said M. de Breteuil, lowering his eyes. + +"M. de Breteuil, your manner annoys me. If you have anything to say, +speak at once." + +"Sire, I cannot bring myself to utter things so compromising to the +honor of my king and queen." + +"Speak, sir; if there are calumnies, they must be refuted." + +"Then, sire, M. de Rohan went to the jewelers, and arranged for the +purchase of the necklace, and the mode of payment." + +"Really!" cried the king, annoyed and angry. + +"It is a fact, sire, capable of being proved with the greatest +certainty. I pledge my word for this." + +"This is most annoying," said the king; "but still, sir, we have not +heard of a theft." + +"Sire, the jewelers say that they have a receipt signed by the queen, +and she denies having the necklace." + +"Ah!" cried the king, with renewed hope; "she denies it, you see, M. de +Breteuil." + +"Oh, sire! I never doubted her majesty's innocence. I am indeed +unfortunate, if your majesty does not see all my respect for the purest +of women." + +"Then you only accuse M. de Rohan?" + +"Yes, sire. And appearances demand some inquiry into his conduct. The +queen says she has not the necklace--the jewelers say they sold it to +her. It is not to be found, and the word 'theft' is used as connected +both with the queen and M. de Rohan." + +"You are right, M. de Breteuil; this affair must be cleared up. But who +is that passing below? Is it not M. de Rohan going to the chapel?" + +"Not yet, sire; he does not come till eleven o'clock, and he will be +dressed in his robes, for he officiates to-day." + +"Then I will send for him and speak to him." + +"Permit me to advise your majesty to speak first to the queen." + +"Yes, she will tell me the truth." + +"Doubtless, sire." + +"But first tell me all you know about it." + +M. de Breteuil, with ingenious hate, mentioned every particular which he +thought could injure M. de Rohan. They were interrupted by an officer, +who approached the king, and said, "Sire, the queen begs you will come +to her." + +"What is it?" asked the king, turning pale. "Wait here, M. de Breteuil." + + + + +CHAPTER LXXV. + +CHARNY, CARDINAL, AND QUEEN. + + +At the same moment as M. de Breteuil asked for an audience of the king, +M. de Charny, pale and agitated, begged one of the queen. He was +admitted, and touching tremblingly the hand she held out to him, said in +an agitated voice, "Oh! madame, what a misfortune!" + +"What is the matter?" + +"Do you know what I have just heard? What the king has perhaps already +heard, or will hear to-morrow." + +She trembled, for she thought of her night with Charny, and fancied they +had been seen. "Speak," said she; "I am strong." + +"They say, madame, that you bought a necklace from M. Boehmer." + +"I returned it," said she quickly. + +"But they say that you only pretended to do so, when the king prevented +you from paying for it by refusing you the money, and that you went to +borrow the amount from some one else, who is your lover." + +"And," cried the queen, with her usual impetuous confidence, "you, +monsieur--you let them say that?" + +"Madame, yesterday I went to M. Boehmer's with my uncle, who had +brought some diamonds from the Indies, and wished to have them valued. +There we heard this frightful story now being spread abroad by your +majesty's enemies. Madame, I am in despair; if you bought the necklace, +tell me; if you have not paid, tell me; but do not let me hear that M. +de Rohan paid for you." + +"M. de Rohan!" + +"Yes, M. de Rohan, whom they call your lover--whom they say lent the +money--and whom an unhappy man, called Charny, saw in the park in +Versailles, kneeling before the queen, and kissing her hand." + +"Monsieur," cried Marie Antoinette, "if you believe these things when +you leave me, you do not love me." + +"Oh!" cried the young man, "the danger presses. I come to beg you to do +me a favor." + +"What danger?" + +"Oh, madame! the cardinal paying for the queen dishonors her. I do not +speak now of the grief such a confidence in him causes to me. No; of +these things one dies, but does not complain." + +"You are mad!" cried Marie Antoinette, in anger. + +"I am not mad, madame, but you are unhappy and lost. I saw you in the +park--I told you so--I was not deceived. To-day all the horrible truth +has burst out. M. de Rohan boasts, perhaps----" + +The queen seized his arm. "You are mad," repeated she, with +inexpressible anguish. "Believe anything--believe the impossible--but, +in the name of heaven, after all I have said to you, do not believe me +guilty. I, who never even thought of you without praying to God to +pardon me for my fault. Oh, M. de Charny! if you do not wish to kill me, +do not tell me that you think me guilty." + +Charny wrung his hands with anguish. "Listen," said he, "if you wish me +to serve you efficaciously." + +"A service from you?--from you, more cruel than my enemies? A service +from a man who despises me? Never, sir--never." + +Charny approached, and took her hands in his. "This evening it will be +too late. Save me from despair, by saving yourself from shame." + +"Monsieur!" + +"Oh, I cannot pick my words with death, before me! If you do not listen +to me, we shall both die; you from shame, and I from grief. You want +money to pay for this necklace." + +"I?" + +"Do not deny it." + +"I tell you----" + +"Do not tell me that you have not the necklace." + +"I swear!" + +"Do not swear, if you wish me to love you. There remains one way to save +at once your honor and my love. The necklace is worth 1,600,000 +francs--you have paid 100,000. Here is the remainder; take it, and pay." + +"You have sold your possessions--you have ruined yourself for me! Good +and noble heart, I love you!" + +"Then you accept?" + +"No; but I love you." + +"And let M. de Rohan pay. Remember, madame, this would be no generosity +towards me, but the refinement of cruelty." + +"M. de Charny, I am a queen. I give to my subjects, but do not accept +from them." + +"What do you mean to do, then?" + +"You are frank. What do the jewelers say?" + +"That as you cannot pay, M. de Rohan will pay for you." + +"What does the public say?" + +"That you have the necklace hidden, and will produce it when it shall +have been paid for; either by the cardinal, in his love for you, or by +the king, to prevent scandal." + +"And you, Charny; in your turn, I ask, what do you say?" + +"I think, madame, that you have need to prove your innocence to me." + +The Prince Louis, Cardinal de Rohan, was at that moment announced by an +usher. + +"You shall have your wish," said the queen. + +"You are going to receive him?" + +"Yes." + +"And I?" + +"Go into my boudoir, and leave the door ajar, that you may hear. Be +quick--here he is." + +M. de Rohan appeared in his robes of office. The queen advanced towards +him, attempting a smile, which died away on her lips. + +He was serious, and said, "Madame, I have several important things to +communicate to you, although you shun my presence." + +"I shun you so little, monsieur, that I was about to send for you." + +"Am I alone with your majesty?" said he, in a low voice. "May I speak +freely?" + +"Perfectly, monseigneur. Do not constrain yourself," said she aloud, for +M. de. Charny to hear. + +"The king will not come?" + +"Have no fear of the king, or any one else." + +"Oh, it is yourself I fear," said he, in a moved voice. + +"Well, I am not formidable. Say quickly and openly what you have to say. +I like frankness, and want no reserve. They say you complain of me; what +have you to reproach me with?" + +The cardinal sighed. + + + + +CHAPTER LXXVI. + +EXPLANATIONS. + + +"Madame," said the cardinal, bowing, "you know what is passing +concerning the necklace?" + +"No, monsieur; I wish to learn it from you." + +"Why has your majesty for so long only deigned to communicate with me +through another? If you have any reason to hate me, why not explain it?" + +"I do not know what you mean. I do not hate you; but that is not, I +think, the subject of our interview. I wish to hear all about this +unlucky necklace; but first, where is Madame de la Motte?" + +"I was about to ask your majesty the same question." + +"Really, monsieur, if any one knows, I think it ought to be you." + +"I, madame! why?" + +"Oh! I do not wish to receive your confessions about her, but I wish to +speak to her, and have sent for her ten times without receiving any +answer." + +"And I, madame, am astonished at her disappearance, for I also sent to +ask her to come, and, like your majesty, received no answer." + +"Then let us leave her, monsieur, and speak of ourselves." + +"Oh no, madame; let us speak of her first, for a few words of your +majesty's gave me a painful suspicion; it seemed to me that your majesty +reproached me with my assiduities to her." + +"I have not reproached you at all, sir." + +"Oh! madame, such a suspicion would explain all to me; then I should +understand all your rigor towards me, which I have hitherto found so +inexplicable." + +"Here we cease to understand each other, and I beg of you not to still +further involve in obscurity what I wished you to explain to me." + +"Madame," cried the cardinal, clasping his hands, "I entreat you not to +change the subject; allow me only two words more, and I am sure we shall +understand each other." + +"Really, sir, you speak in language that I do not understand. Pray +return to plain French; where is the necklace that I returned to the +jewelers?" + +"The necklace that you sent back?" + +"Yes; what have you done with it?" + +"I! I do not know, madame." + +"Listen, and one thing is simple; Madame de la Motte took away the +necklace, and returned it to the jewelers in my name. The jewelers say +they never had it, and I hold in my hands a receipt which proves the +contrary; but they say the receipt is forged; Madame de la Motte, if +sincere, could explain all, but as she is not to be found, I can but +conjecture. She wished to return it, but you, who had always the +generous wish to present me the necklace, you, who brought it to me, +with the offer to pay for it----" + +"Which your majesty refused." + +"Yes. Well, you have persevered in your idea, and you kept back the +necklace, hoping to return it to me at some other time. Madame de la +Motte was weak; she knew my inability to pay for it, and my +determination not to keep it when I could not pay; she therefore entered +into a conspiracy with you. Have I guessed right? Say yes. Let me +believe in this slight disobedience to my orders, and I promise you both +pardon; so let Madame de la Motte come out from her hiding-place. But, +for pity's sake, let there be perfect clearness and openness, monsieur. +A cloud rests over me; I will have it dispersed." + +"Madame," replied the cardinal, with a sigh, "unfortunately it is not +true. I did not persevere in my idea, for I believed the necklace was in +your own hands; I never conspired with Madame de la Motte about it, and +I have it no more than you say you or the jewelers have it." + +"Impossible! you have not got it?" + +"No, madame." + +"Is it not you who hide it?" + +"No, madame." + +"You do not know what has become of it?" + +"No, madame." + +"But, then, how do you explain its disappearance?" + +"I do not pretend to explain it, madame; and, moreover, it is not the +first time that I have had to complain that your majesty did not +understand me." + +"How, sir?" + +"Pray, madame, have the goodness to retrace my letters in your memory." + +"Your letters!--you have written to me?" + +"Too seldom, madame, to express all that was in my heart." + +The queen rose. + +"Terminate this jesting, sir. What do you mean by letters? How can you +dare to say such things?" + +"Ah! madame, perhaps I have allowed myself to speak too freely the +secret of my soul." + +"What secret? Are you in your senses, monsieur?" + +"Madame!" + +"Oh! speak out. You speak now like a man who wishes to embarrass one +before witnesses." + +"Madame, is there really any one listening to us?" + +"No, monsieur. Explain yourself, and prove to me, if you can, that you +are in your right senses." + +"Oh! why is not Madame de la Motte here? she could aid me to reawaken, +if not your majesty's attachment, at least your memory." + +"My attachment! my memory!" + +"Ah, madame," cried he, growing excited, "spare me, I beg. It is free to +you to love no longer, but do not insult me." + +"Ah, mon Dieu!" cried the queen, turning pale: "hear what this man +says." + +"Well, madame," said he, getting still more excited, "I think I have +been sufficiently discreet and reserved not to be ill-treated. But I +should have known that when a queen says, 'I will not any longer,' it is +as imperious as when a woman says, 'I will.'" + +"But, sir, to whom, or when, have I said either the one or the other?" + +"Both, to me." + +"To you! You are a liar, M. de Rohan. A coward, for you calumniate a +woman; and a traitor, for you insult the queen." + +"And you are a heartless woman and a faithless queen. You led me to feel +for you the most ardent love. You let me drink my fill of hopes----" + +"Of hopes! My God! am I mad, or what is he?" + +"Should I have dared to ask you for the midnight interviews which you +granted me?" + +The queen uttered a cry of rage, as she fancied she heard a sigh from +the boudoir. + +"Should I," continued M. de Rohan, "have dared to come into the park if +you had not sent Madame de la Motte for me?" + +"Mon Dieu!" + +"Should I have dared to steal the key? Should I have ventured to ask for +this rose, which since then I have worn here on my heart, and burned up +with my kisses? Should I have dared to kiss your hands? And, above all, +should I have dared even to dream of sweet but perfidious love." + +"Monsieur!" cried she, "you blaspheme." + +"Mon Dieu!" exclaimed the cardinal, "heaven knows that to be loved by +this deceitful woman I would have given my all, my liberty, my life." + +"M. de Rohan, if you wish to preserve either, you will confess +immediately that you invented all these horrors; that you did not come +to the park at night." + +"I did come," he replied. + +"You are a dead man if you maintain this." + +"A Rohan cannot lie, madame; I did come." + +"M. de Rohan, in heaven's name say that you did not see me there." + +"I will die if you wish it, and as you threaten me; but I did come to +the park at Versailles, where Madame de la Motte brought me." + +"Once more, confess it is a horrible plot against me." + +"No." + +"Then believe that you were mistaken--deceived--that it was all a +fancy." + +"No." + +"Then we will have recourse," said she, solemnly, "to the justice of the +king." + +The cardinal bowed. + +The queen rang violently. "Tell his majesty that I desire his presence." + +The cardinal remained firm. Marie Antoinette went ten times to the door +of the boudoir, and each time returned without going in. + +At last the king appeared. + + + + +CHAPTER LXXVII. + +THE ARREST. + + +"Sire," cried the queen, "here is M. de Rohan, who says incredible +things, which I wish him to repeat to you." + +At these unexpected words the cardinal turned pale. Indeed, it was a +strange position to hear himself called upon to repeat to the king and +the husband all the claims which he believed he had over the queen and +the wife. + +But the king, turning towards him, said, "About a certain necklace, is +it not, sir?" + +M. de Rohan took advantage of the king's question, and chose the least +of two evils. "Yes, sire," he murmured, "about the necklace." + +"Then, sir, you have brought the necklace?" + +"Sire----" + +"Yes, or no, sir." + +The cardinal looked at the queen, and did not reply. + +"The truth, sir," said the queen, answering his look. "We want nothing +but the truth." + +M. de Rohan turned away his head, and did not speak. + +"If M. de Rohan will not reply, will you, madame, explain?" said the +king. "You must know something about it; did you buy it?" + +"No." + +M. de Rohan smiled rather contemptuously. + +"You say nothing, sir," said the king. + +"Of what am I accused, sire?" + +"The jewelers say they sold the necklace either to you or the queen. +They show a receipt from her majesty----" + +"A forged one," interrupted the queen. + +"The jewelers," continued the king, "say that in case the queen does not +pay, you are bound to do so by your engagements." + +"I do not refuse to pay, sire. It must be the truth, as the queen +permits it to be said." And a second look, still more contemptuous than +the first, accompanied this speech. + +The queen trembled, for she began to think his behavior like the +indignation of an honest man. + +"Well, M. le Cardinal, some one has imitated the signature of the Queen +of France," said the king. + +"The queen, sire, is free to attribute to me whatever crimes she +pleases." + +"Sir," said the king, "instead of justifying yourself, you assume the +air of an accuser." + +The cardinal paused a moment, and then cried, "Justify +myself?--impossible!" + +"Monsieur, these people say that this necklace has been stolen under a +promise to pay for it; do you confess the crime?" + +"Who would believe it, if I did?" asked the cardinal, with a haughty +disdain. + +"Then, sir, you think they will believe----" + +"Sire, I know nothing of what is said," interrupted the cardinal; "all +that I can affirm is, that I have not the necklace; some one has it who +will not produce it; and I can but say, let the shame of the crime fall +on the person who knows himself guilty." + +"The question, madame, is between you two," said the king. "Once more, +have you the necklace?" + +"No, by the honor of my mother, by the life of my son." + +The king joyfully turned towards the cardinal. "Then, sir, the affair +lies between you and justice, unless you prefer trusting to my +clemency." + +"The clemency of kings is for the guilty, sire; I prefer the justice of +men!" + +"You will confess nothing?" + +"I have nothing to say." + +"But, sir, your silence compromises my honor," cried the queen. + +The cardinal did not speak. + +"Well, then, I will speak," cried she. "Learn, sire, that M. de Rohan's +chief crime is not the theft of this necklace." + +M. de Rohan turned pale. + +"What do you mean?" cried the king. + +"Madame!" murmured the cardinal. + +"Oh! no reasons, no fear, no weakness shall close my mouth. I would +proclaim my innocence in public if necessary." + +"Your innocence," said the king. "Oh, madame, who would be rash enough, +or base enough, to compel you to defend that?" + +"I beg you, madame," said the cardinal. + +"Ah! you begin to tremble. I was right: such plots bear not the light. +Sire, will you order M. de Rohan to repeat to you what he has just said +to me." + +"Madame," cried the cardinal, "take care; you pass all bounds." + +"Sir," said the king, "do you dare to speak thus to the queen?" + +"Yes, sire," said Marie Antoinette; "this is the way he speaks to me, +and pretends he has the right to do so." + +"You, sir!" cried the king, livid with rage. + +"Oh! he says he has letters----" + +"Let us see them, sir," said the king. + +"Yes, produce them," cried the queen. + +The cardinal passed his hands over his burning eyes, and asked himself +how heaven could ever have created a being so perfidious and so +audacious; but he remained silent. + +"But that is not all," continued the queen, getting more and more +excited: "M. le Cardinal says he has obtained interviews----" + +"Madame, for pity's sake," cried the king. + +"For modesty's sake," murmured the cardinal. + +"One word, sir. If you are not the basest of men; if you hold anything +sacred in this world; if you have proofs, produce them." + +"No, madame," replied he, at length, "I have not." + +"You said you had a witness." + +"Who?" asked the king. + +"Madame de la Motte." + +"Ah!" cried the king, whose suspicions against her were easily excited; +"let us see this woman." + +"Yes," said the queen, "but she has disappeared. Ask monsieur what he +has done with her." + +"Others have made her disappear who had more interest in doing so than I +had." + +"But, sir, if you are innocent, help us to find the guilty." + +The cardinal crossed his hands and turned his back. + +"Monsieur," cried the king, "you shall go to the Bastile." + +"As I am, sire, in my robes? Consider, sire, the scandal will commence, +and will fall heavily on whomsoever it rests." + +"I wish it to do so, sir." + +"It is an injustice, sire." + +"It shall be so." And the king looked round for some one to execute his +orders. M. de Breteuil was near, anticipating the fall of his rival; the +king spoke to him, and he cried immediately, "Guards! arrest M. le +Cardinal de Rohan." + +The cardinal passed by the queen without saluting her; then, bowing to +the king, went towards the lieutenant of the guards, who approached +timidly, seeming to wait for a confirmation of the order he had +received. + +"Yes, sir," said M. de Rohan, "it is I whom you are to arrest." + +"Conduct monsieur to his apartment until I have written the order;" said +the king. + +When they were alone, the king said, "Madame, you know this must lead to +a public trial, and that scandal will fall heavily on the heads of the +guilty." + +"I thank you, sire; you have taken the only method of justifying me." + +"You thank me." + +"With all my heart; believe me, you have acted like a king, and I as a +queen." + +"Good," replied the king, joyfully; "we shall find out the truth at +last, and when once we have crushed the serpent, I hope we may live in +more tranquillity." He kissed the queen, and left her. + +"Monsieur," said the cardinal to the officer who conducted him, "can I +send word home that I have been arrested?" + +"If no one sees, monseigneur." + +The cardinal wrote some words on a page of his missal, then tore it out, +and let it fall at the feet of the officer. + +"She ruins me," murmured the cardinal; "but I will save her, for your +sake, oh! my king, and because it is my duty to forgive." + + + + +CHAPTER LXXVIII. + +THE PROCÈS-VERBAL. + + +When the king reentered his room he signed the order to consign M. de +Rohan to the Bastile. The Count de Provence soon came in and began +making a series of signs to M. de Breteuil, who, however willing, could +not understand their meaning. This, however, the count did not care for, +as his sole object was to attract the king's attention. He at last +succeeded, and the king, after dismissing M. de Breteuil, said to him, +"What was the meaning of all those signs you were making just now? I +suppose they meant something." + +"Undoubtedly, but----" + +"Oh, you are quite free to say or not." + +"Sire, I have just heard of the arrest of M. de Rohan." + +"Well, and what then? Am I wrong to do justice even on him?" + +"Oh no, brother; I did not mean that." + +"I should have been surprised had you not taken part somehow against the +queen. I have just seen her, and am quite satisfied." + +"Oh, sire, God forbid that I should accuse her! The queen has no friend +more devoted than myself." + +"Then you approve of my proceedings? which will, I trust, terminate all +the scandals which have lately disgraced our court." + +"Yes, sire, I entirely approve your majesty's conduct, and I think all +is for the best as regards the necklace----" + +"Pardieu, it is clear enough. M. de Rohan has been making himself great +on a pretended familiarity with the queen; and conducting in her name a +bargain for the diamonds, and leaving it to be supposed that she had +them. It is monstrous. And then these tales never stop at the truth, but +add all sorts of dreadful details which would end in a frightful scandal +on the queen." + +"Yes, brother, I repeat as far as the necklace is concerned you were +perfectly right." + +"What else is there, then?" + +"Sire, you embarrass me. The queen has not, then, told you?" + +"Oh, the other boastings of M. de Rohan? The pretended correspondence +and interviews he speaks of? All that I know is, that I have the most +absolute confidence in the queen, which she merits by the nobleness of +her character. It was easy for her to have told me nothing of all this; +but she always makes an immediate appeal to me in all difficulties, and +confides to me the care of her honor. I am her confessor and her +judge." + +"Sire, you make me afraid to speak, lest I should be again accused of +want of friendship for the queen. But it is right that all should be +spoken, that she may justify herself from the other accusations." + +"Well, what have you to say?" + +"Let me first hear what she told you?" + +"She said she had not the necklace; that she never signed the receipt +for the jewels; that she never authorized M. de Rohan to buy them; that +she had never given him the right to think himself more to her than any +other of her subjects; and that she was perfectly indifferent to him." + +"Ah! she said that----?" + +"Most decidedly." + +"Then these rumors about other people----" + +"What others?" + +"Why, if it were not M. de Rohan, who walked with the queen----" + +"How! do they say he walked with her?" + +"The queen denies it, you say? but how came she to be in the park at +night, and with whom did she walk?" + +"The queen in the park at night!" + +"Doubtless, there are always eyes ready to watch every movement of a +queen." + +"Brother, these are infamous things that you repeat, take care." + +"Sire, I openly repeat them, that your majesty may search out the +truth." + +"And they say that the queen walked at night in the park?" + +"Yes, sire, tête-à-tête." + +"I do not believe any one says it." + +"Unfortunately I can prove it but too well. There are four witnesses: +one is the captain of the hunt, who says he saw the queen go out two +following nights by the door near the kennel of the wolf-hounds; here is +his declaration signed." + +The king, trembling, took the paper. + +"The next is the night watchman at Trianon, who says he saw the queen +walking arm in arm with a gentleman. The third is the porter of the west +door, who also saw the queen going through the little gate; he states +how she was dressed, but that he could not recognize the gentleman, but +thought he looked like an officer; he says he could not be mistaken, for +that the queen was accompanied by her friend, Madame de la Motte." + +"Her friend!" cried the king, furiously. + +"The last is from the man whose duty it is to see that all the doors are +locked at night. He says that he saw the queen go into the baths of +Apollo with a gentleman." + +The king, pale with anger and emotion, snatched the paper from the hands +of his brother. + +"It is true," continued the count, "that Madame de la Motte was outside, +and that the queen did not remain more than an hour." + +"The name of the gentleman?" cried the king. + +"This report does not name him; but here is one dated the next day, by a +forester, who says it was M. de Charny." + +"M. de Charny!" cried the king. "Wait here; I will soon learn the truth +of all this." + + + + +CHAPTER LXXIX. + +THE LAST ACCUSATION. + + +As soon as the king left the room, the queen ran towards the boudoir, +and opened the door; then, as if her strength failed her, sank down on a +chair, waiting for the decision of M. de Charny, her last and most +formidable judge. + +He came out more sad and pale than ever. + +"Well?" said she. + +"Madame," replied he, "you see, everything opposes our friendship. There +can be no peace for me while such scandalous reports circulate in +public, putting my private convictions aside." + +"Then," said the queen, "all I have done, this perilous aggression, this +public defiance of one of the greatest nobles in the kingdom, and my +conduct being exposed to the test of public opinion, does not satisfy +you?" + +"Oh!" cried Charny, "you are noble and generous, I know----" + +"But you believe me guilty--you believe the cardinal. I command you to +tell me what you think." + +"I must say, then, madame, that he is neither mad nor wicked, as you +called him, but a man thoroughly convinced of the truth of what he +said--a man who loves you, and the victim of an error which will bring +him to ruin, and you----" + +"Well?" + +"To dishonor." + +"Mon Dieu!" + +"This odious woman, this Madame de la Motte, disappearing just when her +testimony might have restored you to repose and honor--she is the evil +genius, the curse, of your reign; she whom you have, unfortunately, +admitted to partake of your intimacy and your secrets." + +"Oh, sir!" + +"Yes, madame, it is clear that you combined with her and the cardinal to +buy this necklace. Pardon if I offend you." + +"Stay, sir," replied the queen, with a pride not unmixed with anger; +"what the king believes, others might believe, and my friends not be +harder than my husband. It seems to me that it can give no pleasure to +any man to see a woman whom he does not esteem. I do not speak of you, +sir; to you I am not a woman, but a queen; as you are to me, not a man, +but a subject. I had advised you to remain in the country, and it was +wise; far from the court, you might have judged me more truly. Too ready +to condescend, I have neglected to keep up, with those whom I thought +loved me, the prestige of royalty. I should have been a queen, and +content to govern, and not have wished to be loved." + +"I cannot express," replied Charny, "how much your severity wounds me. I +may have forgotten that you were a queen, but never that you were the +woman most in the world worthy of my respect and love." + +"Sir, I think your absence is necessary; something tells me that it will +end by your name being mixed up in all this." + +"Impossible, madame!" + +"You say 'impossible'; reflect on the power of those who have for so +long played with my reputation. You say that M. de Rohan is convinced of +what he asserts; those who cause such convictions would not be long in +proving you a disloyal subject to the king, and a disgraceful friend for +me. Those who invent so easily what is false will not be long in +discovering the truth. Lose no time, therefore; the peril is great. +Retire, and fly from the scandal which will ensue from the approaching +trial; I do not wish that my destiny should involve yours, or your +future be ruined. I, who am, thank God, innocent, and without a stain on +my life--I, who would lay bare my heart to my enemies, could they thus +read its purity, will resist to the last. For you might come ruin, +defamation, and perhaps imprisonment. Take away the money you so nobly +offered me, and the assurance that not one movement of your generous +heart has escaped me, and that your doubts, though they have wounded, +have not estranged me. Go, I say, and seek elsewhere what the Queen of +France can no longer give you--hope and happiness. From this time to the +convocation of Parliament, and the production of witnesses must be a +fortnight; your uncle has vessels ready to sail--go and leave me; I +bring misfortunes on my friends." Saying this, the queen rose, and +seemed to give Charny his congé. + +He approached quickly, but respectfully. "Your majesty," cried he, in a +moved voice, "shows me my duty. It is here that danger awaits you, here +that you are to be judged, and, that you may have one loyal witness on +your side, I remain here. Perhaps we may still make your enemies tremble +before the majesty of an innocent queen, and the courage of a devoted +man. And if you wish it, madame, I will be equally hidden and unseen as +though I went. During a fortnight that I lived within a hundred yards of +you, watching your every movement, counting your steps, living in your +life, no one saw me; I can do so again, if it please you." + +"As you please," replied she; "I am no coquette, M. de Charny, and to +say what I please is the true privilege of a queen. One day, sir, I +chose you from every one. I do not know what drew my heart towards you, +but I had need of a strong and pure friendship, and I allowed you to +perceive that need; but now I see that your soul does not respond to +mine, and I tell you so frankly." + +"Oh, madame," cried Charny, "I cannot let you take away your heart from +me! If you have once given it to me, I will keep it with my life; I +cannot lose you. You reproached me with my doubts--oh, do not doubt me!" + +"Ah," said she, "but you are weak, and I, alas, am so also." + +"You are all I love you to be." + +"What!" cried she, passionately, "this abused queen, this woman about to +be publicly judged, that the world condemns, and that her king and +husband may, perhaps, also in turn condemn, has she found one heart to +love her?" + +"A slave, who venerates her, and offers her his heart's blood in +exchange for every pang he has caused her!" + +"Then," cried she, "this woman is blessed and happy, and complains of +nothing!" + +Charny fell at her feet, and kissed her hands in transport. At that +moment the door opened, and the king surprised, at the feet of his wife, +the man whom he had just heard accused by the Comte de Provence. + + + + +CHAPTER LXXX. + +THE PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE. + + +The queen and Charny exchanged a look so full of terror, that their most +cruel enemy must have pitied them. + +Charny rose slowly, and bowed to the king, whose heart might almost have +been seen to beat. + +"Ah!" cried he, in a hoarse voice, "M. de Charny!" + +The queen could not speak--she thought she was lost. + +"M. de Charny," repeated the king, "it is little honorable for a +gentleman to be taken in the act of theft." + +"Of theft?" murmured Charny. + +"Yes, sir, to kneel before the wife of another is a theft; and when this +woman is a queen, his crime is called high treason!" + +The count was about to speak, but the queen, ever impatient in her +generosity, forestalled him. + +"Sire," said she, "you seem in the mood for evil suspicions and +unfavorable suppositions, which fall falsely, I warn you; and if respect +chains the count's tongue, I will not hear him wrongfully accused +without defending him." Here she stopped, overcome by emotion, +frightened at the falsehood she was about to tell, and bewildered +because she could not find one to utter. + +But these few words had somewhat softened the king, who replied more +gently, "You will not tell me, madame, that I did not see M. de Charny +kneeling before you, and without your attempting to raise him?" + +"Therefore you might think," replied she, "that he had some favor to ask +me." + +"A favor?" + +"Yes, sire, and one which I could not easily grant, or he would not have +insisted with so much less warmth." + +Charny breathed again, and the king's look became calmer. Marie +Antoinette was searching for something to say, with mingled rage at +being obliged to lie, and grief at not being able to think of anything +probable to say. She half hoped the king would be satisfied, and ask no +more, but he said: + +"Let us hear, madame, what is the favor so warmly solicited, which made +M. de Charny kneel before you; I may, perhaps, more happy than you, be +able to grant it." + +She hesitated; to lie before the man she loved was agony to her, and she +would have given the world for Charny to find the answer. But of this he +was incapable. + +"Sire, I told you that M. de Charny asked an impossible thing." + +"What is it?" + +"What can one ask on one's knees?" + +"I want to hear." + +"Sire, it is a family secret." + +"There are no secrets from the king--a father interested in all his +subjects, who are his children, although, like unnatural children, they +may sometimes attack the honor and safety of their father." + +This speech made the queen tremble anew. + +"M. de Charny asked," replied she, "permission to marry." + +"Really," cried the king, reassured for a moment. Then, after a pause, +he said, "But why should it be impossible for M. de Charny to marry? Is +he not noble? Has he not a good fortune? Is he not brave and handsome? +Really, to refuse him, the lady ought to be a princess, or already +married. I can see no other reason for an impossibility. Therefore, +madame, tell me the name of the lady who is loved by M. de Charny, and +let me see if I cannot remove the difficulty." + +The queen, forced to continue her falsehood, replied: + +"No, sire; there are difficulties which even you cannot remove, and the +present one is of this nature." + +"Still, I wish to hear," replied the king, his anger returning. + +Charny looked at the queen--she seemed ready to faint. He made a step +towards her and then drew back. How dared he approach her in the king's +presence? + +"Oh!" thought she, "for an idea--something that the king can neither +doubt nor disbelieve." Then suddenly a thought struck her. She who has +dedicated herself to heaven the king cannot influence. "Sire!" she +cried, "she whom M. de Charny wishes to marry is in a convent." + +"Oh! that is a difficulty; no doubt. But this seems a very sudden love +of M. de Charny's. I have never heard of it from any one. Who is the +lady you love, M. de Charny?" + +The queen felt in despair, not knowing what he would say, and dreading +to hear him name any one. But Charny could not reply: so, after a +pause, she cried, "Sire, you know her; it is Andrée de Taverney." + +Charny buried his face in his hands; the queen pressed her hand to her +heart, and could hardly support herself. + +"Mademoiselle de Taverney? but she has gone to St. Denis." + +"Yes, sire," replied the queen. + +"But she has taken no vows." + +"No, but she is about to do so." + +"We will see if we can persuade her. Why should she take the vows?" + +"She is poor," said the queen. + +"That I can soon alter, madame, if M. de Charny loves her." + +The queen shuddered, and cast a glance at the young man, as if begging +him to deny it. He did not speak. + +"And I dare say," continued the king, taking his silence for consent, +"that Mademoiselle de Taverney loves M. de Charny. I will give her as +dowry the 500,000 francs which I refused the other day to you. Thank the +queen, M. de Charny, for telling me of this, and ensuring your +happiness." + +Charny bowed like a pale statue which had received an instant's life. + +"Oh, it is worth kneeling again for!" said the king. + +The queen trembled, and stretched out her hand to the young man, who +left on it a burning kiss. + +"Now," said the king, "come with me." + +M. de Charny turned once, to read the anguish in the eyes of the queen. + + + + +CHAPTER LXXXI. + +ST. DENIS. + + +The queen remained alone and despairing. So many blows had struck her +that she hardly knew from which she suffered most. How she longed to +retract the words she had spoken, to take from Andrée even the chance +of the happiness which she still hoped she would refuse; but if she +refused, would not the king's suspicions reawaken, and everything seem +only the worse for this falsehood? She dared not risk this--she must go +to Andrée and confess, and implore her to make this sacrifice; or if she +would only temporize, the king's suspicions might pass away, and he +might cease to interest himself about it. Thus the liberty of Mlle. de +Taverney would not be sacrificed, neither would that of M. de Charny; +and she would be spared the remorse of having sacrificed the happiness +of two people to her honor. She longed to speak again to Charny, but +feared discovery; and she knew she might rely upon him to ratify +anything she chose to say. Three o'clock arrived--the state dinner and +the presentations; and the queen went through all with a serene and +smiling air. When all was over she changed her dress, got into her +carriage, and, without any guards, and only one companion, drove to St. +Denis, and asked to see Andrée. Andrée was at that moment kneeling, +dressed in her white peignoir; and praying with fervor. She had quitted +the court voluntarily, and separated herself from all that could feed +her love; but she could not stifle her regrets and bitter feelings. Had +she not seen Charny apparently indifferent towards her, while the queen +occupied all his thoughts? Yet, when she heard that the queen was asking +for her, she felt a thrill of pleasure and delight. She threw a mantle +over her shoulders, and hastened to see her; but on the way she +reproached herself with the pleasure that she felt, endeavoring to think +that the queen and the court had alike ceased to interest her. + +"Come here, Andrée," said the queen, with a smile, as she entered. + + + + +CHAPTER LXXXII. + +A DEAD HEART. + + +"Andrée," continued the queen, "it looks strange to see you in this +dress; to see an old friend and companion already lost to life, is like +a warning to ourselves from the tomb." + +"Madame, no one has a right to warn or counsel your majesty." + +"That was never my wish," said the queen; "tell me truly, Andrée, had +you to complain of me when you were at court?" + +"Your majesty was good enough to ask me that question when I took leave, +and I replied then as now, no, madame." + +"But often," said the queen, "a grief hurts us which is not personal; +have I injured any one belonging to you? Andrée, the retreat which you +have chosen is an asylum against evil passions; here God teaches +gentleness, moderation and forgiveness of injuries. I come as a friend, +and ask you to receive me as such." + +Andrée felt touched. "Your majesty knows," said she, "that the Taverneys +cannot be your enemies." + +"I understand," replied the queen; "you cannot pardon me for having been +cold to your brother, and, perhaps, he himself accuses me of caprice." + +"My brother is too respectful a subject to accuse the queen," said +Andrée, coldly. + +The queen saw that it was useless to try and propitiate Andrée on this +subject; so she said only, "Well, at least, I am ever your friend." + +"Your majesty overwhelms me with your goodness." + +"Do not speak thus; cannot the queen have a friend?" + +"I assure you, madame, that I have loved you as much as I shall ever +love any one in this world." She colored as she spoke. + +"You have loved me; then you love me no more? Can a cloister so quickly +extinguish all affection and all remembrance? if so, it is a cursed +place." + +"Do not accuse my heart, madame, it is dead." + +"Your heart dead, Andrée? you, so young and beautiful." + +"I repeat to you, madame, nothing in the court, nothing in the world, is +any more to me. Here I live like the herb or the flower, alone for +myself. I entreat you to pardon me; this forgetfulness of the glorious +vanities of the world is no crime. My confessor congratulates me on it +every day." + +"Then you like the convent?" + +"I embrace with pleasure a solitary life." + +"Nothing remains which attracts you back to the world?" + +"Nothing!" + +"Mon dieu!" thought the queen; "shall I fail? If nothing else will +succeed, I must have recourse to entreaties; to beg her to accept M. de +Charny--heavens, how unhappy I am!--Andrée," she said, "what you say +takes from me the hope I had conceived." + +"What hope, madame?" + +"Oh! if you are as decided as you appear to be, it is useless to speak." + +"If your majesty would explain----" + +"You never regret what you have done?" + +"Never, madame." + +"Then it is superfluous to speak; and I yet hoped to make you happy." + +"Me?" + +"Yes, you, ingrate; but you know best your inclinations." + +"Still, if your majesty would tell me----" + +"Oh, it is simple; I wished you to return to court." + +"Never!" + +"You refuse me?" + +"Oh, madame, why should you wish me?--sorrowful, poor, despised, avoided +by every one, incapable of inspiring sympathy in either sex! Ah, +madame, and dear mistress, leave me here to become worthy to be accepted +by God, for even He would reject me at present." + +"But," said the queen, "what I was about to propose to you would have +removed all these humiliations of which you complain. A marriage, which +would have made you one of our great ladies." + +"A marriage?" stammered Andrée. + +"Yes." + +"Oh, I refuse, I refuse!" + +"Andrée!" cried the queen, in a supplicating voice. + +"Ah, no, I refuse!" + +Marie Antoinette prepared herself, with a fearfully-palpitating heart, +for her last resource; but as she hesitated, Andrée said, "But, madame, +tell me the name of the man who is willing to think of me as his +companion for life." + +"M. de Charny," said the queen, with an effort. + +"M. de Charny?"---- + +"Yes, the nephew of M. de Suffren." + +"It is he!" cried Andrée, with burning cheeks, and sparkling eyes; "he +consents----" + +"He asks you in marriage." + +"Oh, I accept, I accept, for I love him." + +The queen became livid, and sank back trembling, whilst Andrée kissed +her hands, bathing them with her tears. "Oh, I am ready," murmured she. + +"Come, then!" cried the queen, who felt as though her strength was +failing her, with a last effort to preserve appearances. + +Andrée left the room to prepare. Then Marie Antoinette cried, with +bitter sobs, "Oh, mon Dieu! how can one heart bear so much suffering? +and yet I should be thankful, for does it not save my children and +myself from shame?" + + + + +CHAPTER LXXXIII. + +IN WHICH IT IS EXPLAINED WHY THE BARON DE TAVERNEY GREW FAT. + + +Meanwhile Philippe was hastening the preparations for his departure. He +did not wish to witness the dishonor of the queen, his first and only +passion. When all was ready, he requested an interview with his father. +For the last three months the baron had been growing fat; he seemed to +feed on the scandals circulating at the court--they were meat and drink +to him. When he received his son's message, instead of sending for him, +he went to seek him in his room, already full of the disorder consequent +on packing. Philippe did not expect much sensibility from his father, +still he did not think he would be pleased. Andrée had already left him, +and it was one less to torment, and he must feel a blank when his son +went also. Therefore Philippe was astonished to hear his father call +out, with a burst of laughter, "Oh, mon Dieu! he is going away, I was +sure of it, I would have bet upon it. Well played, Philippe, well +played." + +"What is well played, sir?" + +"Admirable!" repeated the old man. + +"You give me praises, sir, which I neither understand nor merit, unless +you are pleased at my departure, and glad to get rid of me." + +"Oh! oh!" laughed the old man again, "I am not your dupe. Do you think I +believe in your departure?" + +"You do not believe? really, sir, you surprise me." + +"Yes, it is surprising that I should have guessed. You are quite right +to pretend to leave; without this ruse all, probably, would have been +discovered." + +"Monsieur, I protest I do not understand one word of what you say to +me." + +"Where do you say you go to?" + +"I go first to Taverney Maison Rouge." + +"Very well, but be prudent. There are sharp eyes on you both, and she is +so fiery and incautious, that you must be prudent for both. What is your +address, in case I want to send you any pressing news?" + +"Taverney, monsieur." + +"Taverney, nonsense! I do not ask you for the address of your house in +the park; but choose some third address near here. You, who have managed +so well for your love, can easily manage this." + +"Sir, you play at enigmas, and I cannot find the solution." + +"Oh, you are discreet beyond all bounds. However, keep your secrets, +tell me nothing of the huntsman's house, nor the nightly walks with two +dear friends, nor the rose, nor the kisses." + +"Monsieur!" cried Philippe, mad with jealousy and rage, "will you hold +your tongue?" + +"Well, I know it all--your intimacy with the queen, and your meetings in +the baths of Apollo. Mon Dieu! our fortunes are assured forever." + +"Monsieur, you cause me horror!" cried poor Philippe, hiding his face in +his hands. And, indeed, he felt it, at hearing attributed to himself all +the happiness of another. All the rumors that the father had heard, he +had assigned to his son, and believed that it was he that the queen +loved, and no one else; hence his perfect contentment and happiness. + +"Yes," he went on, "some said it was Rohan; others, that it was Charny; +not one that it was Taverney. Oh, you have acted well." + +At this moment a carriage was heard to drive up, and a servant entering, +said, "Here is mademoiselle." + +"My sister!" cried Philippe. + +Then another servant appeared, and said that Mademoiselle de Taverney +wished to speak to her brother in the boudoir. Another carriage now came +to the door. + +"Who the devil comes now?" muttered the baron; "it is an evening of +adventures." + +"M. le Comte de Charny," cried the powerful voice of the porter at the +gate. + +"Conduct M. le Comte to the drawing-room; my father will see him; and I +will go to my sister--What can he want here?" thought Philippe, as he +went down. + + + + +CHAPTER LXXXIV. + +THE FATHER AND THE FIANCÉE. + + +Philippe hastened to the boudoir, where his sister awaited him. She ran +to embrace him with a joyous air. + +"What is it, Andrée?" cried he. + +"Something which makes me happy. Oh! very happy, brother." + +"And you come back to announce it to me." + +"I come back for ever," said Andrée. + +"Speak low, sister; there is, or is going to be, some one in the next +room who might hear you." + +"Who?" + +"Listen." + +"M. le Comte de Charny," announced the servant. + +"He! oh, I know well what he comes for." + +"You know!" + +"Yes, and soon I shall be summoned to hear what he has to say." + +"Do you speak seriously, my dear Andrée?" + +"Listen, Philippe. The queen has brought me suddenly back, and I must go +and change my dress for one fit for a fiancée." And saying this, with a +kiss to Philippe, she ran off. + +Philippe remained alone. He could hear what passed in the adjoining +room. M. de Taverney entered, and saluted the count with a recherché +though stiff politeness. + +"I come, monsieur," said Charny, "to make a request, and beg you to +excuse my not having brought my uncle with me, which I know would have +been more proper." + +"A request?" + +"I have the honor," continued Charny, in a voice full of emotion, "to +ask the hand of Mademoiselle Andrée, your daughter." + +The baron opened his eyes in astonishment--"My daughter?" + +"Yes, M. le Baron, if Mademoiselle de Taverney feels no repugnance." + +"Oh," thought the old man, "Philippe's favor is already so well-known, +that one of his rivals wishes to marry his sister." Then aloud, he said, +"This request is such an honor to us, M. le Comte, that I accede with +much pleasure; and as I should wish you to carry away a perfectly +favorable answer, I will send for my daughter." + +"Monsieur," interrupted the count, rather coldly, "the queen has been +good enough to consult Mademoiselle de Taverney already, and her reply +was favorable." + +"Ah!" said the baron, more and more astonished, "it is the queen +then----" + +"Yes, monsieur, who took the trouble to go to St. Denis." + +"Then, sir, it only remains to acquaint you with my daughter's fortune. +She is not rich, and before concluding----" + +"It is needless, M. le Baron; I am rich enough for both." + +At this moment the door opened, and Philippe entered, pale and wild +looking. + +"Sir," said he, "my father was right to wish to discuss these things +with you. While he goes up-stairs to bring the papers I have something +to say to you." + +When they were left alone, "M. de Charny," said he, "how dare you come +here to ask for the hand of my sister?" Charny colored. "Is it," +continued Philippe, "in order to hide better your amours with another +woman whom you love, and who loves you? Is it, that by becoming the +husband of a woman who is always near your mistress, you will have more +facilities for seeing her?" + +"Sir, you pass all bounds." + +"It is, perhaps; and this is what I believe, that were I your +brother-in-law, you think my tongue would be tied about what I know of +your past amours." + +"What you know?" + +"Yes," cried Philippe, "the huntsman's house hired by you, your +mysterious promenades in the park at night, and the tender parting at +the little gate." + +"Monsieur, in heaven's name----" + +"Oh, sir, I was concealed behind the baths of Apollo when you came out, +arm in arm with the queen." + +Charny was completely overwhelmed for a time; then, after a few moments, +he said, "Well, sir, even after all this, I reiterate my demand for the +hand of your sister. I am not the base calculator you suppose me; but +the queen must be saved." + +"The queen is not lost, because I saw her on your arm, raising to heaven +her eyes full of happiness; because I know that she loves you. That is +no reason why my sister should be sacrificed, M. de Charny." + +"Monsieur," replied Charny, "this morning the king surprised me at her +feet----" + +"Mon Dieu!" + +"And she, pressed by his jealous questions, replied that I was kneeling +to ask the hand of your sister. Therefore if I do not marry her, the +queen is lost. Do you now understand?" + +A cry from the boudoir now interrupted them, followed by another from +the ante-chamber. Charny ran to the boudoir; he saw there Andrée, dressed +in white like a bride: she had heard all, and had fainted. Philippe ran +to where the other cry came from; it was his father, whose hopes this +revelation of the queen's love for Charny had just destroyed; struck by +apoplexy, he had given his last sigh. Philippe, who understood it, +looked at the corpse for a few minutes in silence, and then returned to +the drawing-room, and there saw Charny watching the senseless form of +his sister. He then said, "My father has just expired, sir; I am now the +head of the family; if my sister survive, I will give her to you in +marriage." + +Charny regarded the corpse of the baron with horror, and the form of +Andrée with despair. Philippe uttered a groan of agony, then continued, +"M. de Charny, I make this engagement in the name of my sister, now +lying senseless before us; she will give her happiness to the queen, and +I, perhaps, some day shall be happy enough to give my life for her. +Adieu, M. de Charny----" and taking his sister in his arms, he carried +her into the next room. + + + + +CHAPTER LXXXV. + +AFTER THE DRAGON, THE VIPER. + + +Oliva was preparing to fly, as Jeanne had arranged, when Beausire, +warned by an anonymous letter, discovered her and carried her away. In +order to trace them, Jeanne put all her powers in requisition--she +preferred being able to watch over her own secret--and her +disappointment was great when all her agents returned announcing a +failure. At this time she received in her hiding-place numerous messages +from the queen. + +She went by night to Bar-sur-Aube, and there remained for two days. At +last she was traced, and an express sent to take her. Then she learnt +the arrest of the cardinal. "The queen has been rash," thought she, "in +refusing to compromise with the cardinal, or to pay the jewelers; but +she did not know my power." + +"Monsieur," said she to the officer who arrested her, "do you love the +queen?" + +"Certainly, madame." + +"Well, in the name of that love I beg you to conduct me straight to her. +Believe me, you will be doing her a service." + +The man was persuaded, and did so. The queen received her haughtily, for +she began to suspect that her conduct had not been straightforward. She +called in two ladies as witnesses of what was about to pass. + +"You are found at last, madame," said the queen; "why did you hide?" + +"I did not hide, madame." + +"Run away, then, if that pleases you better." + +"That is to say, that I quitted Paris. I had some little business at +Bar-sur-Aube, and, to tell the truth, I did not know I was so necessary +to your majesty as to be obliged to ask leave for an absence of eight +days." + +"Have you seen the king?" + +"No, madame." + +"You shall see him." + +"It will be a great honor for me; but your majesty seems very severe +towards me--I am all trembling." + +"Oh, madame, this is but the beginning. Do you know that M. de Rohan has +been arrested?" + +"They told me so, madame." + +"You guess why?" + +"No, madame." + +"You proposed to me that he should pay for a certain necklace; did I +accept or refuse?" + +"Refuse." + +"Ah!" said the queen, well pleased. + +"Your majesty even paid 100,000 francs on account." + +"Well, and afterwards?" + +"Afterwards, as your majesty could not pay, you sent it back to M. +Boehmer." + +"By whom?" + +"By me." + +"And what did you do with it?" + +"I took it to the cardinal." + +"And why to the cardinal instead of to the jewelers, as I told you?" + +"Because I thought he would be hurt if I returned it without letting him +know." + +"But how did you get a receipt from the jewelers?" + +"M. de Rohan gave it to me." + +"But why did you take a letter to them as coming from me?" + +"Because he gave it to me, and asked me to do so." + +"It is, then, all his doing?" + +"What is, madame?" + +"The receipt and the letter are both forged." + +"Forged, madame!" cried Jeanne, with much apparent astonishment. + +"Well, you must be confronted with him to prove the truth." + +"Why, madame?" + +"He himself demands it. He says he has sought you everywhere, and that +he wishes to prove that you have deceived him." + +"Oh! then, madame, let us meet." + +"You shall. You deny all knowledge of where the necklace is?" + +"How should I know, madame?" + +"You deny having aided the cardinal in his intrigues?" + +"I am a Valois, madame." + +"But M. de Rohan maintained before the king many calumnies, which he +said you would confirm." + +"I do not understand." + +"He declares he wrote to me." + +Jeanne did not reply. + +"Do you hear?" said the queen. + +"Yes, madame." + +"What do you reply?" + +"I will reply when I have seen him." + +"But speak the truth now." + +"Your majesty overwhelms me." + +"That is no answer." + +"I will give no other here;" and she looked at the two ladies. The queen +understood, but would not yield; she scorned to purchase anything by +concession. + +"M. de Rohan," said the queen, "was sent to the Bastile for saying too +much; take care, madame, that you are not sent for saying too little." + +Jeanne smiled. "A pure conscience can brave persecution," she replied; +"the Bastile will not convict me of a crime I did not commit." + +"Will you reply?" + +"Only to your majesty." + +"Are you not speaking to me?" + +"Not alone." + +"Ah! you fear scandal, after being the cause of so much to me." + +"What I did," said Jeanne, "was done for you." + +"What insolence!" + +"I submit to the insults of my queen." + +"You will sleep in the Bastile to-night, madame!" + +"So be it; I will first pray to God to preserve your majesty's honor." + +The queen rose furiously, and went into the next room. + +"After having conquered the dragon," she said, "I can crush the viper!" + + + + +CHAPTER LXXXVI. + +HOW IT CAME TO PASS THAT M. BEAUSIRE WAS TRACKED BY THE AGENTS OF M. DE +CROSNE. + + +Madame de la Motte was imprisoned as the queen had threatened, and the +whole affair created no little talk and excitement through France. M. de +Rohan lived at the Bastile like a prince: he had everything but liberty. +He demanded to be confronted with Madame de la Motte as soon as he heard +of her arrest. This was done. She whispered to him, "Send every one +away, and I will explain." He asked this, but was refused; they said his +counsel might communicate with her. She said to this gentleman that she +was ignorant of what had become of the necklace, but that they might +well have given it to her in recompense for the services she had +rendered the queen and the cardinal, which were well worth a million and +a half. The cardinal turned pale on hearing this repeated, and felt how +much they were in Jeanne's power. He was determined not to accuse the +queen, although his friends endeavored to convince him that it was his +only way to prove his innocence of the robbery. Jeanne said that she +did not wish to accuse either the queen or the cardinal, but that, if +they persisted in making her responsible for the necklace, she would do +so to show that they were interested in accusing her of falsehood. Then +M. de Rohan expressed all his contempt for her, and said that he began +to understand much of Jeanne's conduct, but not the queen's. All this +was reported to Marie Antoinette. She ordered another private +examination of the parties, but gained nothing from it. Jeanne denied +everything to those sent by the queen; but when they were gone she +altered her tone, and said, "If they do not leave me alone I will tell +all." The cardinal said nothing, and brought no accusations; but rumors +began to spread fast, and the question soon became, not "Has the queen +stolen the necklace?" but "Has she allowed some one else to steal it +because she knew all about her amours?" Madame de la Motte had involved +her in a maze, from which there seemed no honorable exit; but she +determined not to lose courage. She began to come to the conclusion that +the cardinal was an honest man, and did not wish to ruin her, but was +acting like herself, only to preserve his honor. They strove earnestly +but ineffectually to trace the necklace. All opinions were against +Jeanne, and she began to fear that, even if she dragged down the queen +and cardinal, she should be quite overwhelmed under the ruins she had +caused; and she had not even at hand the fruits of her dishonesty to +corrupt her judges with. Affairs were in this state when a new episode +changed the face of things. Oliva and M. Beausire were living, happy and +rich, in a country house, when one day Beausire, going out hunting, fell +into the company of two of the agents of M. de Crosne, whom he had +scattered all over the country. They recognized Beausire immediately, +but, as it was Oliva whom they most wanted, they did not arrest him +there, but only joined the chase. Beausire, seeing two strangers, called +the huntsman, and asked who they were. He replied that he did not know, +but, if he had permission, would send them away. On his questioning +them, they said they were friends of that gentleman, pointing to M. +Beausire. Then the man brought them to him, saying, "M. de Linville, +these gentlemen say they are friends of yours." + +"Ah, you are called De Linville now, dear M. Beausire!" + +Beausire trembled; he had concealed his name so carefully. He sent away +the huntsman, and asked them who they were. + +"Take us home with you, and we will tell you." + +"Home?" + +"Yes; do not be inhospitable." Beausire was frightened, but still feared +to refuse these men who knew him. + + + + +CHAPTER LXXXVII. + +THE TURTLES ARE CAGED. + + +Beausire, on entering the house, made a noise to attract Oliva's +attention, for, though he knew nothing about her later escapades, he +knew enough about the ball at the Opera, and the morning at M. Mesmer's, +to make him fear letting her be seen by strangers. Accordingly, Oliva, +hearing the dogs bark, looked out, and, seeing Beausire returning with +two strangers, did not come to meet him as usual. Unfortunately the +servant asked if he should call madame. The men rallied him about the +lady whom he had concealed; he let them laugh, but did not offer to call +her. They dined; then Beausire asked where they had met him before. "We +are," replied they, "friends of one of your associates in a little +affair about the Portuguese embassy." + +Beausire turned pale. + +"Ah!" said he: "and you came on your friend's part?" + +"Yes, dear M. Beausire, to ask for 10,000 francs." + +"Gentlemen," replied Beausire, "you cannot think I have such a sum in +the house." + +"Very likely not, monsieur; we do not ask for impossibilities. How much +have you?" + +"Not more than fifty or sixty louis." + +"We will take them to begin with." + +"I will go and fetch them," said Beausire. But they did not choose to +let him leave the room without them, so they caught hold of him by the +coat, saying: + +"Oh no, dear M. Beausire, do not leave us." + +"But how am I to get the money if I do not leave you?" + +"We will go with you." + +"But it is in my wife's bedroom." + +"Ah," cried one of them, "you hide your wife from us!" + +"Are we not presentable?" asked the other. "We wish to see her." + +"You are tipsy, and I will turn you out!" said Beausire. + +They laughed. + +"Now you shall not even have the money I promised," said he, emboldened +by what he thought their intoxication; and he ran out of the room. + +They followed and caught him; he cried out, and at the sound a door +opened, and a woman looked out with a frightened air. On seeing her, the +men released Beausire, and gave a cry of exultation, for they recognized +her immediately who resembled the Queen of France so strongly. + +Beausire, who believed them for a moment disarmed by the sight of a +woman, was soon cruelly undeceived. + +One of the men approached Oliva, and said: + +"I arrest you." + +"Arrest her! Why?" cried Beausire. + +"Because it is M. de Crosne's orders." + +A thunderbolt falling between the lovers would have frightened them less +than this declaration. + +At last Beausire said, "You came to arrest me?" + +"No; it was a chance." + +"Never mind, you might have arrested me, and for sixty louis you were +about to leave me at liberty." + +"Oh no, we should have asked another sixty; however, for one hundred we +will do so." + +"And madame?" + +"Oh, that is quite a different affair." + +"She is worth two hundred louis," said Beausire. + +They laughed again, and this time Beausire began to understand this +terrible laugh. + +"Three hundred, four hundred, a thousand--see, I will give you one +thousand louis to leave her at liberty!" + +They did not answer. + +"Is not that enough? Ah, you know I have money, and you want to make me +pay. Well, I will give you two thousand louis; it will make both your +fortunes!" + +"For 100,000 crowns we would not give up this woman. M. de Rohan will +give us 500,000 francs for her, and the queen 1,000,000. Now we must go. +You doubtless have a carriage of some kind here; have it prepared for +madame. We will take you also, for form's sake; but on the way you can +escape, and we will shut our eyes." + +Beausire replied, "Where she goes, I will go; I will never leave her." + +"Oh, so much the better; the more prisoners we bring M. de Crosne, the +better he will be pleased." + +A quarter of an hour after, Beausire's carriage started, with the two +lovers in it. One may imagine the effect of this capture on M. de +Crosne. The agents probably did not receive the 1,000,000 francs they +hoped for, but there is reason to believe they were satisfied. M. de +Crosne went to Versailles, followed by another carriage well guarded. He +asked to see the queen, and was instantly admitted. She judged from his +face that he had good news for her, and felt the first sensation of joy +she had experienced for a month. + +"Madame," said M. de Crosne, "have you a room here where you can see +without being seen?" + +"Oh yes--my library." + +"Well, madame, I have a carriage below, in which is some one whom I wish +to introduce into the castle unseen by any one." + +"Nothing more easy," replied the queen, ringing to give her orders. + +All was executed as he wished. Then she conducted M. de Crosne to the +library, where, concealed from view behind a large screen, she soon saw +enter a form which made her utter a cry of surprise. It was Oliva, +dressed in one of her own favorite costumes--a green dress with broad +stripes of black moirée, green satin slippers with high heels, and her +hair dressed like her own. It might have been herself reflected in the +glass. + +"What says your majesty to this resemblance?" asked M. de Crosne, +triumphantly. + +"Incredible," said the queen. She then thought to herself, "Ah! Charny; +why are you not here?" + +"What does your majesty wish?" + +"Nothing, sir, but that the king should know." + +"And M. de Provence see her? shall he not, madame?" + +"Thanks, M. de Crosne, you hold now, I think, the clue to the whole +plot." + +"Nearly so, madame." + +"And M. de Rohan?" + +"Knows nothing yet." + +"Ah!" cried the queen; "in this woman, doubtless, lies all his error." + +"Possibly, madame; but if it be his error it is the crime of some one +else." + +"Seek well, sir; the honor of France is in your hands." + +"Believe me worthy of the trust. At present, the accused parties deny +everything. I shall wait for the proper time to overwhelm them with this +living witness that I now hold." + +"Madame de la Motte?" + +"Knows nothing of this capture. She accuses M. de Cagliostro of having +excited the cardinal to say what he did." + +"And what does M. de Cagliostro say?" + +"He has promised to come to me this morning. He is a dangerous man, but +a useful one, and attacked by Madame de la Motte, I am in hopes he will +sting back again." + +"You hope for revelations?" + +"I do." + +"How so, sir? Tell me everything which can reassure me." + +"These are my reasons, madame. Madame de la Motte lived in the Rue St. +Claude, and M. de Cagliostro just opposite her. So I think her movements +cannot have been unnoticed by him; but if your majesty will excuse me, +it is close to the time he appointed to meet me." + +"Go, monsieur, go; and assure yourself of my gratitude." + +When he was gone the queen burst into tears. "My justification begins," +said she; "I shall soon read my triumph in all faces; but the one I most +cared to know me innocent, him I shall not see." + +M. de Crosne drove back to Paris, where M. de Cagliostro waited for him. +He knew all; for he had discovered Beausire's retreat, and was on the +road to see him, and induce him to leave France, when he met the +carriage containing Beausire and Oliva. Beausire saw the count, and the +idea crossed his mind that he might help them. He therefore accepted the +offer of the police-agents, gave them the hundred louis, and made his +escape, in spite of the tears shed by Oliva; saying, "I go to try and +save you." He ran after M. de Cagliostro's carriage, which he soon +overtook, as the count had stopped, it being useless to proceed. +Beausire soon told his story; Cagliostro listened in silence, then said, +"She is lost." + +"Why so?" Then Cagliostro told him all he did not already know--all the +intrigues in the park. + +"Oh! save her," cried Beausire; "and I will give her to you, if you love +her still." + +"My friend," replied Cagliostro, "you deceive yourself; I never loved +Mademoiselle Oliva; I had but one aim--that of weaning her from the life +of debauchery she was leading with you." + +"But----" said Beausire. + +"That astonishes you--know that I belong to a society whose object is +moral reform. Ask her if ever she heard from my mouth one word of +gallantry, or if my services were not disinterested." + +"Oh, monsieur! but will you save her?" + +"I will try, but it will depend on yourself." + +"I will do anything." + +"Then return with me to Paris, and if you follow my instructions +implicitly, we may succeed in saving her. I only impose one condition, +which I will tell you when I reach home." + +"I promise beforehand. But can I see her again?" + +"I think so, and you can tell her what I say to you." In two hours they +overtook the carriage containing Oliva, and Beausire bought for fifty +louis permission to embrace her, and tell her all the count had said. +The agents admired this violent love, and hoped for more louis, but +Beausire was gone. Cagliostro drove him to Paris. + +We will now return to M. de Crosne. + +This gentleman knew a good deal about Cagliostro, his former names, his +pretensions to ubiquity and perpetual regeneration, his secrets in +alchemy and magnetism, and looked upon him as a great charlatan. + +"Monsieur," said he to Cagliostro, "you asked me for an audience; I have +returned from Versailles to meet you." + +"Sir, I thought you would wish to question me about what is passing, so +I came to you." + +"Question you?" said the magistrate, affecting surprise. "On what?" + +"Monsieur," replied Cagliostro, "you are much occupied about Madame de +la Motte, and the missing necklace." + +"Have you found it?" asked M. de Crosne, laughing. + +"No, sir, but Madame de la Motte lived in the Rue St. Claude----" + +"I know, opposite you." + +"Oh, if you know all about Oliva, I have nothing more to tell you." + +"Who is Oliva?" + +"You do not know? Then, sir, imagine a young girl very pretty, with blue +eyes, and an oval face, a style of beauty something like her majesty, +for instance." + +"Well, sir?" + +"This young girl led a bad life; it gave me pain to see it; for she was +once in the service of an old friend of mine, M. de Taverney--but I +weary you." + +"Oh no, pray go on." + +"Well, Oliva led not only a bad life, but an unhappy one, with a fellow +she called her lover, who beat and robbed her." + +"Beausire," said the magistrate. + +"Ah! you know him. You are still more a magician than I am. Well, one +day when Beausire had beaten the poor girl more than usual, she fled to +me for refuge; I pitied her, and gave her shelter in one of my houses." + +"In your house!" cried M. de Crosne in surprise. + +"Oh! why not? I am a bachelor," said Cagliostro, with an air which quite +deceived M. de Crosne. + +"That is then the reason why my agents could not find her." + +"What! you were seeking this little girl? Had she then been guilty of +any crime?" + +"No, sir, no; pray go on." + +"Oh! I have done. I lodged her at my house, and that is all." + +"No, sir, for you just now associated her name with that of Madame de la +Motte." + +"Only as neighbors." + +"But, sir, this Oliva, whom you say you had in your house, I found in +the country with Beausire." + +"With Beausire? Ah! then I have wronged Madame de la Motte." + +"How so, sir?" + +"Why just as I thought I had hopes of reforming Oliva, and bringing her +back to an honest life, some one carried her away from me." + +"That is strange." + +"Is it not? And I firmly believed it to be Madame de la Motte. But as +you found her with Beausire, it was not she, and all her signals and +correspondence with Oliva meant nothing." + +"With Oliva?" + +"Yes." + +"They met?" + +"Yes, Madame de la Motte found a way to take Oliva out every night." + +"Are you sure of this?" + +"I saw and heard her." + +"Oh, sir, you tell me what I would have paid for with one thousand +francs a word. But you are a friend of M. de Rohan?" + +"Yes." + +"You ought to know how far he was connected with this affair." + +"I do not wish to know." + +"But you know the object of these nightly excursions of Madame de la +Motte and Oliva?" + +"Of that also I wish to be ignorant." + +"Sir, I only wish to ask you one more question. Have you proofs of the +correspondence of Madame de la Motte and Oliva?" + +"Plenty." + +"What are they?" + +"Notes which Madame de la Motte used to throw over to Oliva with a +cross-bow. Several of them did not reach their destination, and were +picked up either by myself, or my servants, in the street." + +"Sir, you will be ready to produce them, if called upon?" + +"Certainly; they are perfectly innocent, and cannot injure any one." + +"And have you any other proofs of intimacy?" + +"I know that she had a method of entering my house to see Oliva. I saw +her myself, just after Oliva had disappeared, and my servants saw her +also." + +"But what did she come for, if Oliva was gone?" + +"I did not know. I saw her come out of a carriage at the corner of the +street. My idea was that she wished to attach Oliva to her, and keep her +near her." + +"And you let her do it?" + +"Why not? She is a great lady, and received at court. Why should I have +prevented her taking charge of Oliva, and taking her off my hands?" + +"What did she say when she found that Oliva was gone?" + +"She appeared distressed." + +"You suppose that Beausire carried her off?" + +"I suppose so, for you tell me you found them together. I did not +suspect him before, for he did not know where she was." + +"She must have let him know herself." + +"I think not, as she had fled from him. I think Madame de la Motte must +have sent him a key." + +"Ah! what day was it?" + +"The evening of St. Louis." + +"Monsieur, you have rendered a great service to me and to the state." + +"I am happy to hear it." + +"You shall be thanked as you deserve. I may count on the production of +the proofs you mention?" + +"I am ready, sir, to assist justice at all times." + +As Cagliostro left, he muttered, "Ah, countess! you tried to accuse +me--take care of yourself." + +Meanwhile, M. de Breteuil was sent by the king to examine Madame de la +Motte. She declared that she had proofs of her innocence, which she +would produce at the proper time; she also declared, that she would only +speak the truth in the presence of the cardinal. She was told that the +cardinal laid all the blame upon her. "Tell him then," she said, "that I +advise him not to persist in such a foolish system of defense." + +"Whom then do you accuse?" asked M. Breteuil. + +"I accuse no one," was her reply. + +A report was spread at last that the diamonds were being sold in England +by M. Reteau de Villette. This man was soon found and arrested, and +brought over and confronted with Jeanne. To her utter confusion, he +acknowledged that he had forged a receipt from the jewelers, and a +letter from the queen at the request of Madame de la Motte. She denied +furiously, and declared that she had never seen M. Reteau. M. de Crosne +produced as witness a coachman, who swore to having driven her, on the +day named, to the house of M. Reteau. Also, one of the servants of M. de +Cagliostro deposed to having seen this man on the box of Jeanne's +carriage on the night that she came to his master's house. Now, Jeanne +began to abuse the count, and accused him of having inspired M. de Rohan +with the ideas inimical to the royal dignity. M. de Rohan defended him, +and Jeanne at once plainly accused the cardinal of a violent love for +the queen. M. de Cagliostro requested to be incarcerated, and allowed to +prove his innocence publicly. Then the queen caused to be published all +the reports made to the king about the nocturnal promenades, and +requested M. de Crosne to state all that he knew about it. This public +avowal overturned all Jeanne's plans, and she denied having assisted at +any meetings between the queen and the cardinal. This declaration would +have cleared the queen, had it been possible to attach any credence to +what this woman said. While Jeanne continued to deny that she had ever +been in the park, they brought forward Oliva at last, a living witness +of all the falsehoods of the countess. When Oliva was shown to the +cardinal the blow was dreadful. He saw at last how infamously he had +been played upon. This man, so full of delicacy and noble passions, +discovered that an adventuress had led him to insult and despise the +Queen of France; a woman whom he loved, and who was innocent. He would +have shed all his blood at the feet of Marie Antoinette to make +atonement. But he could not even acknowledge his mistake without owning +that he loved her--even his excuse would involve an offense; so he was +obliged to keep silent, and allow Jeanne to deny everything. Oliva +confessed all without reserve. At last Jeanne, driven from every hold, +confessed that she had deceived the cardinal, but declared that it was +done with the consent of the queen, who watched and enjoyed the scene, +hidden behind the trees. To this story she kept; the queen could never +disprove it, and there were plenty of people willing to believe it true. + + + + +CHAPTER LXXXVIII. + +THE LAST HOPE LOST. + + +Here the affair therefore rested, for Jeanne was determined to share the +blame with some one, as she could not turn it from herself. All her +calculations had been defeated by the frankness with which the queen had +met, and made public, every accusation against her. + +At last Jeanne wrote the following letter to the queen: + + "MADAME, + + "In spite of my painful position and rigorous treatment, I have not + uttered a complaint; all that has been tried to extort avowals from + me has failed to make me compromise my sovereign. However, although + persuaded that my constancy and discretion will facilitate my + release from my present position, the friends of the cardinal make + me fear I shall become his victim. A long imprisonment, endless + questions, and the shame and despair of being accused of such + crimes, begin to exhaust my courage, and I tremble lest my + constancy should at last give way. Your majesty might end all this + by a few words to M. de Breteuil, who could give the affair in the + king's eyes any color your majesty likes without compromising you. + It is the fear of being compelled to reveal all which makes me beg + your majesty to take steps to relieve me from my painful position. + I am, with profound respect, + + "Your humble servant, + + "JEANNE DE LA MOTTE." + +Jeanne calculated either that this letter would frighten the queen, or, +what was more probable, would never reach her hands, but be carried by +the messenger to the governor of the Bastile, where it could hardly fail +to tell against the queen. She then wrote to the cardinal: + + "I cannot conceive, monseigneur, why you persist in not speaking + plainly. It seems to me that your best plan would be to confide + fully in our judges. As for me, I am resolved to be silent if you + will not second me; but why do you not speak? Explain all the + circumstances of this mysterious affair, for if I were to speak + first, and you not support me, I should be sacrificed to the + vengeance of her who wishes to ruin us. But I have written her a + letter which will perhaps induce her to spare us, who have nothing + to reproach ourselves with." + +This letter she gave to the cardinal at their last confrontation. He +grew pale with anger at her audacity, and left the room. Then Jeanne +produced her letter to the queen, and begged the Abbé Lekel, chaplain of +the Bastile, who had accompanied the cardinal, and was devoted to him, +to take charge of it and convey it to the queen. He refused to take it. +She declared that if he did not she would produce M. de Rohan's letters +to the queen. "And take care, sir," added she, "for they will cause his +head to fall on the scaffold." + +At this moment the cardinal reappeared. + +"Madame," said he, "let my head fall, so that I have the satisfaction of +seeing also the scaffold which you shall mount as a thief and a forger. +Come, Abbé." He went away, leaving Jeanne devoured with rage and +disappointment at her failures at every turn. + + + + +CHAPTER LXXXIX. + +THE BAPTISM OF THE LITTLE BEAUSIRE. + + +Madame de la Motte had deceived herself on all points, Cagliostro upon +none. Once in the Bastile, he saw a good opportunity for working at the +ruin of the monarchy, which he had been trying to undermine for so many +years. He prepared the famous letter, dated from London, which appeared +a month after. In this letter, after attacking king, queen, cardinal, +and even M. de Breteuil, he said, "Yes, I repeat, now free after my +imprisonment, there is no crime that would not be expiated by six months +in the Bastile. They ask me if I shall ever return to France? Yes, I +reply, when the Bastile becomes a public promenade. You have all that is +necessary to happiness, you Frenchmen; a fertile soil and genial +climate, good hearts, gay tempers, genius, and grace. You only want, my +friends, one little thing--to feel sure of sleeping quietly in your beds +when you are innocent." + +Oliva kept her word faithfully to Cagliostro, and uttered no word that +could compromise him. She threw all the blame on Madame de la Motte, and +asserted vehemently her own innocent participation in what she believed +to be a joke, played on a gentleman unknown to her. All this time she +did not see Beausire, but she had a souvenir of him; for in the month of +May she gave birth to a son. Beausire was allowed to attend the baptism, +which took place in the prison, which he did with much pleasure, +swearing that if Oliva ever recovered her liberty he would make her his +wife. + + + + +CHAPTER XC. + +THE TRIAL. + + +The day at last arrived, after long investigations, when the judgment of +the court was to be pronounced. All the accused had been removed to the +Conciergerie, to be in readiness to appear when called on. Oliva +continued to be frank and timid; Cagliostro, tranquil and indifferent; +Reteau, despairing, cowardly, and weeping; and Jeanne, violent, +menacing, and venomous. She had managed to interest the keeper and his +wife, and thus obtain more freedom and indulgences. + +The first who took his place on the wooden stool, which was appropriated +for the accused, was Reteau, who asked pardon with tears and prayers, +declared all he knew, and avowed his crimes. He interested no one; he +was simply a knave and a coward. After him came Madame de la Motte. Her +appearance produced a great sensation; at the sight of the disgraceful +seat prepared for her, she, who called herself a Valois, threw around +her furious looks, but, meeting curiosity instead of sympathy, repressed +her rage. When interrogated, she continued, as before, to throw out +insinuations, stating nothing clearly but her own innocence. When +questioned as to the letters which she was reported to have said passed +between the queen and the cardinal, she answered that she did not wish +to compromise the queen, and that the cardinal was best able to answer +this question himself. "Ask him to produce them," said she; "I wish to +say nothing about them." She inspired in nearly all a feeling of +distrust and anger. When she retired, her only consolation was the hope +of seeing the cardinal in the seat after her; and her rage was extreme +when she saw it taken away, and an armchair brought for his use. The +cardinal advanced, accompanied by four attendants, and the governor of +the Bastile walked by his side. At his entrance he was greeted by a long +murmur of sympathy and respect; it was echoed by loud shouts from +without--it was the people who cheered him. He was pale, and much moved. +The president spoke politely to him, and begged him to sit down. When he +spoke, it was with a trembling voice, and a troubled and even humble +manner. He gave excuses rather than proofs, and supplications more than +reasons, but said little, and seemed to be deserted by his former +eloquence. Oliva came next. The wooden stool was brought back for her. +Many people trembled at seeing this living image of the queen sitting +there as a criminal. Then Cagliostro was called, but almost as a matter +of form, and dismissed immediately. The court then announced that the +proceedings were concluded, and the deliberations about to begin. All +the prisoners were locked for the night in the Conciergerie. The +sentence was not pronounced till the following day. Jeanne seated +herself early at the window, and before long heard a tremendous +shouting from the crowd collected to hear the sentence. This continued +for some time, when she distinctly heard a passer-by say, "A grand day +for the cardinal!" "For the cardinal," thought Jeanne; "then he is +acquitted;" and she ran to M. Hubert, the keeper, to ask, but he did not +know. "He must be acquitted!" she said; "they said it was a grand day +for him. But I----" + +"Well, madame," said he, "if he is acquitted, why should you not be +acquitted also?" + +Jeanne returned to the window. "You are wrong, madame," said Madame +Hubert to her; "you only become agitated, without perfectly +understanding what is passing. Pray remain quiet until your counsel +comes to communicate your fate." + +"I cannot," said Jeanne, continuing to listen to what passed in the +street. + +A woman passed, gaily dressed, and with a bouquet in her hand. "He shall +have my bouquet, the dear man!" said she. "Oh, I would embrace him if I +could!" + +"And I also," said another. + +"He is so handsome!" said a third. + +"It must be the cardinal," said Jeanne; "he is acquitted." + +And she said this with so much bitterness that the keeper said, "But, +madame, do you not wish the poor prisoner to be released?" + +Jeanne, unwilling to lose their sympathy, replied, "Oh, you +misunderstand me. Do you believe me so envious and wicked as to wish ill +to my companions in misfortune? Oh no; I trust he is free. It is only +impatience to learn my own fate, and you tell me nothing." + +"We do not know," replied they. + +Then other loud cries were heard. Jeanne could see the crowd pressing +round an open carriage, which was going slowly along. Flowers were +thrown, hats waved; some even mounted on the steps to kiss the hand of a +man who sat grave and half frightened at his own popularity. This was +the cardinal. Another man sat by him, and cries of "Vive Cagliostro!" +were mingled with the shouts for M. de Rohan. Jeanne began to gather +courage from all this sympathy for those whom she chose to call the +queen's victims; but suddenly the thought flashed on her, "They are +already set free, and no one has even been to announce my sentence!" and +she trembled. New shouts now drew her attention to a coach, which was +also advancing, followed by a crowd; and in this Jeanne recognized +Oliva, who sat smiling with delight at the people who cheered her, +holding her child in her arms. Then Jeanne, seeing all these people +free, happy, and fêted, began to utter loud complaints that she was not +also liberated, or at least told her fate. + +"Calm yourself, madame," said Madame Hubert. + +"But tell me, for you must know." + +"Madame." + +"I implore you! You see how I suffer." + +"We are forbidden, madame." + +"Is it so frightful that you dare not?" + +"Oh no; calm yourself." + +"Then speak." + +"Will you be patient, and not betray us?" + +"I swear." + +"Well, the cardinal is acquitted." + +"I know it." + +"M. de Cagliostro and Mademoiselle Oliva are also acquitted, M. Reteau +condemned to the galleys----" + +"And I?" cried Jeanne, furiously. + +"Madame, you promised to be patient." + +"See--speak--I am calm." + +"Banished," said the woman, feebly. + +A flash of delight shone for a moment in the eyes of the countess; then +she pretended to faint, and threw herself into the arms of Madame +Hubert. "What would it have been," thought she, "if I had told her the +truth!" + +"Banishment!" thought Jeanne; "that is liberty, riches, vengeance; it is +what I hoped for. I have won!" + + + + +CHAPTER XCI. + +THE EXECUTION. + + +Jeanne waited for her counsel to come and announce her fate; but, being +now at ease, said to herself, "What do I care that I am thought more +guilty than M. de Rohan? I am banished--that is to say, I can carry away +my million and a half with me, and live under the orange trees of +Seville during the winter, and in Germany or England in the summer. Then +I can tell my own story, and, young, rich, and celebrated, live as I +please among my friends." + +Pleasing herself with these notions, she commenced settling all her +future plans, the disposal of her diamonds, and her establishment in +London. This brought to her mind M. Reteau. "Poor fellow!" thought she, +"it is he who pays for all; some one must suffer, and it always falls on +the humblest instrument. Poor Reteau pays now for his pamphlets against +the queen; he has led a hard life of blows and escapes, and now it +terminates with the galleys." She dined with M. and Madame Hubert, and +was quite gay; but they did not respond, and were silent and uneasy. +Jeanne, however, felt so happy that she cared little for their manner +towards her. After dinner, she asked when they were coming to read her +sentence. + +M. Hubert said they were probably waiting till she returned to her room. +She therefore rose to go, when Madame Hubert ran to her and took her +hands, looking at her with an expression of so much pity and sympathy, +that it struck her for a moment with terror. She was about to question +her, but Hubert took her hand, and led her from the room. When she +reached her own apartment, she found eight soldiers waiting outside; she +felt surprised, but went in, and allowed the man to lock her up as +usual. Soon, however, the door opened again, and one of the turnkeys +appeared. + +"Will madame please to follow me?" he said. + +"Where?" + +"Below." + +"What for? What do they want with me?" + +"Madame, M. Viollet, your counsel, wishes to speak to you." + +"Why does he not come here?" + +"Madame, he has received letters from Versailles, and wishes to show +them to you." + +"Letters from Versailles," thought Jeanne; "perhaps the queen has +interested herself for me, since the sentence was passed. Wait a +little," she said; "Till I arrange my dress." In five minutes she was +ready. "Perhaps," she thought, "M. Viollet has come to get me to leave +France at once, and the queen is anxious to facilitate the departure of +so dangerous an enemy." + +She followed the turnkey down-stairs, and they entered a room, which +looked like a vault; it was damp, and almost dark. + +"Sir," said she, trying to overcome her terror, "where is M. Viollet?" + +The man did not reply. + +"What do you want?" continued she; "have you anything to say to me? you +have chosen a very singular place for a rendezvous." + +"We are waiting for M. Viollet," he replied. + +"It is not possible that M. Viollet should wish for me to wait for him +here." All at once, another door, which Jeanne had not before observed, +opened, and three men entered. Jeanne looked at them in surprise, and +with growing terror. One of them, who was dressed in black, with a roll +of papers in his hand, advanced, and said: + +"You are Jeanne de St. Rémy de Valois, wife of Marie Antoine, Count de +la Motte?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Born at Fontette, on the 22d of July, 1756?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"You live at Paris, Rue St. Claude?" + +"Yes, sir; but why these questions?" + +"Madame, I am the registrar of the court, and I am come to read to you +the sentence of the court of the 31st of May, 1786." + +Jeanne trembled again, and now looked at the other two men; one had a +gray dress with steel buttons, the other a fur cap on and an apron, +which seemed to her spotted with blood. She drew back, but the registrar +said, "On your knees, madame, if you please." + +"On my knees?" cried Jeanne; "I, a Valois!" + +"It is the order, madame." + +"But, sir, it is an unheard-of thing, except where some degrading +sentence has been pronounced; and banishment is not such." + +"I did not tell you you were sentenced to banishment," said he gravely. + +"But to what, then?" + +"I will tell you, madame, when you are on your knees." + +"Never!" + +"Madame, I only follow my instructions." + +"Never! I tell you." + +"Madame, it is the order that when the condemned refuse to kneel, they +should be forced to do it." + +"Force--to a woman!" + +"There is no distinction in the eyes of justice." + +"Ah!" cried Jeanne, "this is the queen's doings; I recognize the hands +of an enemy." + +"You are wrong to accuse the queen; she has nothing to do with the +orders of the court. Come, madame, I beg you to spare me the necessity +of violence, and kneel down." + +"Never!" and she planted herself firmly in a corner of the room. + +The registrar then signed to the two other men, who, approaching, seized +her, and in spite of her cries dragged her into the middle of the room. +But she bounded up again. + +"Let me stand," said she, "and I will listen patiently." + +"Madame, whenever criminals are punished by whipping, they kneel to +receive the sentence." + +"Whipping!" screamed Jeanne; "miserable wretch, how dare you----" + +The men forced her on her knees once more, and held her down, but she +struggled so furiously that they called out, "Read quickly, monsieur, +for we cannot hold her." + +"I will never hear such an infamous sentence," she cried; and indeed she +drowned his voice so effectually with her screams, that although he +read, not a word could be heard. + +He replaced his papers in his pocket, and she, thinking he had finished, +stopped her cries. Then he said, "And the sentence shall be executed at +the place of executions, Cour de Justice." + +"Publicly!" screamed she. + +"Monsieur de Paris, I deliver you this woman," said the registrar, +addressing the man with the leathern apron. + +"Who is this man?" cried Jeanne, in a fright. + +"The executioner," replied the registrar. + +The two men then took hold of her to lead her out, but her resistance +was so violent that they were obliged to drag her along by force, and +she never ceased uttering the most frantic cries. They took her thus +into the court called Cour de Justice, where there was a scaffold and +which was crowded with spectators. On a platform, raised about eight +feet, was a post garnished with iron rings, and with a ladder to mount +to it. This place was surrounded with soldiers. When she appeared, cries +of "Here she is!" mingled with much abuse, were heard from the crowd. +Numbers of the partisans of M. de Rohan had assembled to hoot her, and +cries of "A bas la Motte, the forger!" were heard on every side, and +those who tried to express pity for her were soon silenced. Then she +cried in a loud voice, "Do you know who I am? I am of the blood of your +kings. They strike in me, not a criminal, but a rival; not only a rival, +but an accomplice. Yes," repeated she, as the people kept silence to +kept listen, "an accomplice. They punish one who knows the secrets +of----" + +"Take care," interrupted the registrar. + +She turned and saw the executioner with the whip in his hand. At this +sight she forgot her desire to captivate the multitude, and even her +hatred, and sinking on her knees she said, "Have pity!" and seized his +hand; but he raised the other, and let the whip fall lightly on her +shoulders. She jumped up, and was about to try and throw herself off the +scaffold, when she saw the other man, who was drawing from a fire a hot +iron. At this sight she uttered a perfect howl, which was echoed by the +people. + +"Help! help!" she cried, trying to shake off the cord with which they +were tying her hands. The executioner at last forced her on her knees, +and tore open her dress; but she cried, with a voice which was heard +through all the tumult, "Cowardly Frenchmen! you do not defend me, but +let me be tortured; oh! it is my own fault. If I had said all I knew of +the queen I should have been----" + +She could say no more, for she was gagged by the attendants: then two +men held her, while the executioner performed his office. At the touch +of the iron she fainted, and was carried back insensible to the +Conciergerie when the crowd gradually dispersed. + + + + +CHAPTER XCII. + +THE MARRIAGE. + + +On the same day at noon the king entered a drawing-room, where the queen +was sitting in full dress, but pale through her rouge, and surrounded by +a party of ladies and gentlemen. He glanced frequently towards the door. +"Are not the young couple ready? I believe it is noon," he said. + +"Sire, M. de Charny is waiting in the gallery for your majesty's +orders," said the queen, with a violent effort. + +"Oh! let him come in." The queen turned from the door. "The bride ought +to be here also," continued the king, "it is time." + +"Your majesty must excuse Mademoiselle de Taverney, if she is late," +replied M. de Charny, advancing; "for since the death of her father she +has not left her bed until to-day, and she fainted when she did so." + +"This dear child loved her father so much," replied the king, "but we +hope a good husband will console her. M. de Breteuil," said he, turning +to that gentleman, "have you made out the order of banishment for M. de +Cagliostro?" + +"Yes, sire." + +"And that De la Motte. Is it not to-day she is to be branded?" + +At this moment, Andrée appeared, dressed in white like a bride, and with +cheeks nearly as white as her dress. She advanced leaning on her +brother's arm. M. de Suffren, leading his nephew, came to meet her, and +then drew back to allow her to approach the king. + +"Mademoiselle," said Louis, taking her hand, "I begged of you to hasten +this marriage, instead of waiting until the time of your mourning had +expired, that I might have the pleasure of assisting at the ceremony; +for to-morrow I and the queen commence a tour through France." And he led +Andrée up to the queen, who could hardly stand, and did not raise her +eyes. The king then, putting Andrée's hand into Philippe's, said, +"Gentlemen, to the chapel,"--and they began to move. The queen kneeled +on her prie Dieu, her face buried in her hands, praying for strength. +Charny, though pale as death, feeling that all eyes were upon him, +appeared calm and strong. Andrée remained immovable as a statue; she did +not pray--she had nothing to ask, to hope for, or to fear. The ceremony +over, the king kissed Andrée on the forehead, saying, "Madame la +Comtesse, go to the queen, she wishes to give you a wedding present." + +"Oh!" murmured Andrée to Philippe, "it is too much; I can bear no more; +I cannot do that." + +"Courage, sister, one effort more." + +"I cannot, Philippe; if she speaks to me, I shall die." + +"Then, you will be happier than I, for I cannot die." + +Andrée said no more, but went to the queen. She found her in her chair +with closed eyes and clasped hands, seeming more dead than alive, except +for the shudders which, shook her from time to time. Andrée waited +tremblingly to hear her speak; but, after a minute, she rose slowly, and +took from the table a paper, which she put into Andrée's hands. Andrée +opened it, and read: + + "Andrée, you have saved me. My honor comes from you; my life + belongs to you. In the name of this honor, which has cost you so + dear, I swear to you that you may call me sister without blushing. + This paper is the pledge of my gratitude, the dowry which I give + you. Your heart is noble and will thank me for this gift. + +"MARIE ANTOINETTE DE LORRAINE D'AUTRICHE." + +Andrée looked at the queen, and saw tears falling from her eyes; she +seemed expecting an answer, but Andrée, putting the letter in the fire, +turned and left the room. Then Charny, who was waiting for her, took her +hand, and they, each pale and silent, left the room. Two +traveling-carriages were in the courtyard; Andrée got into one, and then +said: + +"Sir, I believe you go to Picardy." + +"Yes, madame." + +"And I to where my mother lies dead. Adieu, monsieur." + +Charny bowed, but did not reply, and Andrée drove off. + +Charny himself, after giving his hand to Philippe, got into the other, +and also drove off. + +Then Philippe cried, in a tone of anguish, "My task is done!" and he too +vanished. + +THE END. + + + + +List of illustrations: + +CAGLIOSTRO AND OLIVA + +THE QUEEN'S NECKLACE + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE QUEEN'S NECKLACE*** + + +******* This file should be named 20122-8.txt or 20122-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/0/1/2/20122 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + diff --git a/old/20122-8.zip b/old/20122-8.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5df7a34 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/20122-8.zip diff --git a/old/20122.txt b/old/20122.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..229544d --- /dev/null +++ b/old/20122.txt @@ -0,0 +1,20695 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Queen's Necklace, by Alexandre Dumas père + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Queen's Necklace + + +Author: Alexandre Dumas père + + + +Release Date: December 16, 2006 [eBook #20122] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE QUEEN'S NECKLACE*** + + +E-text prepared by Juergen Lohnert, Wilelmina Maillière, and the Project +Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net/) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 20122-h.htm or 20122-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/0/1/2/20122/20122-h/20122-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/0/1/2/20122/20122-h.zip) + + + + + +The Works of Alexandre Dumas +in Thirty Volumes + +THE QUEEN'S NECKLACE + +Illustrated with Drawings on Wood by +Eminent French and American Artists + + + + + + + +[Illustration: CAGLIOSTRO AND OLIVA +_Dumas, Vol. Eight_] + + +[Illustration] + + + +New York +P.F. Collier and Son +MCMIV + + + + +THE QUEEN'S NECKLACE. + + +PROLOGUE.--THE PREDICTIONS. + +AN OLD NOBLEMAN AND AN OLD MAITRE-D'HOTEL. + + +It was the beginning of April, 1784, between twelve and one o'clock. Our +old acquaintance, the Marshal de Richelieu, having with his own hands +colored his eyebrows with a perfumed dye, pushed away the mirror which +was held to him by his valet, the successor of his faithful Raffe and +shaking his head in the manner peculiar to himself, "Ah!" said he, "now +I look myself;" and rising from his seat with juvenile vivacity, he +commenced shaking off the powder which had fallen from his wig over his +blue velvet coat, then, after taking a turn or two up and down his room, +called for his maitre-d'hotel. + +In five minutes this personage made his appearance, elaborately dressed. + +The marshal turned towards him, and with a gravity befitting the +occasion, said, "Sir, I suppose you have prepared me a good dinner?" + +"Certainly, your grace." + +"You have the list of my guests?" + +"I remember them perfectly, your grace; I have prepared a dinner for +nine." + +"There are two sorts of dinners, sir," said the marshal. + +"True, your grace, but----" + +The marshal interrupted him with a slightly impatient movement, although +still dignified. + +"Do you know, sir, that whenever I have heard the word 'but,' and I have +heard it many times in the course of eighty-eight years, it has been +each time, I am sorry to say, the harbinger of some folly." + +"Your grace----" + +"In the first place, at what time do we dine?" + +"Your grace, the citizens dine at two, the bar at three, the nobility at +four----" + +"And I, sir?" + +"Your grace will dine to-day at five." + +"Oh, at five!" + +"Yes, your grace, like the king----" + +"And why like the king?" + +"Because, on the list of your guests, is the name of a king." + +"Not so, sir, you mistake; all my guests to-day are simply noblemen." + +"Your grace is surely jesting; the Count Haga,[A] who is among the +guests----" + +[A] The name of Count Haga was well known as one assumed by the King of +Sweden when traveling in France. + +"Well, sir!" + +"The Count Haga is a king." + +"I know no king so called." + +"Your grace must pardon me then," said the maitre-d'hotel, bowing, "but, +I believed, supposed----" + +"Your business, sir, is neither to believe nor suppose; your business is +to read, without comment, the orders I give you. When I wish a thing to +be known, I tell it; when I do not tell it, I wish it unknown." + +The maitre-d'hotel bowed again, more respectfully, perhaps, than he +would have done to a reigning monarch. + +"Therefore, sir," continued the old marshal, "you will, as I have none +but noblemen to dinner, let us dine at my usual hour, four o'clock." + +At this order, the countenance of the maitre-d'hotel became clouded as +if he had heard his sentence of death; he grew deadly pale; then, +recovering himself, with the courage of despair he said, "In any event, +your grace cannot dine before five o'clock." + +"Why so, sir?" cried the marshal. + +"Because it is utterly impossible." + +"Sir," said the marshal, with a haughty air, "it is now, I believe, +twenty years since you entered my service?" + +"Twenty-one years, a month, and two weeks." + +"Well, sir, to these twenty-one years, a month, and two weeks, you will +not add a day, nor an hour. You understand me, sir," he continued, +biting his thin lips and depressing his eyebrows; "this evening you seek +a new master. I do not choose that the word impossible shall be +pronounced in my house; I am too old now to begin to learn its meaning." + +The maitre-d'hotel bowed a third time. + +"This evening," said he, "I shall have taken leave of your grace, but, +at least, up to the last moment, my duty shall have been performed as it +should be;" and he made two steps towards the door. + +"What do you call as it should be?" cried the marshal. "Learn, sir, that +to do it as it suits me is to do it as it should be. Now, I wish to dine +at four, and it does not suit me, when I wish to dine at four, to be +obliged to wait till five." + +"Your grace," replied the maitre-d'hotel, gravely, "I have served as +butler to his highness the Prince de Soubise, and as steward to his +eminence the Cardinal de Rohan. With the first, his majesty, the late +King of France, dined once a year; with the second, the Emperor of +Austria dined once a month. I know, therefore, how a sovereign should be +treated. When he visited the Prince de Soubise, Louis XV. called himself +in vain the Baron de Gonesse; at the house of M. de Rohan, the Emperor +Joseph was announced as the Count de Packenstein; but he was none the +less emperor. To-day, your grace also receives a guest, who vainly calls +himself Count Haga--Count Haga is still King of Sweden. I shall leave +your service this evening, but Count Haga will have been treated like a +king." + +"But that," said the marshal, "is the very thing that I am tiring myself +to death in forbidding; Count Haga wishes to preserve his incognito as +strictly as possible. Well do I see through your absurd vanity; it is +not the crown that you honor, but yourself that you wish to glorify; I +repeat again, that I do not wish it imagined that I have a king here." + +"What, then, does your grace take me for? It is not that I wish it known +that there is a king here." + +"Then in heaven's name do not be obstinate, but let us have dinner at +four." + +"But at four o'clock, your grace, what I am expecting will not have +arrived." + +"What are you expecting? a fish, like M. Vatel?" + +"Does your grace wish that I should tell you?" + +"On my faith, I am curious." + +"Then, your grace, I wait for a bottle of wine." + +"A bottle of wine! Explain yourself, sir, the thing begins to interest +me." + +"Listen then, your grace; his majesty the King of Sweden--I beg pardon, +the Count Haga I should have said--drinks nothing but tokay." + +"Well, am I so poor as to have no tokay in my cellar? If so, I must +dismiss my butler." + +"Not so, your grace; on the contrary, you have about sixty bottles." + +"Well, do you think Count Haga will drink sixty bottles with his +dinner?" + +"No, your grace; but when Count Haga first visited France, when he was +only prince royal, he dined with the late king, who had received twelve +bottles of tokay from the Emperor of Austria. You are aware that the +tokay of the finest vintages is reserved exclusively for the cellar of +the emperor, and that kings themselves can only drink it when he pleases +to send it to them." + +"I know it." + +"Then, your grace, of these twelve bottles of which the prince royal +drank, only two remain. One is in the cellar of his majesty Louis +XVI.----" + +"And the other?" + +"Ah, your grace!" said the maitre-d'hotel, with a triumphant smile, for +he felt that, after the long battle he had been fighting, the moment of +victory was at hand, "the other one was stolen." + +"By whom, then?" + +"By one of my friends, the late king's butler, who was under great +obligations to me." + +"Oh! and so he gave it to you." + +"Certainly, your grace," said the maitre-d'hotel with pride. + +"And what did you do with it?" + +"I placed it carefully in my master's cellar." + +"Your master! And who was your master at that time?" + +"His eminence the Cardinal de Rohan." + +"Ah, mon Dieu! at Strasbourg?" + +"At Saverne." + +"And you have sent to seek this bottle for me!" cried the old marshal. + +"For you, your grace," replied the maitre-d'hotel, in a tone which +plainly said, "ungrateful as you are." + +The Duke de Richelieu seized the hand of the old servant and cried, "I +beg pardon; you are the king of maitres d'hotel." + +"And you would have dismissed me," he replied, with an indescribable +shrug of his shoulders. + +"Oh, I will pay you one hundred pistoles for this bottle of wine." + +"And the expenses of its coming here will be another hundred; but you +will grant that it is worth it." + +"I will grant anything you please, and, to begin, from to-day I double +your salary." + +"I seek no reward, your grace; I have but done my duty." + +"And when will your courier arrive?" + +"Your grace may judge if I have lost time: on what day did I have my +orders for the dinner?" + +"Why, three days ago, I believe." + +"It takes a courier, at his utmost speed, twenty-four hours to go, and +the same to return." + +"There still remain twenty-four hours," said the marshal; "how have they +been employed?" + +"Alas, your grace, they were lost. The idea only came to me the day +after I received the list of your guests. Now calculate the time +necessary for the negotiation, and you will perceive that in asking you +to wait till five I am only doing what I am absolutely obliged to do." + +"The bottle is not yet arrived, then?" + +"No, your grace." + +"Ah, sir, if your colleague at Saverne be as devoted to the Prince de +Rohan as you are to me, and should refuse the bottle, as you would do in +his place----" + +"I? your grace----" + +"Yes; you would not, I suppose, have given away such a bottle, had it +belonged to me?" + +"I beg your pardon, humbly, your grace; but had a friend, having a king +to provide for, asked me for your best bottle of wine, he should have +had it immediately." + +"Oh!" said the marshal, with a grimace. + +"It is only by helping others that we can expect help in our own need, +your grace." + +"Well, then, I suppose we may calculate that it will be given, but there +is still another risk--if the bottle should be broken?" + +"Oh! your grace, who would break a bottle of wine of that value?" + +"Well, I trust not; what time, then, do you expect your courier?" + +"At four o'clock precisely." + +"Then why not dine at four?" replied the marshal. + +"Your grace, the wine must rest for an hour; and had it not been for an +invention of my own, it would have required three days to recover +itself." + +Beaten at all points, the marshal gave way. + +"Besides," continued the old servant, "be sure, your grace, that your +guests will not arrive before half-past four." + +"And why not?" + +"Consider, your grace: to begin with M. de Launay; he comes from the +Bastile, and with the ice at present covering the streets of Paris----" + +"No; but he will leave after the prisoners' dinner, at twelve o'clock." + +"Pardon me, your grace, but the dinner hour at the Bastile has been +changed since your grace was there; it is now one." + +"Sir, you are learned on all points; pray go on." + +"Madame Dubarry comes from the Luciennes, one continued descent, and in +this frost." + +"That would not prevent her being punctual, since she is no longer a +duke's favorite; she plays the queen only among barons; but let me tell +you, sir, that I desire to have dinner early on account of M. de la +Perouse, who sets off to-night, and would not wish to be late." + +"But, your grace, M. de la Perouse is with the king, discussing +geography and cosmography; he will not get away too early." + +"It is possible." + +"It is certain, your grace, and it will be the same with M. de Favras, +who is with the Count de Provence, talking, no doubt, of the new play by +the Canon de Beaumarchais." + +"You mean the 'Marriage of Figaro'?" + +"Yes, your grace." + +"Why, you are quite literary also, it seems." + +"In my leisure moments I read, your grace." + +"We have, however, M. de Condorcet, who, being a geometrician, should at +least be punctual." + +"Yes; but he will be deep in some calculation, from which, when he +rouses himself, it will probably be at least half an hour too late. As +for the Count Cagliostro, as he is a stranger, and not well acquainted +with the customs of Versailles, he will, in all probability, make us +wait for him." + +"Well," said the marshal, "you have disposed of all my guests, except M. +de Taverney, in a manner worthy of Homer, or of my poor Raffe." + +The maitre-d'hotel bowed. "I have not," said he, "named M. de Taverney, +because, being an old friend, he will probably be punctual." + +"Good; and where do we dine?" + +"In the great dining-room, your grace." + +"But we shall freeze there." + +"It has been warmed for three days, your grace; and I believe you will +find it perfectly comfortable." + +"Very well; but there is a clock striking! Why, it is half-past four!" +cried the marshal. + +"Yes, your grace; and there is the courier entering the courtyard with +my bottle of tokay." + +"May I continue for another twenty years to be served in this manner!" +said the marshal, turning again to his looking-glass, while the +maitre-d'hotel ran down-stairs. + +"Twenty years!" said a laughing voice, interrupting the marshal in his +survey of himself; "twenty years, my dear duke! I wish them you; but +then I shall be sixty--I shall be very old." + +"You, countess!" cried the marshal, "you are my first arrival, and, mon +Dieu! you look as young and charming as ever." + +"Duke, I am frozen." + +"Come into the boudoir, then." + +"Oh! tete-a-tete, marshal?" + +"Not so," replied a somewhat broken voice. + +"Ah! Taverney!" said the marshal; and then whispering to the countess, +"Plague take him for disturbing us!" + +Madame Dubarry laughed, and they all entered the adjoining room. + + * * * * * + + + + + +II.--M. DE LA PEROUSE. + + +At the same moment, the noise of carriages in the street warned the +marshal that his guests were arriving; and soon after, thanks to the +punctuality of his maitre-d'hotel, nine persons were seated round the +oval table in the dining-room. Nine lackeys, silent as shadows, quick +without bustle, and attentive without importunity, glided over the +carpet, and passed among the guests, without ever touching their chairs, +which were surrounded with furs, which were wrapped round the legs of +the sitters. These furs, with the heat from the stoves, and the odors +from the wine and the dinner, diffused a degree of comfort, which +manifested itself in the gaiety of the guests, who had just finished +their soup. + +No sound was heard from without, and none within, save that made by the +guests themselves; for the plates were changed, and the dishes moved +round, with the most perfect quiet. Nor from the maitre d'hotel could a +whisper be heard; he seemed to give his orders with his eyes. + +The guests, therefore, began to feel as though they were alone. It +seemed to them that servants so silent must also be deaf. + +M. de Richelieu was the first who broke the silence, by saying to the +guest on his right hand, "But, count, you drink nothing." + +This was addressed to a man about thirty-eight years of age, short, +fair-haired, and with high shoulders; his eye a clear blue, now bright, +but oftener with a pensive expression, and with nobility stamped +unmistakably on his open and manly forehead. + +"I only drink water, marshal," he replied. + +"Excepting with Louis XV.," returned the marshal; "I had the honor of +dining at his table with you, and you deigned that day to drink wine." + +"Ah! you recall a pleasing remembrance, marshal; that was in 1771. It +was tokay, from the imperial cellar." + +"It was like that with which my maitre-d'hotel will now have the honor +to fill your glass," replied Richelieu, bowing. + +Count Haga raised his glass, and looked through it. The wine sparkled in +the light like liquid rubies. "It is true," said he; "marshal, I thank +you." + +These words were uttered in a manner so noble, that the guests, as if by +a common impulse, rose, and cried,-- + +"Long live the king!" + +"Yes," said Count Haga, "long live his majesty the King of France. What +say you, M. de la Perouse?" + +"My lord," replied the captain, with that tone, at once flattering and +respectful, common to those accustomed to address crowned heads, "I have +just left the king, and his majesty has shown me so much kindness, that +no one will more willingly cry 'Long live the king' than I. Only, as in +another hour I must leave you to join the two ships which his majesty +has put at my disposal, once out of this house, I shall take the liberty +of saying, 'Long life to another king, whom I should be proud to serve, +had I not already so good a master.'" + +"This health that you propose," said Madame Dubarry, who sat on the +marshal's left hand, "we are all ready to drink, but the oldest of us +should take the lead." + +"Is it you, that that concerns, or me, Taverney?" said the marshal, +laughing. + +"I do not believe," said another on the opposite side, "that M. de +Richelieu is the senior of our party." + +"Then it is you, Taverney," said the duke. + +"No, I am eight years younger than you! I was born in 1704," returned +he. + +"How rude," said the marshal, "to expose my eighty-eight years." + +"Impossible, duke! that you are eighty-eight," said M. de Condorcet. + +"It is, however, but too true; it is a calculation easy to make, and +therefore unworthy of an algebraist like you, marquis. I am of the last +century--the great century, as we call it. My date is 1696." + +"Impossible!" cried De Launay. + +"Oh, if your father were here, he would not say impossible, he, who, +when governor of the Bastile, had me for a lodger in 1714." + +"The senior in age, here, however," said M. de Favras, "is the wine +Count Haga is now drinking." + +"You are right, M. de Favras; this wine is a hundred and twenty years +old; to the wine, then, belongs the honor----" + +"One moment, gentlemen," said Cagliostro, raising his eyes, beaming with +intelligence and vivacity; "I claim the precedence." + +"You claim precedence over the tokay!" exclaimed all the guests in +chorus. + +"Assuredly," returned Cagliostro, calmly; "since it was I who bottled +it." + +"You?" + +"Yes, I; on the day of the victory won by Montecucully over the Turks in +1664." + +A burst of laughter followed these words, which Cagliostro had +pronounced with perfect gravity. + +"By this calculation, you would be something like one hundred and thirty +years old," said Madame Dubarry; "for you must have been at least ten +years old when you bottled the wine." + +"I was more than ten when I performed that operation, madame, as on the +following day I had the honor of being deputed by his majesty the +Emperor of Austria to congratulate Montecucully, who by the victory of +St. Gothard had avenged the day at Especk, in Sclavonia, in which the +infidels treated the imperialists so roughly, who were my friends and +companions in arms in 1536." + +"Oh," said Count Haga, as coldly as Cagliostro himself, "you must have +been at least ten years old, when you were at that memorable battle." + +"A terrible defeat, count," returned Cagliostro. + +"Less terrible than Cressy, however," said Condorcet, smiling. + +"True, sir, for at the battle of Cressy, it was not only an army, but +all France, that was beaten; but then this defeat was scarcely a fair +victory to the English; for King Edward had cannon, a circumstance of +which Philip de Valois was ignorant, or rather, which he would not +believe, although I warned him that I had with my own eyes seen four +pieces of artillery which Edward had bought from the Venetians." + +"Ah," said Madame Dubarry; "you knew Philip de Valois?" + +"Madame, I had the honor to be one of the five lords who escorted him +off the field of battle; I came to France with the poor old King of +Bohemia, who was blind, and who threw away his life when he heard that +the battle was lost." + +"Ah, sir," said M. de la Perouse, "how much I regret, that instead of +the battle of Cressy, it was not that of Actium at which you assisted." + +"Why so, sir?" + +"Oh, because you might have given me some nautical details, which, in +spite of Plutarch's fine narration, have ever been obscure to me." + +"Which, sir? I should be happy to be of service to you." + +"Oh, you were there, then, also?" + +"No, sir; I was then in Egypt. I had been employed by Queen Cleopatra to +restore the library at Alexandria--an office for which I was better +qualified than any one else, from having personally known the best +authors of antiquity." + +"And you have seen Queen Cleopatra?" said Madame Dubarry. + +"As I now see you, madame." + +"Was she as pretty as they say?" + +"Madame, you know beauty is only comparative; a charming queen in Egypt, +in Paris she would only have been a pretty grisette." + +"Say no harm of grisettes, count." + +"God forbid!" + +"Then Cleopatra was----" + +"Little, slender, lively, and intelligent; with large almond-shaped +eyes, a Grecian nose, teeth like pearls, and a hand like your own, +countess--a fit hand to hold a scepter. See, here is a diamond which she +gave me, and which she had had from her brother Ptolemy; she wore it on +her thumb." + +"On her thumb?" cried Madame Dubarry. + +"Yes; it was an Egyptian fashion; and I, you see, can hardly put it on +my little finger;" and taking off the ring, he handed it to Madame +Dubarry. + +It was a magnificent diamond, of such fine water, and so beautifully +cut, as to be worth thirty thousand or forty thousand francs. + +The diamond was passed round the table, and returned to Cagliostro, who, +putting it quietly on his finger again, said, "Ah, I see well you are +all incredulous; this fatal incredulity I have had to contend against +all my life. Philip de Valois would not listen to me, when I told him to +leave open a retreat to Edward; Cleopatra would not believe me when I +warned her that Antony would be beaten: the Trojans would not credit me, +when I said to them, with reference to the wooden horse, 'Cassandra is +inspired; listen to Cassandra.'" + +"Oh! it is charming," said Madame Dubarry, shaking with laughter; "I +have never met a man at once so serious and so diverting." + +"I assure you," replied Cagliostro, "that Jonathan was much more so. He +was really a charming companion; until he was killed by Saul, he nearly +drove me crazy with laughing." + +"Do you know," said the Duke de Richelieu, "if you go on in this way you +will drive poor Taverney crazy; he is so afraid of death, that he is +staring at you with all his eyes, hoping you to be an immortal." + +"Immortal I cannot say, but one thing I can affirm----" + +"What?" cried Taverney, who was the most eager listener. + +"That I have seen all the people and events of which I have been +speaking to you." + +"You have known Montecucully?" + +"As well as I know you, M. de Favras; and, indeed, much better, for this +is but the second or third time I have had the honor of seeing you, +while I lived nearly a year under the same tent with him of whom you +speak." + +"You knew Philip de Valois?" + +"As I have already had the honor of telling you, M. de Condorcet; but +when he returned to Paris, I left France and returned to Bohemia." + +"And Cleopatra." + +"Yes, countess; Cleopatra, I can tell you, had eyes as black as yours, +and shoulders almost as beautiful." + +"But what do you know of my shoulders?" + +"They are like what Cassandra's once were; and there is still a further +resemblance,--she had like you, or rather, you have like her, a little +black spot on your left side, just above the sixth rib." + +"Oh, count, now you really are a sorcerer." + +"No, no," cried the marshal, laughing; "it was I who told him." + +"And pray how do you know?" + +The marshal bit his lips, and replied, "Oh, it is a family secret." + +"Well, really, marshal," said the countess, "one should put on a double +coat of rouge before visiting you;" and turning again to Cagliostro, +"then, sir, you have the art of renewing your youth? For although you +say you are three or four thousand years old, you scarcely look forty." + +"Yes, madame, I do possess that secret." + +"Oh, then, sir, impart it to me." + +"To you, madame? It is useless; your youth is already renewed; your age +is only what it appears to be, and you do not look thirty." + +"Ah! you flatter." + +"No, madame, I speak only the truth, but it is easily explained: you +have already tried my receipt." + +"How so?" + +"You have taken my elixir." + +"I?" + +"You, countess. Oh! you cannot have forgotten it. Do you not remember a +certain house in the Rue St. Claude, and coming there on some business +respecting M. de Sartines? You remember rendering a service to one of my +friends, called Joseph Balsamo, and that this Joseph Balsamo gave you a +bottle of elixir, recommending you to take three drops every morning? Do +you not remember having done this regularly until the last year, when +the bottle became exhausted? If you do not remember all this, countess, +it is more than forgetfulness--it is ingratitude." + +"Oh! M. Cagliostro, you are telling me things----" + +"Which were only known to yourself, I am aware; but what would be the +use of being a sorcerer if one did not know one's neighbor's secrets?" + +"Then Joseph Balsamo has, like you, the secret of this famous elixir?" + +"No, madame, but he was one of my best friends, and I gave him three or +four bottles." + +"And has he any left?" + +"Oh! I know nothing of that; for the last two or three years, poor +Balsamo has disappeared. The last time I saw him was in America, on the +banks of the Ohio: he was setting off on an expedition to the Rocky +Mountains, and since then I have heard that he is dead." + +"Come, come, count," cried the marshal; "let us have the secret, by all +means." + +"Are you speaking seriously, sir?" said Count Haga. + +"Very seriously, sire,--I beg pardon, I mean count;" and Cagliostro +bowed in such a way as to indicate that his error was a voluntary one. + +"Then," said the marshal, "Madame Dubarry is not old enough to be made +young again?" + +"No, on my conscience." + +"Well, then, I will give you another subject: here is my friend, M. +Taverney--what do you say to him? Does he not look like a contemporary +of Pontius Pilate? But perhaps, he, on the contrary, is too old." + +Cagliostro looked at the baron. "No," said he. + +"Ah! my dear count," exclaimed Richelieu; "if you will renew his youth, +I will proclaim you a true pupil of Medea." + +"You wish it?" asked Cagliostro of the host, and looking round at the +same time on all assembled. + +Every one called out, "Yes." + +"And you also, M. Taverney?" + +"I more than any one," said the baron. + +"Well, it is easy," returned Cagliostro; and he drew from his pocket a +small bottle, and poured into a glass some of the liquid it contained. +Then, mixing these drops with half a glass of iced champagne, he passed +it to the baron. + +All eyes followed his movements eagerly. + +The baron took the glass, but as he was about to drink he hesitated. + +Every one began to laugh, but Cagliostro called out, "Drink, baron, or +you will lose a liquor of which each drop is worth a hundred louis +d'ors." + +"The devil," cried Richelieu; "that is even better than tokay." + +"I must then drink?" said the baron, almost trembling. + +"Or pass the glass to another, sir, that some one at least may profit by +it." + +"Pass it here," said Richelieu, holding out his hand. + +The baron raised the glass, and decided, doubtless, by the delicious +smell and the beautiful rose color which those few drops had given to +the champagne, he swallowed the magic liquor. In an instant a kind of +shiver ran through him; he seemed to feel all his old and sluggish blood +rushing quickly through his veins, from his heart to his feet, his +wrinkled skin seemed to expand, his eyes, half covered by their lids, +appeared to open without his will, and the pupils to grow and brighten, +the trembling of his hands to cease, his voice to strengthen, and his +limbs to recover their former youthful elasticity. In fact, it seemed as +if the liquid in its descent had regenerated his whole body. + +A cry of surprise, wonder, and admiration rang through the room. + +Taverney, who had been slowly eating with his gums, began to feel +famished; he seized a plate and helped himself largely to a ragout, and +then demolished a partridge, bones and all, calling out that his teeth +were coming back to him. He ate, laughed, and cried for joy, for half an +hour, while the others remained gazing at him in stupefied wonder; then +little by little he failed again, like a lamp whose oil is burning out, +and all the former signs of old age returned upon him. + +"Oh!" groaned he, "once more adieu to my youth," and he gave utterance +to a deep sigh, while two tears rolled over his cheeks. + +Instinctively, at this mournful spectacle of the old man first made +young again, and then seeming to become yet older than before, from the +contrast, the sigh was echoed all round the table. + +"It is easy to explain, gentlemen," said Cagliostro; "I gave the baron +but thirty-five drops of the elixir. He became young, therefore, for +only thirty-five minutes." + +"Oh more, more, count!" cried the old man eagerly. + +"No, sir, for perhaps the second trial would kill you." + +Of all the guests, Madame Dubarry, who had already tested the virtue of +the elixir, seemed most deeply interested while old Taverney's youth +seemed thus to renew itself; she had watched him with delight and +triumph, and half fancied herself growing young again at the sight, +while she could hardly refrain from endeavoring to snatch from +Cagliostro the wonderful bottle; but now, seeing him resume his old age +even quicker than he had lost it, "Alas!" she said sadly, "all is vanity +and deception; the effects of this wonderful secret last for thirty-five +minutes." + +"That is to say," said Count Haga, "that in order to resume your youth +for two years, you would have to drink a perfect river." + +Every one laughed. + +"Oh!" said De Condorcet, "the calculation is simple; a mere nothing of +3,153,000 drops for one year's youth." + +"An inundation," said La Perouse. + +"However, sir," continued Madame Dubarry; "according to you, I have not +needed so much, as a small bottle about four times the size of that you +hold has been sufficient to arrest the march of time for ten years." + +"Just so, madame. And you alone approach this mysterious truth. The man +who has already grown old needs this large quantity to produce an +immediate and powerful effect; but a woman of thirty, as you were, or a +man of forty, as I was, when I began to drink this elixir, still full of +life and youth, needs but ten drops at each period of decay; and with +these ten drops may eternally continue his life and youth at the same +point." + +"What do you call the periods of decay?" asked Count Haga. + +"The natural periods, count. In a state of nature, man's strength +increases until thirty-five years of age. It then remains stationary +until forty; and from that time forward, it begins to diminish, but +almost imperceptibly, until fifty; then the process becomes quicker and +quicker to the day of his death. In our state of civilization, when the +body is weakened by excess, cares, and maladies, the failure begins at +thirty-five. The time, then, to take nature, is when she is stationary, +so as to forestall the beginning of decay. He who, possessor as I am of +the secret of this elixir, knows how to seize the happy moment, will +live as I live; always young, or, at least, always young enough for what +he has to do in the world." + +"Oh, M. Cagliostro," cried the countess; "why, if you could choose your +own age, did you not stop at twenty instead of at forty?" + +"Because, madame," said Cagliostro, smiling, "it suits me better to be a +man of forty, still healthy and vigorous, than a raw youth of twenty." + +"Oh!" said the countess. + +"Doubtless, madame," continued Cagliostro, "at twenty one pleases women +of thirty; at forty, we govern women of twenty, and men of sixty." + +"I yield, sir," said the countess, "for you are a living proof of the +truth of your own words." + +"Then I," said Taverney, piteously, "am condemned; it is too late for +me." + +"M. de Richelieu has been more skilful than you," said La Perouse +naively, "and I have always heard that he had some secret." + +"It is a report that the women have spread," laughed Count Haga. + +"Is that a reason for disbelieving it, duke?" asked Madame Dubarry. + +The old duke colored, a rare thing for him; but replied, "Do you wish, +gentlemen, to have my receipt?" + +"Oh, by all means." + +"Well, then, it is simply to take care of yourself." + +"Oh, oh!" cried all. + +"But, M. Cagliostro," continued Madame Dubarry, "I must ask more about +the elixir." + +"Well, madame?" + +"You said you first used it at forty years of age----" + +"Yes, madame." + +"And that since that time, that is, since the siege of Troy----" + +"A little before, madame." + +"That you have always remained forty years old?" + +"You see me now." + +"But then, sir," said De Condorcet, "you argue, not only the +perpetuation of youth, but the preservation of life; for if since the +siege of Troy you have been always forty, you have never died." + +"True, marquis, I have never died." + +"But are you, then, invulnerable, like Achilles, or still more so, for +Achilles was killed by the arrow of Paris?" + +"No. I am not invulnerable, and there is my great regret," said +Cagliostro. + +"Then, sir, you may be killed." + +"Alas! yes." + +"How, then, have you escaped all accidents for three thousand five +hundred years?" + +"It is chance, marquis, but will you follow my reasoning?" + +"Yes, yes," cried all, with eagerness. + +Cagliostro continued: "What is the first requisite to life?" he asked, +spreading out his white and beautiful hands covered with rings, among +which Cleopatra's shone conspicuously. "Is it not health!" + +"Certainly." + +"And the way to preserve health is?" + +"Proper management," said Count Haga. + +"Right, count. And why should not my elixir be the best possible method +of treatment? And this treatment I have adopted, and with it have +preserved my youth, and with youth, health, and life." + +"But all things exhaust themselves; the finest constitution, as well as +the worst." + +"The body of Paris, like that of Vulcan," said the countess. "Perhaps, +you knew Paris, by the bye?" + +"Perfectly, madame; he was a fine young man, but really did not deserve +all that has been said of him. In the first place, he had red hair." + +"Red hair, horrible!" + +"Unluckily, madame, Helen was not of your opinion: but to return to our +subject. You say, M. de Taverney, that all things exhaust themselves; +but you also know, that everything recovers again, regenerates, or is +replaced, whichever you please to call it. The famous knife of St. +Hubert, which so often changed both blade and handle, is an example, for +through every change it still remained the knife of St. Hubert. The +wines which the monks of Heidelberg preserve so carefully in their +cellars, remain still the same wine, although each year they pour into +it a fresh supply; therefore, this wine always remains clear, bright, +and delicious: while the wine which Opimus and I hid in the earthen jars +was, when I tried it a hundred years after, only a thick dirty +substance, which might have been eaten, but certainly could not have +been drunk. Well, I follow the example of the monks of Heidelberg, and +preserve my body by introducing into it every year new elements, which +regenerate the old. Every morning a new and fresh atom replaces in my +blood, my flesh, and my bones, some particle which has perished. I stay +that ruin which most men allow insensibly to invade their whole being, +and I force into action all those powers which God has given to every +human being, but which most people allow to lie dormant. This is the +great study of my life, and as, in all things, he who does one thing +constantly does that thing better than others, I am becoming more +skilful than others in avoiding danger. Thus, you would not get me to +enter a tottering house; I have seen too many houses not to tell at a +glance the safe from the unsafe. You would not see me go out hunting +with a man who managed his gun badly. From Cephalus, who killed his +wife, down to the regent, who shot the prince in the eye, I have seen +too many unskilful people. You could not make me accept in battle the +post which many a man would take without thinking, because I should +calculate in a moment the chances of danger at each point. You will tell +me that one cannot foresee a stray bullet; but the man who has escaped a +thousand gun-shots will hardly fall a victim to one now. Ah, you look +incredulous, but am I not a living proof? I do not tell you that I am +immortal, only that I know better than others how to avoid danger; for +instance, I would not remain here now alone with M. de Launay, who is +thinking that, if he had me in the Bastile, he would put my immortality +to the test of starvation; neither would I remain with M. de Condorcet, +for he is thinking that he might just empty into my glass the contents +of that ring which he wears on his left hand, and which is full of +poison--not with any evil intent, but just as a scientific experiment, +to see if I should die." + +The two people named looked at each other, and colored. + +"Confess, M. de Launay, we are not in a court of justice; besides, +thoughts are not punished. Did you not think what I said? And you, M. de +Condorcet, would you not have liked to let me taste the poison in your +ring, in the name of your beloved mistress, science?" + +"Indeed," said M. de Launay, laughing, "I confess you are right; it was +folly, but that folly did pass through my mind just before you accused +me." + +"And I," said M. de Condorcet, "will not be less candid. I did think +that if you tasted the contents of my ring, I would not give much for +your life." + +A cry of admiration burst from the rest of the party; these avowals +confirming not the immortality, but the penetration, of Count +Cagliostro. + +"You see," said Cagliostro, quietly, "that I divined these dangers; +well, it is the same with other things. The experience of a long life +reveals to me at a glance much of the past and of the future of those +whom I meet. My capabilities in this way extend even to animals and +inanimate objects. If I get into a carriage, I can tell from the look of +the horses if they are likely to run away; and from that of the +coachman, if he will overturn me. If I go on board ship, I can see if +the captain is ignorant or obstinate, and consequently likely to +endanger me. I should then leave the coachman or captain, escape from +those horses or that ship. I do not deny chance, I only lessen it, and +instead of incurring a hundred chances, like the rest of the world, I +prevent ninety-nine of them, and endeavor to guard against the +hundredth. This is the good of having lived three thousand years." + +"Then," said La Perouse, laughing, amidst the wonder and enthusiasm +created by this speech of Cagliostro's, "you should come with me when I +embark to make the tour of the world; you would render me a signal +service." + +Cagliostro did not reply. + +"M. de Richelieu," continued La Perouse, "as the Count Cagliostro, which +is very intelligible, does not wish to quit such good company, you must +permit me to do so without him. Excuse me, Count Haga, and you, madame, +but it is seven o'clock, and I have promised his majesty to start at a +quarter past. But since Count Cagliostro will not be tempted to come +with me, and see my ships, perhaps he can tell me what will happen to me +between Versailles and Brest. From Brest to the Pole I ask nothing; that +is my own business." + +Cagliostro looked at La Perouse with such a melancholy air, so full both +of pity and kindness, that the others were struck by it. The sailor +himself, however, did not remark it. He took leave of the company, put +on his fur riding coat, into one of the pockets of which Madame Dubarry +pushed a bottle of delicious cordial, welcome to a traveler, but which +he would not have provided for himself, to recall to him, she said, his +absent friends during the long nights of a journey in such bitter cold. + +La Perouse, still full of gaiety, bowed respectfully to Count Haga, and +held out his hand to the old marshal. + +"Adieu, dear La Perouse," said the latter. + +"No, duke, au revoir," replied La Perouse, "one would think I was going +away forever; now I have but to circumnavigate the globe--five or six +years' absence; it is scarcely worth while to say 'adieu' for that." + +"Five or six years," said the marshal; "you might almost as well say +five or six centuries; days are years at my age, therefore I say, +adieu." + +"Bah! ask the sorcerer," returned La Perouse, still laughing; "he will +promise you twenty years' more life. Will you not, Count Cagliostro? Oh, +count, why did I not hear sooner of those precious drops of yours? +Whatever the price, I should have shipped a tun. Madame, another kiss of +that beautiful hand, I shall certainly not see such another till I +return; au revoir," and he left the room. + +Cagliostro still preserved the same mournful silence. They heard the +steps of the captain as he left the house, his gay voice in the +courtyard, and his farewells to the people assembled to see him depart. +Then the horses shook their heads, covered with bells, the door of the +carriage shut with some noise, and the wheels were heard rolling along +the street. + +La Perouse had started on that voyage from which he was destined never +to return. + +When they could no longer hear a sound, all looks were again turned to +Cagliostro; there seemed a kind of inspired light in his eyes. + +Count Haga first broke the silence, which had lasted for some minutes. +"Why did you not reply to his question?" he inquired of Cagliostro. + +Cagliostro started, as if the question had roused him from a reverie. +"Because," said he, "I must either have told a falsehood or a sad +truth." + +"How so?" + +"I must have said to him,--'M. de la Perouse, the duke is right in +saying to you adieu, and not au revoir.'" + +"Oh," said Richelieu, turning pale, "what do you mean?" + +"Reassure yourself, marshal, this sad prediction does not concern you." + +"What," cried Madame Dubarry, "this poor La Perouse, who has just kissed +my hand----" + +"Not only, madame, will never kiss it again, but will never again see +those he has just left," said Cagliostro, looking attentively at the +glass of water he was holding up. + +A cry of astonishment burst from all. The interest of the conversation +deepened every moment, and you might have thought, from the solemn and +anxious air with which all regarded Cagliostro, that it was some ancient +and infallible oracle they were consulting. + +"Pray then, count," said Madame Dubarry, "tell us what will befall poor +La Perouse." + +Cagliostro shook his head. + +"Oh, yes, let us hear!" cried all the rest. + +"Well, then, M. de la Perouse intends, as you know, to make the tour of +the globe, and continue the researches of poor Captain Cook, who was +killed in the Sandwich Islands." + +"Yes, yes, we know." + +"Everything should foretell a happy termination to this voyage; M. de la +Perouse is a good seaman, and his route has been most skilfully traced +by the king." + +"Yes," interrupted Count Haga, "the King of France is a clever +geographer; is he not, M. de Condorcet?" + +"More skilful than is needful for a king," replied the marquis; "kings +ought to know things only slightly, then they will let themselves be +guided by those who know them thoroughly." + +"Is this a lesson, marquis?" said Count Haga, smiling. + +"Oh, no. Only a simple reflection, a general truth." + +"Well, he is gone," said Madame Dubarry, anxious to bring the +conversation back to La Perouse. + +"Yes, he is gone," replied Cagliostro, "but don't believe, in spite of +his haste, that he will soon embark. I foresee much time lost at Brest." + +"That would be a pity," said De Condorcet; "this is the time to set out: +it is even now rather late--February or March would have been better." + +"Oh, do not grudge him these few months, M. de Condorcet, for, during +them, he will at least live and hope." + +"He has got good officers, I suppose?" said Richelieu. + +"Yes, he who commands the second ship is a distinguished officer. I see +him--- young, adventurous, brave, unhappily." + +"Why unhappily?" + +"A year after I look for him, and see him no more," said Cagliostro, +anxiously consulting his glass. "No one here is related to M. de +Langle?" + +"No." + +"No one knows him?" + +"No." + +"Well, death will commence with him." + +A murmur of affright escaped from all the guests. + +"But he, La Perouse?" cried several voices. + +"He sails, he lands, he reembarks; I see one, two years, of successful +navigation; we hear news of him, and then----" + +"Then?" + +"Years pass----" + +"But at last?" + +"The sea is vast, the heavens are clouded, here and there appear unknown +lands, and figures hideous as the monsters of the Grecian Archipelago. +They watch the ship, which is being carried in a fog amongst the +breakers, by a tempest less fearful than themselves. Oh! La Perouse, La +Perouse, if you could hear me, I would cry to you. You set out, like +Columbus, to discover a world; beware of unknown isles!" + +He ceased, and an icy shiver ran through the assembly. + +"But why did you not warn him?" asked Count Haga, who, in spite of +himself, had succumbed to the influence of this extraordinary man. + +"Yes," cried Madame Dubarry, "why not send after him and bring him back? +The life of a man like La Perouse is surely worth a courier, my dear +marshal." + +The marshal rose to ring the bell. + +Cagliostro extended his arm to stop him. "Alas!" said he, "All advice +would be useless. I can foretell destiny, but I cannot change it. M. de +la Perouse would laugh if he heard my words, as the son of Priam laughed +when Cassandra prophesied; and see, you begin to laugh yourself, Count +Haga, and laughing is contagious: your companions are catching it. Do +not restrain yourselves, gentlemen--I am accustomed to an incredulous +audience." + +"Oh, we believe," said Madame Dubarry and the Duke de Richelieu; "and I +believe," murmured Taverney; "and I also," said Count Haga politely. + +"Yes," replied Cagliostro, "you believe, because it concerns La +Perouse; but, if I spoke of yourself, you would not believe." + +"I confess that what would have made me believe, would have been, if you +had said to him, 'Beware of unknown isles;' then he would, at least, +have had the chance of avoiding them." + +"I assure you no, count; and, if he had believed me, it would only have +been more horrible, for the unfortunate man would have seen himself +approaching those isles destined to be fatal to him, without the power +to flee from them. Therefore he would have died, not one, but a hundred +deaths, for he would have gone through it all by anticipation. Hope, of +which I should have deprived him, is what best sustains a man under all +trials." + +"Yes," said De Condorcet; "the veil which hides from us our future is +the only real good which God has vouchsafed to man." + +"Nevertheless," said Count Haga, "did a man like you say to me, shun a +certain man or a certain thing, I would beware, and I would thank you +for the counsel." + +Cagliostro shook his head, with a faint smile. + +"I mean it, M. de Cagliostro," continued Count Haga; "warn me, and I +will thank you." + +"You wish me to tell you what I would not tell La Perouse?" + +"Yes, I wish it." + +Cagliostro opened his mouth as if to begin, and then stopped, and said, +"No, count, no!" + +"I beg you." + +Cagliostro still remained silent. + +"Take care," said the count, "you are making me incredulous." + +"Incredulity is better than misery." + +"M. de Cagliostro," said the count, gravely, "you forget one thing, +which is, that though there are men who had better remain ignorant of +their destiny, there are others who should know it, as it concerns not +themselves alone, but millions of others." + +"Then," said Cagliostro, "command me; if your majesty commands, I will +obey." + +"I command you to reveal to me my destiny, M. de Cagliostro," said the +king, with an air at once courteous and dignified. + +At this moment, as Count Haga had dropped his incognito in speaking to +Cagliostro, M. de Richelieu advanced towards him, and said, "Thanks, +sire, for the honor you have done my house; will your majesty assume the +place of honor?" + +"Let us remain as we are, marshal; I wish to hear what M. de Cagliostro +is about to say." + +"One does not speak the truth to kings, sire." + +"Bah! I am not in my kingdom; take your place again, duke. Proceed, M. +de Cagliostro, I beg." + +Cagliostro looked again through his glass, and one might have imagined +the particles agitated by this look, as they danced in, the light. +"Sire," said he, "tell me what you wish to know?" + +"Tell me by what death I shall die." + +"By a gun-shot, sire." + +The eyes of Gustavus grew bright. "Ah, in a battle!" said he; "the death +of a soldier! Thanks, M. de Cagliostro, a thousand times thanks; oh, I +foresee battles, and Gustavus Adolphus and Charles XII. have shown me +how a King of Sweden should die." + +Cagliostro drooped his head, without replying. + +"Oh!" cried Count Haga, "will not my wound then be given in battle?" + +"No, sire." + +"In a sedition?--yes, that is possible." + +"No, not in a sedition, sire." + +"But, where then?" + +"At a ball, sire." + +The king remained silent, and Cagliostro buried his head in his hands. + +Every one looked pale and frightened; then M. de Condorcet took the +glass of water and examined it, as if there he could solve the problem +of all that had been going on; but finding nothing to satisfy him, +"Well, I also," said he, "will beg our illustrious prophet to consult +for me his magic mirror: unfortunately, I am not a powerful lord; I +cannot command, and my obscure life concerns no millions of people." + +"Sir," said Count Haga, "you command in the name of science, and your +life belongs not only to a nation, but to all mankind." + +"Thanks," said De Condorcet; "but, perhaps, your opinion on this subject +is not shared by M. de Cagliostro." + +Cagliostro raised his head. "Yes, marquis," said he, in a manner which +began to be excited, "you are indeed a powerful lord in the kingdom of +intelligence; look me, then, in the face, and tell me, seriously, if you +also wish that I should prophesy to you." + +"Seriously, count, upon my honor." + +"Well, marquis," said Cagliostro, in a hoarse voice, "you will die of +that poison which you carry in your ring; you will die----" + +"Oh, but if I throw it away?" + +"Throw it away!" + +"You allow that that would be easy." + +"Throw it away!" + +"Oh, yes, marquis," cried Madame Dubarry; "throw away that horrid +poison! Throw it away, if it be only to falsify this prophet of evil, +who threatens us all with so many misfortunes. For if you throw it away +you cannot die by it, as M. de Cagliostro predicts; so there at least he +will have been wrong." + +"Madame la Comtesse is right," said Count Haga. + +"Bravo, countess!" said Richelieu. "Come, marquis, throw away that +poison, for now I know you carry it, I shall tremble every time we drink +together; the ring might open of itself, and----" + +"It is useless," said Cagliostro quietly; "M. de Condorcet will not +throw it away." + +"No," returned De Condorcet, "I shall not throw it away; not that I wish +to aid my destiny, but because this is a unique poison, prepared by +Cabanis, and which chance has completely hardened, and that chance might +never occur again; therefore I will not throw it away. Triumph if you +will, M. de Cagliostro." + +"Destiny," replied he, "ever finds some way to work out its own ends." + +"Then I shall die by poison," said the marquis; "well, so be it. It is +an admirable death, I think; a little poison on the tip of the tongue, +and I am gone. It is scarcely dying: it is merely ceasing to live." + +"It is not necessary for you to suffer, sir," said Cagliostro. + +"Then, sir," said M. de Favras, "we have a shipwreck, a gun-shot, and a +poisoning which makes my mouth water. Will you not do me the favor also +to predict some little pleasure of the same kind for me?" + +"Oh, marquis!" replied Cagliostro, beginning to grow warm under this +irony, "do not envy these gentlemen, you will have still better." + +"Better!" said M. de Favras, laughing; "that is pledging yourself to a +great deal. It is difficult to beat the sea, fire, and poison!" + +"There remains the cord, marquis," said Cagliostro, bowing. + +"The cord! what do you mean?" + +"I mean that you will be hanged," replied Cagliostro, seeming no more +the master of his prophetic rage. + +"Hanged! the devil!" cried Richelieu. + +"Monsieur forgets that I am a nobleman," said M. de Favras, coldly; "or +if he means to speak of a suicide, I warn him that I shall respect +myself sufficiently, even in my last moments, not to use a cord while I +have a sword." + +"I do not speak of a suicide, sir." + +"Then you speak of a punishment?" + +"Yes." + +"You are a foreigner, sir, and therefore I pardon you." + +"What?" + +"Your ignorance, sir. In France we decapitate noblemen." + +"You may arrange this, if you can, with the executioner," replied +Cagliostro. + +M. de Favras said no more. There was a general silence and shrinking for +a few minutes. + +"Do you know that I tremble at last," said M. de Launay; "my +predecessors have come off so badly, that I fear for myself if I now +take my turn." + +"Then you are more reasonable than they; you are right. Do not seek to +know the future; good or bad, let it rest--it is in the hands of God." + +"Oh! M. de Launay," said Madame Dubarry, "I hope you will not be less +courageous than the others have been." + +"I hope so, too, madame," said the governor. Then, turning to +Cagliostro, "Sir," he said, "favor me, in my turn, with my horoscope, if +you please." + +"It is easy," replied Cagliostro; "a blow on the head with a hatchet, +and all will be over." + +A look of dismay was once more general. Richelieu and Taverney begged +Cagliostro to say no more, but female curiosity carried the day. + +"To hear you talk, count," said Madame Dubarry, "one would think the +whole universe must die a violent death. Here we were, eight of us, and +five are already condemned by you." + +"Oh, you understand that it is all prearranged to frighten us, and we +shall only laugh at it," said M. de Favras, trying to do so. + +"Certainly we will laugh," said Count Haga, "be it true or false." + +"Oh, I will laugh too, then," said Madame Dubarry. "I will not dishonor +the assembly by my cowardice; but, alas! I am only a woman, I cannot +rank among you and be worthy of a tragical end; a woman dies in her bed. +My death, a sorrowful old woman abandoned by every one, will be the +worst of all. Will it not, M. de Cagliostro?" + +She stopped, and seemed to wait for the prophet to reassure her. +Cagliostro did not speak; so, her curiosity obtaining the mastery over +her fears, she went on. "Well, M. de Cagliostro, will you not answer +me?" + +"What do you wish me to say, madame?" + +She hesitated--then, rallying her courage, "Yes," she cried, "I will run +the risk. Tell me the fate of Jeanne de Vaubernier, Countess Dubarry." + +"On the scaffold, madame," replied the prophet of evil. + +"A jest, sir, is it not?" said she, looking at him with a supplicating +air. + +Cagliostro seemed not to see it. "Why do you think I jest?" said he. + +"Oh, because to die on the scaffold one must have committed some +crime--stolen, or committed murder, or done something dreadful; and it +is not likely I shall do that. It was a jest, was it not?" + +"Oh, mon Dieu, yes," said Cagliostro; "all I have said is but a jest." + +The countess laughed, but scarcely in a natural manner. "Come, M. de +Favras," said she, "let us order our funerals." + +"Oh, that will be needless for you, madame," said Cagliostro. + +"Why so, sir?" + +"Because you will go to the scaffold in a car." + +"Oh, how horrible! This dreadful man, marshal! for heaven's sake choose +more cheerful guests next time, or I will never visit you again." + +"Excuse me, madame," said Cagliostro, "but you, like all the rest, would +have me speak." + +"At least I hope you will grant me time to choose my confessor." + +"It will be superfluous, countess." + +"Why?" + +"The last person who will mount the scaffold in France with a confessor +will be the King of France." And Cagliostro pronounced these words in so +thrilling a voice that every one was struck with horror. + +All were silent. + +Cagliostro raised to his lips the glass of water in which he had read +these fearful prophecies, but scarcely had he touched it, when he set it +down with a movement of disgust. He turned his eyes to M. de Taverney. + +"Oh," cried he, in terror, "do not tell me anything; I do not wish to +know!" + +"Well, then, I will ask instead of him," said Richelieu. + +"You, marshal, be happy; you are the only one of us all who will die in +his bed." + +"Coffee, gentlemen, coffee," cried the marshal, enchanted with the +prediction. Every one rose. + +But before passing into the drawing-room, Count Haga, approaching +Cagliostro, said,-- + +"Tell me what to beware of." + +"Of a muff, sir," replied Cagliostro. + +"And I?" said Condorcet. + +"Of an omelet." + +"Good; I renounce eggs," and he left the room. + +"And I?" said M. de Favras; "what must I fear?" + +"A letter." + +"And I?" said De Launay. + +"The taking of the Bastile." + +"Oh, you quite reassure me." And he went away laughing. + +"Now for me, sir," said the countess, trembling. + +"You, beautiful countess, shun the Place Louis XV." + +"Alas," said the countess, "one day already I lost myself there; that +day I suffered much." + +She left the room, and Cagliostro was about to follow her when Richelieu +stopped him. + +"One moment," said he; "there remains only Taverney and I, my dear +sorcerer." + +"M. de Taverney begged me to say nothing, and you, marshal, have asked +me nothing." + +"Oh, I do not wish to hear," again cried Taverney. + +"But come, to prove your power, tell us something that only Taverney and +I know," said Richelieu. + +"What?" asked Cagliostro, smiling. + +"Tell us what makes Taverney come to Versailles, instead of living +quietly in his beautiful house at Maison-Rouge, which the king bought +for him three years ago." + +"Nothing more simple, marshal," said Cagliostro. "Ten years ago, M. de +Taverney wished to give his daughter, Mademoiselle Andree, to the King +Louis XV., but he did not succeed." + +"Oh!" growled Taverney. + +"Now, monsieur wishes to give his son Philippe de Taverney, to the Queen +Marie Antoinette; ask him if I speak the truth." + +"On my word," said Taverney, trembling, "this man is a sorcerer; devil +take me if he is not!" + +"Do not speak so cavalierly of the devil, my old comrade," said the +marshal. + +"It is frightful," murmured Taverney, and he turned to implore +Cagliostro to be discreet, but he was gone. + +"Come, Taverney, to the drawing-room," said the marshal; "or they will +drink their coffee without us." + +But when they arrived there, the room was empty; no one had courage to +face again the author of these terrible predictions. + +The wax lights burned in the candelabra, the fire burned on the hearth, +but all for nothing. + +"Ma foi, old friend, it seems we must take our coffee tete-a-tete. Why, +where the devil has he gone?" Richelieu looked all around him, but +Taverney had vanished like the rest. "Never mind," said the marshal, +chuckling as Voltaire might have done, and rubbing his withered though +still white hands; "I shall be the only one to die in my bed. Well, +Count Cagliostro, at least I believe. In my bed! that was it; I shall +die in my bed, and I trust not for a long time. Hola! my +valet-de-chambre and my drops." + +The valet entered with the bottle, and the marshal went with him into +the bedroom. + + +END OF THE PROLOGUE. + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +TWO UNKNOWN LADIES. + + +The winter of 1784, that monster which devoured half France, we could +not see, although he growled at the doors, while at the house of M. de +Richelieu, shut in as we were in that warm and comfortable dining-room. + +A little frost on the windows seems but the luxury of nature added to +that of man. Winter has its diamonds, its powder, and its silvery +embroidery for the rich man wrapped in his furs, and packed in his +carriage, or snug among the wadding and velvet of a well-warmed room. +Hoar-frost is a beauty, ice a change of decoration by the greatest of +artists, which the rich admire through their windows. He who is warm can +admire the withered trees, and find a somber charm in the sight of the +snow-covered plain. He who, after a day without suffering, when millions +of his fellow-creatures are enduring dreadful privations, throws himself +on his bed of down, between his fine and well-aired sheets, may find out +that all is for the best in this best of all possible worlds. + +But he who is hungry sees none of these beauties of nature; he who is +cold hates the sky without a sun, and consequently without a smile for +such unfortunates. Now, at the time at which we write, that is, about +the middle of the month of April, three hundred thousand miserable +beings, dying from cold and hunger, groaned in Paris alone--in that +Paris where, in spite of the boast that scarcely another city contained +so many rich people, nothing had been prepared to prevent the poor from +perishing of cold and wretchedness. + +For the last four months, the same leaden sky had driven the poor from +the villages into the town, as it sent the wolves from the woods into +the villages. + +No more bread. No more wood. + +No more bread for those who felt this cold--no more wood to cook it. All +the provisions which had been collected, Paris had devoured in a month. +The Provost, short-sighted and incapable, did not know how to procure +for Paris, which was under his care, the wood which might have been +collected in the neighborhood. When it froze, he said the frost +prevented the horses from bringing it; if it thawed, he pleaded want of +horses and conveyances. Louis XVI., ever good and humane, always ready +to attend to the physical wants of his people, although he overlooked +their social ones, began by contributing a sum of 200,000 francs for +horses and carts, and insisting on their immediate use. Still the demand +continued greater than the supply. At first no one was allowed to carry +away from the public timber-yard more than a cart-load of wood; then +they were limited to half this quantity. Soon the long strings of people +might be seen waiting outside the doors, as they were afterwards seen at +the bakers' shops. The king gave away the whole of his private income in +charity. He procured 3,000,000 francs by a grant and applied it to the +relief of the sufferers, declaring that every other need must give way +before that of cold and famine. The queen, on her part, gave 500 louis +from her purse. The convents, the hospitals, and the public buildings +were thrown open as places of asylum for the poor, who came in crowds +for the sake of the fires that were kept there. They kept hoping for a +thaw, but heaven seemed inflexible. Every evening the same +copper-colored sky disappointed their hopes; and the stars shone bright +and clear as funeral torches through the long, cold nights, which +hardened again and again the snow which fell during the day. All day +long, thousands of workmen, with spades and shovels, cleared away the +snow from before the houses; so that on each side of the streets, +already too narrow for the traffic, rose a high, thick wall, blocking up +the way. Soon these masses of snow and ice became so large that the +shops were obscured by them, and they were obliged to allow it to remain +where it fell. Paris could do no more. She gave in, and allowed the +winter to do its worst. December, January, February, and March passed +thus, although now and then a few days' thaw changed the streets, whose +sewers were blocked up, into running streams. Horses were drowned, and +carriages destroyed, in the streets, some of which could only be +traversed in boats. Paris, faithful to its character, sang through this +destruction by the thaw as it had done through that by famine. +Processions were made to the markets to see the fisherwomen serving +their customers with immense leathern boots on, inside which their +trousers were pushed, and with their petticoats tucked round their +waists, all laughing, gesticulating, and splashing each other as they +stood in the water. These thaws, however, were but transitory; the frost +returned, harder and more obstinate than ever, and recourse was had to +sledges, pushed along by skaters, or drawn by roughshod horses along the +causeways, which were like polished mirrors. The Seine, frozen many feet +deep, was become the rendezvous for all idlers, who assembled there to +skate or slide, until, warmed by exercise, they ran to the nearest fire, +lest the perspiration should freeze upon them. All trembled for the time +when, the water communications being stopped, and the roads impassable, +provisions could no longer be sent in, and began to fear that Paris +would perish from want. The king, in this extremity, called a council. +They decided to implore all bishops, abbes, and monks to leave Paris and +retire to their dioceses or convents; and all those magistrates and +officials who, preferring the opera to their duties, had crowded to +Paris, to return to their homes; for all these people used large +quantities of wood in their hotels, and consumed no small amount of +food. There were still the country gentlemen, who were also to be +entreated to leave. But M. Lenoir, lieutenant of police, observed to the +king that, as none of these people were criminals, and could not +therefore be compelled to leave Paris in a day, they would probably be +so long thinking about it, that the thaw would come before their +departure, which would then be more hurtful than useful. All this care +and pity of the king and queen, however, excited the ingenious +gratitude of the people, who raised monuments to them, as ephemeral as +the feelings which prompted them. Obelisks and pillars of snow and ice, +engraved with their names, were to be seen all over Paris. At the end of +March the thaw began, but by fits and starts, constant returns of frost +prolonging the miseries of the people. Indeed, in the beginning of April +it appeared to set in harder than ever, and the half-thawed streets, +frozen again, became so slippery and dangerous, that nothing was seen +but broken limbs and accidents of all kinds. The snow prevented the +carriages from being heard, and the police had enough to do, from the +reckless driving of the aristocracy, to preserve from the wheels those +who were spared by cold and hunger. + +It was about a week after the dinner given by M. de Richelieu that four +elegant sledges entered Paris, gliding over the frozen snow which +covered the Cours la Reine and the extremity of the boulevards. From +thence they found it more difficult to proceed, for the sun and the +traffic had begun to change the snow and ice into a wet mass of dirt. + +In the foremost sledge were two men in brown riding coats with double +capes. They were drawn by a black horse, and turned from time to time, +as if to watch the sledge that followed them, and which contained two +ladies so enveloped in furs that it was impossible to see their faces. +It might even have been difficult to distinguish their sex, had it not +been for the height of their coiffure, crowning which was a small hat +with a plume of feathers. From the colossal edifice of this coiffure, +all mingled with ribbons and jewels, escaped occasionally a cloud of +white powder, as when a gust of wind shakes the snow from the trees. + +These two ladies, seated side by side, were conversing so earnestly as +scarcely to see the numerous spectators who watched their progress along +the boulevards. One of them taller and more majestic than the other, and +holding up before her face a finely-embroidered cambric handkerchief, +carried her head erect and stately, in spite of the wind which swept +across their sledge. + +It had just struck five by the clock of the church St. Croix d'Antin and +night was beginning to descend upon Paris, and with the night the bitter +cold. They had just reached the Porte St. Denis, when the lady of whom +we have spoken made a sign to the men in front, who thereupon quickened +the pace of their horse, and soon disappeared among the evening mists, +which were fast thickening around the colossal structure of the Bastile. + +This signal she then repeated to the other two sledges, which also +vanished along the Rue St. Denis. Meanwhile, the one in which she sat, +having arrived at the Boulevard de Menilmontant, stopped. + +In this place few people were to be seen; night had dispersed them. +Besides, in this out-of-the-way quarter, not many citizens would trust +themselves without torches and an escort, since winter had sharpened the +wants of three or four thousand beggars who were easily changed into +robbers. + +The lady touched with her finger the shoulder of the coachman who was +driving her, and said, "Weber, how long will it take you to bring the +cabriolet you know where?" + +"Madame wishes me to bring the cabriolet?" asked the coachman, with a +strong German accent. + +"Yes, I shall return by the streets; and as they are still more muddy +than the boulevard, we should not get on in the sledge; besides, I begin +to feel the cold. Do not you, petite?" said she, turning to the other +lady. + +"Yes, madame." + +"Then, Weber, we will have the cabriolet." + +"Very well, madame." + +"What is the time, petite?" + +The young lady looked at her watch, which, however, she could hardly +see, as it was growing dark, and said, "A quarter to six, madame." + +"Then at a quarter to seven, Weber." + +Saying these words, the lady leaped lightly from the sledge, followed +by her friend, and walked away quickly; while the coachman murmured, +with a kind of respectful despair, sufficiently loud for his mistress to +hear, "Oh, mein Gott! what imprudence." + +The two ladies laughed, drew their cloaks closer round them, and went +tramping along through the snow, with their little feet. + +"You have good eyes, Andree," said the lady who seemed the elder of the +two, although she could not have been more than thirty or thirty-two; +"try to read the name at the corner of that street." + +"Rue du Pont-aux-Choux, madame." + +"Rue du Pont-aux-Choux! ah, mon Dieu, we must have come wrong. They told +me the second street on the right;--but what a smell of hot bread!" + +"That is not astonishing," said her companion, "for here is a baker's +shop." + +"Well, let us ask there for the Rue St. Claude," she said, moving to the +door. + +"Oh! do not you go in, madame; allow me," said Andree. + +"The Rue St. Claude, my pretty ladies?" said a cheerful voice. "Are you +asking for the Rue St. Claude?" + +The two ladies turned towards the voice, and saw, leaning against the +door of the shop, a man who, in spite of the cold, had his chest and his +legs quite bare. + +"Oh! a naked man!" cried the young lady, half hiding behind her +companion; "are we among savages?" + +"Was not that what you asked for?" said the journeyman baker, for such +he was, who did not understand her movement in the least, and, +accustomed to his own costume, never dreamed of its effect upon them. + +"Yes, my friend, the Rue St. Claude," said the elder lady, hardly able +to keep from laughing. + +"Oh, it is not difficult to find; besides, I will conduct you there +myself;" and, suiting the action to the words, he began to move his long +bony legs, which terminated in immense wooden shoes. + +"Oh, no!" cried the elder lady, who did not fancy such a guide; "pray +do not disturb yourself. Tell us the way, and we shall easily find it." + +"First street to the right," said he, drawing back again. + +"Thanks," said the ladies, who ran on as fast as they could, that he +might not hear the laughter which they could no longer restrain. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +AN INTERIOR. + + +If we do not calculate too much on the memory of our readers, they +certainly know the Rue St. Claude, which joins at one end the boulevard, +and at the other the Rue St. Louis; this was an important street in the +first part of our story, when it was inhabited by Joseph Balsamo, his +sibyl, Lorenza, and his master, Althotas. It was still a respectable +street, though badly lighted, and by no means clean, but little known or +frequented. + +There was, however, at the corner of the boulevard a large house, with +an aristocratic air; but this house, which might, from the number of its +windows, have illuminated the whole street, had it been lighted up, was +the darkest and most somber-looking of any. The door was never seen to +open; and the windows were thick with dust, which seemed never +disturbed. Sometimes an idler, attracted by curiosity, approached the +gates and peeped through; all he could see, however, were masses of +weeds growing between the stones of the courtyard, and green moss +spreading itself over everything. Occasionally an enormous rat, sole +inmate of those deserted domains, ran across the yard, on his way to his +usual habitation in the cellars, which seemed, however, to be an excess +of modesty, when he had the choice of so many fine sitting-rooms, where +he need never fear the intrusion of a cat. + +At times, one or two of the neighbors, passing the house, might stop to +take a survey, and one would say to the other: + +"Well, what do you see?" + +"Why," he would reply, "I see the rat." + +"Oh! let me look at him. How fat he has grown!" + +"That is not to be wondered at; he is never disturbed; and there must be +some good pickings in the house. M. de Balsamo disappeared so suddenly, +that he must have left something behind." + +"But you forget that the house was half burned down." + +And they would pursue their way. + +Opposite this ruin was a high narrow house inclosed within a garden +wall. From the upper windows, a light was to be seen; the rest was +shrouded in darkness. Either all the inhabitants were already asleep, or +they were very economical of wood and candles, which certainly were +frightfully dear this winter. It is, however, with the fifth story only +that we have any business. + +We must, in the first place, take a survey of the house, and, ascending +the staircase, open the first door. This room is empty and dark, +however, but it opens into another of which the furniture deserves our +attention. + +The doors were gaudily painted, and it contained easy chairs covered in +white, with yellow velvet trimming, and a sofa to match; the cushions of +which, however, were so full of the wrinkles of old age as scarcely to +be cushions any longer. Two portraits hanging on the walls next +attracted attention. A candle and a lamp--one placed on a stand, about +three feet high, and the other on the chimney-piece--threw a constant +light on them. + +The first was a well-known portrait of Henry III., King of France and +Poland; a cap on his head, surmounting his long pale face and heavy +eyes; a pointed beard, and a ruff round his neck. + +Under it was the inscription, traced in black letters, on a badly-gilded +frame, "Henri de Valois." + +The other portrait, of which the gilding was newer, and the painting +more fresh and recent, represented a young lady with black eyes, a +straight nose, and rather compressed lips, who appeared crushed under a +tower of hair and ribbons, to which the cap of Henry III. was in the +proportion of a mole-hill to a pyramid. + +Under this portrait was inscribed, "Jeanne de Valois." + +Glance at the fireless hearth, at the faded curtains, and then turn +towards a little oak table in the corner; for there, leaning on her +elbow, and writing the addresses of some letters, sits the original of +this portrait. + +A few steps off, in an attitude half curious, half respectful, stands a +little old woman, apparently about sixty. + +"Jeanne de Valois," says the inscription; but if this lady be indeed a +Valois, one wonders however the portrait of Henry III., the sybarite +king, the great voluptuary, could support the sight of so much poverty +in a person not only of his race, but bearing his name. + +In her person, however, this lady of the fifth story did no discredit to +her portrait. She had white and delicate hands, which from time to time +she rubbed together, as if to endeavor to put some warmth into them; her +foot also, which was encased in a rather coquettish velvet slipper, was +small and pretty. + +The wind whistled through all the old doors, and penetrated the crevices +of the shaking windows; and the old servant kept glancing sadly towards +the empty grate. Her lady continued her occupation, talking aloud as she +did so. + +"Madame de Misery," she murmured; "first lady of the bedchamber to her +majesty--I cannot expect more than six louis from her, for she has +already given to me once." And she sighed. "Madame Patrick, lady's-maid +to her majesty, two louis; M. d'Ormesson, an audience; M. de Calonne, +some good advice, M. de Rohan, a visit; at least, we will try to induce +him," said she, smiling at the thought. "Well, then, I think I may hope +for eight louis within a week." Then, looking up, "Dame Clotilde," she +said, "snuff this candle." + +The old woman did as she was bid, and then resumed her place. This kind +of inquisition seemed to annoy the young lady, for she said, "Pray go +and look if you cannot find the end of a wax candle for me; this tallow +is odious." + +"There is none," replied the old woman. + +"But just look." + +"Where?" + +"In the ante-chamber." + +"It is so cold there." + +"There is some one ringing," said the young lady. + +"Madame is mistaken," replied the obstinate old woman. + +"I thought I heard it, Dame Clotilde;" then, abandoning the attempt, she +turned again to her calculations. "Eight louis! Three I owe for the +rent, and five I have promised to M. de la Motte, to make him support +his stay at Bar-sur-Aube. Pauvre diable, our marriage has not enriched +him as yet--but patience;" and she smiled again, and looked at herself +in the mirror that hung between the two portraits. "Well, then," she +continued, "I still want one louis for going from Versailles to Paris +and back again; living for a week, one louis; dress, and gifts to the +porters of the houses where I go, four louis; but," said she, starting +up, "some one is ringing!" + +"No, madame," replied the old woman. "It is below, on the next floor." + +"But I tell you it is not," said she angrily, as the bell rang yet +louder. + +Even the old woman could deny it no longer; so she hobbled off to open +the door, while her mistress rapidly cleared away all the papers, and +seated herself on the sofa, assuming the air of a person humble and +resigned, although suffering. + +It was, however, only her body that reposed; for her eyes, restless and +unquiet, sought incessantly, first her mirror and then the door. + +At last it opened, and she heard a young and sweet voice saying, "Is it +here that Madame la Comtesse de la Motte lives?" + +"Madame la Comtesse de la Motte Valois," replied Clotilde. + +"It is the same person, my good woman; is she at home?" + +"Yes, madame; she is too ill to go out." + +During this colloquy, the pretended invalid saw reflected in the glass +the figure of a lady talking to Clotilde, unquestionably belonging to +the higher ranks. She then saw her turn round, and say to some one +behind, "We can go in--it is here." + +And the two ladies we have before seen asking the way prepared to enter +the room. + +"Whom shall I announce to the countess?" said Clotilde. + +"Announce a Sister of Charity," said the elder lady. + +"From Paris?" + +"No; from Versailles." + +Clotilde entered the room, and the strangers followed her. + +Jeanne de Valois seemed to rise with difficulty from her seat to receive +her visitors. + +Clotilde placed chairs for them, and then unwillingly withdrew. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +JEANNE DE LA MOTTE VALOIS. + + +The first thought of Jeanne de la Motte was to examine the faces of her +visitors, so as to gather what she could of their characters. The elder +lady, who might have been, as we have said, about thirty-two years of +age, was remarkably beautiful, although, at first sight, a great air of +hauteur detracted slightly from the charm of her expression; her +carriage was so proud, and her whole appearance so distingue that Jeanne +could not doubt her nobility, even at a cursory glance. + +She, however, seemed purposely to place herself as far as possible from +the light, so as to be little seen. + +Her companion appeared four or five years younger, and was not less +beautiful. Her complexion was charming; her hair, drawn back from her +temples, showed to advantage the perfect oval of her face; two large +blue eyes, calm and serene; a well-formed mouth, indicating great +frankness of disposition; a nose that rivaled the Venus de Medicis; such +was the other face which presented itself to the gaze of Jeanne de +Valois. + +She inquired gently to what happy circumstance she owed the honor of +their visit. + +The elder lady signed to the younger, who thereupon said, "Madame, for I +believe you are married----" + +"I have the honor to be the wife of M. le Comte de la Motte, an +excellent gentleman." + +"Well, Madame la Comtesse, we are at the head of a charitable +institution, and have heard concerning your condition things that +interest us, and we consequently wished to have more precise details on +the subject." + +"Mesdames," replied Jeanne, "you see there the portrait of Henry III., +that is to say, of the brother of my grandfather, for I am truly of the +race of Valois, as you have doubtless been told." And she waited for the +next question, looking at her visitors with a sort of proud humility. + +"Madame," said the grave and sweet voice of the elder lady, "is it true, +as we have also heard, that your mother was housekeeper at a place +called Fontelle, near Bar-sur-Seine?" + +Jeanne colored at this question, but replied, "It is true, madame; and," +she went on, "as Marie Jossel, my mother, was possessed of rare beauty, +my father fell in love with her, and married her, for it is by my father +that I am nobly descended; he was a St. Remy de Valois, direct +descendant of the Valois who were on the throne." + +"But how have you been reduced to this degree of poverty, madame?" + +"Alas! that is easily told. You are not ignorant that after the +accession of Henry IV., by which the crown passed from the house of +Valois to that of Bourbon, there still remained many branches of the +fallen family, obscure, doubtless, but incontestably springing from the +same root as the four brothers who all perished so miserably." + +The two ladies made a sign of assent. + +"Then," continued Jeanne, "these remnants of the Valois, fearing, in +spite of their obscurity, to be obnoxious to the reigning family, +changed their name of Valois into that of St. Remy, which they took from +some property, and they may be traced under this name down to my father, +who, seeing the monarchy so firmly established, and the old branch +forgotten, thought he need no longer deprive himself of his illustrious +name, and again called himself Valois, which name he bore in poverty and +obscurity in a distant province, while no one at the court of France +even knew of the existence of this descendant of their ancient kings." + +Jeanne stopped at these words, which she had spoken with a simplicity +and mildness which created a favorable impression. + +"You have, doubtless, your proofs already arranged, madame," said the +elder lady, with kindness. + +"Oh, madame," she replied, with a bitter smile, "proofs are not +wanting--my father arranged them, and left them to me as his sole +legacy; but of what use are proofs of a truth which no one will +recognize?" + +"Your father is then dead?" asked the younger lady. + +"Alas! yes." + +"Did he die in the provinces?" + +"No, madame." + +"At Paris, then?" + +"Yes." + +"In this room?" + +"No, madame; my father, Baron de Valois, great-nephew of the King Henry +III., died of misery and hunger; and not even in this poor retreat, not +in his own bed, poor as that was. No; my father died side by side with +the suffering wretches in the Hotel Dieu!" + +The ladies uttered an exclamation of surprise and distress. + +"From what you tell me, madame, you have experienced, it is evident, +great misfortunes; above all, the death of your father." + +"Oh, if you heard all the story of my life, madame, you would see that +my father's death does not rank among its greatest misfortunes." + +"How, madame! You regard as a minor evil the death of your father?" said +the elder lady, with a frown. + +"Yes, madame; and in so doing I speak only as a pious daughter, for my +father was thereby delivered from all the ills which he experienced in +this life, and which continue to assail his family. I experience, in the +midst of the grief which his death causes me, a certain joy in knowing +that the descendant of kings is no longer obliged to beg his bread." + +"To beg his bread?" + +"Yes, madame; I say it without shame, for in all our misfortunes there +was no blame to my father or myself." + +"But you do not speak of your mother?" + +"Well, with the same frankness with which I told you just now that I +blessed God for taking my father, I complain that He left me my mother." + +The two ladies looked at each other, almost shuddering at these strange +words. + +"Would it be indiscreet, madame, to ask you for a more detailed account +of your misfortunes?" + +"The indiscretion, madame, would be in me, if I fatigued you with such a +long catalogue of woes." + +"Speak, madame," said the elder lady, so commandingly, that her +companion looked at her, as if to warn her to be more guarded. Indeed, +Madame de la Motte had been struck with this imperious accent, and +stared at her with some astonishment. + +"I listen, madame," she then said, in a more gentle tone; "if you will +be good enough to inform us what we ask." + +Her companion saw her shiver as she spoke, and fearing she felt cold, +pushed towards her a rug, on which to place her feet, and which she had +discovered under one of the chairs. + +"Keep it yourself, my sister," said she, pushing it back again. "You are +more delicate than I." + +"Indeed, madame," said Jeanne, "it grieves me much to see you suffer +from the cold; but wood is now so dear, and my stock was exhausted a +week ago." + +"You said, madame, that you were unhappy in having a mother," said the +elder lady, returning to the subject. + +"Yes, madame. Doubtless, such a blasphemy shocks you much, does it not?" +said Jeanne; "but hear my explanation. I have already had the honor to +tell you that my father made a mesalliance, and married his housekeeper. +Marie Jossel, my mother, instead of feeling gratified and proud of the +honor he had done her, began by ruining my father, which certainly was +not difficult to a person determined to consult only her own pleasures. +And having reduced him to sell all his remaining property, she induced +him to go to Paris to claim the rights to which his name entitled him. +My father was easily persuaded; perhaps he hoped in the justice of the +king. He came then, having first turned all he possessed into money. He +had, besides me, another daughter, and a son. + +"His son, unhappy as myself, vegetates in the lowest ranks of the army; +the daughter, my poor sister, was abandoned, on the evening of our +departure, before the house of a neighboring farmer. + +"The journey exhausted our little resources--my father wore himself out +in fruitless appeals--we scarcely ever saw him--our house was +wretched--and my mother, to whom a victim was necessary, vented her +discontent and ill-humor upon me: she even reproached me with what I +ate, and for the slightest fault I was unmercifully beaten. The +neighbors, thinking to serve me, told my father of the treatment I +experienced. He endeavored to protect me, but his interference only +served to embitter her still more against me. + +"At last my father fell ill, and was confined first to the house, and +then to his bed. My mother banished me from his room on the pretext that +I disturbed him. She made me now learn a sentence, which, child as I +was, I shrank from saying; but she would drive me out into the street +with blows, ordering me to repeat it to each passer-by, if I did not +wish to be beaten to death." + +"And what was this sentence?" asked the elder lady. + +"It was this, madame: 'Have pity on a little orphan, who descends in a +direct line from Henri de Valois.'" + +"What a shame!" cried the ladies. + +"But what effect did this produce on the people?" inquired Andree. + +"Some listened and pitied me, others were angry and menaced me; some +kind people stopped and warned me that I ran a great risk from repeating +such words; but I knew no other danger than that of disobeying my +mother. The result was, however, as she hoped: I generally brought home +a little money, which kept us for a time from starvation or the +hospital; but this life became so odious to me, that at last, one day, +instead of repeating my accustomed phrase, I sat on a doorstep all the +time, and returned in the evening empty-handed. My mother beat me so +that the next day I fell ill; then my poor father, deprived of all +resources, was obliged to go to the Hotel Dieu, where he died." + +"Oh! what a horrible history," cried the ladies. + +"What became of you after your father's death?" asked the elder lady. + +"God took pity upon me a month after my father's death, my mother ran +away with a soldier, abandoning my brother and me. We felt ourselves +relieved by her departure, and lived on public charity, although we +never begged for more than enough to eat. One day, I saw a carriage +going slowly along the Faubourg Saint Marcel. There were four footmen +behind, and a beautiful lady inside; I held out my hand to her for +charity. She questioned me, and my reply and my name seemed to strike +her with surprise. She asked for my address, and the next day made +inquiries, and finding that I had told her the truth, she took charge +of my brother and myself; she placed my brother in the army, and me with +a dressmaker." + +"Was not this lady Madame de Boulainvilliers?" + +"It was." + +"She is dead, I believe?" + +"Yes; and her death deprived me of my only protector." + +"Her husband still lives, and is rich." + +"Ah, madame, it is to him that I owe my later misfortunes. I had grown +tall, and, as he thought, pretty, and he wished to put a price upon his +benefits which I refused to pay. Meanwhile, Madame de Boulainvilliers +died, having first married me to a brave and loyal soldier, M. de la +Motte, but, separated from him, I seemed more abandoned after her death +than I had been after that of my father. This is my history, madame, +which I have shortened as much as possible, in order not to weary you." + +"Where, then, is your husband?" asked the elder lady. + +"He is in garrison at Bar-sur-Aube; he serves in the gendarmerie, and is +waiting, like myself, in hopes of better times." + +"But you have laid your case before the court?" + +"Undoubtedly." + +"The name of Valois must have awakened some sympathy." + +"I know not, madame, what sentiments it may have awakened, for I have +received no answer to any of my petitions." + +"You have seen neither the ministers, the king, nor the queen?" + +"No one. Everywhere I have failed." + +"You cannot now beg, however." + +"No, madame; I have lost the habit; but I can die of hunger, like my +poor father." + +"You have no child?" + +"No, madame; and my husband, by getting killed in the service of his +king, will find for himself a glorious end to all our miseries." + +"Can you, madame--I beg pardon if I seem intrusive--but can you bring +forward the proofs of your genealogy?" + +Jeanne rose, opened a drawer, and drew out some papers, which she +presented to the lady, who rose to come nearer the light, that she might +examine them; but seeing that Jeanne eagerly seized this opportunity to +observe her more clearly than she had yet been able to do, she turned +away as if the light hurt her eyes, turning her back to Madame de la +Motte. + +"But," said she, at last, "these are only copies." + +"Oh! madame, I have the originals safe, and am ready to produce them." + +"If any important occasion should present itself, I suppose?" said the +lady, smiling. + +"It is, doubtless, madame, an important occasion which procures me the +honor of your visit, but these papers are so precious----" + +"That you cannot show them to the first comer. I understand you." + +"Oh, madame!" cried the countess; "you shall see them;" and opening a +secret drawer above the other, she drew out the originals, which were +carefully inclosed in an old portfolio, on which were the arms of the +Valois. + +The lady took them, and after examining them, said, "You are right; +these are perfectly satisfactory, and you must hold yourself in +readiness to produce them when called upon by proper authority." + +"And what do you think I may expect, madame?" asked Jeanne. + +"Doubtless a pension for yourself, and advancement for M. de la Motte, +if he prove worthy of it." + +"My husband is an honorable man, madame, and has never failed in his +military duties." + +"It is enough, madame," said the lady, drawing her hood still more over +her face. She then put her hand in her pocket, and drew out first the +same embroidered handkerchief with which we before saw her hiding her +face when in the sledge, then a small roll about an inch in diameter, +and three or four in length, which she placed on the chiffonier, saying, +"The treasurer of our charity authorizes me, madame, to offer you this +small assistance, until you shall obtain something better." + +Madame de la Motte threw a rapid glance at the little roll. "Three-franc +pieces," thought she, "and there must be nearly a hundred of them; what +a boon from heaven." + +While she was thus thinking, the two ladies moved quickly into the outer +room, where Clotilde had fallen asleep in her chair. + +The candle was burning out in the socket, and the smell which came from +it made the ladies draw out their smelling-bottles. Jeanne woke +Clotilde, who insisted on following them with the obnoxious candle-end. + +"Au revoir, Madame la Comtesse," said they. + +"Where may I have the honor of coming to thank you?" asked Jeanne. + +"We will let you know," replied the elder lady, going quickly down the +stairs. + +Madame de la Motte ran back into her room, impatient to examine her +rouleau, but her foot struck against something, and stooping to pick it +up, she saw a small flat gold box. + +She was some time before she could open it, but having at last found the +spring, it flew open and disclosed the portrait of a lady possessing no +small beauty. The coiffure was German, and she wore a collar like an +order. An M and a T encircled by a laurel wreath ornamented the inside +of the box. Madame de la Motte did not doubt, from the resemblance of +the portrait to the lady who had just left her, that it was that of her +mother, or some near relation. + +She ran to the stairs to give it back to them; but hearing the +street-door shut, she ran back, thinking to call them from the window, +but arrived there only in time to see a cabriolet driving rapidly away. +She was therefore obliged to keep the box for the present, and turned +again to the little rouleau. + +When she opened it, she uttered a cry of joy, "Double louis, fifty +double louis, two thousand and four hundred francs!" and transported at +the sight of more gold than she had ever seen before in her life, she +remained with clasped hands and open lips. "A hundred louis," she +repeated; "these ladies are then very rich. Oh! I will find them again." + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +BELUS. + + +Madame de la Motte was not wrong in thinking that the cabriolet which +she saw driving off contained the two ladies who had just left her. + +They had, in fact, found it waiting for them on their exit. It was +lightly built, open and fashionable, with high wheels, and a place +behind for a servant to stand. It was drawn by a magnificent bay horse +of Irish breed, short-tailed, and plump, which was driven by the same +man whom we have already heard addressed by the name of Weber. The horse +had become so impatient with waiting, that it was with some difficulty +that Weber kept him stationary. + +When he saw the ladies, he said, "Madame, I intended to bring Scipio, +who is gentle and easy to manage, but unluckily he received an injury +last evening, and I was forced to bring Belus, and he is rather +unmanageable." + +"Oh, Weber, I do not mind in the least," said the lady; "I am well used +to driving, and not at all timid." + +"I know how well madame drives, but the roads are so bad. Where are we +to go?" + +"To Versailles." + +"By the boulevards then, madame?" + +"No, Weber; it freezes hard, and the boulevards will be dreadful; the +streets will be better." + +He held the horse for the ladies to get in, then jumped up behind, and +they set off at a rapid pace. + +"Well, Andree, what do you think of the countess?" asked the elder lady. + +"I think, madame," she replied, "that Madame de la Motte is poor and +unfortunate." + +"She has good manners, has she not?" + +"Yes, doubtless." + +"You are somewhat cold about her, Andree." + +"I must confess, there is a look of cunning in her face that does not +please me." + +"Oh, you are always difficult to please, Andree; to please you, one must +have every good quality. Now, I find the little countess interesting and +simple, both in her pride and in her humility." + +"It is fortunate for her, madame, that she has succeeded in pleasing +you." + +"Take care!" cried the lady, at the same time endeavoring to check her +horse, which nearly ran over a street-porter at the corner of the Rue +St. Antoine. + +"Gare!" shouted Weber, in the voice of the Stentor. + +They heard the man growling and swearing, in which he was joined by +several people near, but Belus soon carried them away from the sound, +and they quickly reached the Place Baudoyer. + +From thence the skilful conductress continued her rapid course down the +Rue de la Tisseranderie, a narrow unaristocratic street, always crowded. +Thus, in spite of the reiterated warnings of herself and Weber, the +numbers began to increase around them, many of whom cried fiercely, "Oh! +the cabriolet! down with the cabriolet!" + +Belus, however, guided by the steady hand which held the reins, kept on +his rapid course, and not the smallest accident had yet occurred. + +But in spite of this skilful progress, the people seemed discontented at +the rapid course of the cabriolet, which certainly required some care on +their part to avoid, and the lady, perhaps half frightened at the +murmurs, and knowing the present excited state of the people, only +urged on her horse the faster to escape from them. + +Thus they proceeded until they reached the Rue du Coq St. Honore, and +here had been raised one of the most beautiful of those monuments in +snow of which we have spoken. + +Round this a great crowd had collected, and they were obliged to stop +until the people would make an opening for them to pass, which they did +at last, but with great grumbling and discontent. + +The next obstacle was at the gates of the Palais Royal, where, in a +courtyard, which had been thrown open, were a host of beggars crowding +round fires which had been lighted there, and receiving soup, which the +servants of M. le Duc d'Orleans were distributing to them in earthen +basins; and as in Paris a crowd collects to see everything, the number +of the spectators of this scene far exceeded that of the actors. + +Here, then, they were again obliged to stop, and to their dismay, began +to hear distinctly from behind loud cries of "Down with the cabriolet! +down with those that crush the poor!" + +"Can it be that those cries are addressed to us?" said the elder lady to +her companion. + +"Indeed, madame, I fear so," she replied. + +"Have we, do you think, run over any one?" + +"I am sure you have not." + +But still the cries seemed to increase. A crowd soon gathered round +them, and some even seized Belus by the reins, who thereupon began to +stamp and foam most furiously. + +"To the magistrate! to the magistrate!" cried several voices. + +The two ladies looked at each other in terror. Curious heads began to +peep under the apron of the cabriolet. + +"Oh, they are women," cried some; "Opera girls, doubtless," said others, +"who think they have a right to crush the poor because they receive ten +thousand francs a month." + +A general shout hailed these words, and they began again to cry, "To the +magistrate!" + +The younger lady shrank back trembling with fear; the other looked +around her with wonderful resolution, though with frowning brows and +compressed lips. + +"Oh, madame," cried her companione, "for heaven's sake, take care!" + +"Courage, Andree, courage!" she replied. + +"But they will recognize you, madame." + +"Look through the windows, if Weber is still behind the cabriolet." + +"He is trying to get down, but the mob surrounds him. Ah! here he +comes." + +"Weber," said the lady in German, "we will get out." + +The man vigorously pushed aside those nearest the carriage, and opened +the door. The ladies jumped out, and the crowd instantly seized on the +horse and cabriolet, which would evidently soon be in pieces. + +"What in heaven's name does it all mean? Do you understand it, Weber?" +said the lady, still in German. + +"Ma foi, no, madame," he replied, struggling to free a passage for them +to pass. + +"But they are not men, they are wild beasts," continued the lady; "with +what do they possibly reproach me?" + +She was answered by a voice, whose polite and gentlemanly tone +contrasted strangely with the savage murmurs of the people, and which +said in excellent German, "They reproach you, madame, with having braved +the police order, which appeared this morning, and which prohibited all +cabriolets, which are always dangerous, and fifty times more so in this +frost, when people can hardly escape fast enough, from driving through +the streets until the spring." + +The lady turned, and saw she was addressed by a young officer, whose +distinguished and pleasing air, and fine figure, could not but make a +favorable impression. + +"Oh, mon Dieu, monsieur," she said, "I was perfectly ignorant of this +order." + +"You are a foreigner, madame?" inquired the young officer. + +"Yes, sir; but tell me what I must do? they are destroying my +cabriolet." + +"You must let them destroy it, and take advantage of that time to +escape. The people are furious just now against all the rich, and on the +pretext of your breaking this regulation would conduct you before the +magistrate." + +"Oh, never!" cried Andree. + +"Then," said the officer, laughing, "profit by the space which I shall +make in the crowd, and vanish." + +The ladies gathered from his manner that he shared the opinion of the +people as to their station, but it was no time for explanations. + +"Give us your arm to a cab-stand," said the elder lady, in a voice full +of authority. + +"I was going to make your horse rear, and thereby clear you a passage," +said the young man, who did not much wish to take the charge of +escorting them through the crowd; "the people will become yet more +enraged, if they hear us speaking in a language unknown to them." + +"Weber," cried the lady, in a firm voice, "make Belus rear to disperse +the crowd." + +"And then, madame?" + +"Remain till we are gone." + +"But they will destroy the carriage." + +"Let them; what does that matter? save Belus if you can, but yourself +above all." + +"Yes, madame;" and a slight touch to the horse soon produced the desired +effect of dispersing the nearest part of the crowd, and throwing down +those who held by his reins. + +"Your arm, sir!" again said the lady to the officer; "come on, petite," +turning to Andree. + +"Let us go then, courageous woman," said the young man, giving his arm, +with real admiration, to her who asked for it. + +In a few minutes he had conducted them to a cab-stand, but the men were +all asleep on their seats. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +THE ROAD TO VERSAILLES. + + +The ladies were free from the crowd for the present, but there was some +danger that they might be followed and recognized, when the same tumult +would doubtless be renewed and escape a second time be more difficult. +The young officer knew this, and therefore hastened to awaken one of the +half-frozen and sleepy men. So stupefied, however, did they seem, that +he had great difficulty in rousing one of them. At last he took him by +the collar and shook him roughly. + +"Gently, gently!" cried the man, sitting up. + +"Where do you wish to go, ladies?" asked the officer. + +"To Versailles," said the elder lady, still speaking German. + +"Oh, to Versailles!" repeated the coachman; "four miles and a half over +this ice. No, I would rather not." + +"We will pay well," said the lady. + +This was repeated to the coachman in French by the young officer. + +"But how much?" said the coachman; "you see it is not only going, I must +come back again." + +"A louis; is that enough?" asked the lady of the officer, who, turning +to the coachman, said,-- + +"These ladies offer you a louis." + +"Well, that will do, though I risk breaking my horses' legs." + +"Why, you rascal, you know that if you were paid all the way there and +back, it would be but twelve francs, and we offer you twenty-four." + +"Oh, do not stay to bargain," cried the lady; "he shall have twenty +louis if he will only set off at once." + +"One is enough, madame." + +"Come down, sir, and open the door." + +"I will be paid first," said the man. + +"You will!" said the officer fiercely. + +"Oh! let us pay," said the lady, putting her hand in her pocket. She +turned pale. "Oh! mon Dieu, I have lost my purse! Feel for yours, +Andree." + +"Oh! madame, it is gone too." + +They looked at each other in dismay, while the young officer watched +their proceedings, and the coachman sat grinning, and priding himself on +his caution. + +The lady was about to offer her gold chain as a pledge, when the young +officer drew out a louis, and offered it to the man, who thereupon got +down and opened the door. + +The ladies thanked him warmly and got in. + +"And now, sir, drive these ladies carefully and honestly." + +The ladies looked at each other in terror; they could not bear to see +their protector leave them. + +"Oh! madame," said Andree, "do not let him go away." + +"But why not? we will ask for his address, and return him his louis +to-morrow, with a little note of thanks, which you shall write." + +"But, madame, suppose the coachman should not keep faith with us, and +should turn us out half way, what would become of us?" + +"Oh! we will take his number." + +"Yes, madame, I do not deny that you could have him punished afterwards; +but meanwhile, you would not reach Versailles, and what would they +think?" + +"True," replied her companion. + +The officer advanced to take leave. + +"Monsieur," said Andree, "one word more, if you please." + +"At your orders, madame," he said politely, but somewhat stiffly. + +"Monsieur, you cannot refuse us one more favor, after serving us so +much?" + +"What is it, madame?" + +"We are afraid of the coachman, who seems so unwilling to go." + +"You need not fear," replied he; "I have his number, and if he does not +behave well, apply to me." + +"To you, sir?" said Andree in French, forgetting herself; "we do not +even know your name." + +"You speak French," exclaimed the young man, "and you have been +condemning me all this time to blunder on in German!" + +"Excuse us, sir," said the elder lady, coming to Andree's rescue, "but +you must see, that though not perhaps foreigners, we are strangers in +Paris, and above all, out of our places in a hackney coach. You are +sufficiently a man of the world to see that we are placed in an awkward +position. I feel assured you are generous enough to believe the best of +us, and to complete the service you have rendered, and above all, to ask +us no questions." + +"Madame," replied the officer, charmed with her noble, yet pleasing +manner, "dispose of me as you will." + +"Then, sir, have the kindness to get in, and accompany us to +Versailles." + +The officer instantly placed himself opposite to them, and directed the +man to drive on. + +After proceeding in silence for some little time, he began to feel +himself surrounded with delicate and delicious perfumes, and gradually +began to think better of the ladies' position. "They are," thought he, +"ladies who have been detained late at some rendezvous, and are now +anxious to regain Versailles, much frightened, and a little ashamed; +still, two ladies, driving themselves in a cabriolet! However," +recollected he, "there was a servant behind; but then again, no money on +either of them, but probably the footman carried the purse; and the +carriage was certainly a very elegant one, and the horse could not have +been worth less than one hundred and fifty louis; therefore they must be +rich, so that the accidental want of money proves nothing. But why speak +a foreign language when they must be French? However, that at least +shows a good education, and they speak both languages with perfect +purity; besides, there is an air of distinction about them. The +supplication of the younger one was touching, and the request of the +other was noble and imposing; indeed, I begin to feel it dangerous to +pass two or three hours in a carriage with two such pretty women, pretty +and discreet also; for they do not speak, but wait for me to begin." + +On their parts, the ladies were doubtless thinking of him, for just as +he had arrived at these conclusions, the elder lady said to her +companion, but this time in English: + +"Really, this coachman crawls along; we shall never reach Versailles; I +fear our poor companion must be terribly ennuye." + +"Particularly," answered Andree, smiling, "as our conversation has not +been very amusing." + +"Do you not think he has a most distinguished air?" + +"Yes, certainly." + +"Besides, he wears the uniform of a naval officer, and all naval +officers are of good family. He looks well in it, too, for he is very +handsome." + +Here the young man interrupted them. "Your pardon, ladies," said he, in +excellent English, "but I must tell you that I understand English +perfectly; I do not, however, know Spanish; therefore, if you can and +like to speak in that language, you are safe from my understanding you." + +"Oh, monsieur," replied the lady, laughing, "we had no harm to say of +you, as you must have heard; therefore we will content ourselves with +French for the remainder of the time." + +"Thanks, madame, but if my presence be irksome to you----" + +"You cannot suppose that, sir, as it was we who begged you to accompany +us." + +"Exacted it, even," said Andree. + +"Oh, madame, you overwhelm me; pray pardon me my momentary hesitation; +but Paris is so full of snares and deceptions." + +"You then took us for----" + +"Monsieur took us for snares, that is all." + +"Oh! ladies," said the young man, quite humiliated, "I assure you, I did +not." + +"But what is the matter? The coach stops." + +"I will see, madame." + +"Oh! I think we are overturning; pray take care, sir." + +And Andree, in her terror, laid her hand on the young man's shoulder. + +He, yielding to an impulse, attempted to seize her little hand; but she +had in a moment thrown herself back again in the carriage. He therefore +got out, and found the coachman engaged in raising one of his horses, +which had fallen on the ice. + +The horse, with his aid, was soon on its legs again, and they pursued +their way. + +It seemed, however, that this little interruption had destroyed the +intimacy which had begun to spring up, for after the ladies had asked +and been told the cause of their detention, all relapsed into silence. + +The young man, however, who had derived some pleasure from the touch of +that little hand, thought he would at least have a foot in exchange; he +therefore stretched out his, and endeavored to touch hers, which, was, +however, quickly withdrawn; and when he did just touch that of the elder +lady, she said, with great sang-froid,---- + +"I fear, sir, I am dreadfully in your way." + +He colored up to the ears, and felt thankful to the darkness, which +prevented it from being seen. After this, he desisted, and remained +perfectly still, fearing even to renew the conversation, lest he should +seem impertinent to these ladies, to whom, at first, he had thought +himself rather condescending in his politeness. + +Still, in spite of himself, he felt more and more strongly attracted +towards them, and an increasing interest in them. From time to time he +heard them speak softly to each other, and he caught these words: + +"So late an hour! what excuse for being out?" + +At last the coach stopped again, but this time it was no accident, but +simply that they had arrived at Versailles. + +The young man thought the time had passed with marvelous quickness. + +"We are at Versailles," said the coachman. + +"Where must he stop, ladies?" asked the officer. + +"At the Place d'Armes." + +"At the Place d'Armes, coachman," said the officer; "go on.--I must say +something to them," thought he, "or they will now think me a stupid, as +they must before have thought me impertinent." + +"Mesdames," said he, "you are at length arrived." + +"Thanks to your generous assistance." + +"What trouble we have given you," added Andree. + +"Oh, madame, do not speak of it!" + +"Well, sir, we shall not forget; will you tell us your name?" + +"My name?" + +"Certainly, sir; you do not wish to make us a present of a louis, I +hope." + +"Oh, madame, if that is it," said the young man, rather piqued, "I +yield; I am the Comte de Charney, and as madame has already remarked, a +naval officer." + +"Charney," repeated the elder lady, "I shall not forget." + +"Yes, madame, Georges de Charney." + +"And you live----?" + +"Hotel des Princes, Rue de Richelieu." + +The coach stopped. The elder lady opened the door and jumped out +quickly, holding out a hand to her companion. + +"But pray, ladies," said he, preparing to follow them, "take my arm; you +are not yet at your own home." + +"Oh, sir, do not move." + +"Not move?" + +"No; pray remain in the coach." + +"You cannot walk alone at this time of night; it is impossible." + +"Now, you see," said the elder lady, gaily, "after almost refusing to +oblige us, you wish to be too obliging." + +"But, madame----" + +"Sir, remain to the end a loyal and gallant cavalier; we thank you, M. +de Charney, with all our hearts, and will not even ask your word----" + +"To do what, madame?" + +"To shut the door, and order the man to drive back to Paris, without +even looking where we go, which you will do, will you not?" + +"I will obey you, madame; coachman, back again." And he put a second +louis into the man's hand, who joyfully set off on his return. + +The young man sighed, as he took his place on the cushions which the +unknown ladies had just occupied. + +They remained motionless till the coach was out of sight, and then took +their way towards the castle. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +LAURENT. + + +At this moment our heroines heard the clock strike from the church of +St. Louis. + +"Oh, mon Dieu! a quarter to twelve," they cried, in terror. + +"See, all the doors are shut," said Andree. + +"Oh, that is nothing; for, if they were open, we would not go in here. +Let us go round by the reservoirs." And they turned to the right, where +there was a private entrance. + +When they arrived there, "The door is shut, Andree," said the elder +lady, rather uneasily. + +"Let us knock, madame." + +"No, we will call; Laurent must be waiting for me, for I told him +perhaps I should return late." + +"I will call," said Andree, approaching the door. + +"Who is there?" said a voice from inside. + +"Oh, it is not Laurent!" said she, terrified. + +"Is it not?" and the other lady advanced, and called softly, "Laurent." + +No answer. + +"Laurent?" again she called, louder. + +"There is no Laurent here," replied the voice, rudely. + +"But," said Andree, "whether he be here or not, open the door." + +"I cannot open it." + +"But Laurent would have opened it immediately." + +"I have my orders," was all the reply. + +"Who are you, then?" + +"Rather, who are you?" + +Rude as the question was, it was no time to find fault, so they +answered, "We are ladies of her majesty's suite, we lodge in the castle, +and we wish to get home." + +"Well, I, mesdames, am a Suisse of the Salischamade company, and I shall +do just the contrary of Laurent, for I shall leave you at the door." + +"Oh!" murmured the ladies, in terror and anger. + +Then, making an effort over herself, the elder lady said, "My friend, I +understand that you are obeying orders, and I do not quarrel with you +for that--it is a soldier's duty; only do me the favor to call +Laurent--he cannot be far distant." + +"I cannot quit my post." + +"Then send some one." + +"I have no one to send." + +"For pity's sake!" + +"Oh, mon Dieu, sleep in the town, that is no great thing; if I were shut +out of the barracks, I would soon find a bed." + +"Listen," said the lady again; "you shall have twenty louis, if you open +this door." + +"And twelve years at the galleys: no, thank you. Forty-eight francs a +year is not sufficient pay for that." + +"I will get you made a sergeant." + +"Yes, and he who gave me the order will have me shot." + +"And who did give you the order?" + +"The king." + +"The king!" cried they; "oh, we are lost!" + +"Is there no other door?" + +"Oh! madame, if this one is closed, be sure all the others will be so +also," said Andree. + +"You are right, Andree. 'Tis a horrible trick of the king," she said, +with a contempt almost menacing. + +There was a sort of bank outside the door, which they sank down upon in +despair. They could see the light under the door, and could hear the +steps of the sentinel as he paced to and fro. + +Within this little door was salvation; without, shame and scandal. + +"Oh! to-morrow, to-morrow, when they will find out," murmured the elder +lady. + +"You will tell the truth, madame." + +"But shall I be believed?" + +"Oh! we can prove it; besides, the soldier will not stay all night; he +will be relieved, and perhaps his successor will be more complacent." + +"Yes, but the patrol will pass directly, and will find me here, waiting +outside. It is infamous; I am suffocated with rage." + +"Oh, take courage, madame! you, who are always so brave." + +"It is a plot, Andree, in order to ruin me. This door is never closed. +Oh, I shall die!" + +At this moment they heard a step approaching, and then the voice of a +young man, singing gaily as he went along. + +"That voice," cried the lady, "I know it, I am sure." + +"Oh, yes, madame, he will save us." + +A young man, wrapped up in a fur riding-coat, came quickly up, and +without noticing them, knocked at the door, and called, "Laurent." + +"Brother," said the elder lady, touching him on the shoulder. + +"The queen," cried he, taking off his hat. + +"Hush," said she. + +"You are not alone?" + +"No, I am with Mademoiselle Andree de Taverney." + +"Oh, good evening, mademoiselle." + +"Good evening, monseigneur." + +"Are you going out, madame?" asked he. + +"No." + +"Then you are going in." + +"We wished to do so." + +"Have you not called Laurent?" + +"Yes, we have, but----" + +"But what?" + +"You call Laurent, and you will see." + +The young man, whom the reader has, perhaps, already recognized as the +Comte d'Artois, approached and again called "Laurent." + +"I warn you," answered from within the voice of the Suisse, "that if you +torment me any more I will go and fetch my commanding officer." + +"Who is this?" asked the count, turning round in astonishment to the +queen. + +"A Swiss who has been substituted for Laurent." + +"By whom?" + +"By the king." + +"The king?" + +"Yes, he told us so himself." + +"And with orders?" + +"Most strict, apparently." + +"Diable! we must capitulate." + +"What do you mean?" she asked. + +"Offer him money." + +"I have already done so, and he has refused it." + +"Offer him promotion." + +"I have offered that also, but he would not listen." + +"Then there is but one way." + +"What?" + +"To make a noise." + +"My dear Charles, you will compromise us." + +"Not the least in the world; you keep in the background, I will knock +like thunder, and shout like a madman; they will open at last, and you +can slide in with me." + +"Try, then." + +The young prince began calling Laurent, knocking at the door and +striking with his sword, till at last the Swiss said, "Ah, well! I will +call my officer." + +"Go and call him, that is just what I want." + +They soon heard other steps approaching. The queen and Andree kept +close, ready to slip in if the door should open; then they heard the +Swiss say, "It is a gentleman, lieutenant, who insists on coming in." + +"Well, I suppose that is not astonishing, as we belong to the castle," +said the count. + +"It is no doubt a natural wish, but a forbidden one," replied the +officer. + +"Forbidden--by whom? morbleu!" + +"By the king." + +"But the king would not wish an officer of the castle to sleep outside." + +"Sir, I am not the judge of that; I have only to obey orders." + +"Come, lieutenant, open the door; we cannot talk through this oak." + +"Sir, I repeat to you that my orders are to keep it shut; and if you are +an officer, as you say, you know that I must obey." + +"Lieutenant, you speak to the colonel of a regiment." + +"Excuse me, then, colonel, but my orders are positive." + +"But they cannot concern a prince. Come, sir, a prince cannot be kept +out." + +"My prince, I am in despair, but the king has ordered----" + +"The king has ordered you to turn away his brother like a beggar or a +robber? I am the Comte d'Artois, sir. Mordieu! you keep me here freezing +at the door." + +"Monseigneur, God is my witness that I would shed my blood for your +royal highness. But the king gave me his orders in person, and confiding +to me the charge of this door, ordered me not to open to any one, +should it be even himself, after eleven o'clock. Therefore, monseigneur, +I ask your pardon humbly for disobeying you, but I am a soldier, and +were it her majesty the queen who asked admittance, I should be forced +most unwillingly to refuse." + +Having said this, the officer turned away and left the place. + +"We are lost," said the queen. + +"Do they know that you are out?" asked the count. + +"Alas, I know not!" + +"Perhaps, then, this order is leveled against me; the king knows I often +go out at night, and stay late. Madame la Comtesse d'Artois must have +heard something, and complained to him, and hence this tyrannical +order." + +"Ah, no, brother, I thank you for trying to reassure me, but I feel that +it is against me these precautions are taken." + +"Impossible, sister! the king has too much esteem----" + +"Meanwhile, I am left at the door, and to-morrow a frightful scandal +will be the result. I know well I have an enemy near the king." + +"It is possible; however, I have an idea." + +"What? only be quick. If you can but save us from the ridicule of this +position, it is all I care for." + +"Oh, I will save you; I am not more foolish than he, for all his +learning." + +"Than whom?" + +"Ah, pardieu, the Comte de Provence." + +"Ah, then, you also know my enemy." + +"Is he not the enemy of all that are young and beautiful, of all who are +better than himself?" + +"Count, I believe you know something about this order." + +"Perhaps, but do not let us stop here. Come with me, dear sister." + +"Where?" + +"You shall see, somewhere where at least you will be warm, and en route +I will tell you all I know about this. Take my arm, sister, and you the +other, Madlle. de Taverney, and let us turn to the right." + +"Well, but now go on," said the queen. + +"This evening after the king's supper, he came to his cabinet. He had +been talking all day to Count Haga, you had not been seen----" + +"No, at two o'clock I left to go to Paris." + +"I know it. The king, allow me to tell you, dear sister, was thinking no +more about you than about Haroun-al-Raschid, or his Vizier Giaffar, and +was talking geography. I listened with some impatience, for I also +wanted to go out; probably not with the same object as you." + +"Where are we going?" interrupted the queen. + +"Oh, close by; take care, there is a snow-heap. Madlle. de Taverney, if +you leave my arm you will certainly fall. But to return to the king: he +was thinking of nothing but latitude and longitude, when M. de Provence +said to him, 'I should like to pay my respects to the queen.' + +"'The queen sups at home,' replied the king. + +"'Oh, I believed her at Paris.' + +"'No, she is at home,' said the king, quietly. + +"'I have just come from there, and been denied to her,' said M. de +Provence. + +"Then I saw the king frown. He dismissed us, and doubtless went to make +inquiries. Louis is jealous by fits, you know; he must have asked to see +you, and being refused, become suspicious." + +"Yes, Madame de Misery had orders to do so." + +"Then, to know whether you were out or not, he has given these strict +orders." + +"Oh, it is shameful treatment. Confess, is it not?" + +"Indeed, I think so; but here we are." + +"This house?" + +"Does it displease you?" + +"No, I do not say that--it is charming. But your servants?" + +"Well!" + +"If they see me." + +"Come in, sister, and I will guarantee that no one sees you, not even +whoever opens the door." + +"Impossible!" + +"We will try," said he, laughing; and laying his hand on one of the +panels, the door flew open. + +"Enter, I pray you," said he, "there is no one near." + +The queen looked at Andree, then, making up her mind, went in, and the +door shut behind them. + +She found herself in a vestibule, small, but ornamented in perfect +taste. The floor was mosaic work, representing bouquets of flowers, +while numerous rose-trees on marble brackets scented the air with a +perfume equally delicious as rare at that time of the year. + +It looked all so charming, that the ladies began to forget their fears +and scruples. + +"So far well," said the queen; "we have a shelter, at all events, and +seemingly a very charming one; but you had better see to one thing--that +is, to keep off your servants." + +"Oh, nothing more easy;" and the prince, seizing a little bell which +hung on one of the pillars, rang one clear stroke. + +"Oh!" cried the queen, frightened, "is that the way to keep them off? I +should have thought it would bring them." + +"If I had rung again, it would have done so, but when I only ring once, +they know they are not wanted." + +"Oh, you are a man of precaution!" said the queen laughing. + +"Now, dear sister, take the trouble to go up-stairs." + +"Let us obey," said the queen, "the genius of this place appears not +disagreeable;" and they went up, their steps making no sound on the +thick Aubusson carpet. + +At the top, the prince rang another bell, which gave them a fresh start +of surprise, and their astonishment increased when they saw the doors +open of themselves. + +"Really, Andree," said the queen, "I begin to tremble, do not you?" + +"Oh, madame, I shall follow fearlessly wherever your majesty goes." + +"Enter," said the prince, "for here is your apartment;" and he ushered +them into a charming little room, furnished 'en buhl,' with a painted +ceiling and walls, and a rosewood floor. It opened into a boudoir, +fitted up with white cashmere, beautifully embroidered with groups of +flowers, and hung with tapestry of exquisite workmanship. Beyond the +boudoir was a bedroom, painted blue, hung with curtains of silk and +lace, and with a sumptuous bed in an alcove. A fire burned on the +hearth, and a dozen perfumed wax-lights in candelabra. + +Such were the marvels which presented themselves to the eyes of the +wondering ladies. No living being was to be seen; fire and lights seemed +to have come without hands. + +The queen stopped on the threshold of the bedroom, looking half afraid +to enter. + +"Sister," said the count, "these are my bachelor apartments; here I come +alone." + +"Always?" asked the queen. + +"Doubtless," answered he. + +"I understand now," said the queen, "why Madame la Comtesse is sometimes +unquiet." + +"Confess, however, that if she is unquiet to-night, it Will be without +reason." + +"To-night, I do not say, but other nights." Then, sitting down; "I am +dreadfully tired," she said; "are not you, Andree?" + +"I can scarcely stand, and if your majesty permits----" + +"Indeed you look ill, mademoiselle," said the count. + +"You must go to bed," said the queen. "M. le Comte gives us up this +room; do you not, Charles?" + +"Entirely, madame." + +"One moment, count. If you go away, how can we recall you?" + +"You will not need me; you are mistress of this house." + +"But there are other rooms." + +"Certainly, there is a dining-room, which I advise you to visit." + +"With a table ready spread, no doubt." + +"Oh, yes, and Mademoiselle de Taverney, who seems to me to need it much, +will find there jellies or chicken, and wine, and you, sister, plenty of +those fruits you are so fond of." + +"And no servants?" + +"None." + +"We will see; but how to return?" + +"You must not think of returning to-night. At six o'clock the gates will +be opened, go out a quarter before, you will find in these drawers +mantles of all colors and all shapes, if you wish to disguise +yourselves. Go therefore to the chateau, regain your rooms, go to bed, +and all will be right." + +"But you, what will you do?" + +"Oh, I am going away." + +"We turn you out, my poor brother!" + +"It is better for me not to remain in the same house with you." + +"But you must sleep somewhere." + +"Do not fear; I have three other houses like this." + +The queen laughed. "And he pretends Madame la Comtesse has no cause to +be anxious; oh, I will tell her!" + +"You dare not." + +"It is true, we are dependent upon you. Then, to go away to-morrow +morning without seeing any one?" + +"You must ring once, as I did below, and the door will open." + +"By itself?" + +"By itself." + +"Then good night, brother." + +"Good night, sister." He bowed and disappeared. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +THE QUEEN'S BED-CHAMBER. + + +The next day, or rather the same morning, for our last chapter brought +us to two o'clock, the King Louis XVI., in a violet-colored morning +dress, in some disorder, and with no powder in his hair, knocked at the +door of the queen's ante-chamber. + +It was opened by one of her women. + +"The queen?" asked Louis, in a brusque manner. + +"Her majesty is asleep, sire." + +The king made a movement, as though to pass in but the woman did not +move. + +"Do you not see," he said, "that I wish to come in." + +"But the queen is asleep, sire," again she said timidly. + +"I told you to let me pass," answered the king, going in as he spoke. + +When he reached the door of the bedroom, the king saw Madame de Misery, +the first lady-in-waiting, who was sitting reading from her mass book. + +She rose on seeing him. "Sire," she said, in a low voice, and with a +profound reverence, "her majesty has not yet called for me." + +"Really?" said the king, in an ironical tone. + +"But, sire, it is only half-past six, and her majesty never rings before +seven." + +"And you are sure that her majesty is asleep in bed?" + +"I cannot affirm that she is asleep, sire, but I can that she is in +bed." + +The king could contain himself no longer, but went straight to the door, +which he opened with some noise. The room was in complete darkness, the +shutters closed, and the curtains drawn. A night lamp burned on a +bracket, but it only gave a dim and feeble light. + +The king walked rapidly towards the bed. + +"Oh, Madame de Misery," said the queen, "how noisy you are--you have +disturbed me!" + +The king remained stupefied. "It is not Madame de Misery," he murmured. + +"What, is it you, sire?" said Marie Antoinette, raising herself up. + +"Good morning, madame," said the king, in a surly tone. + +"What good wind blows you here, sire? Madame de Misery, come and open +the shutters." + +She came in instantly, as usual, opened all the doors and windows, to +let in light and fresh air. + +"You sleep well, madame," said the king, seating himself, and casting +scrutinizing glances round the room. + +"Yes, sire, I read late, and had your majesty not disturbed me, might +have slept for some time longer." + +"How was it that you did not receive visitors yesterday?" asked the +king. + +"Whom do you mean?--M. de Provence," said the queen, with great presence +of mind. + +"Yes, exactly; he wished to pay his respects to you, and was refused." + +"Well!" + +"They said you were out." + +"Did they say that?" asked the queen carelessly. "Madame de Misery----" + +The lady appeared, bringing in with her a number of letters on a gold +salver. "Did your majesty call?" she asked. + +"Yes. Did they tell M. de Provence yesterday that I was out? Will you +tell the king, for really I forget." + +"Sire," said Madame de Misery, while the queen took her letters and +began to read, "I told Monseigneur le Comte de Provence that her majesty +did not receive." + +"And by whose orders?" + +"By the queen's, sire." + +Meanwhile, the queen had opened one of the letters, and read these +lines: "You returned from Paris yesterday, and entered the chateau at +eight o'clock in the evening; Laurent saw you." + +Madame de Misery left the room. + +"Pardon, sire," said the queen, "but will you answer me one question?" + +"What, madame?" + +"Am I, or am I not, at liberty to see M. de Provence only when it +pleases me?" + +"Oh, perfectly at liberty, madame, but----" + +"Well, his conversation wearies me; besides, he does not love me, and I +like him no better. I expected his visit, and went to bed at eight +o'clock to avoid it. But you look disturbed, sire." + +"I believed you to be in Paris yesterday." + +"At what time?" + +"At the time at which you pretend to have gone to bed." + +"Doubtless, I went to Paris; but what of that?" + +"All, madame, depends on what time you returned." + +"Oh, you wish to know at what time exactly I returned?" + +"Yes." + +"It is easy. Madame de Misery----" + +The Lady reappeared. + +"What time was it when I returned from Paris yesterday?" + +"About eight o'clock, your majesty." + +"I do not believe it," said the king, "you make a mistake, Madame de +Misery." + +The lady walked to the door, and called, "Madame Dural!" + +"Yes, madame," replied a voice. + +"At what time did her majesty return from Paris yesterday?" + +"About eight o'clock, madame," replied the other. + +"The king thinks we are mistaken." + +Madame Dural put her head out of the window, and cried, "Laurent!" + +"Who is Laurent?" asked the king. + +"The porter at the gate where her majesty entered," said Madame de +Misery. + +"Laurent," said Madame Dural, "what time was it when her majesty came +home last evening?" + +"About eight o'clock," answered Laurent. + +Madame de Misery then left the room, and the king and queen remained +alone. + +He felt ashamed of his suspicions. + +The queen, however, only said coldly, "Well, sire, is there anything +else you wish to know?" + +"Oh, nothing!" cried he, taking her hands in his; "forgive me; I do not +know what came into my head--my joy is as great as my repentance. You +will not be angry, will you? I am in despair at having annoyed you." + +The queen withdrew her hand, and said; "Sire, a queen of France must not +tell a falsehood." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I mean that I did not return at eight o'clock last evening." + +The king drew back in surprise. + +"I mean," continued the queen in the same cold manner, "that I only +returned at six o'clock this morning." + +"Madame!" + +"And that, but for the kindness of M. le Comte d'Artois, who gave me an +asylum, and lodged me out of pity in one of his houses, I should have +been left all night at the door of the chateau like a beggar." + +"Ah! you had not then returned?" said the king, gloomily; "then I was +right." + +"Sire, you have not behaved towards me as a gentleman should." + +"In what, madame?" + +"In this--that if you wish to know whether I return late or early, you +have no need to close the gates, with orders not to open them, but +simply to come to me and ask, 'Madame, at what time did you return?' You +have no more reason to doubt, sire. Your spies have been deceived, your +precautions nullified, and your suspicions dissipated. I saw you ashamed +of the part you had played, and I might have continued to triumph in my +victory, but I think your proceedings shameful for a king, and unworthy +of a gentleman; and I would not refuse myself the satisfaction of +telling you so. + +"It is useless, sire," she continued, seeing the king about to speak; +"nothing can excuse your conduct towards me." + +"On the contrary, madame," replied he, "nothing is more easy. Not a +single person in the chateau suspected that you had not already +returned; therefore no one could think that my orders referred to you. +Probably they were attributed to the dissipations of M. le Comte +d'Artois--for that I care nothing. Therefore, madame, appearances were +saved, as far as you were concerned. I wished simply to give you a +secret lesson, from which the amount of irritation you show leads me to +hope you will profit. Therefore, I still think I was in the right, and +do not repent what I have done." + +The queen listened, and seemed to calm herself, by an effort, to prepare +for the approaching contest. "Then, sire," she said, "you think you need +no excuse for keeping at the door of your castle the daughter of Maria +Theresa, your wife, and the mother of your children? No! it is in your +eyes a pleasantry worthy of a king, and of which the morality doubles +the value. It is nothing to you, to have forced the Queen of France to +pass the night in this 'petite maison,' where the Comte d'Artois +receives the ladies of the Opera and the 'femmes galantes' of your +court. Oh no! that is nothing. A philosopher king is above all such +considerations. Only, on this occasion, I have reason to thank heaven +that my brother-in-law is a dissipated man, as his dissipation has saved +me from disgrace, and his vices have sheltered my honor." + +The king colored, and moved uneasily on his chair. + +"Oh yes!" continued the queen, with a bitter laugh, "I know that you are +a moral king, but your morality produces strange effects. You say that +no one knew that I was out. Will you tell me that M. de Provence, your +instigator, did not know it; or M. le Comte d'Artois--or my women? who, +by my orders, told you falsehoods this morning; or Laurent--bought by M. +d'Artois and by me? Let us continue this habit, sire; you, to set spies +and Swiss guards; and I, to buy them over and cheat you; and in a month +we will calculate together how much the dignity of the throne and our +marriage has gained by it." + +It was evident that her words had made a great impression on him to whom +they were addressed. + +"You know," said he, in an altered voice, "that I am always sincere, and +willing to acknowledge if I have been wrong. Will you prove to me that +you were right to go into Paris in sledges, accompanied by a gay party, +which, in the present unhappy state of things, is likely to give +offense? Will you prove to me, that you were right to disappear in +Paris, like maskers at a ball, and only to reappear scandalously late at +night, when every one else was asleep? You have spoken of the dignity of +the throne, and of marriage; think you that it befits a queen, a wife, +and a mother, to act thus?" + +"I will reply in a few words, sire; for it seems to me, that such +accusations merit nothing but contempt. I left Versailles in a sledge, +because it is the quickest way of getting to Paris at present. I went +with Madlle. de Taverney, whose reputation is certainly one of the +purest in our court. I went to Paris, I repeat, to verify the fact that +the King of France, the great upholder of morality--he who takes care of +poor strangers, warms the beggars, and earns the gratitude of the people +by his charities, leaves dying of hunger, exposed to every attack of +vice and misery, one of his own family--one who is as much as himself a +descendant of the kings who have reigned in France." + +"What!" cried the king in surprise. + +"I mounted," continued the queen, "into a garret, and there saw, without +fire, almost without light, and without money, the granddaughter of a +great prince, and I gave one hundred louis to this victim of royal +forgetfulness and neglect. Then, as I was detained late there, and as +the frost was severe, and horses go slowly over ice, particularly +hackney-coach horses----" + +"Hackney-coach horses!" cried the king. "You returned in a +hackney-coach?" + +"Yes, sire--No. 107." + +"Oh, oh!" said the king, with every sign of vexation. + +"Yes, and only too happy to get it," said the queen. + +"Madame!" interrupted he, "you are full of noble feelings; but this +impetuous generosity becomes a fault. Remember," continued he, "that I +never suspected you of anything that was not perfectly pure and honest: +it is only your mode of acting and adventurous spirit that displease me. +You have, as usual, been doing good, but the way you set about it makes +it injurious to yourself. This is what I reproach you with. You say that +I have faults to repair--that I have failed in my duty to a member of my +own family. Tell me who the unfortunate is, and he shall no longer have +reason to complain." + +"The name of Valois, sire, is sufficiently illustrious not to have +escaped your memory." + +"Ah!" cried Louis, with a shout of laughter, "I know now whom you mean. +La petite Valois, is it not?--a countess of something or other." + +"De la Motte, sire." + +"Precisely, De la Motte; her husband is a gendarme." + +"Yes, sire." + +"And his wife is an intrigante. Oh! you need not trouble yourself about +her: she is moving heaven and earth; she worries my ministers, she +teases my aunts, and overwhelms me with supplications, memorials, and +genealogies." + +"And all this uselessly, sire." + +"I must confess it." + +"Is she, or is she not, a Valois?" + +"I believe she is." + +"Well, then, I ask an honorable pension for her and a regiment for her +husband. In fact, a decent position for this branch of the royal +family." + +"An honorable pension? Mon Dieu! how you run on, madame. Do you know +what a terrible hole this winter has made in my funds? A regiment for +this little gendarme, who speculated in marrying a Valois? Why, I have +no regiments to give, even to those who deserve them, or who can pay for +them. An income befitting a Valois for these people? when we, monarch as +we are, have not one befitting a rich gentleman. Why, M. d'Orleans has +sent his horses and mules to England for sale, and has cut off a third +of his establishment. I have put down my wolf-hounds, and given up many +other things. We are all on the privation list, great and small." + +"But these Valois must not die of hunger." + +"Have you not just given them one hundred louis?" + +"And what is that?" + +"A royal gift." + +"Then give such another." + +"Yours will do for us both." + +"No, I want a pension for them." + +"No, I will not bind myself to anything fixed; they will not let me +forget them, and I will give when I have money to spare. I do not think +much of this little Valois." + +Saying these words, Louis held out his hand to the queen, who, however, +turned from him and said, "No, you are not good to me, and I am angry." + +"You bear malice," said the king "and I----" + +"Oh, you shut the gates against me; you come at half-past six to my +room, and force open the door in a passion." + +"I was not in a passion," said the king. + +"You are not now, you mean." + +"What will you give me if I prove that I was not, even when I came in?" + +"Let me see the proof." + +"Oh, it is very easy; I have it in my pocket." + +"Bah!" said the queen; but adding, with curiosity, "You have brought +something to give me, but I warn you I shall not believe you, unless you +show it me at once." + +Then, with a smile full of kindness, the king began searching in his +pockets, with that slowness which makes the child doubly impatient for +his toy, the animal for his food, and the woman for her present: at last +he drew out a box of red morocco leather, artistically ornamented in +gold. + +"A jewel box!" cried the queen. + +The king laid it on the bed. + +She opened it impatiently, and then called out, "Oh, mon Dieu! how +beautiful!" + +The king smiled with delight. "Do you think so?" said he. + +The queen could not answer--she was breathless with admiration. Then she +drew out of the box a necklace of diamonds, so large, so pure, so +glittering, and so even, that, with sparkling eyes, she cried again, +"Oh! it is magnificent." + +"Then you are content?" said the king. + +"Enchanted, sire; you make me too happy." + +"Really?" + +"See this first row; the diamonds are as large as filberts, and so even, +you could not tell one from the other; then how beautifully the +gradation of the rows is managed; the jeweler who made this necklace is +an artist." + +"They are two." + +"Then I wager it is Boehmer and Bossange." + +"You have guessed right." + +"Indeed, no one but they would risk making such a thing." + +"Madame, take care," said the king; "you will have to pay too dear for +this necklace." + +"Oh, sire!" cried the queen, all the delight fading from her +countenance. + +"You must pay the price of letting me be the first to put it on:" and he +approached her, holding in his hands the two ends of the magnificent +necklace, of which the clasp was one great diamond. + +She stopped him, saying, "But, sire, is it very dear?" + +"Have I not told you the price?" + +"Ah, Louis, we must not jest. Put the necklace back again." + +"You refuse to allow me to put it on?" + +"Oh no, sire, if I were going to wear it." + +"What?" said the king, surprised. + +"No," she said; "no one shall see a necklace of this price round my +neck." + +"You will not wear it?" + +"Never." + +"You refuse me." + +"I refuse to wear a million or a million and a half of francs round my +neck, for this necklace must cost that." + +"I do not deny it," said the king. + +"Then I do refuse to wear such a necklace while the king's coffers are +empty, when he is forced to stint his charities, and to say to the poor, +'God help you, for I have no more to give.'" + +"Are you serious in saying this?" + +"Listen, sire; M. de Sartines told me a short time since that with that +sum we could build a ship of the line; and in truth, sire, the king has +more need of a ship than the queen of a necklace." + +"Oh!" cried the king, joyfully, and with his eyes full of tears, "what +you do is sublime. Thanks, Antoinette; you are a good wife!" and he +threw his arms round her neck and kissed her. "Oh! how France will bless +you," continued he; "and it shall hear what you have done." + +The queen sighed. + +"You regret," said he: "it is not too late." + +"No, sire; shut this case, and return it to the jewelers." + +"But listen, first; I have arranged the terms of payment, and I have the +money." + +"No, I have decided. I will not have the necklace; but I want something +else." + +"Diable! then my 1,600,000 francs are gone, after all." + +"What! it would have cost that?" + +"Indeed it would." + +"Reassure yourself; what I ask is much cheaper." + +"What do you wish for?" + +"To go to Paris once more." + +"Oh! that is easy enough, and not dear." + +"But wait----" + +"Diable!" + +"To the Place Vendome, to see M. Mesmer." + +"Diable!" again said the king; but added: "Well, as you have denied +yourself the necklace, I suppose I must let you go; but, on one +condition." + +"What?" + +"You must be accompanied by a princess of the blood." + +"Shall it be Madame de Lamballe?" + +"Yes, if you like." + +"I promise." + +"Then I consent." + +"Thanks, sire." + +"And, now," said the king, "I shall order my ship of the line, and call +it the 'Queen's Necklace.' You shall stand godmother, and then I will +send it out to La Perouse;" and, kissing his wife's hand, he went away +quite joyful. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +THE QUEEN'S PETITE LEVEE. + + +No sooner was the king gone than the queen rose, and went to the window. +The morning was lovely, and had the charming feeling of the commencement +of spring, while the sun seemed almost warm. The wind had gone round to +the west, and if it remained in that quarter this terrible winter was +probably at an end. + +The snow was beginning to drip from the trees, under the influence of +this genial morning. + +"If we wish to profit by the ice," cried the queen, "I believe we must +make haste; for look, Madame de Misery, the spring seems to have begun. +I much wish to make up a party on the Swiss lake, and will go to-day, +for to-morrow it may be too late." + +"Then at what hour will your majesty wish to dress?" + +"Immediately; I will breakfast and then go." + +"Are there any other orders, madame?" + +"See if Madlle. de Taverney has risen, and tell her I wish to speak to +her." + +"She is already waiting for you in the boudoir, madame." + +"Already?" said the queen, who knew at what time she had gone to bed. + +"She has been there for twenty minutes, madame." + +"Ask her to come in." + +Andree soon entered, dressed with her usual care, and smiling, though +rather unquiet. + +The queen's answering smile quite reassured her. + +"Go, my good Misery, and send me Leonard." + +When she was gone, "The king has been charming," said the queen to +Andree; "he has laughed, and is quite disarmed." + +"But does he know, madame?" + +"You understand, Andree, that a woman does not tell falsehoods when she +has done no wrong and is the Queen of France." + +"Certainly, madame." + +"Still, my dear Andree, it seems we have been wrong----" + +"Doubtless, madame, but how?" + +"Why, in pitying Madame de la Motte; the king dislikes her, but I +confess she pleased me." + +"Here is Leonard," said Madame de Misery, returning. + +The queen seated herself before her silver-gilt toilet-table, and the +celebrated hair-dresser commenced his operations. + +She had the most beautiful hair in the world, and was fond of looking at +it; Leonard knew this, and therefore with her was always tardy in his +movements, that she might have time to admire it. + +Marie Antoinette was looking beautiful that morning: she was pleased and +happy. + +Her hair finished, she turned again to Andree. + +"You have not been scolded," she said; "you are free: besides, they say +every one is afraid of you, because, like Minerva, you are too wise." + +"I, madame?" + +"Yes, you; but, oh, mon Dieu! how happy you are to be unmarried, and, +above all, to be content to be so." + +Andree blushed, and tried to smile. + +"It is a vow that I have made," said she. + +"And which you will keep, beautiful vestal?" + +"I hope so." + +"Apropos," said the queen, "I remember, that although unmarried, you +have a master since yesterday morning." + +"A master, madame?" + +"Yes, your dear brother; what do you call him?--Philippe, is it not?" + +"Yes, madame." + +"Has he arrived?" + +"He came yesterday." + +"And you have not yet seen him? I took you away to Paris, selfish that I +was; it was unpardonable." + +"Oh, madame! I pardon you willingly, and Philippe also." + +"Are you sure?" + +"I answer for both of us." + +"How is he?" + +"As usual, beautiful and good, madame." + +"How old is he now?" + +"Thirty-two." + +"Poor Philippe! do you know that it is fourteen years since I first met +him! But I have not seen him now for nine or ten." + +"Whenever your majesty pleases to receive him he will be but too happy +to assure you that this long absence has not altered the sentiment of +respectful devotion which he has ever felt for his queen." + +"I will see him at once." + +"In a quarter of an hour he will be at your majesty's feet." + +Scarcely was Andree gone, when the queen saw reflected in the glass an +arch and laughing face. "My brother D'Artois," cried the queen; "how you +frightened me!" + +"Good morning, your majesty," said the young prince; "how did your +majesty pass the night?" + +"Very badly, brother." + +"And the morning?" + +"Very well." + +"That is the most important; I guessed that all had gone right, for I +have just met the king, and he was smiling most graciously." + +The queen laughed, and he echoed it. + +The queen had just cast off her dressing-gown of India muslin, and put +on her morning dress, when the door opened and Andree entered, leading +by the hand a handsome man with a brown complexion, noble black eyes, +profoundly imbued with melancholy, and a soldier-like carriage. He +looked like one of Coypel's or Gainsborough's beautiful portraits. + +He was dressed in a dark gray coat, embroidered in silver, a white +cravat, and a dark waistcoat; and this rather somber style of dress +seemed to suit the manly character of his beauty. + +"Your majesty," said Andree, "here is my brother." + +Philippe bowed gravely. + +The queen, who had until now been looking at his figure reflected in her +mirror, turned round and saluted him. She was beautiful, with that royal +beauty which made all around her not only partisans of the throne, but +adorers of the woman. She possessed the power of beauty; and, if we may +make use of the inversion, the beauty of power. Philippe, seeing her +smile, and feeling those limpid eyes, at once soft and proud, fixed upon +him, turned pale, and could hardly restrain his emotion. + +"It appears, M. de Taverney," said she, "that you pay me your first +visit; I thank you for it." + +"Your majesty deigns to forget that it is I who should give thanks." + +"How many years have passed since we last met, monsieur? Alas! the most +beautiful part of our lives." + +"For me, madame, but not for your majesty, to whom all days are alike +charming." + +"You were then pleased with America, M. de Taverney, as you remained +there so long?" + +"Madame," answered Philippe, "M. de la Fayette, when he left the New +World, had need of an officer in whom he could place confidence to take +the command of the French auxiliaries. He proposed me, therefore, to +General Washington, who accepted me." + +"It seems," said the queen, "that this new country sends us home many +heroes." + +"Your majesty does not mean that for me?" asked Philippe, laughing. + +"Why not?" Then turning to the Comte d'Artois, "See, brother," she said; +"has not M. de Taverney the look of a hero?" + +Philippe, seeing himself thus introduced to the young prince, bowed low. +He returned it, and said, "I am most happy to make the acquaintance of +such a gentleman. What are your intentions in returning to France, sir?" + +"Monseigneur," answered Philippe, "my sister is my first consideration; +whatever she wishes, I shall do." + +"But she has a father, I believe," said the count. + +"Never mind him," said the queen, quickly, "I prefer Andree under her +brother's protection, and he under yours, count. You will take charge of +M. de Taverney, will you not?" + +The count bowed an assent. + +"For, do you know," continued she, "that a very strong link binds me to +M. de Taverney?" + +"What do you mean, sister?" + +"That he was the first Frenchman who presented himself to my eyes when I +arrived in this country; and I had taken a very sincere vow to promote +the happiness of the first Frenchman I should meet." + +Philippe felt the blood rush to his face, and Andree looked at him +rather sadly. + +The queen observed these looks of the brother and sister, and fancied +she divined the cause. "Why," she thought, "should not Monsieur de +Taverney have partaken the epidemic passion which pervaded all France +for the dauphiness in 1774?" Marie Antoinette therefore attributed these +looks to some confidence of this kind which the brother had made to the +sister; and in consequence, she smiled still more upon him, and +redoubled her kindness towards Andree. + +The queen was a true woman, and gloried in being loved. + +It was an innocent coquetry, and the most generous souls have the most +strongly these aspirations for the love of all who surround them. + +Alas! a time is coming for thee, poor queen, when those smiles towards +those who love thee, with which thou hast been reproached, thou shalt +vainly bestow on those that love thee not! + +The Comte d'Artois approached Philippe while the queen was talking to +Andree, and said, "Do you think Washington so very great a general?" + +"Certainly a great man, monseigneur." + +"And what effect did our French produce out there?" + +"As much good as the English did harm." + +"Ah, you are a partisan of the new ideas, my dear M. Philippe de +Taverney; but have you reflected on one thing?" + +"What, monseigneur? I assure you that out there, encamped in the fields, +and in the savannahs on the borders of the great lakes, I had plenty of +time for reflection." + +"On this, that in making war out there, it was neither on the Indians +nor on the English, but on us." + +"Ah, monseigneur, I do not deny that that is possible." + +"Therefore I do not admire so much these victories of M. de la Fayette +and Washington. It is egotism, perhaps, but it is not egotism for myself +alone." + +"Oh, monseigneur!" + +"But do you know why I will still support you with all my power?" + +"Whatever be the reason, I shall be truly grateful." + +"It is, because you are not one of those whose names have been blazoned +forth. You have done your duty bravely, but you have not thrust yourself +forward; you are not known in Paris." + +The young prince then kissed the queen's hand, and bowing to Andree, +left the room. + +Then the queen turned again to Philippe, saying, "Have you seen your +father, sir?" + +"No, madame." + +"Why did you not go to see him first?" + +"I had sent home my valet, and my luggage, but my father sent the +servant back again, with orders to present myself first to you, or the +king." + +"It is a lovely morning," said the queen; "to-morrow the ice will begin +to melt. Madame de Misery, order my sledge and send my chocolate in +here." + +"Will not your majesty take something to eat? You had no supper last +night." + +"You mistake, my good Misery, we had supper. Had we not, Andree?" + +"A very good one, madame." + +"So I will only have my chocolate. Quick, Madame de Misery; this fine +weather tempts me, and the Swiss lake will be full of company." + +"Your majesty is going to skate?" asked Philippe. + +"Ah, you will laugh at us, M. l'Americain; you, who have traversed lakes +where there are more miles than we have feet here." + +"Madame," replied Philippe, "here you amuse yourself with the cold, but +there they die of it." + +"Ah, here is my chocolate; Andree, take a cup with me." + +Andree bowed, coloring with pleasure. + +"You see, M. de Taverney, I am always the same, hating all etiquette, as +in old times. Do you remember those old days? Are you changed since +then, M. Philippe?" + +"No, madame," replied the young man, "I am not changed--at least, not in +heart." + +"Well, I am glad to hear that, for it was a good one. A cup for M. de +Taverney, Madame de Misery." + +"Oh, madame!" cried Philippe, "you cannot mean it; such an honor for a +poor obscure soldier like me." + +"An old friend," said the queen; "this day seems to remind me of my +youth; I seem again happy, free, proud and yet foolish. This day recalls +to me that happy time at my dear Trianon, and all our frolics there, +Andree and I together. This day brings back to my memory my roses, my +strawberries, and my birds, that I was so fond of, all, even to my good +gardeners, whose happy faces often announced to me a new flower or a +delicious fruit; and M. de Jussieu and that original old Rousseau, who +is since dead. But come," continued she, herself pouring the chocolate +into his cup, "you are a soldier, and accustomed to fire, so burn +yourself gloriously with this chocolate, for I am in a hurry." + +She laughed, but Philippe, taking it seriously, drank it off most +heroically. + +The queen saw him, and laughing still more, said, "You are indeed a +perfect hero, M. de Taverney." She then rose, and her woman brought her +bonnet, ermine mantle, and gloves. + +Philippe took his hat under his arm, and followed her and Andree out. + +"M. de Taverney, I do not mean you to leave me," said the queen. "Come +round to my right." + +They went down the great staircase; the drums were beating, the clarions +of the body-guard were playing, and this whole scene, and the enthusiasm +everywhere shown towards that beautiful queen by whose side he was +walking, completed the intoxication of the young man. The change was too +sudden, after so many years of exile and regret, to such great joy and +honor. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE SWISS LAKE. + + +Every one knows this piece of water, which still goes by the same name. +An avenue of linden trees skirts each bank, and these avenues were on +this day thronged with pedestrians, of all ranks and ages, who had come +to enjoy the sight of the sledges and the skating. The toilets of the +ladies presented a brilliant spectacle of luxury and gaiety, their high +coiffures, gay bonnets with the veils half down, fur mantles, and +brilliant silks with deep flounces, were mingled with the orange or blue +coats of the gentlemen. + +Gay lackeys also, in blue and red, passed among the crowd, looking like +poppies and cornflowers blown about by the wind. + +Now and then a cry of admiration burst from the crowd, as St. George, +the celebrated skater, executed some circle so perfect, that a +mathematician could scarcely have found a fault in it. + +While the banks of the lake were thus crowded, the ice itself presented +a scene not less gay, and still more animated: sledges flew about in all +directions. Several dogs, clothed in embroidered velvet, and with plumes +of feathers on their heads, looking like fabulous animals, drew a sledge +in which sat M. de Lauzun, who was wrapped up in a tiger skin. Here you +might see a lady masked, doubtless on account of the cold, in some +sledge of a quieter character, while a handsome skater, in a velvet +riding-coat, hangs over the back, to assist and direct her progress; +whatever they may be saying to each other is quite inaudible, amidst +this busy hum of voices; but who can blame a rendezvous which takes +place in the open air, and under the eyes of all Versailles? and +whatever they may be saying matters to no one else: it is evident that +in the midst of this crowd their life is an isolated one; they think +only of each other. + +All at once a general movement in the crowd announces that they have +recognized the queen, who is approaching the lake. A general cry of +"Vive la reine!" is heard, and all endeavor to approach as nearly as +possible to the place where she has stationed herself. One person alone +does not appear to share this feeling, for on her approach he disappears +with all his suite as fast as possible in the opposite direction. + +"Do you see," said the Comte d'Artois to the queen, whom he had hastened +to join, "how my brother Provence flies from you?" + +"He fears that I should reproach him." + +"Oh, no; it is not that that makes him fly." + +"It is his conscience, then." + +"Not even that, sister." + +"What then?" + +"I will tell you. He had just heard that M. de Suffren, our glorious +commander, will arrive this evening; and as the news is important, he +wishes to leave you in ignorance of it." + +"But is the Minister of Marine ignorant of this arrival?" + +"Ah, mon Dieu, sister, have you not learned enough of ministers, during +the fourteen years you have passed here, as dauphiness and queen, to +know that they are always ignorant of precisely what they ought to know? +However, I have told him about this, and he is deeply grateful." + +"I should think so," said the queen. + +"Yes, and I have need of his gratitude, for I want a loan." + +"Oh," cried the queen, laughing, "how disinterested you are." + +"Sister," said he, "you must want money; I offer you half of what I am +going to receive." + +"Oh no, brother, keep it for yourself; I thank you, but I want nothing +just now." + +"Diable! do not wait too long to claim my promise, because if you do, I +may not be in a condition to fulfil it." + +"In that case I must endeavor to find out some state secret for myself." + +"Sister, you begin to look cold." + +"Well, here is M. de Taverney returning with my sledge." + +"Then you do not want me any longer?" + +"No." + +"Then send me away, I beg." + +"Why? do you imagine you will be in my way?" + +"No; it is I who want my liberty." + +"Adieu, then." + +"Au revoir, dear sister." + +"Till when?" + +"Till this evening." + +"Is there anything to take place to-night, then?" + +"Yes; this evening the minister will bring M. de Suffren to the jeu du +roi." + +"Very well, then, till this evening." + +And the young prince, bowing with his habitual elegance, disappeared +among the crowd. + +Old Taverney, who was one of the nearest spectators of all this, had +been watching his son eagerly, and felt almost chagrined at this +conversation between the queen and her brother-in-law, as it interrupted +the familiar intercourse which his son had before been enjoying; +therefore, when the young man returned with the queen's sledge, and, +seeing his father, whom he had not met for ten years, advanced towards +him, he motioned him away, saying, "We will talk afterwards, when you +have left the queen." + +Philippe, therefore, returned to the queen, who was getting into the +sledge with Andree. Two attendants approached to push it, but she said, +"No; I do not wish to go like that; you skate, M. de Taverney? Does he +not, Andree?" + +"Philippe used to skate remarkably well," replied she. + +"And now I dare say he rivals St. George," said the queen. + +"I will do my best to justify your majesty's opinion," said he; and +putting on his skates, he placed himself behind her sledge, and they +commenced their course. + +St. George, seeing the queen on the ice, began to execute his most +skilful maneuvers, and finished off by going in circles round her +sledge, making the most elegant bows each time he passed her. + +Then Philippe, moved to emulation, began to push along the sledge with +such wonderful rapidity that St. George found no little difficulty in +keeping pace with it. + +Several people, however, seeing the queen move at this marvelous rate, +uttered cries of terror. + +"If your majesty desires," said Philippe, "I will stop, or go slower." + +"Oh no!" said she, with that enthusiasm which she carried into +everything; "oh no! I am not at all afraid; quicker still, chevalier, if +you can." + +"Oh yes, madame, and you are quite safe; you may trust to me;" and his +vigorous arm propelled them at a still increased pace. He emulated the +circles of St. George, and flew round as fast with the sledge as could +even that experienced skater without it. + +Then, leaving these evolutions, he pushed the sledge straight before +him, and with such force that he himself remained behind. + +St. George, seeing this, made a tremendous effort to gain the sledge +before him, but was distanced by Philippe, who once more seized it, +turned it, and flew in a new direction. + +The air now rang with such acclamations, that Philippe began to feel +ashamed. + +Then the queen, who had joined the applause with her hands, turned round +and said to him, "And now, M. de Taverney, that you have gained the +victory, stop, I beg, or you will kill me." + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +THE TEMPTER. + + +Philippe, at this request of the queen, made a strong effort, and +stopped the sledge abruptly. + +"And now, rest yourself," said she, coming out of it all trembling. +"Indeed, I never could have believed the delight of going so fast, but +you have made me quite tremble;" and she took Philippe's arm to support +herself, until a general murmur reminded her that she was once more +committing a breach of etiquette. + +As for Philippe, overwhelmed by this great honor, he felt more ashamed +than if his sovereign had insulted him publicly; he lowered his eyes, +and his heart beat as though it would burst. + +The queen, however, withdrew her arm almost immediately, and asked for a +seat. They brought her one. + +"Thanks, M. de Taverney," said she; then, in a lower tone, "Mon Dieu, +how disagreeable it is to be always surrounded by spying fools!" + +A number of ladies and gentlemen soon crowded round her, and all looked +with no little curiosity at Philippe, who, to hide his confusion, +stooped to take off his skates, and then fell into the background. + +After a short time, however, the queen said, "I shall take cold if I sit +here, I must take another turn;" and she remounted her sledge. + +Philippe waited, but in vain, for another order. + +Twenty gentlemen soon presented themselves, but she said, "No, I thank +you, I have my attendants;" and she moved slowly off, while Philippe +remained alone. + +He looked about for St. George, to console him for his defeat by some +compliment, but he had received a message from his patron, the duke +d'Orleans, and had left the place. + +Philippe, therefore, rather tired, and half frightened at all that had +passed, remained stationary, following with his eyes the queen's sledge, +which was now at some distance, when he felt some one touch him; he +turned round and saw his father. + +The little old man, more shrunk than ever, enveloped in furs like a +Laplander, had touched his son with his elbow, that he might not be +obliged to take his hands out of the muff that hung from his neck. + +"You do not embrace me, my son," said he. + +"My dear father, I do it with all my heart." + +"And now," said the old man, "go quickly;" and he pushed him away. + +"Where do you wish me to go, sir?" + +"Why, morbleu, over there." + +"Where?" + +"To the queen." + +"No, I thank you, father." + +"How? No, I thank you! are you mad? You will not go after the queen?" + +"My dear father, it is impossible!" + +"Impossible to join the queen, who is expecting you?" + +"Who is expecting me!" + +"Yes, who wishes for you." + +"Wishes for me? Indeed, father," added he, coldly, "I think you forget +yourself." + +"It is astonishing!" said the old man, stamping his foot. "Where on +earth do you spring from?" + +"Monsieur," said his son, sadly, "you will make me conclude one of two +things." + +"What?" + +"Either that you are laughing at me, or else, excuse me, that you are +losing your senses." + +The old man seized his son by the arm so energetically that he made him +start. "Listen, M. Philippe," said he; "America is, I know, a country a +long way from this, and where there is neither king nor queen." + +"Nor subjects." + +"Nor subjects, M. Philosopher; I do not deny it; that point does not +interest me; but what does so is that I fear also to have to come to a +conclusion----" + +"What, father?" + +"That you are a simpleton, my son; just trouble yourself to look over +there." + +"Well, sir!" + +"Well, the queen looks back, and it is the third time she has done so; +there! she turns again, and who do you think she is looking for but for +you, M. Puritan?" + +"Well, sir," said the young man; "if it were true, which it probably is +not, that the queen was looking for----" + +"Oh!" interrupted the old man, angrily, "this fellow is not of my blood; +he cannot be a Taverney. Sir, I repeat to you that the queen is looking +for you." + +"You have good sight, sir," said his son, dryly. + +"Come," said the old man, more gently, and trying to moderate his +impatience, "trust my experience: are you, or are you not, a man?" + +Philippe made no reply. + +His father ground his teeth with anger, to see himself opposed by this +steadfast will; but making one more effort, "Philippe, my son," said he, +still more gently, "listen to me." + +"It seems to me, sir, that I have been doing nothing else for the last +quarter of an hour." + +"Oh," thought the old man, "I will draw you down from your stilts. I +will find out your weak side." Then aloud, "You have overlooked one +thing, Philippe." + +"What, sir?" + +"When you left for America, there was a king, but no queen, if it were +not the Dubarry; hardly a respectable sovereign. You come back and see a +queen, and you think you must be very respectful." + +"Doubtless." + +"Poor child!" said his father, laughing. + +"How, sir? You blame me for respecting the monarchy--you, a Taverney +Maison-Rouge, one of the best names in France." + +"I do not speak of the monarchy, but only of the queen." + +"And you make a difference?" + +"Pardieu, I should think so. What is royalty? a crown that is +unapproachable. But what is a queen? a woman, and she, on the contrary, +is very approachable." + +Philippe made a gesture of disgust. + +"You do not believe me," continued the old man, almost fiercely; "well, +ask M. de Coigny, ask M. de Lauzun, or M. de Vaudreuil." + +"Silence, father!" cried Philippe; "or for these three blasphemies, not +being able to strike you three blows with my sword, I shall strike them +on myself." + +The old man stepped back, murmuring, "Mon Dieu, what a stupid animal! +Good evening, son; you rejoice me; I thought I was the father, the old +man, but now I think it is I who must be the young Apollo, and you the +old man;" and he turned away. + +Philippe stopped him: "You did not speak seriously, did you, father? It +is impossible that a gentleman of good blood like you should give ear to +these calumnies, spread by the enemies, not only of the queen, but of +the throne." + +"He will not believe, the double mule!" said the old man. + +"You speak to me as you would speak before God?" + +"Yes, truly." + +"Before God, whom you approach every day?" + +"It seems to me, my son," replied he, "that I am a gentleman, and that +you may believe my word." + +"It is, then, your opinion that the queen has had lovers?" + +"Certainly." + +"Those whom you have named?" + +"And others, for what I know. Ask all the town and the court. One must +be just returned from America to be ignorant of all they say." + +"And who say this, sir? some vile pamphleteers!" + +"Oh! do you, then, take me for an editor?" + +"No, and there is the mischief, when men like you repeat such calumnies, +which, without that, would melt away like the unwholesome vapors which +sometimes obscure the most brilliant sunshine; but people like you, +repeating them, give them a terrible stability. Oh! monsieur, for +mercy's sake do not repeat such things." + +"I do repeat them, however." + +"And why do you repeat them?" cried Philippe, fiercely. + +"Oh!" said the old man with his satanic laugh, "to prove to you that I +was not wrong when I said, 'Philippe, the queen looks back; she is +looking for you. Philippe, the queen wishes for you; run to her.'" + +"Oh! father, hold your tongue, or you will drive me mad." + +"Really, Philippe, I do not understand you. Is it a crime to love? It +shows that one has a heart; and in the eyes of this woman, in her voice, +in everything, can you not read her heart? She loves; is it you? or is +it another? I know not, but believe in my own experience: at this moment +she loves, or is beginning to love, some one. But you are a philosopher, +a Puritan, a Quaker, an American; you do not love; well, then, let her +look; let her turn again and again; despise her, Philippe, I should say +Joseph de Taverney." + +The old man hurried away, satisfied with the effect he had produced, and +fled like the serpent who was the first tempter into crime. + +Philippe remained alone, his heart swelling and his blood boiling. He +remained fixed in his place for about half an hour, when the queen, +having finished her tour, returned to where he stood, and called out to +him: + +"You must be rested now, M. de Taverney; come, then, for there is no one +like you to guide a queen royally." + +Philippe ran to her, giddy, and hardly knowing what he did. He placed +his hand on the back of the sledge, but started as though he had burned +his fingers; the queen had thrown herself negligently back in the +sledge, and the fingers of the young man touched the locks of Marie +Antoinette. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +M. DE SUFFREN. + + +Contrary to the usual habits of a court, the secret had been faithfully +confined to Louis XVI. and the Comte d'Artois. No one knew at what time +or hour M. de Suffren would arrive. + +The king had announced his jeu du roi for the evening; and at seven +o'clock he entered, with ten princes and princesses of his family. The +queen came holding the princess royal, now about seven years old, by the +hand. The assembly was numerous and brilliant. The Comte d'Artois +approached the queen, and said, "Look around you, madame." + +"Well?" + +"What do you see?" + +The queen looked all around, and then said, "I see nothing but happy and +friendly faces." + +"Rather, then, whom do you not see?" + +"Oh! I understand; I wonder if he is always going to run away from me." + +"Oh no! only this is a good joke; M. de Provence has gone to wait at the +barrier for M. de Suffren." + +"Well, I do not see why you laugh at that; he has been the most cunning, +after all, and will be the first to receive and pay his compliments to +this gentleman." + +"Come, dear sister," replied the young prince, laughing, "you have a +very mean opinion of our diplomacy. M. de Provence has gone to meet him +at Fontainebleau; but we have sent some one to meet him at Villejuif, so +that my brother will wait by himself at Fontainebleau, while our +messenger will conduct M. de Suffren straight to Versailles, without +passing through Paris at all." + +"That is excellently imagined." + +"It is not bad, I flatter myself; but it is your turn to play." + +The king had noticed that M. d'Artois was making the queen laugh, and +guessing what it was about, gave them a significant glance, to show that +he shared their amusement. + +The saloon where they played was full of persons of the highest rank--M. +de Conde, M. de Penthievre, M. de Tremouille, etc. The news of the +arrival of M. de Suffren had, as we have said, been kept quiet, but +there had been a kind of vague rumor that some one was expected, and all +were somewhat preoccupied and watchful. Even the king, who was in the +habit of playing six-franc pieces in order to moderate the play of the +court, played gold without thinking of it. + +The queen, however, to all appearances entered, as usual, eagerly into +the game. + +Philippe, who, with his sister, was admitted to the party, in vain +endeavored to shake from his mind his father's words. He asked himself +if indeed this old man, who had seen so much of courts, was not right; +and if his own ideas were indeed those of a Puritan, and belonging to +another land. This queen, so charming, so beautiful, and so friendly +towards him, was she indeed only a terrible coquette, anxious to add one +lover more to her list, as the entomologist transfixes a new insect or +butterfly, without thinking of the tortures of the poor creature whose +heart he is piercing? "Coigny, Vaudreuil," repeated he to himself, "they +loved the queen, and were loved by her. Oh, why does this calumny haunt +me so, or why will not some ray of light discover to me the heart of +this woman?" + +Then Philippe turned his eyes to the other end of the table, where, by a +strange chance, these gentlemen were sitting side by side, and both +seemingly equally forgetful of, and insensible to, the queen; and he +thought that it was impossible that these men could have loved and be so +calm, or that they could have been loved and seem so forgetful. From +them he turned to look at Marie Antoinette herself and interrogated +that pure forehead, that haughty mouth, and beautiful face; and the +answer they all seemed to give him was: calumnies, all calumnies, these +rumors, originating only in the hates and jealousies of a court. + +While he was coming to these conclusions the clock struck a quarter to +eight, and at that moment a great noise of footsteps and the sound of +many voices were heard on the staircase. The king, hearing it, signed to +the queen, and they both rose and broke up the game. She then passed +into the great reception-hall, and the king followed her. + +An aide-de-camp of M. de Castries, Minister of Marine, approached the +king and said something in a low tone, when M. de Castries himself +entered, and said aloud, "Will your majesty receive M. de Suffren, who +has arrived from Toulon?" + +At this name a general movement took place in the assembly. + +"Yes, sir," said the king, "with great pleasure;" and M. de Castries +left the room. + +To explain this interest for M. de Suffren, and why king, queen, +princes, and ministers contended who should be the first to receive him, +a few words will suffice. + +Suffren is a name essentially French, like Turenne or Jean Bart. Since +the last war with England, M. de Suffren had fought seven great naval +battles without sustaining a defeat. He had taken Trincomalee and +Gondeleur, scoured the seas, and taught the Nabob Hyder Ali that France +was the first Power in Europe. He had carried into his profession all +the skill of an able diplomatist, all the bravery and all the tactics of +a soldier, and all the prudence of a wise ruler. Hardy, indefatigable, +and proud when the honor of the French nation was in question, he had +harassed the English, by land and by sea, till even these fierce +islanders were afraid of him. + +But after the battle, in which he risked his life like the meanest +sailor, he ever showed himself humane, generous, and compassionate. He +was now about fifty-six years of age, stout and short, but with an eye +of fire and a noble carriage, and, like a man accustomed to surmount all +difficulties, he had dressed in his traveling-carriage. + +He wore a blue coat embroidered with gold, a red waistcoat, and blue +trousers. + +All the guards through whom he had passed, when he was named to them by +M. de Castries, had saluted him as they would have done a king. + +"M. de Suffren," said the king when he entered, "welcome to Versailles; +you bring glory with you." + +M. de Suffren bent his knee to the king, who, however, raised him and +embraced him cordially; then, turning to the queen, "Madame," said he, +"here is M. de Suffren, the victor of Trincomalee and Gondeleur, and the +terror of the English." + +"Monsieur," said the queen, "I wish you to know that you have not fired +a shot for the glory of France but my heart has beaten with admiration +and gratitude." + +When she ceased, the Comte d'Artois approached with his son, the Duc +d'Angouleme. + +"My son," said he, "you see a hero; look at him well, for it is a rare +sight." + +"Monseigneur," replied the young prince, "I have read about the great +men in Plutarch, but I could not see them; I thank you for showing me M. +de Suffren." + +The king now took the arm of M. de Suffren, in order to lead him to his +study, and talk to him of his travels; but he made a respectful +resistance. + +"Sire," said he, "will your majesty permit me----" + +"Oh! whatever you wish, sir." + +"Then, sire, one of my officers has committed so grave a fault against +discipline, that I thought your majesty ought to be sole judge of the +offense." + +"Oh, M. de Suffren, I had hoped your first request would have been a +favor, and not a punishment." + +"Your majesty, as I have had the honor to say, shall judge what ought to +be done. In the last battle the officer of whom I speak was on board _La +Severe_." + +"Oh, the ship that struck her flag!" cried the king, frowning. + +"Yes, sire. The captain of _La Severe_ had indeed struck his flag, and +already Sir Hugh, the English admiral, had despatched a boat to take +possession of his prize, when the lieutenant in command of the guns of +the middle deck, perceiving that the firing above had ceased, and having +received orders to stop his own fire, went on deck, saw the flag +lowered, and the captain ready to surrender. At this sight, sir, all his +French blood revolted, he took the flag which lay there, and, seizing a +hammer, ordered the men to recommence the fire, while he nailed it to +the mast. It was by this action, sire, that _La Severe_ was preserved to +your majesty." + +"A splendid action!" cried the king and queen simultaneously. + +"Yes, sire--yes, madame, but a grave fault against discipline. The order +had been given by the captain, and the lieutenant ought to have obeyed. +I, however, ask for the pardon of the officer, and the more so as he is +my own nephew." + +"Your nephew!" cried the king; "and you have never mentioned him!" + +"Not to you, sire; but I made my report to the ministers, begging them +to say nothing about it until I had obtained his pardon from your +majesty." + +"It is granted," said the king. "I promise beforehand my protection to +all who may violate discipline in such a cause. You must present this +officer to me, M. de Suffren." + +M. de Suffren turned. "Approach, M. de Charny," he said. + +The queen started at the sound of this name, which she had so recently +heard. A young officer advanced from the crowd, and presented himself +before the king. + +The queen and Andree looked anxiously at each other; but M. de Charny +bowed before the king almost without raising his eyes, and, after +kissing his hand, retired again, without seeming to have observed the +queen. + +"Come now, M. de Suffren," said the king, "and let us converse; I am +impatient to hear all your adventures." But before leaving the room he +turned to the queen and said. "Apropos, madame, I am going to have +built, as you know, a ship of one hundred guns, and I think of changing +the name we had destined for it, and of calling it instead----" + +"Oh yes!" cried Marie Antoinette, catching his thought, "we will call it +_Le Suffren_, and I will still stand sponsor." + +"Vive le roi! vive la reine!" cried all. + +"And vive M. de Suffren!" added the king, and then left the room with +him. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +M. DE CHARNY. + + +M. de Suffren had requested his nephew to wait his return, and he +therefore remained in the group as before. + +The queen, speaking low to Andree, and glancing towards him, said: "It +is he, there is no doubt." + +"Mon Dieu! yes, madame, it is he indeed." + +At this moment the door opened, and a gentleman dressed in the robes of +a cardinal, and followed by a long train of officers and prelates, +entered the room. + +The queen immediately recognized M. de Rohan, and turned away her head, +without taking the trouble to hide the frown which overspread her face. + +He crossed the room without stopping to speak to any one, and, coming +straight up to her, bowed to her more as a man of the world bows to a +lady than as a subject to a queen, and then addressed some rather +high-flown compliments to her; but she scarcely looked at him, and, +after murmuring a few cold words in reply, began to talk to Madame de +Lamballe. + +The cardinal did not seem to notice this chilling reception, but bowed +again, and retired without appearing in the least disconcerted. + +He then turned to the king's aunts, from whom he met with a reception as +cordial as the queen's had been the reverse. The Cardinal Louis de Rohan +was a man in the prime of life, and of an imposing figure and noble +bearing; his eyes shone with intelligence, his mouth was well cut and +handsome, and his hands were beautiful. A premature baldness indicated +either a man of pleasure or a studious one--and he was both. He was a +man no little sought after by the ladies, and was noted for his +magnificent style of living; indeed, he had found the way to feel +himself poor with an income of 1,600,000 francs. + +The king liked him for his learning, but the queen hated him. The +reasons for this hate were twofold: first, when ambassador to Vienna, he +had written to Louis XV. letters so full of sarcasm on Maria Theresa, +that her daughter had never forgiven him; and he had also written +letters opposing her marriage, which had been read aloud by Louis XV. at +a supper at Madame Dubarry's. The embassy at Vienna had been taken from +M. de Breteuil and given to M. de Rohan; the former gentleman, not +strong enough to revenge himself alone, had procured copies of these +letters, which he had laid before the dauphiness, thus making her the +eternal enemy of M. de Rohan. + +This hatred rendered the cardinal's position at court not a little +uncomfortable. Every time he presented himself before the queen, he met +with the same discouraging reception. In spite of this, he neglected no +occasion of being near her, for which he had frequent opportunities, as +he was chaplain to the court; and he never complained of the treatment +he received. A circle of friends, among whom the Baron de Planta was the +most intimate, helped to console him for these royal rebuffs; not to +speak of the ladies of the court, who by no means imitated the severity +of the queen towards him. + +When he was gone, Marie Antoinette recovered her serenity, and said to +Madame de Lamballe: + +"Do you not think that this action of the nephew of M. de Suffren is one +of the most remarkable of the war? What is his name, by the bye?" + +"M. de Charny, I believe," replied the princess. "Was it not?" she said, +turning to Andree. + +"Yes, your highness." + +"M. de Charny shall describe it to us himself," said the queen. "Is he +still here? Let him be sought for." + +An officer who stood near hastened to obey her, and immediately returned +with M. de Charny, and the circle round the queen made way for him to +approach. + +He was a young man, about eight-and-twenty, tall and well made; his +face, animated and yet sweet, took a character of singular energy when +he spoke, and dilated his large blue eyes; and he was, strange to say, +for one who had been fighting in India, as fair as Philippe was dark. + +When he had approached the place where the queen sat, with Madlle. de +Taverney standing near her, he did not betray his surprise in any way, +although it must have been great, in recognizing the ladies of the +evening before. He did not look up until she addressed him, saying: + +"M. de Charny, these ladies experience the natural desire, which I share +with them, to hear from yourself all the details of this action of your +ship." + +"Madame," replied the young officer, "I beg your majesty to spare me the +recital, not from modesty, but from humanity. What I did as lieutenant, +a dozen other officers doubtless wished to do, only I was the first to +put it in execution; and it is not worthy being made the subject of a +narration to your majesty. Besides, the captain of _La Severe_ is a +brave officer, who on that day lost his presence of mind. Alas, madame, +we all know that the most courageous are not always equally brave. He +wanted but ten minutes to recover himself; my determination not to +surrender gave him the breathing time, his natural courage returned to +him, and he showed himself the bravest of us all. Therefore I beg your +majesty not to exaggerate the merit of my action, and thereby crush this +deserving officer, who deplores incessantly the failing of a few +moments." + +"Right!" said the queen, touched by these generous words; "you are a +true gentleman, M. de Charny, and such I already know you to be." + +The young man colored crimson, and looked almost frightened at Andree, +fearing what the queen's rash generosity might lead her to say. + +"For," continued the intrepid queen, "I must tell you all, that this is +not the first time I have heard of M. de Charny, who deserves to be +known and admired by all ladies; and to show you that he is as indulgent +to our sex as he is merciless to his enemies, I will relate a little +history of him which does him the greatest honor." + +"Oh, madame!" stammered the young man, who felt as if he would have +given a year of his life to be back in the West Indies. + +"This, then, is it," continued the queen, to her eager listeners: "two +ladies, whom I know, were detained out late and became embarrassed in a +crowd; they ran a great risk, a real danger awaited them; M. de Charny +happily passed by at the moment: he dispersed the crowd, and, although +they were unknown to him, and it was impossible to recognize their rank, +took them under his protection, and escorted them a long way, ten miles +from Paris, I believe." + +"Oh! your majesty exaggerates," said M. de Charny, laughing, and now +quite reassured. + +"Well, we will call it five," said the Count d'Artois, suddenly joining +in the conversation. + +"Let it be five, then, brother," said the queen; "but the most admirable +part of the story is, that M. de Charny did not seek even to know the +names of these ladies whom he had served, but left them at the place +where they wished to stop, and went away without even looking back, so +that they escaped from his protection without even a moment's +disquietude." + +All expressed their admiration. + +"A knight of the round table could not have acted better," her majesty +went on; "and so, M. de Charny, as the king will doubtless take upon +himself to reward M. de Suffren, I, for my part, wish to do something +for the nephew of this great man." + +As she spoke, she held out her hand to him, and Charny, pale with joy, +pressed his lips to this beautiful hand, while Philippe looked on from +an obscure corner, pale with an opposite emotion. + +The voice of M. d'Artois interrupted this scene, saying loudly, "Ah, +Provence! you come too late! you have missed a fine sight, the reception +of M. de Suffren. Really, it was one that a Frenchman can never forget. +How the devil did it happen that you were not here--you who are +generally the punctual man par excellence?" + +M. de Provence bit his lips with vexation, and whispered to M. de +Favras, his captain of the guards, "How does it come to pass that he is +here?" + +"Ah! monseigneur, I have been asking myself that question for the last +hour, and have not yet found an answer." + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +THE ONE HUNDRED LOUIS OF THE QUEEN. + + +Now we have introduced the principal characters of this history to our +readers, and have taken them both into the "petite maison" of the Comte +d'Artois and into the king's palace at Versailles, we will return to +that house in the Rue St. Claude where we saw the queen enter incognito +with Mademoiselle Andree de Taverney. + +We left Madame de la Motte counting over and delighted with her fifty +double louis; next to the pleasure of having them, she knew no greater +than that of displaying them, and having no one else, she called Dame +Clotilde, who was still in the ante-chamber. + +When she entered, "Come and look here!" said her mistress. + +"Oh, madame!" cried the old woman, clasping her hands in astonishment. + +"You were uneasy about your wages," said the countess. + +"Oh, madame! I never said that; I only asked madame if she could pay me, +as I had received nothing for three months." + +"Do you think there is enough there to pay you?" + +"Oh! madame, if I had all that, I should be rich for the rest of my +life. But in what will madame spend all that?" + +"In everything." + +"The first thing, I think, madame, will be to furnish the kitchen, for +you will have good dinners cooked now." + +"Listen!" said Madame de la Motte; "someone knocks." + +"I did not hear it," said the old woman. + +"But I tell you that I did; so go at once." She hastily gathered up her +money, and put it into a drawer, murmuring, "Oh! if Providence will but +send me another such a visitor." Then she heard the steps of a man +below, but could not distinguish what he said. Soon however, the door +opened, and Clotilde came in with a letter. + +The countess examined it attentively, and asked, "Was this brought by a +servant?" + +"Yes, madame." + +"In livery?" + +"No, madame." + +"I know these arms, surely," said Jeanne to herself. "Who can it be +from? but the letter will soon show for itself;" and opening it, she +read: "Madame, the person to whom you wrote will see you to-morrow +evening, if it be agreeable to you to remain at home for that purpose;" +and that was all. "I have written to so many people," thought the +countess. "Is this a man or a woman? The writing is no guide, nor is the +style; it might come from either. Who is it that uses these arms? Oh! I +remember now--the arms of the Rohans. Yes, I wrote to M. de Guemenee, +and to M. de Rohan; it is one of them: but the shield is not +quartered--it is therefore the cardinal. Ah! Monsieur de Rohan, the man +of gallantry, the fine gentleman, and the ambitious one; he will come to +see Jeanne de la Motte, if it be agreeable to her. Oh, yes! M. de Rohan, +it is very agreeable. A charitable lady who gives a hundred louis may be +received in a garret, freeze in my cold room, and suffer on my hard +chair; but a clerical prince, a lady's man, that is quite another thing. +We must have luxury to greet him." + +Then, turning to Clotilde, who was getting her bed ready, she said: "Be +sure to call me early to-morrow morning;" and when she did retire to +rest, so absorbed was she in her expectations and plans, that it was +nearly three o'clock before she fell asleep; nevertheless, she was quite +ready when Dame Clotilde called her according to her directions early in +the morning, and had finished her toilet by eight o'clock, although this +day it consisted of an elegant silk dress, and her hair was elaborately +dressed. + +She sent Clotilde for a coach, and ordered the man to drive to the Place +Royale, where, under one of the arcades, was the shop of M. Fingret, an +upholsterer and decorator, and who had furniture always ready for sale +or hire. + +She entered his immense show-rooms, of which the walls were hung with +different tapestries, and the ceiling completely hidden by the number of +chandeliers and lamps that hung from it. On the ground were furniture, +carpets, and cornices of every fashion and description. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +M. FINGRET. + + +Madame de la Motte, looking at all this, began to perceive how much she +wanted. She wanted a drawing-room to hold sofas and lounging-chairs; a +dining-room for tables and sideboards; and a boudoir for Persian +curtains, screens, and knick-knacks; above all, she wanted the money to +buy all these things. But in Paris, whatever you cannot afford to buy, +you can hire; and Madame de la Motte set her heart on a set of furniture +covered in yellow silk, with gilt nails, which she thought would be very +becoming to her dark complexion. But this furniture she felt sure would +never go into her rooms on the fifth story; it would be necessary to +hire the third, which was composed of an ante-chamber, a dining-room, +small drawing-room, and bedroom, so that she might, she thought, receive +on this third story the visits of the cardinal, and on the fifth those +of ladies of charity--that is to say, receive in luxury those who give +from ostentation, and in poverty those who only desire to give when it +is needed. + +The countess, having made all these reflections, turned to where M. +Fingret himself stood, with his hat in his hand, waiting for her +commands. + +"Madame?" said he in a tone of interrogation, advancing towards her. + +"Madame la Comtesse de la Motte Valois," said Jeanne. + +At this high-sounding name M. Fingret bowed low, and said: "But there is +nothing in this room worthy Madame la Comtesse's inspection. If madame +will take the trouble to step into the next one, she will see what is +new and beautiful." + +Jeanne colored. All this had seemed so splendid to her, too splendid +even to hope to possess it; and this high opinion of M. Fingret's +concerning her perplexed her not a little. She regretted that she had +not announced herself as a simple bourgeoise; but it was necessary to +speak, so she said, "I do not wish for new furniture." + +"Madame has doubtless some friend's apartments to furnish?" + +"Just so," she replied. + +"Will madame, then, choose?" said M. Fingret, who did not care whether +he sold new or old, as he gained equally by both. + +"This set," said Jeanne, pointing to the yellow silk one. + +"That is such a small set, madame." + +"Oh, the rooms are small." + +"It is nearly new, as madame may see." + +"But the price?" + +"Eight hundred francs." + +The price made the countess tremble; and how was she to confess that a +countess was content with second-hand things, and then could not afford +to pay eight hundred francs for them? She therefore thought the best +thing was to appear angry, and said: "Who thinks of buying, sir? Who do +you think would buy such old things? I only want to hire." + +Fingret made a grimace; his customer began gradually to lose her value +in his eyes. She did not want to buy new things, only to hire old ones, +"You wish it for a year?" he asked. + +"No, only for a month. It is for some one coming from the country." + +"It will be one hundred francs a month." + +"You jest, surely, monsieur; why, in eight months I should have paid the +full price of it." + +"Granted, Madame la Comtesse." + +"Well, is not that too bad?" + +"I shall have the expense of doing it up again when you return it." + +Madame de la Motte reflected. "One hundred francs a month is very dear, +certainly; but either I can return it at the end of that time and say it +is too dear, or I shall then perhaps be in a situation to buy." + +"I will take it," she said, "with curtains to match." + +"Yes, madame." + +"And carpets." + +"Here they are." + +"What can you give me for another room?" + +"These oak chairs, this table with twisted legs, and green damask +curtains." + +"And for a bedroom?" + +"A large and handsome bed, a counterpane of velvet embroidered in +rose-color and silver, an excellent couch, and blue curtains." + +"And for my dressing-room?" + +"A toilet-table hung with Mechlin lace; chest of drawers with +marqueterie; sofa and chairs of tapestry. The whole came from the +bedroom of Madame de Pompadour at Choisy." + +"All this for what price?" + +"For a month?" + +"Yes." + +"Four hundred francs." + +"Come, Monsieur Fingret, do not take me for a grisette who is dazzled by +your fine descriptions. Please to reflect that you are asking at the +rate of four thousand eight hundred francs a year, and for that I can +take a whole furnished house. You disgust me with the Place Royale." + +"I am very sorry, madame." + +"Prove it, then; I will only give half that price." Jeanne pronounced +these words with so much authority that the merchant began again to +think she might be worth conciliating. + +"So be it, then, madame." + +"And on one condition, M. Fingret." + +"What, madame?" + +"That everything be arranged in its proper place by three o'clock." + +"But consider, madame, it is now ten." + +"Can you do it or not?" + +"Where must they go to?" + +"Rue St. Claude." + +"Close by?" + +"Precisely." + +The upholsterer opened a door, and called, "Sylvain! Landry! Remy!" + +Three men answered to the call. + +"The carts and the trucks instantly. Remy, you shall take this yellow +furniture; Sylvain, you take that for the dining-room; and you, Landry, +that for the bedroom. Here is the bill, madame; shall I receipt it?" + +"Here are six double louis," she said, "and you can give the change to +these men if the order is completed in time;" and, having given her +address, she reentered her coach. + +On her return she engaged the third floor, and in a few hours all was in +order. + +The lodgings thus transformed, the windows cleaned, and the fires +lighted, Jeanne went again to her toilet, which she made as recherche as +possible, and then took a last look at all the delights around her. +Nothing had been forgotten: there were gilded branches from the walls +for wax-lights, and glass lusters on each side of the mirror; Jeanne had +also added flowers, to complete the embellishment of the paradise in +which she intended to receive his eminence. She took care even to leave +the door of the bedroom a little open, through which the light of a +bright fire gave a glimpse of the luxuries within. + +All these preparations completed, she seated herself in a chair by the +fire, with a book in her hand, listening eagerly to the sound of every +carriage that passed; but nine, ten, and eleven o'clock struck, and no +one came. Still she did not despair; it was not too late for a gallant +prelate, who had probably been first to some supper, and would come to +her from there. But at last twelve struck; no one appeared, the lights +were burning low, and the old servant, after many lamentations over her +new cap, had fallen asleep in her chair. + +At half-past twelve Jeanne rose furious from her chair, looked out of +window for the hundredth time, and, seeing no one near, undressed +herself and went to bed, refusing supper, or to answer any of the +remarks made to her by Clotilde; and on her sumptuous bed, under her +beautiful curtains, she experienced no better rest than she had on the +previous night. At last, however, her anger began a little to abate, and +she commenced framing excuses for the cardinal. He had so much to occupy +him, he must have been detained, and, most potent of all, he had not +yet seen her. She would not have been so easily consoled if he had +broken the promise of a second visit. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +THE CARDINAL DE ROHAN. + + +The next evening Jeanne, not discouraged, renewed all her preparations +of the night before; and on this occasion she had no time to grow +impatient, for at seven o'clock a carriage drove up to the door, from +which a gentleman got out. At the sound of the door-bell Jeanne's heart +beat so loud that you might almost have heard it; however, she composed +herself as well as she could, and in a few minutes Clotilde opened the +door, and announced the person who had written the day before yesterday. + +"Let him come in," said Jeanne; and a gentleman dressed in silk and +velvet, and with a lofty carriage, entered the room. + +Jeanne made a step forward, and said: "To whom have I the honor of +speaking?" + +"I am the Cardinal de Rohan," he replied; at which Madame de la Motte, +feigning to be overwhelmed with the honor, courtesied, as though he were +a king. Then she advanced an armchair for him, and placed herself in +another. + +The cardinal laid his hat on the table, and, looking at Jeanne, began: +"It is, then, true, mademoiselle----" + +"Madame," interrupted Jeanne. + +"Pardon me; I forgot." + +"My husband is called De la Motte, monseigneur." + +"Oh, yes; a gendarme, is he not?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"And you, madame, are a Valois?" + +"I am, monseigneur." + +"A great name," said the cardinal, "but rare--believed extinct." + +"Not extinct, sir, since I bear it, and as I have a brother, Baron de +Valois." + +"Recognized?" + +"That has nothing to do with it. Recognized or unrecognized, rich or +poor, he is still Baron de Valois." + +"Madame, explain to me this descent; it interests me; I love heraldry." + +Jeanne repeated all that the reader already knows. + +The cardinal listened and looked. He did not believe either her story or +her merit; but she was poor and pretty. + +"So that," he said carelessly, when she had finished, "you have really +been unfortunate." + +"I do not complain, monseigneur." + +"Indeed, I had heard a most exaggerated account of the difficulties of +your position; this lodging is commodious and well furnished." + +"For a grisette, no doubt," replied Jeanne. + +"What! do you call these rooms fit for a grisette?" + +"I do not think you can call them fit for a princess," replied Jeanne. + +"And you are a princess?" said he, in an ironical tone. + +"I was born a Valois, monseigneur, as you were a Rohan," said Jeanne, +with so much dignity that he felt a little touched by it. + +"Madame," said he, "I forgot that my first words should have been an +apology. I wrote to you that I would come yesterday, but I had to go to +Versailles to assist at the reception of M. de Suffren." + +"Monseigneur does me too much honor in remembering me to-day; and my +husband will more than ever regret the exile to which poverty compels +him, since it prevents him from sharing this favor with me." + +"You live alone, madame?" asked the cardinal. + +"Absolutely alone. I should be out of place in all society but that from +which my poverty debars me." + +"The genealogists do not contest your claim?" + +"No; but what good does it do me?" + +"Madame," continued the cardinal, "I shall be glad to know in what I can +serve you." + +"In nothing, monseigneur," she said. + +"How! in nothing? Pray be frank." + +"I cannot be more frank than I am." + +"You were complaining just now." + +"Certainly, I complain." + +"Well, then?" + +"Well, then, monseigneur, I see that you wish to bestow charity on me." + +"Oh, madame!" + +"Yes, sir, I have taken charity, but I will do so no more. I have borne +great humiliation." + +"Madame, you are wrong, there is no humiliation in misfortune." + +"Not even with the name I bear? Would you beg, M. de Rohan?" + +"I do not speak of myself," said he, with an embarrassment mingled with +hauteur. + +"Monseigneur, I only know two ways of begging: in a carriage, or at a +church door in velvet or in rags. Well, just now, I did not expect the +honor of this visit; I thought you had forgotten me." + +"Oh, you knew, then, that it was I who wrote?" + +"Were not your arms on the seal?" + +"However, you feigned not to know me." + +"Because you did not do me the honor to announce yourself." + +"This pride pleases me," said the cardinal. + +"I had then," continued Jeanne, "despairing of seeing you, taken the +resolution of throwing off all this flimsy parade, which covers my real +poverty, and of going in rags, like other mendicants, to beg my bread +from the passers-by." + +"You are not at the end of your resources, I trust, madame?" + +Jeanne did not reply. + +"You have some property, even if it be mortgaged? Some family jewels? +This, for example," and he pointed to a box, with which the delicate +fingers of the lady had been playing. "A singular box, upon my word! +Will you permit me to look? Oh, a portrait!" he continued, with a look +of great surprise. "Do you know the original of this portrait?" asked +Jeanne. + +"It is that of Maria Theresa." + +"Of Maria Theresa?" + +"Yes, the Empress of Austria." + +"Really!" cried Jeanne. "Are you sure, monseigneur?" + +"Where did you get it?" he asked. + +"From a lady who came the day before yesterday." + +"To see you?" + +"Yes." + +The cardinal examined the box with minute attention. + +"There were two ladies," continued Jeanne. + +"And one of them gave you this box?" said he, with evident suspicion. + +"No; she dropped it here." + +The cardinal remained thoughtful for some time, and then said, "What was +the name of this lady? I beg pardon for being inquisitive." + +"Indeed, it is a somewhat strange question." + +"Indiscreet, perhaps, but not strange." + +"Yes, very strange; for if I had known her name, I should have returned +it long before this." + +"Then, you know not who she is?" + +"I only know she is the head of some charitable house." + +"In Paris?" + +"No; in Versailles." + +"From Versailles; the head of a charitable house!" + +"Monseigneur, I accept charity from ladies; that does not so much +humiliate a poor woman; and this lady, who had heard of my wants, left a +hundred louis on my table when she went away." + +"A hundred louis!" said the cardinal in surprise; then, fearing to +offend, he added, "I am not astonished, madame, that they should give +you such a sum. You merit, on the contrary, all the solicitude of +charitable people, and your name makes it a duty to help you. It is +only the title of the Sister of Charity that surprised me, they are not +in the habit of giving such donations. Could you describe this lady to +me?" + +"Not easily, sir." + +"How so, since she came here?" + +"Yes, but she probably did not wish to be recognized, for she hid her +face as much as possible in her hood, and was besides, enveloped in +furs." + +"Well, but you saw something?" + +"My impressions were, that she had blue eyes, and a small mouth, though +the lips were rather thick." + +"Tall or short?" + +"Of middle height." + +"Her hands?" + +"Perfect." + +"Her throat?" + +"Long and slender." + +"Her expression?" + +"Severe and noble. But you, perhaps, know this lady, monseigneur?" + +"Why should you think so, madame?" + +"From the manner in which you question me; besides, there is a sympathy +between the doers of good works." + +"No, madame, I do not know her." + +"But, sir, if you had some suspicion." + +"How should I?" + +"Oh, from this portrait, perhaps." + +"Yes, certainly, the portrait," said the cardinal, rather uneasily. + +"Well, sir, this portrait you still believe to be that of Maria +Theresa?" + +"I believe so, certainly." + +"Then you think----?" + +"That you have received a visit from some German lady who has founded +one of these houses!" But it was evident that the cardinal doubted, and +he was pondering how this box, which he had seen a hundred times in the +hands of the queen, came into the possession of this woman. Had the +queen really been to see her? If she had been, was she indeed unknown to +Jeanne? Or, if not, why did she try to hide the knowledge from him. If +the queen had really been there, it was no longer a poor woman he had to +deal with, but a princess succored by a queen, who bestowed her gifts in +person. + +Jeanne saw that the cardinal was thoughtful, and even suspicious of her. +She felt uneasy, and knew not what to say. + +At last, however, he broke the silence by saying, "And the other lady?" + +"Oh, I could see her perfectly; she is tall and beautiful, with a +determined expression, and a brilliant complexion." + +"And the other lady did not name her?" + +"Yes, once; but by her Christian name." + +"What was it?" + +"Andree." + +"Andree!" repeated the cardinal, with a start. + +This name put an end to all his doubts. It was known that the queen had +gone to Paris on that day with Mademoiselle de Taverney. It was evident, +also, that Jeanne had no intention of deceiving him; she was telling all +she knew. Still, he would try one more proof. + +"Countess," he said, "one thing astonishes me, that you have not +addressed yourself to the king." + +"But, sir, I have sent him twenty petitions." + +"Without result?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, then, the princes of the blood; M. le Duc d'Orleans is +charitable, and often likes to do what the king refuses." + +"I have tried him, equally fruitlessly." + +"That astonishes me." + +"Oh, when one is poor, and not supported by any one----" + +"There is still the Comte d'Artois; sometimes dissipated men do more +generous actions than charitable ones." + +"It is the same story with him." + +"But the princesses, the aunts of the king, Madame Elizabeth +particularly, would refuse assistance to no one." + +"It is true, monseigneur, her royal highness, to whom I wrote, promised +to receive me; but, I know not why, after having received my husband, I +could never get any more notice from her." + +"It is strange, certainly," said the cardinal; then, as if the thought +had just struck him, he cried, "Ah! mon Dieu! but we are forgetting the +person to whom you should have addressed yourself first of all." + +"Whom do you mean?" + +"To the dispenser of all favors, she who never refuses help where it is +deserved--to the queen. Have you seen her?" + +"No," answered Jeanne. + +"You have never presented your petition to the queen?" + +"Never." + +"You have not tried to obtain an audience of her?" + +"I have tried, but failed." + +"Have you tried to throw yourself in her way, that she might remark +you?" + +"No, monseigneur." + +"But that is very strange." + +"I have only been twice to Versailles, and then saw but two persons +there; one was Doctor Louis, who had attended my poor father at the +Hotel Dieu, and the other was M. le Baron de Taverney, to whom I had an +introduction." + +"What did M. de Taverney say to you? He might have brought you to the +queen." + +"He told me that I was very foolish to bring forward as a claim to the +benevolence of the king a relationship which would be sure to displease +him, as nobody likes poor relations." + +"I recognize the egotistical and rude old baron. Well," continued he, "I +will conduct you myself to Versailles, and will open the doors for +you." + +"Oh, monseigneur, how good you are," cried Jeanne, overwhelmed with joy. + +The cardinal approached her, and said, "It is impossible but that before +long all must interest themselves in you." + +"Alas! monseigneur," said Jeanne, with a sigh, "do you think so?" + +"I am sure of it." + +"I fear you flatter me," she said, looking earnestly at him, for she +could hardly believe in his sudden change of manner, he had been so cold +and suspicious at first. + +This look had no small effect on the cardinal; he began to think he had +never met a woman prettier or more attractive. "Ah, ma foi!" said he to +himself, with the eternally scheming spirit of a man used to diplomacy, +"it would be too extraordinary and too fortunate if I have met at once +an honest woman with the attractions of a scheming one, and found in +this poverty an able coadjutrix to my desires." + +"Monseigneur, the silence you keep every now and then disquiets me." + +"Why so, countess?" + +"Because a man like you only fails in politeness to two kinds of women." + +"Mon Dieu! countess, you frighten me. What are you about to say?" and he +took her hand. + +"I repeat it," said she, "with women that you love too much, or with +women whom you do not esteem enough to be polite to." + +"Countess, you make me blush. Have I, then, failed in politeness towards +you?" + +"Rather so, monseigneur; and yet you cannot love me too much, and I have +given you no cause to despise me." + +"Oh, countess, you speak as if you were angry with me." + +"No, monseigneur; you have not yet merited my anger." + +"And I never will, madame. From this day, in which I have had the +pleasure of making your acquaintance, my solicitude for you will not +cease." + +"Oh, sir, do not speak to me of your protection." + +"Oh, mon Dieu! I should humiliate myself, not you, in mentioning such a +thing;" and he pressed her hand, which he continued to hold, to his +lips. + +She tried to withdraw it; but he said, "Only politeness, madame," and +she let it remain. + +"To know," said she, "that I shall occupy a place, however small, in the +mind of a man so eminent and so busy, would console me for a year." + +"Let us hope the consolation will last longer than that, countess." + +"Well, perhaps so, monseigneur; I have confidence in you, because I feel +that you are capable of appreciating a mind like mine, adventurous, +brave, and pure, in spite of my poverty, and of the enemies which my +position has made me. Your eminence will, I am sure, discover all the +good that is in me, and be indulgent to all the rest." + +"We, are, then, warm friends, madame;" and he advanced towards her, but +his arms were a little more extended than the occasion required. She +avoided him, and said, laughing: + +"It must be a friendship among three, cardinal." + +"Among three?" + +"Doubtless, for there exists an exile, a poor gendarme, who is called M. +de la Motte." + +"Oh, countess, what a deplorably good memory you have!" + +"I must speak to you of him, that you may not forget him." + +"Do you know why I do not speak of him, countess?" + +"No; pray tell me." + +"Because he will speak enough for himself: husbands never let themselves +be forgotten. We shall hear that M. le Comte de la Motte found it good, +or found it bad, that the Cardinal de Rohan came two, three, or four +times a week to visit his wife." + +"Ah! but will you come so often, monseigneur?" + +"Without that, where would be our friendship? Four times! I should have +said six or seven." + +Jeanne laughed, "I should not indeed wonder in that case if people did +talk of it." + +"Oh! but we can easily prevent them." + +"How?" + +"Quite easily. The people know me----" + +"Certainly, monseigneur." + +"But you they have the misfortune not to know." + +"Well?" + +"Therefore, if you would----" + +"What, sir?" + +"Come out instead of me." + +"Come to your hotel, monseigneur?" + +"You would go to see a minister." + +"Oh! a minister is not a man." + +"You are adorable, countess. But I did not speak of my hotel; I have a +house----" + +"Oh! a petite maison?" + +"No; a house of yours." + +"A house of mine, cardinal! Indeed, I did not know it." + +"To-morrow, at ten o'clock, you shall have the address." + +The countess blushed; the cardinal took her hand again, and imprinted +another kiss upon it, at once bold, respectful, and tender. They then +bowed to each other. + +"Light monseigneur down," said the countess; and he went away. + +"Well," thought she, "I have made a great step in the world." + +"Come," said the cardinal to himself as he drove off, "I think I have +killed two birds with one stone; this woman has too much talent not to +catch the queen as she has caught me?" + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +MESMER AND ST. MARTIN. + + +The fashionable study in Paris at this time, and that which engrossed +most of those who had no business to attend to, was Mesmerism--a +mysterious science, badly defined by its discoverers, who did not wish +to render it too plain to the eyes of the people. Dr. Mesmer, who had +given to it his own name, was then in Paris, as we have already heard +from Marie Antoinette. + +This Doctor Mesmer deserves a few words from us, as his name was then in +all mouths. + +He had brought this science from Germany, the land of mysteries, in +1777. He had previously made his debut there, by a theory on the +influence of the planets. He had endeavored to establish that these +celestial bodies, through the same power by which they attract each +other, exercised an influence over living bodies, and particularly over +the nervous system, by means of a subtle fluid with which the air is +impregnated. But this first theory was too abstract: one must, to +understand it, be initiated into all the sciences of Galileo or Newton; +and it would have been necessary, for this to have become popular, that +the nobility should have been transformed into a body of savants. He +therefore abandoned this system, and took up that of the loadstone, +which was then attracting great attention, people fancying that this +wonderful power was efficacious in curing illnesses. + +Unhappily for him, however, he found a rival in this already established +in Vienna; therefore he once more announced that he abandoned mineral +magnetism, and intended to effect his cures through animal magnetism. + +This, although a new name, was not in reality a new science; it was as +old as the Greeks and Egyptians, and had been preserved in traditions, +and revived every now and then by the sorcerers of the thirteenth, +fourteenth, and fifteenth centuries, many of whom had paid for their +knowledge with their lives. Urbain Grandier was nothing but an animal +magnetizer; and Joseph Balsamo we have seen practising it. Mesmer only +condensed this knowledge into a science, and gave it a name. He then +communicated his system to the scientific academies of Paris, London, +and Berlin. The two first did not answer him, and the third said that he +was mad. He came to France, and took out of the hands of Dr. Storck, and +of the oculist Wenzel, a young girl seventeen years old, who had a +complaint of the liver and gutta serena, and after three months of his +treatment, restored her health and her sight. + +This cure convinced many people, and among them a doctor called Deslon, +who, from his enemy, became his pupil. Prom this time his reputation +gradually increased; the academy declared itself against him, but the +court for him. At last the government offered him, in the king's name, +an income for life of twenty thousand francs to give lectures in public, +and ten thousand more to instruct three persons, who should be chosen by +them, in his system. + +Mesmer, however, indignant at the royal parsimony, refused, and set out +for the Spa waters with one of his patients; but while he was gone, +Deslon, his pupil, possessor of the secret which he had refused to sell +for thirty thousand francs a year, opened a public establishment for the +treatment of patients. Mesmer was furious, and exhausted himself in +complaints and menaces. One of his patients, however, M. de Bergasse, +conceived the idea of forming a company. They raised a capital of +340,000 francs, on the condition that the secret should be revealed to +the shareholders. It was a fortunate time: the people, having no great +public events to interest them, entered eagerly into every new amusement +and occupation; and this mysterious theory possessed no little +attraction, professing, as it did, to cure invalids, restore mind to the +fools, and amuse the wise. + +Everywhere Mesmer was talked of. What had he done? On whom had he +performed these miracles? To what great lord had he restored sight? To +what lady worn out with dissipation had he renovated the nerves? To what +young girl had he shown the future in a magnetic trance? The future! +that word of ever-entrancing interest and curiosity. + +Voltaire was dead; there was no one left to make France laugh, except +perhaps Beaumarchais, who was still more bitter than his master; +Rousseau was dead, and with him the sect of religious philosophers. War +had generally occupied strongly the minds of the French people, but now +the only war in which they were engaged was in America, where the people +fought for what they called independence, and what the French called +liberty; and even this distant war in another land, and affecting +another people, was on the point of termination. Therefore they felt +more interest just now in M. Mesmer, who was near, than in Washington or +Lord Cornwallis, who were so far off. Mesmer's only rival in the public +interest was St. Martin, the professor of spiritualism, as Mesmer was of +materialism, and who professed to cure souls, as he did bodies. + +Imagine an atheist with a religion more attractive than religion itself; +a republican full of politeness and interest for kings; a gentleman of +the privileged classes tender and solicitous for the people, endowed +with the most startling eloquence, attacking all the received religions +of the earth. + +Imagine Epicurus in white powder, embroidered coat, and silk stockings, +not content with endeavoring to overturn a religion in which he did not +believe, but also attacking all existing governments, and promulgating +the theory that all men are equal, or, to use his own words, that all +intelligent beings are kings. + +Imagine the effect of all this in society as it then was, without fixed +principles or steady guides, and how it was all assisting to light the +fire with which France not long after began to consume herself. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +THE BUCKET. + +We have endeavored to give an idea in the last chapter of the interest +and enthusiasm which drew such crowds of the people to see M. Mesmer +perform publicly his wonderful experiments. + +The king, as we know, had given permission to the queen to go and see +what all Paris was talking of, accompanied by one of the princesses. It +was two days after the visit of M. de Rohan to the countess. The weather +was fine, and the thaw was complete, and hundreds of sweepers were +employed in cleaning away the snow from the streets. The clear blue sky +was just beginning to be illumined by its first stars, when Madame de la +Motte, elegantly dressed, and presenting every appearance of opulence, +arrived in a coach, which Clotilde had carefully chosen as the best +looking at the Place Vendome, and stopped before a brilliantly-lighted +house. + +It was that of Doctor Mesmer. Numbers of other carriages were waiting at +the door, and a crowd of people had collected to see the patients arrive +and depart, who seemed to derive much pleasure when they saw some rich +invalid, enveloped in furs and satins, carried in by footmen, from the +evident proof it afforded that God made men healthy or unhealthy, +without reference to their purses or their genealogies. A universal +murmur would arise when they recognized some duke paralyzed in an arm or +leg; or some marshal whose feet refused their office, less in +consequence of military fatigues and marches than from halts made with +the ladies of the Opera, or of the Comedie Italienne. Sometimes it was a +lady carried in by her servants with drooping head and languid eye, who, +weakened by late hours and an irregular life, came to demand from +Doctor Mesmer the health she had vainly sought to regain elsewhere. + +Many of these ladies were as well known as the gentlemen, but a great +many escaped the public gaze, especially on this evening, by wearing +masks; for there was a ball at the Opera that night, and many of them +intended to drive straight there when they left the doctor's house. + +Through this crowd Madame de la Motte walked erect and firm, also with a +mask on, and elicited only the exclamation, "This one does not look ill, +at all events." + +Ever since the cardinal's visit, the attention with which he had +examined the box and portrait had been on Jeanne's mind; and she could +not but feel that all his graciousness commenced after seeing it, and +she therefore felt proportionate curiosity to learn more about it. + +First she had gone to Versailles to inquire at all the houses of charity +about German ladies; but there were there, perhaps, a hundred and fifty +or two hundred, and all Jeanne's inquiries about the two ladies who had +visited her had proved fruitless. In vain she repeated that one of them +was called Andree; no one knew a German lady of that name, which indeed +was not German. Baffled in this, she determined to try elsewhere, and +having heard much of M. Mesmer, and the wonderful secrets revealed +through him, determined upon going there. Many were the stories of this +kind in circulation. Madame de Duras had recovered a child who had been +lost; Madame de Chantoue, an English dog, not much bigger than her fist, +for which she would have given all the children in the world; and M. de +Vaudreuil a lock of hair, which he would have bought back with half his +fortune. All these revelations had been made by clairvoyants after the +magnetic operations of Doctor Mesmer. + +Those who came to see him, after traversing the ante-chambers, were +admitted into a large room, from which the darkened and hermetically +closed windows excluded light and air. In the middle of this room, under +a luster which gave but a feeble light, was a vast unornamented tank, +filled with water impregnated with sulphur, and to the cover of which +was fastened an iron ring; attached to this ring was a long chain, the +object of which we shall presently see. + +All the patients were seated round the room, men and women +indiscriminately; then a valet, taking the chain, wound it round the +limbs of the patients, so that they might all feel, at the same time, +the effects of the electricity contained in the tank; they were then +directed to touch each other in some way, either by the shoulder, the +elbow, or the feet, and each was to take in his hand a bar of iron, +which was also connected with the tank, and to place it to the heart, +head, or whatever was the seat of the malady. When they were all ready, +a soft and pleasing strain of music, executed by invisible performers, +was heard. Among the most eager of the crowd, on the evening of which we +speak, was a young, distinguished-looking, and beautiful woman, with a +graceful figure, and rather showily dressed, who pressed the iron to her +heart with wonderful energy, rolling her beautiful eyes, and beginning +to show, in the trembling of her hands, the first effects of the +electric fluid. + +As she constantly threw back her head, resting it on the cushions of her +chair, all around could see perfectly her pale but beautiful face, and +her white throat. Many seemed to look at her with great astonishment, +and a general whispering commenced among those who surrounded her. + +Madame de la Motte was one of the most curious of the party; and of all +she saw around her, nothing attracted her attention so much as this +young lady, and after gazing earnestly at her for some time, she at last +murmured, "Oh! it is she, there is no doubt. It is the lady who came to +see me the other day." And convinced that she was not mistaken, she +advanced towards her, congratulating herself that chance had effected +for her what she had so long been vainly trying to accomplish; but at +this moment the young lady closed her eyes, contracted her mouth, and +began to beat the air feebly with her hands, which hands, however, did +not seem to Jeanne the white and beautiful ones she had seen in her +room a few days before. + +The patients now began to grow excited under the influence of the fluid. +Men and women began to utter sighs, and even cries, moving convulsively +their heads, arms, and legs. Then a man suddenly made his appearance; no +one had seen him enter; you might have fancied he came out of the tank. +He was dressed in a lilac robe, and held in his hand a long wand, which +he several times dipped into the mysterious tank; then he made a sign, +the doors opened, and twenty robust servants entered, and seizing such +of the patients as began to totter on their seats, carried them into an +adjoining room. + +While this was going on Madame de la Motte heard a man who had +approached near to the young lady before-mentioned, and who was in a +perfect paroxysm of excitement, say in a loud voice, "It is surely she!" +Jeanne was about to ask him who she was, when her attention was drawn to +two ladies who were just entering, followed by a man, who, though +disguised as a bourgeois, had still the appearance of a servant. + +The tournure of one of these ladies struck Jeanne so forcibly that she +made a step towards them, when a cry from the young woman near her +startled every one. The same man whom Jeanne had heard speak before now +called out, "But look, gentlemen, it is the queen." + +"The queen!" cried many voices, in surprise. "The queen here! The queen +in that state! Impossible!" + +"But look," said he again; "do you know the queen, or not?" + +"Indeed," said many, "the resemblance is incredible." + +"Monsieur," said Jeanne to the speaker, who was a stout man, with quick +observant eyes, "did you say the queen?" + +"Oh! madame, there is no doubt of it." + +"And where is she?" + +"Why, that young lady that you see there, on the violet cushions, and in +such a state that she cannot moderate her transports, is the queen." + +"But on what do you found such an idea, monsieur?" + +"Simply because it is the queen." And he left Jeanne to go and spread +his news among the rest. + +She turned from the almost revolting spectacle, and going near to the +door, found herself face to face with the two ladies she had seen enter. +Scarcely had she seen the elder one than she uttered a cry of surprise. + +"What is the matter?" asked the lady. + +Jeanne took off her mask, and asked, "Do you recognize me, madame?" + +The lady made, but quickly suppressed, a movement of surprise, and said, +"No, madame." + +"Well, madame, I recognize you, and will give you a proof;" and she drew +the box from her pocket, saying, "you left this at my house." + +"But supposing this to be true, what makes you so agitated?" + +"I am agitated by the danger that your majesty is incurring here." + +"Explain yourself." + +"Not before you have put on this mask;" and she offered hers to the +queen, who, however, did not take it. + +"I beg your majesty; there is not an instant to lose." + +The queen put on the mask. "And now, pray come away," added Jeanne. + +"But why?" said the queen. + +"Your majesty has not been seen by any one?" + +"I believe not." + +"So much the better." + +The queen mechanically moved to the door, but said again, "Will you +explain yourself?" + +"Will not your majesty believe your humble servant for the present, that +you were running a great risk?" + +"But what risk?" + +"I will have the honor to tell your majesty whenever you will grant me +an hour's audience; but it would take too long now;" and seeing that the +queen looked displeased, "Pray, madame," said she, turning to the +Princess Lamballe, "join your petitions to mine that the queen should +leave this place immediately." + +"I think we had better, madame," said the princess. + +"Well, then, I will," answered the queen; then, turning to Madame de la +Motte, "You ask for an audience?" she said. + +"I beg for that honor, that I may explain this conduct to your majesty." + +"Well, bring this box with you, and you shall be admitted; Laurent, the +porter, shall have orders to do so." Then going into the street, she +called in German, "Kommen sie da, Weber." + +A carriage immediately drove up, they got in, and were immediately out +of sight. + +When they were gone, Madame de la Motte said to herself, "I have done +right in this--for the rest, I must consider." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +MADEMOISELLE OLIVA. + + +During this time, the man who had pointed out the fictitious queen to +the people touched on the shoulder another man who stood near him, in a +shabby dress, and said. "For you, who are a journalist, here is a fine +subject for an article." + +"How so?" replied the man. + +"Shall I tell you?" + +"Certainly." + +"The danger of being governed by a king who is governed by a queen who +indulges in such paroxysms as these." + +The journalist laughed. "But the Bastile?" he said. + +"Pooh, nonsense! I do not mean you to write it out plainly. Who can +interfere with you if you relate the history of Prince Silou and the +Princess Etteniotna, Queen of Narfec? What do you say to that?" + +"It is an admirable idea!" said the journalist. + +"And I do not doubt that a pamphlet called 'The Paroxysms of the +Princess Etteniotna at the house of the Fakeer Remsem' would have a +great success." + +"I believe it also." + +"Then go and do it." + +The journalist pressed the hand of the unknown. "Shall I send you some +copies, sir? I will with pleasure if you will give me your name." + +"Certainly; the idea pleases me. What is the usual circulation of your +journal?" + +"Two thousand." + +"Then do me a favor: take these fifty louis, and publish six thousand." + +"Oh, sir, you overwhelm me. May I not know the name of such a generous +patron of literature?" + +"You shall know, when I call for one thousand copies--at two francs +each, are they not? Will they be ready in a week?" + +"I will work night and day, monsieur." + +"Let it be amusing." + +"It shall make all Paris die with laughing, except one person." + +"Who will weep over it. Apropos, date the publication from London." + +"Sir, I am your humble servant." And the journalist took his leave, with +his fifty louis in his pocket, highly delighted. + +The unknown again turned to look at the young woman, who had now +subsided into a state of exhaustion, and looked beautiful as she lay +there. "Really," he said to himself, "the resemblance is frightful. God +had his motives in creating it, and has no doubt condemned her to whom +the resemblance is so strong." + +While he made these reflections, she rose slowly from the midst of the +cushions, assisting herself with the arm of an attendant, and began to +arrange her somewhat disordered toilet, and then traversed the rooms, +confronting boldly the looks of the people. She was somewhat astonished, +however, when she found herself saluted with deep and respectful bows by +a group which had already been assembled by the indefatigable stranger, +who kept whispering, "Never mind, gentlemen, never mind, she is still +the Queen of France; let us salute her." She next entered the courtyard, +and looked about for a coach or chair, but, seeing none, was about to +set off on foot, when a footman approached and said, "Shall I call +madame's carriage?" + +"I have none," she replied. + +"Madame came in a coach?" + +"Yes." + +"From the Rue Dauphine?" + +"Yes." + +"I will take madame home." + +"Do so, then," said she, although somewhat surprised at the offer. + +The man made a sign, and a carriage drove up. He opened the door for +her, and then said to the coachman, "To the Rue Dauphine." They set off, +and the young woman, who much approved of this mode of transit, +regretted she had not further to go. They soon stopped, however; the +footman handed her out, and immediately drove off again. + +"Really," said she to herself, "this is an agreeable adventure; it is +very gallant of M. Mesmer. Oh, I am very tired, and he must have +foreseen that. He is a great doctor." + +Saying these words, she mounted to the second story, and knocked at a +door, which was quickly opened by an old woman. + +"Is supper ready, mother?" + +"Yes, and growing cold." + +"Has he come?" + +"No, not yet, but the gentleman has." + +"What gentleman?" + +"He who was to speak to you this evening." + +"To me?" + +"Yes." + +This colloquy took place in a kind of ante-chamber opening into her +room, which was furnished with old curtains of yellow silk, chairs of +green Utrecht velvet, not very new, and an old yellow sofa. + +She opened the door, and, going in, saw a man seated on the sofa whom +she did not know in the least, although we do, for it was the same man +whom we have seen taking so much interest in her at Mesmer's. + +She had not time to question him, for he began immediately: "I know all +that you are going to ask, and will tell you without asking. You are +Mademoiselle Oliva, are you not?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"A charming person, highly nervous, and much taken by the system of M. +Mesmer." + +"I have just left there." + +"All this, however, your beautiful eyes are saying plainly, does not +explain what brings me here." + +"You are right, sir." + +"Will you not do me the favor to sit down, or I shall be obliged to get +up also, and that is an uncomfortable way of talking." + +"Really, sir, you have very extraordinary manners." + +"Mademoiselle, I saw you just now at M. Mesmer's, and found you to be +all I could wish." + +"Sir!" + +"Do not alarm yourself, mademoiselle. I do not tell you that I found you +charming--that would seem like a declaration of love, and I have no such +intention. I know that you are accustomed to have yourself called +beautiful, but I, who also think so, have other things to talk to you +about." + +"Really, sir, the manner in which you speak to me----" + +"Do not get angry before you have heard me. Is there any one that can +overhear us?" + +"No, sir, no one. But still----" + +"Then, if no one can hear, we can converse at our ease. What do you say +to a little partnership between us?" + +"Really, sir----" + +"Do not misunderstand; I do not say 'liaison'--I say partnership; I am +not talking of love, but of business." + +"What kind of business?" said Oliva, with growing curiosity. + +"What do you do all day?" + +"Why, I do nothing, or, at least, as little as possible." + +"You have no occupation--so much the better. Do you like walking?" + +"Very much." + +"To see sights, and go to balls?" + +"Excessively." + +"To live well?" + +"Above all things." + +"If I gave you twenty-five louis a month, would you refuse me?" + +"Sir!" + +"My dear Mademoiselle Oliva, now you are beginning to doubt me again, +and it was agreed that you were to listen quietly. I will say fifty +louis if you like." + +"I like fifty louis better than twenty-five, but what I like better than +either is to be able to choose my own lover." + +"Morbleu! but I have already told you that I do not desire to be your +lover. Set your mind at ease about that." + +"Then what am I to do to earn my fifty louis?" + +"You must receive me at your house, and always be glad to see me. Walk +out with me whenever I desire it, and come to me whenever I send for +you." + +"But I have a lover, sir." + +"Well, dismiss him." + +"Oh, Beausire cannot be sent away like that!" + +"I will help you." + +"No; I love him." + +"Oh!" + +"A little." + +"That is just a little too much." + +"I cannot help it." + +"Then he may stop." + +"You are very obliging." + +"Well--but do my conditions suit you?" + +"Yes, if you have told me all." + +"I believe I have said all I wish to say now." + +"On your honor?" + +"On my honor." + +"Very well." + +"Then that is settled; and here is the first month in advance." + +He held out the money, and, as she still seemed to hesitate a little, +slipped it himself into her pocket. + +Scarcely had he done so, when a knock at the door made Oliva run to the +window. "Good God!" she cried; "escape quickly; here he is!" + +"Who?" + +"Beausire, my lover. Be quick, sir!" + +"Nonsense!" + +"He will half murder you." + +"Bah!" + +"Do you hear how he knocks?" + +"Well, open the door." And he sat down again on the sofa, saying to +himself, "I must see this fellow, and judge what he is like." + +The knocks became louder, and mingled with oaths. + +"Go, mother, and open the door," cried Oliva. "As for you, sir, if any +harm happens to you, it is your own fault." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +MONSIEUR BEAUSIRE. + + +Oliva ran to meet a man, who came in swearing furiously, and in a +frightful passion. + +"Come, Beausire," said she, apparently not at all frightened. + +"Let me alone!" cried he, shaking her off brutally. "Ah! I see, it was +because there is a man here that the door was not opened!" And as the +visitor remained perfectly still, he advanced furiously towards him, +saying, "Will you answer me, sir?" + +"What do you want to know, my dear M. Beausire?" + +"What are you doing here, and who are you?" + +"I am a very quiet man, and I was simply talking to madame." + +"That was all," said Oliva. + +"Will you hold your tongue?" bawled Beausire. + +"Now," said the visitor, "do not be so rude to madame, who has done +nothing to deserve it; and if you are in a bad temper----" + +"Yes, I am." + +"He must have lost at cards," murmured Oliva. + +"I am cleaned out, mort de diable!" cried Beausire. "But you, sir, will +do me the favor to leave this room." + +"But, M. Beausire----" + +"Diable! if you do not go immediately it will be the worse for you." + +"You did not tell me, mademoiselle, that he was troubled with these +fits. Good heavens! what ferocity!" + +Beausire, exasperated, drew his sword, and roared, "If you do not move, +I will pin you to the sofa!" + +"Really, it is impossible to be more disagreeable," said the visitor, +also drawing a small sword, which they had not before seen. + +Oliva uttered piercing shrieks. + +"Oh, mademoiselle, pray be quiet," said he, "or two things will happen: +first, you will stun M. Beausire, and he will get killed; secondly, the +watch will come up and carry you straight off to St. Lazare." + +Oliva ceased her cries. + +The scene that ensued was curious. Beausire, furious with rage, was +making wild and unskilful passes at his adversary, who, still seated on +the sofa, parried them with the utmost ease, laughing immoderately all +the time. + +Beausire began to grow tired and also frightened, for he felt that if +this man, who was now content to stand on the defensive, were to attack +him in his turn, he should be done for in a moment. Suddenly, however, +by a skilful movement, the stranger sent Beausire's sword flying across +the room; it went through an open window, and fell into the street. + +"Oh, M. Beausire," said he, "you should take more care; if your sword +falls on any one, it will kill him." + +Beausire ran down at his utmost speed to fetch his sword, and meanwhile, +Oliva, seizing the hand of the victor, said: + +"Oh, sir, you are very brave; but as soon as you are gone, Beausire will +beat me." + +"Then I will remain." + +"Oh, no; when he beats me, I beat him in return, and I always get the +best of it, because I am not obliged to take any care; so if you would +but go, sir----" + +"But, my dear, if I go now, I shall meet M. Beausire on the stairs; +probably the combat will recommence, and as I shall not feel inclined to +stand on the staircase, I shall have to kill M. Beausire." + +"Mon Dieu! it is true." + +"Well, then, to avoid that I will remain here." + +"No, sir, I entreat; go up to the next story, and as soon as he returns +to this room I will lock the door and take the key, and you can walk +away while we fight it out." + +"You are a charming girl. Au revoir!" + +"Till when?" + +"To-night, if you please." + +"To-night! are you mad?" + +"Not at all; but there is a ball at the Opera to-night." + +"But it is now midnight." + +"That does not matter." + +"I should want a domino." + +"Beausire will fetch it when you have beaten him." + +"You are right," said Oliva, laughing. + +"And here are ten louis to buy it with." + +"Adieu! and thanks." And she pushed him out, saying, "Quick! he is +coming back." + +"But if by chance he should beat you, how will you let me know?" + +She reflected a moment. "You have a servant?" + +"Yes." + +"Send him here, and let him wait under the window till I let a note +fall." + +"I will. Adieu!" And he went up-stairs. + +Oliva drowned the sound of his footsteps by calling loudly to Beausire, +"Are you coming back, madman?" for he did not seem in much hurry to +reencounter his formidable adversary. At last, however, he came up. +Oliva was standing outside the door; she pushed him in, locked it, and +put the key in her pocket. + +Before the stranger left the house, he heard the noise of the combat +begin, and both voices loud and furious. "There is no doubt," said he to +himself, "that this woman knows how to take care of herself." His +carriage was waiting for him at the corner of the street, but before +getting in he spoke to the footman, who thereupon stationed himself +within view of Mademoiselle Oliva's windows. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +GOLD. + + +We must now return to the interior of the room. Beausire was much +surprised to see Oliva lock the door, and still more so not to see his +adversary. He began to feel triumphant, for if he was hiding from him he +must, he thought, be afraid of him. He therefore began to search for +him; but Oliva talked so loud and fast that he advanced towards her to +try and stop her, but was received with a box on the ear, which he +returned in kind. Oliva replied by throwing a china vase at his head, +and his answer was a blow with a cane. She, furious, flew at him and +seized him by the throat, and he, trying to free himself, tore her +dress. + +Then, with a cry, she pushed him from her with such force that he fell +in the middle of the room. + +He began to get tired of this, so he said, without commencing another +attack, "You are a wicked creature; you ruin me." + +"On the contrary, it is you who ruin me." + +"Oh, I ruin her!--she who has nothing!" + +"Say that I have nothing now, say that you have eaten, and drank, and +played away all that I had." + +"You reproach me with my poverty." + +"Yes, for it comes from your vices." + +"Do not talk of vices; it only remained for you to take a lover." + +"And what do you call all those wretches who sit by you in the +tennis-court, where you play?" + +"I play to live." + +"And nicely you succeed; we should die of hunger from your industry." + +"And you, with yours, are obliged to cry if you get your dress torn, +because you have nothing to buy another with." + +"I do better than you, at all events;" and, putting her hand in her +pocket, she drew out some gold and threw it across the room. + +When Beausire saw this, he remained stupefied. + +"Louis!" cried he at last. + +She took out some more, and threw them in his face. + +"Oh!" cried he, "Oliva has become rich!" + +"This is what my industry brings in," said she, pushing him with her +foot as he kneeled down to pick up the gold. + +"Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen," counted he, joyfully. + +"Miserable wretch!" said Oliva. + +"Nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two." + +"Coward!" + +"Twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five." + +"Infamous wretch!" + +He got up. "And so, mademoiselle, you have been saving money when you +kept me without necessaries. You let me go about in an old hat, darned +stockings, and patched clothes, while you had all this money! Where +does it come from! From the sale of my things?" + +"Scoundrel!" murmured Oliva, looking at him with contempt. + +"But I pardon your avarice," continued he. + +"You would have killed me just now," said Oliva. + +"Then I should have been right; now I should be wrong to do it." + +"Why, if you please?" + +"Because now you contribute to our menage." + +"You are a base wretch.'" + +"My little Oliva!" + +"Give me back my money." + +"Oh, my darling!" + +"If you do not, I will pass your own sword through your body!" + +"Oliva!" + +"Will you give it?" + +"Oh, you would not take it away?" + +"Ah, coward! you beg, you solicit for the fruits of my bad conduct--that +is what they call a man! I have always despised you." + +"I gave to you when I could, Nicole." + +"Do not call me Nicole." + +"Pardon, then, Oliva. But is it not true?" + +"Fine presents, certainly: some silver buckles, six louis d'or, two silk +dresses, and three embroidered handkerchiefs." + +"It is a great deal for a soldier." + +"Hold your tongue! The buckles you stole from some one else, the louis +d'or you borrowed and never returned, the silk dresses----" + +"Oliva! Oliva!" + +"Give me back my money." + +"What shall I give you instead?" + +"Double the quantity." + +[Illustration: THE QUEEN'S NECKLACE + +_Dumas. Vol. Eight_] + +"Well," said the rogue, gravely, "I will go to the Rue de Bussy and play +with it, and bring you back, not the double, but the quintuple;" and +he made two steps to the door. + +She caught him by the coat. + +"There," said he, "you have torn my coat." + +"Never mind; you shall have a new one." + +"That will be six louis, Oliva. Luckily, at the Rue de Bussy they are +not particular about dress." + +Oliva seized hold of the other tail, and tore it right off. + +Beausire became furious. + +"Mort de tous les diables!" cried he, "you will make me kill you at +last! You are tearing me to bits! Now I cannot go out." + +"On the contrary, you must go out immediately." + +"Without a coat?" + +"Put on your great-coat." + +"It is all in holes." + +"Then do not put it on; but you must go out." + +"I will not." + +She took out of her pocket another handful of gold, and put it into his +hands. + +Beausire kneeled at her feet and cried, "Order, and I will obey!" + +"Go quickly to the Capucin, Rue de Seine, where they sell dominoes for +the bal masque, and buy me one complete, mask and all." + +"Good." + +"And one for yourself--black, but mine white; and I only give you twenty +minutes to do it in." + +"Are we going to the ball?" + +"Yes, if you are obedient." + +"Oh, always." + +"Go, then, and show your zeal." + +"I run; but the money?" + +"You have twenty-five louis, that you picked up." + +"Oh, Oliva, I thought you meant to give me those." + +"You shall have more another time, but if I give you them now, you will +stop and play." + +"She is right," said he to himself; "that is just what I intended to +do;" and he set off. + +As soon as he was gone, Oliva wrote rapidly these words: "The peace is +signed, and the ball decided on; at two o'clock we shall be at the +Opera. I shall wear a white domino, with a blue ribbon on my left +shoulder." Then, rolling this round a bit of the broken vase, she went +to the window and threw it out. + +The valet picked it up, and made off immediately. + +In less than half an hour M. Beausire returned, followed by two men, +bringing, at the cost of eighteen louis, two beautiful dominoes, such as +were only turned out at the Capucin, makers to her majesty and the maids +of honor. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +LA PETITE MAISON. + + +We left Madame de la Motte at M. Mesmer's door, watching the queen's +carriage as it drove off. Then she went home; for she also intended to +put on a domino, and indulge herself by going to the Opera. But a +contretemps awaited her: a man was waiting at her door with a note from +the Cardinal de Rohan. She opened it, and read as follows: + + "Madame la Comtesse, you have doubtless not forgotten that we have + business together; even if you have a short memory, I never forget + what has pleased me. I shall have the honor to wait for you where + my messenger will conduct you, if you please to come." + +Jeanne, although rather vexed, immediately reentered the coach, and told +the footman to get on the box with the coachman. Ten minutes sufficed to +bring her to the entrance of the Faubourg St. Antoine, where, in a +hollow and completely hidden by great trees, was one of those pretty +houses built in the time of Louis XV., with all the taste of the +sixteenth, with the comfort of the eighteenth, century. + +"Oh, oh! a petite maison!" said she to herself. "It is very natural on +the part of M. de Rohan, but very humiliating for Valois. But, +patience." + +She was led from room to room till she came to a small dining-room, +fitted up with exquisite taste. There she found the cardinal waiting for +her. He was looking over some pamphlets, but rose immediately on seeing +her. + +"Ah, here you are. Thanks, Madame la Comtesse," and he approached to +kiss her hand; but she drew back with a reproachful and indignant air. + +"What is the matter, madame?" he asked. + +"You are, doubtless, not accustomed, monseigneur, to receive such a +greeting from the women whom your eminence is in the habit of summoning +here." + +"Oh! madame." + +"We are in your petite maison, are we not, sir?" continued she, looking +disdainfully around her. + +"But, madame----" + +"I had hoped that your eminence would have deigned to remember in what +rank I was born. I had hoped that you would have been pleased to +consider, that if God has made me poor, He has at least left me the +pride of my race." + +"Come, come, countess, I took you for a woman of intellect." + +"You call a woman of intellect, it appears, monseigneur, every one who +is indifferent to, and laughs at, everything, even dishonor. To these +women, pardon me, your eminence, I have been in the habit of giving a +different name." + +"No, countess, you deceive yourself; I call a woman of intellect one who +listens when you speak to her, and does not speak before having +listened." + +"I listen, then." + +"I had to speak to you of serious matters, countess." + +"Therefore you receive me in a dining-room." + +"Why, would you have preferred my receiving you in a boudoir?" + +"The distinction is nice," said she. + +"I think so, countess." + +"Then I am simply to sup with you?" + +"Nothing else." + +"I trust your eminence is persuaded that I feel the honor as I ought." + +"You are quizzing, countess." + +"No, I only laugh; would you rather I were angry? You are difficult to +please, monseigneur." + +"Oh; you are charming when you laugh, and I ask nothing better than to +see you always doing so; but at this moment you are not laughing; oh, +no! there is anger in that smile which shows your beautiful teeth." + +"Not the least in the world, monseigneur." + +"That is good." + +"And I hope you will sup well." + +"I shall sup well, and you?" + +"Oh, I am not hungry." + +"How, madame, you refuse to sup with me--you send me away?" + +"I do not understand you, monseigneur." + +"Listen, dear countess; if you were less in a passion, I would tell you +that it is useless to behave like this--you are always equally charming; +but as at each compliment I fear to be dismissed, I abstain." + +"You fear to be dismissed? Really, I beg pardon of your eminence, but +you become unintelligible." + +"It is, however, quite clear, what I say. The other day, when I came to +see you, you complained that you were lodged unsuitably to your rank. I +thought, therefore, that to restore you to your proper place would be +like restoring air to the bird whom the experimenter has placed under +his air-pump. Consequently, beautiful countess, that you might receive +me with pleasure, and that I, on my part, might visit you without +compromising either you or myself----" He stopped and looked at her. + +"Well!" she said. + +"I hoped that you would deign to accept this small residence; you +observe, I do not call it 'petite maison.'" + +"Accept! you give me this house, monseigneur?" said Jeanne, her heart +beating with eagerness. + +"A very small gift, countess; but if I had offered you more, you would +have refused." + +"Oh, monseigneur, it is impossible for me to accept this." + +"Impossible, why? Do not say that word to me, for I do not believe in +it. The house belongs to you, the keys are here on this silver plate; do +you find out another humiliation in this?" + +"No, but----" + +"Then accept." + +"Monseigneur, I have told you." + +"How, madame? you write to the ministers for a pension, you accept a +hundred louis from an unknown lady----" + +"Oh, monseigneur, it is different." + +"Come, I have waited for you in your dining-room. I have not yet seen +the boudoir, nor the drawing-room, nor the bedrooms, for I suppose there +are all these." + +"Oh, monseigneur, forgive me; you force me to confess that you the most +delicate of men," and she blushed with the pleasure she had been so long +restraining. But checking herself, she sat down and said, "Now, will +your eminence give me my supper?" + +The cardinal took off his cloak, and sat down also. + +Supper was served in a few moments. Jeanne put on her mask before the +servants came in. + +"It is I who ought to wear a mask," said the cardinal, "for you are at +home, among your own people." + +Jeanne laughed, but did not take hers off. In spite of her pleasure and +surprise, she made a good supper. The cardinal was a man of much talent, +and from his great knowledge of the world and of women, he was a man +difficult to contend with, and he thought that this country girl, full +of pretension, but who, in spite of her pride, could not conceal her +greediness, would be an easy conquest, worth undertaking on account of +her beauty, and of a something piquant about her, very pleasing to a +man "blase" like him. He therefore never took pains to be much on his +guard with her; and she, more cunning than he thought, saw through his +opinion of her, and tried to strengthen it by playing the provincial +coquette, and appearing silly, that her adversary might be in reality +weak in his over-confidence. + +The cardinal thought her completely dazzled by the present he had made +her--and so, indeed, she was; but he forgot that he himself was below +the mark of the ambition of a woman like Jeanne. + +"Come," said he, pouring out for her a glass of cyprus wine, "as you +have signed your contract with me, you will not be unfriendly any more, +countess." + +"Oh no!" + +"You will receive me here sometimes without repugnance?" + +"I shall never be so ungrateful as to forget whose house this really +is." + +"Not mine." + +"Oh yes, monseigneur." + +"Do not contradict me, I advise you, or I shall begin to impose +conditions." + +"You take care on your part----" + +"Of what?" + +"Why, I am at home here, you know, and if your conditions are +unreasonable, I shall call my servants----" + +The cardinal laughed. + +"Ah, you laugh, sir; you think if I call they will not come." + +"Oh, you quite mistake, countess. I am nothing here, only your guest. +Apropos," continued he, as if it had just entered his head, "have you +heard anything more of the ladies who came to see you?" + +"The ladies of the portrait?" said Jeanne, who, now knowing the queen, +saw through the artifice. + +"Yes, the ladies of the portrait." + +"Monseigneur, you know them as well and even better than I do, I feel +sure." + +"Oh, countess, you do me wrong. Did you not express a wish to learn who +they were?" + +"Certainly; it is natural to desire to know your benefactors." + +"Well, if knew, I should have told you." + +"M. le Cardinal, you do know them." + +"No." + +"If you repeat that 'no,' I shall have to call you a liar." + +"I shall know how to avenge that insult." + +"How?" + +"With a kiss." + +"You know the portrait of Maria Theresa?" + +"Certainly, but what of that?" + +"That, having recognized this portrait, you must have had some suspicion +of the person to whom it belonged." + +"And why?" + +"Because it was natural to think that the portrait of a mother would +only be in the hands of her daughter." + +"The queen!" cried the cardinal, with so truthful a tone of surprise +that it duped even Jeanne. "Do you really think the queen came to see +you?" + +"And you did not suspect it?" + +"Mon Dieu, no! how should I? I, who speak to you, am neither son, +daughter, nor even relation of Maria Theresa, yet I have a portrait of +her about me at this moment. Look," said he--and he drew out a snuff-box +and showed it to her; "therefore you see that if I, who am in no way +related to the imperial house, carry about such a portrait, another +might do the same, and yet be a stranger." + +Jeanne was silent--she had nothing to answer. + +"Then it is your opinion," he went on, "that you have had a visit from +the queen, Marie Antoinette." + +"The queen and another lady." + +"Madame de Polignac?" + +"I do not know." + +"Perhaps Madame de Lamballe?" + +"A young lady, very beautiful and very serious." + +"Oh, perhaps Mademoiselle de Taverney." + +"It is possible; I do not know her." + +"Well, if her majesty has really come to visit you, you are sure of her +protection. It is a great step towards your fortune." + +"I believe it, monseigneur." + +"And her majesty was generous to you?" + +"She gave me a hundred louis." + +"And she is not rich, particularly now." + +"That doubles my gratitude." + +"Did she show much interest in you?" + +"Very great." + +"Then all goes well," said the prelate; "there only remains one thing +now--to penetrate to Versailles." + +The countess smiled. + +"Ah, countess, it is not so easy." + +She smiled again, more significantly than before. + +"Really, you provincials," said he, "doubt nothing; because you have +seen Versailles with the doors open, and stairs to go up, you think any +one may open these doors and ascend these stairs. Have you seen the +monsters of brass, of marble, and of lead, which adorn the park and the +terraces?" + +"Yes." + +"Griffins, gorgons, ghouls, and other ferocious beasts. Well, you will +find ten times as many, and more wicked, living animals between you and +the favor of sovereigns." + +"Your eminence will aid me to pass through the ranks of these monsters." + +"I will try, but it will be difficult. And if you pronounce my name, if +you discover your talisman, it will lose all its power." + +"Happily, then, I am guarded by the immediate protection of the queen, +and I shall enter Versailles with a good key." + +"What key, countess?" + +"Ah, Monsieur le Cardinal, that is my secret--or rather it is not, for +if it were mine, I should feel bound to tell it to my generous +protector." + +"There is, then, an obstacle, countess?" + +"Alas! yes, monseigneur. It is not my secret, and I must keep it. Let it +suffice you to know that to-morrow I shall go to Versailles; that I +shall be received, and, I have every reason to hope, well received." + +The cardinal looked at her with wonder. "Ah, countess," said he, +laughing, "I shall see if you will get in." + +"You will push your curiosity so far as to follow me?" + +"Exactly." + +"Very well." + +"Really, countess, you are a living enigma." + +"One of those monsters who inhabit Versailles." + +"Oh, you believe me a man of taste, do you not?" + +"Certainly, monseigneur." + +"Well, here I am at your knees, and I take your hand and kiss it. Should +I do that if I thought you a monster?" + +"I beg you, sir, to remember," said Jeanne coldly, "that I am neither a +grisette nor an opera girl; that I am my own mistress, feeling myself +the equal of any man in this kingdom. Therefore I shall take freely and +spontaneously, when it shall please me, the man who will have gained my +affections. Therefore, monseigneur, respect me a little, and, in me, the +nobility to which we both belong." + +The cardinal rose. "I see," said he, "you wish me to love you +seriously." + +"I do not say that; but I wish to be able to love you. When that day +comes--if it does comes--you will easily find it out, believe me. If you +do not, I will let you know it; for I feel young enough and attractive +enough not to mind making the first advances, nor to fear a repulse." + +"Countess, if it depends upon me, you shall love me." + +"We shall see." + +"You have already a friendship for me, have you not?" + +"More than that." + +"Oh! then we are at least half way. And you are a woman that I should +adore, if----" He stopped and sighed. + +"Well," said she, "if----" + +"If you would permit it." + +"Perhaps I shall, when I shall be independent of your assistance, and +you can no longer suspect that I encourage you from interested motives." + +"Then you forbid me to pay my court now?" + +"Not at all; but there are other ways besides kneeling and kissing +hands." + +"Well, countess, let us hear; what will you permit?" + +"All that is compatible with my tastes and duties." + +"Oh, that is vague indeed." + +"Stop! I was going to add--my caprices." + +"I am lost!" + +"You draw back?" + +"No," said the cardinal, "I do not." + +"Well, then, I want a proof." + +"Speak." + +"I want to go to the ball at the Opera." + +"Well, countess, that only concerns yourself. Are you not free as air to +go where you wish?" + +"Ah, but you have not heard all. I want you to go with me." + +"I to the Opera, countess!" said he, with a start of horror. + +"See already how much your desire to please me is worth." + +"A cardinal cannot go to a ball at the Opera, countess. It is as if I +proposed to you to go into a public-house." + +"Then a cardinal does not dance, I suppose?" + +"Oh no!" + +"But I have read that M. le Cardinal de Richelieu danced a saraband." + +"Yes, before Anne of Austria." + +"Before a queen," repeated Jeanne. "Perhaps you would do as much for a +queen?" + +The cardinal could not help blushing, dissembler as he was. + +"Is it not natural," she continued, "that I should feel hurt when, after +all your protestations, you will not do as much for me as you would for +a queen?--especially when I only ask you to go concealed in a domino and +a mask; besides, a man like you, who may do anything with impunity!" + +The cardinal yielded to her flattery and her blandishments. Taking her +hand, he said, "For you I will do anything, even the impossible." + +"Thanks, monseigneur; you are really amiable. But now you have +consented, I will let you off." + +"No, no! he who does the work can alone claim the reward. Countess, I +will attend you, but in a domino." + +"We shall pass through the Rue St. Denis, close to the Opera," said the +countess. "I will go in masked, buy a domino and a mask for you, and you +can put them on in the carriage." + +"That will do delightfully." + +"Oh, monseigneur, you are very good! But, now I think of it, perhaps at +the Hotel Rohan you might find a domino more to your taste than the one +I should buy." + +"Now, countess, that is unpardonable malice. Believe me if I go to the +Opera, I shall be as surprised to find myself there as you were to find +yourself supping tete-a-tete with a man not your husband." + +Jeanne had nothing to reply to this. Soon a carriage without arms drove +up; they both got in, and drove off at a rapid pace. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +SOME WORDS ABOUT THE OPERA. + + +The Opera, that temple of pleasure at Paris, was burned in the month of +June, 1781. Twenty persons had perished in the ruins; and as it was the +second time within eighteen years that this had happened, it created a +prejudice against the place where it then stood, in the Palais Royal, +and the king had ordered its removal to a less central spot. The place +chosen was La Porte St. Martin. + +The king, vexed to see Paris deprived for so long of its Opera, became +as sorrowful as if the arrivals of grain had ceased, or bread had risen +to more than seven sous the quartern loaf. It was melancholy to see the +nobility, the army, and the citizens without their after-dinner +amusement; and to see the promenades thronged with the unemployed +divinities, from the chorus-singers to the prima donnas. + +An architect was then introduced to the king, full of new plans, who +promised so perfect a ventilation, that even in case of fire no one +could be smothered. He would make eight doors for exit, besides five +large windows placed so low that any one could jump out of them. In the +place of the beautiful hall of Moreau he was to erect a building with +ninety-six feet of frontage towards the boulevard, ornamented with eight +caryatides on pillars forming three entrance-doors, a bas-relief above +the capitals, and a gallery with three windows. The stage was to be +thirty-six feet wide, the theater seventy-two feet deep and eighty +across, from one wall to the other. He asked only seventy-five days and +nights before he opened it to the public. + +This appeared to all a mere gasconade, and was much laughed at. The +king, however, concluded the agreement with him. Lenoir set to work, and +kept his word. But the public feared that a building so quickly erected +could not be safe, and when it opened no one would go. + +Even the few courageous ones who did go to the first representation of +"Adele de Ponthieu" made their wills first. The architect was in +despair. He came to the king to consult him as to what was to be done. + +It was just after the birth of the dauphin; all Paris was full of joy. +The king advised him to announce a gratuitous performance in honor of +the event, and give a ball after. Doubtless plenty would come, and if +the theater stood, its safety was established. + +"Thanks, sire," said the architect. + +"But reflect, first," said the king, "if there be a crowd, are you sure +of your building?" + +"Sire, I am sure, and shall go there myself." + +"I will go to the second representation," said the king. + +The architect followed this advice. They played "Adele de Ponthieu" to +three thousand spectators, who afterwards danced. After this there could +be no more fear. It was three years afterwards that Madame de la Motte +and the cardinal went to the ball. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +THE BALL AT THE OPERA. + + +The ball was at its height when they glided in quietly, and were soon +lost in the crowd. A couple had taken refuge from the pressure under the +queen's box; one of them wore a white domino and the other a black one. +They were talking with great animation. "I tell you, Oliva," said the +black domino, "that I am sure you are expecting some one. Your head is +no longer a head, but a weather cock, and turns round to look after +every newcomer." + +"Well, is it astonishing that I should look at the people, when that is +what I came here for?" + +"Oh, that is what you came for!" + +"Well, sir, and for what do people generally come?" + +"A thousand things." + +"Men perhaps, but women only for one--to see and be seen by as many +people as possible." + +"Mademoiselle Oliva!" + +"Oh, do not speak in that big voice, it does so frighten me; and above +all, do not call me by name; it is bad taste to let every one here know +who you are." + +The black domino made an angry gesture; it was interrupted by a blue +domino who approached them. + +"Come, monsieur," said he, "let madame amuse herself; it is not every +night one comes to a ball at the Opera." + +"Meddle with your own affairs," replied Beausire, rudely. + +"Monsieur, learn once for all that a little courtesy is never out of +place." + +"I do not know you," he replied, "and do not want to have anything to do +with you." + +"No, you do not know me; but I know you, M. Beausire." + +At hearing his name thus pronounced, Beausire visibly trembled. + +"Oh, do not be afraid, M. Beausire; I am not what you take me for." + +"Pardieu! sir, do you guess thoughts, as well as names?" + +"Why not?" + +"Then tell me what I thought. I have never seen a sorcerer, and should +find it amusing." + +"Oh, what you ask is not difficult enough to entitle me to that name." + +"Never mind--tell." + +"Well, then! you took me for an agent of M. de Crosne." + +"M. de Crosne!" he repeated. + +"Yes; the lieutenant of police." + +"Sir!" + +"Softly, M. de Beausire, you really look as if you were feeling for your +sword." + +"And so I was, sir." + +"Good heavens! what a warlike disposition; but I think, dear M. +Beausire, you left your sword at home, and you did well. But to speak of +something else, will you relinquish to me madame for a time?" + +"Give you up madame?" + +"Yes, sir; that is not uncommon, I believe, at a ball at the Opera." + +"Certainly not, when it suits the gentleman." + +"It suffices sometimes that it should please the lady." + +"Do you ask it for a long time?" + +"Really, M. Beausire, you are too curious. Perhaps for ten +minutes--perhaps for an hour--perhaps for all the evening." + +"You are laughing at me, sir." + +"Come, reply; will you or not?" + +"No, sir." + +"Come, come, do not be ill-tempered, you who were so gentle just now." + +"Just now?" + +"Yes; at the Rue Dauphine." + +Oliva laughed. + +"Hold your tongue, madame," said Beausire. + +"Yes," continued the blue domino, "where you were on the point of +killing this poor lady, but stopped at the sight of some louis." + +"Oh, I see; you and she have an understanding together." + +"How can you say such a thing?" cried Oliva. + +"And if it were so," said the stranger, "it is all for your benefit." + +"For my benefit! that would be curious." + +"I will prove to you that your presence here is as hurtful as your +absence would be profitable. You are a member of a certain academy, not +the Academie Francaise, but in the Rue du Pot au Fer, in the second +story, is it not, my dear M. Beausire?" + +"Hush!" said Beausire. + +The blue domino drew out his watch, which was studded with diamonds that +made Beausire's eyes water to look at them. "Well!" continued he, "in a +quarter of an hour they are going to discuss there a little project, by +which, they hope to secure 2,000,000 francs among the twelve members, of +whom you are one, M. Beausire." + +"And you must be another; if you are not----" + +"Pray go on." + +"A member of the police." + +"Oh, M. Beausire, I thought you had more sense. If I were of the police, +I should have taken you long ago, for some little affairs less honorable +than this speculation." + +"So, sir, you wish to send me to the Rue du Pot au Fer: but I know +why--that I may be arrested there: I am not such a fool." + +"Now, you are one. If I wanted to arrest you, I had only to do it, and I +am rid of you at once; but gentleness and persuasion are my maxims." + +"Oh, I know now," said Beausire, "you are the man that was on the sofa +two hours ago." + +"What sofa?" + +"Never mind; you have induced me to go, and if you are sending a gallant +man into harm, you will pay for it some day." + +"Be tranquil," said the blue domino, laughing; "by sending you there, I +give you 100,000 francs at least, for you know the rule of this society +is, that whoever is absent loses his share." + +"Well, then, good-by!" said Beausire, and vanished. + +The blue domino took possession of Oliva's arm, left at liberty by +Beausire. + +"Now!" said she, "I have let you manage poor Beausire at your ease, but +I warn you, you will find me not so easy to talk over; therefore, find +something pretty to say to me, or----" + +"I know nothing prettier than your own history, dear Mademoiselle +Nicole," said he, pressing the pretty round arm of the little woman, who +uttered a cry at hearing herself so addressed; but, recovering herself +with marvelous quickness, said: + +"Oh, mon Dieu! what a name! Is it I whom you call Nicole? If so, you are +wrong, for that is not my name." + +"At present I know that you call yourself Oliva, but we will talk +afterwards of Oliva; at present I want to speak of Nicole. Have you +forgotten the time when you bore that name? I do not believe it, my dear +child, for the name that one bears as a young girl is ever the one +enshrined in the heart, although one may have been forced to take +another to hide the first. Poor Oliva, happy Nicole!" + +"Why do you say 'Poor Oliva'? do you not think me happy?" + +"It would be difficult to be happy with a man like Beausire." + +Oliva sighed and said, "Indeed I am not." + +"You love him, however." + +"A little." + +"If you do not love him much, leave him." + +"No." + +"Why not?" + +"Because I should no sooner have done so than I should regret it." + +"Do you think so?" + +"I am afraid I should." + +"What could you have to regret in a drunkard; a gambler, a man who beats +you, and a black-leg, who will one day come to the gallows?" + +"You would not understand me if I told you." + +"Try." + +"I should regret the excitement he keeps me in." + +"I ought to have guessed it; that comes of passing your youth with such +silent people." + +"You know about my youth?" + +"Perfectly." + +Oliva laughed and shook her head. + +"You doubt it?" + +"Really I do." + +"Then we will talk a little about it, Mademoiselle Nicole." + +"Very well; but I warn you, I will tell nothing." + +"I do not wish it. I do not mean your childhood. I begin from the time +when you first perceived that you had a heart capable of love." + +"Love for whom?" + +"For Gilbert." + +At this name Oliva trembled. + +"Ah, mon Dieu!" she cried. "How do you know?" Then with, a sigh said, +"Oh, sir! you have pronounced a name indeed fertile in remembrances. You +knew Gilbert?" + +"Yes; since I speak to you of him." + +"Alas!" + +"A charming lad, upon my word. You loved him?" + +"He was handsome. No, perhaps not; but I thought him so; he was full of +mind, my equal in birth, but Gilbert thought no woman his equal." + +"Not even Mademoiselle de Ta----" + +"Oh, I know whom you mean, sir. You are well instructed. Yes, Gilbert +loved higher than the poor Nicole: you are possessed of terrible +secrets, sir; tell me, if you can," she continued, looking earnestly at +him, "what has become of him?" + +"You should know best." + +"Why, in heaven's name?" + +"Because if he followed you from Taverney to Paris, you followed him +from Paris to Trianon." + +"Yes, that is true, but that is ten years ago; and I wished to know what +had passed since the time I ran away, and since he disappeared. When +Gilbert loved Mademoiselle de----" + +"Do not pronounce names aloud," said he. + +"Well, then, when he loved her so much that each tree at Trianon was +witness to his love----" + +"You loved him no more." + +"On the contrary, I loved him more than ever; and this love was my ruin. +I am beautiful, proud, and, when I please, insolent; and would lay my +head on the scaffold rather than confess myself despised." + +"You have a heart, Nicole?" + +"I had then," she said, sighing. + +"This conversation makes you sad." + +"No, it does me good to speak of my youth. But tell me why Gilbert fled +from Trianon." + +"Do you wish me to confirm a suspicion, or to tell you something you do +not know." + +"Something I do not know." + +"Well, I cannot tell you this. Have you not heard that he is dead?" + +"Yes, I have, but----" + +"Well, he is dead." + +"Dead!" said Nicole, with an air of doubt. Then, with a sudden start, +"Grant me one favor!" she cried. + +"As many as you like." + +"I saw you two hours ago; for it was you, was it not?" + +"Certainly." + +"You did not, then, try to disguise yourself?" + +"Not at all." + +"But I was stupid; I saw you, but I did not observe you." + +"I do not understand." + +"Do you know what I want?" + +"No." + +"Take off your mask." + +"Here! impossible!" + +"Oh, you cannot fear other people seeing you. Here, behind this column, +you will be quite hidden. You fear that I should recognize you." + +"You!" + +"And that I should cry, 'It is you--it is Gilbert!'" + +"What folly!" + +"Take off your mask." + +"Yes, on one condition--that you will take off yours, if I ask it." + +"Agreed." The unknown took off his immediately. + +Oliva looked earnestly at him, then sighed, and said: + +"Alas! no, it is not Gilbert." + +"And who am I?" + +"Oh, I do not care, as you are not he." + +"And if it had been Gilbert?" said he, as he put on his mask again. + +"Ah! if it had been," cried she passionately, "and he had said to me, +'Nicole, do you remember Taverney Maison-Rouge?' then there would have +been no longer a Beausire in the world for me." + +"But I have told you, my dear child, that Gilbert is dead." + +"Ah! perhaps, then, it is for the best," said Oliva, with a sigh. + +"Yes; he would never have loved you, beautiful as you are." + +"Do you, then, think he despised me?" + +"No; he rather feared you." + +"That is possible." + +"Then you think it better he is dead?" + +"Do not repeat my words; in your mouth they wound me." + +"But it is better for Mademoiselle Oliva. You observe, I abandon Nicole, +and speak to Oliva. You have before you a future, happy, rich, and +brilliant." + +"Do you think so?" + +"Yes, if you make up your mind to do anything to arrive at this end." + +"I promise you." + +"But you must give up sighing, as you were doing just now." + +"Very well. I sighed for Gilbert, and as he is dead, and there are not +two Gilberts in the world, I shall sigh no more. But enough of him." + +"Yes; we will speak of yourself. Why did you run away with Beausire?" + +"Because I wished to quit Trianon, and I was obliged to go with some +one; I could no longer remain a 'pis aller,' rejected by Gilbert." + +"You have, then, been faithful for ten years through pride? You have +paid dearly for it." + +Oliva laughed. + +"Oh, I know what you are laughing at. To hear a man, who pretends to +know everything, accuse you of having been ten years faithful, when you +think you have not rendered yourself worthy of such a ridiculous +reproach. However, I know all about you. I know that you went to +Portugal with Beausire, where you remained two years; that you then left +him, and went to the Indies with the captain of a frigate, who hid you +in his cabin, and who left you at Chandernagor when he returned to +Europe. I know that you had two millions of rupees to spend in the house +of a nabob who kept you shut up; that you escaped through the window on +the shoulders of a slave. Then, rich--for you had carried away two +beautiful pearl bracelets, two diamonds, and three large rubies--you +came back to France. When landing at Brest, your evil genius made you +encounter Beausire on the quay, who recognized you immediately, bronzed +and altered as you were, while you almost fainted at the sight of him." + +"Oh, mon Dieu!" cried Oliva, "who are you, then, who know all this?" + +"I know, further, that Beausire carried you off again, persuaded you +that he loved you, sold your jewels, and reduced you to poverty. Still, +you say you love him, and, as love is the root of all happiness, of +course you ought to be happy." + +Oliva hung her head, and covered her eyes with her hands, but two large +tears might be seen forcing their way through her fingers--liquid +pearls, more precious, though not so marketable, as those Beausire had +sold. + +"And this woman," at last she said, "whom you describe as so proud and +so happy, you have bought to-day for fifty louis." + +"I am aware it is too little, mademoiselle." + +"No, sir; on the contrary, I am surprised that a woman like me should be +worth so much." + +"You are worth more than that, as I will show you; but just now I want +all your attention." + +"Then I will be silent." + +"No; talk, on the contrary, of anything, it does not matter what, so +that we seem occupied." + +"You are very odd." + +"Take hold of my arm, and let us walk." + +They walked on among the various groups. In a minute or two, Oliva asked +a question. + +"Talk as much as you like, only do not ask questions at present," said +her companion, "for I cannot answer now; only, as you speak, disguise +your voice, hold your head up, and scratch your neck with your fan." + +She obeyed. + +In a minute, they passed a highly perfumed group, in the center of which +a very elegant-looking man was talking fast to three companions, who +were listening respectfully. + +"Who is that young man in that beautiful gray domino?" asked Oliva. + +"M. le Comte d'Artois; but pray do not speak just now!" At this moment +two other dominoes passed them, and stood in a place near, which was +rather free from people. + +"Lean on this pillar, countess," said one of them in a low voice, but +which was overheard by the blue domino, who started at its sound. + +Then a yellow domino, passing through the crowd, came up to the blue +one, and said, "It is he." + +"Very good," replied the other, and the yellow domino vanished. + +"Now, then," said Oliva's companion, turning to her, "we will begin to +enjoy ourselves a little." + +"I hope so, for you have twice made me sad: first by taking away +Beausire, and then by speaking of Gilbert." + +"I will be both Gilbert and Beausire to you," said the unknown. + +"Oh!" sighed Oliva. + +"I do not ask you to love me, remember; I only ask you to accept the +life I offer you--that is, the accomplishment of all your desires, +provided occasionally you give way to mine. Just now I have one." + +"What?" + +"That black domino that you see there is a German of my acquaintance, +who refused to come to the ball with me, saying he was not well; and now +he is here, and a lady with him." + +"Who is she?" + +"I do not know. We will approach them; I will pretend that you are a +German, and you must not speak, for fear of being found out. Now, +pretend to point him out to me with the end of your fan." + +"Like that?" + +"Yes; very well. Now whisper to me." + +Oliva obeyed with a docility which charmed her companion. + +The black domino, who had his back turned to them, did not see all this; +but his companion did. "Take care, monseigneur," said she; "there are +two masks watching us." + +"Oh, do not be afraid, countess; they cannot recognize us. Do not mind +them; but let me assure you that never form was so enchanting as yours, +never eyes so brilliant, never----" + +"Hush! the spies approach." + +"Spies!" said the cardinal, uneasily. "Disguise your voice if they make +you speak, and I will do the same." + +Oliva and her blue domino indeed approached; he came up to the cardinal, +and said, "Mask----" + +"What do you want?" said the cardinal, in a voice as unlike his natural +one as he could make it. + +"The lady who accompanies me desires me to ask you some questions." + +"Ask," said M. de Rohan. + +"Are they very indiscreet?" said Madame de la Motte. + +"So indiscreet that you shall not hear them;" and he pretended to +whisper to Oliva, who made a sign in answer. Then, in irreproachable +German, he said to the cardinal, "Monseigneur, are you in love with the +lady who accompanies you?" + +The cardinal trembled. + +"Did you say monseigneur?" he asked. + +"Yes." + +"You deceive yourself; I am not the person you think." + +"Oh, M. le Cardinal, do not deny it; it is useless. If even I did not +know you, the lady who accompanies me assures me she knows you +perfectly." And he again whispered to Oliva, "Make a sign for 'yes.' Do +so each time I press your arm." + +She did so. + +"You astonish me!" said the cardinal. "Who is this lady?" + +"Oh, monseigneur, I thought you would have known; she soon knew you. It +is true that jealousy----" + +"Madame is jealous of me!" cried the cardinal. + +"We do not say that," replied the unknown, rather haughtily. + +"What are you talking about?" asked Madame de la Motte, who did not like +this conversation in German. + +"Oh, nothing, nothing!" + +"Madame," said the cardinal to Oliva, "one word from you, and I promise +to recognize you instantly." + +Oliva, who saw him speaking to her, but did not understand a word, +whispered to her companion. + +All this mystery piqued the cardinal. + +"One single German word," he said, "could not much compromise madame." + +The blue domino again pretended to take her orders, and then said: "M. +le Cardinal, these are the words of madame, 'He whose thoughts are not +ever on the alert, he whose imagination does not perpetually suggest the +presence of the loved one, does not love, however much he may pretend +it.'" + +The cardinal appeared struck with these words; all his attitude +expressed surprise, respect and devotion. + +"It is impossible!" he murmured in French. + +"What is impossible?" asked Madame de la Motte, who seized eagerly on +these few words she could understand. + +"Nothing, madame, nothing!" + +"Really, cardinal, you are making me play but a sorry part," said she, +withdrawing her arm angrily. + +He did not even seem to notice it, so great was his preoccupation with +the German lady. + +"Madame," said he to her, "these words that your companion has repeated +to me in your name are some German lines which I read in a house which +is perhaps known to you." + +The blue domino pressed Oliva's arm, who thereupon bowed an assent. + +"That house," said the cardinal, hesitatingly, "is it not called +Schoenbrunn?" + +She again made a gesture of assent. + +"They were written on a table of cherry-wood, with a gold bodkin, by an +august hand." + +"Yes," bowed Oliva again. + +The cardinal stopped, he tottered, and leaned against a pillar for +support. Madame de la Motte stood by, watching this strange scene. Then +the cardinal, touching the blue domino, said: "This is the conclusion of +the quotation--'But he who sees everywhere the loved object, who +recognizes her by a flower, by a perfume, through the thickest veils, he +can still be silent--his voice is in his heart--and if one other +understands him, he is happy.'" + +"Oh, they are speaking German here," said a young voice from an +approaching group; "let us listen. Do you speak German, marshal?" + +"No, monseigneur." + +"You, Charny?" + +"Yes, your highness." + +"Here is M. le Comte d'Artois," said Oliva softly to her companion. + +A crowd followed them, and many were passing round. + +"Take care, gentlemen!" said the blue domino. + +"Monsieur," replied the prince, "the people are pushing us." + +At this moment some invisible hand pulled Oliva's hood from behind, and +her mask fell. She replaced it as quickly as possible, with a +half-terrified cry, which was echoed by one of affected disquiet from +her companion. + +Several others around looked no little bewildered. + +The cardinal nearly fainted, and Madame de la Motte supported him. The +pressure of the crowd separated the Comte d'Artois and his party from +them. Then the blue domino approached the cardinal, and said: + +"This is indeed an irreparable misfortune; this lady's honor is at your +mercy." + +"Oh, monsieur!" murmured the cardinal, who was much agitated. + +"Let us go quickly," said the blue domino to Oliva; and they moved away. + +"Now I know," said Madame de la Motte to herself, "what the cardinal +meant was impossible: he took this woman for the queen. But what an +effect it has had on him?" + +"Would you like to leave the ball?" asked M. de Rohan, in a feeble +voice. + +"As you please, monseigneur," replied Jeanne. + +"I do not find much interest here, do you?" + +"None at all." + +They pushed their way through the crowd. The cardinal, who was tall, +looked all around him, to try and see again the vision which had +disappeared; but blue, white, and gray dominoes were everywhere, and he +could distinguish no one. They had been some time in the carriage, and +he had not yet spoken to Jeanne. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +THE EXAMINATION. + + +At last Jeanne said, "Where is this carriage taking me to, cardinal?" + +"Back to your own house, countess." + +"My house--in the faubourg?" + +"Yes, countess. A very small house to contain so many charms." + +They soon stopped. Jeanne alighted, and he was preparing to follow her, +but she stopped him, and said, "It is very late, cardinal." + +"Adieu, then," said he; and he drove away, absorbed with the scene at +the ball. + +Jeanne entered alone into her new house. Six lackeys waited for her in +the hall, and she looked at them as calmly as though she had been used +to it all her life. + +"Where are my femmes de chambre?" said she. + +One of the men advanced respectfully. + +"Two women wait for madame in her room." + +"Call them." The valet obeyed. + +"Where do you usually sleep?" said Jeanne to them, when they entered. + +"We have no place as yet," said one of them; "we can sleep wherever +madame pleases." + +"Where are the keys?" + +"Here, madame." + +"Well, for this night you shall sleep out of the house." + +The women looked at her in surprise. + +"You have some place to go to?" said Jeanne. + +"Certainly, madame; but it is late. Still, if madame wishes----" + +"And these men can accompany you," she continued, dismissing the valets +also, who seemed rather pleased. + +"When shall we return?" asked one of them. + +"To-morrow at noon." + +They seemed more astonished than ever, but Jeanne looked so imperious +that they did not speak. + +"Is there any one else here?" she asked. + +"No one, madame. It is impossible for madame to remain like this; surely +you must have some one here." + +"I want no one." + +"The house might take fire; madame might be ill." + +"Go, all of you," said Jeanne; "and take this," added she, giving them +money from her purse. + +They all thanked her, and disappeared, saying to each other that they +had found a strange mistress. + +Jeanne then locked the doors and said triumphantly, "Now I am alone +here, in my own house." She now commenced an examination, admiring each +thing individually. The ground-floor contained a bath-room, dining-room, +three drawing-rooms, and two morning-rooms. The furniture of these rooms +was handsome, though not new. It pleased Jeanne better than if it had +been furnished expressly for her. All the rich antiques disdained by +fashionable ladies, the marvelous pieces of carved ebony, the glass +lusters, the gothic clocks; chefs-d'oeuvre of carving and enamel, the +screens with embroidered Chinese figures, and the immense vases, threw +Jeanne into indescribable raptures. Here on a chimney-piece two gilded +tritons were bearing branches of coral, upon which were hung jeweled +fruits. In another place, on a gilded console table, was an enormous +elephant, with sapphires hanging from his ears, supporting a tower +filled with little bottles of scent. Books in gilt bindings were on +rosewood shelves. One room was hung with Gobelin tapestry, and furnished +in gray and gold; another, paneled in paintings by Vernet. The small +rooms contained pictures. The whole was evidently the collection of +years. + +Jeanne examined it all with delight. Then, as her domino was +inconvenient, she went into her room to put on a dressing-gown of wadded +silk; and, secure of meeting no one, she wandered from room to room, +continuing her examination, till at last, her light nearly exhausted, +she returned to her bedroom, which was hung with embroidered blue satin. + +She had seen everything, and admired everything: there only remained +herself to be admired; and she thought, as she undressed before the long +mirror, that she was not the object least worthy of admiration in the +place. At last, wearied out with pleasurable excitement, she went to +bed, and soon sank to sleep. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + +THE ACADEMY OF M. BEAUSIRE. + + +Beausire had followed the advice of the blue domino, and repaired to the +place of meeting in the Rue du Pot au Fer. He was frightened by the +apparent exclusion which his companions had seemed to meditate, in not +communicating their plans to him; and he knew none of them to be +particularly scrupulous. He had acquired the reputation among them of a +man to be feared; it was not wonderful, as he had been a soldier, and +worn a uniform. He knew how to draw his sword, and he had a habit of +looking very fierce at the slightest word that displeased him--all +things which appear rather terrifying to those of doubtful courage, +especially when they have reason to shun the eclat of a duel and the +curiosity of the police. + +Beausire counted, therefore, on revenging himself by frightening them a +little. It was a long way, but Beausire had money in his pocket; so he +took a coach, promised the driver an extra franc to go fast, and, to +make up for the absence of his sword, he assumed as fierce a look as he +could on entering the room. + +It was a large hall, full of tables, at which were seated about twenty +players, drinking beer or syrups, and smiling now and then on some +highly rouged women who sat near them. They were playing faro at the +principal table, but the stakes were low, and the excitement small in +proportion. + +On the entrance of the domino, all the women smiled on him, half in +raillery, and half in coquetry, for M. Beausire was a favorite among +them. However, he advanced in silence to the table without noticing any +one. + +One of the players, who was a good-humored looking fellow, said to him, +"Corbleu, chevalier, you come from the ball looking out of sorts." + +"Is your domino uncomfortable?" said another. + +"No, it is not my domino," replied Beausire, gruffly. + +"Oh!" said the banker, "he has been unfaithful to us; he has been +playing somewhere else and lost." + +"It is not I who am unfaithful to my friends; I am incapable of it. I +leave that to others." + +"What do you mean, dear chevalier?" + +"I know what I mean," replied he; "I thought I had friends here." + +"Certainly," replied several voices. + +"Well, I was deceived." + +"How?" + +"You plan things without me." + +Several of the members began to protest it was not true. + +"I know better," said Beausire; "and these false friends shall be +punished." He put his hand to his side to feel for his sword, but, as it +was not there, he only shook his pocket, and the gold rattled. + +"Oh, oh!" said the banker, "M. Beausire has not lost. Come, will you not +play?" + +"Thanks," said Beausire; "I will keep what I have got." + +"Only one louis," said one of the women, caressingly. + +"I do not play for miserable louis," said he. "We play for millions here +to-night--yes, gentlemen, millions." + +He had worked himself up into a great state of excitement, and was +losing sight of all prudence, when a blow from behind made him turn, and +he saw by him a great dark figure, stiff and upright, and with two +shining black eyes. He met Beausire's furious glance with a ceremonious +bow. + +"The Portuguese!" said Beausire. + +"The Portuguese!" echoed the ladies, who abandoned Beausire to crowd +round the newcomer, he being their especial pet, as he was in the habit +of bringing them sweetmeats, sometimes wrapped up in notes of forty or +fifty francs. This man was one of the twelve associates. + +He was used as a bait at their society. It was agreed that he should +lose a hundred louis a week as an inducement to allure strangers to +play. He was, therefore, considered a useful man. He was also an +agreeable one, and was held in much consideration. + +Beausire became silent on seeing him. + +The Portuguese took his place at the table, and put down twenty louis, +which he soon lost, thereby making some of those who had been stripped +before forget their losses. + +All the money received by the banker was dropped into a well under the +table, and he was forbidden to wear long sleeves, lest he should conceal +any within them, although the other members generally took the liberty +of searching both sleeves and pockets before they left. + +Several now put on their great-coats and took leave--some happy enough +to escort the ladies. + +A few, however, after making a feint to go, returned into another room; +and here the twelve associates soon found themselves united. + +"Now we will have an explanation," said Beausire. + +"Do not speak so loud," said the Portuguese in good French. Then they +examined the doors and windows to make certain that all was secure, drew +the curtain close, and seated themselves. + +"I have a communication to make," said the Portuguese; "it was lucky, +however, I arrived when I did, for M. Beausire was seized this evening +with a most imprudent flow of eloquence." + +Beausire tried to speak. + +"Silence," said the Portuguese; "let us not waste words: you know my +ideas beforehand very well; you are a man of talent, and may have +guessed it, but I think 'amour propre' should never overcome +self-interest." + +"I do not understand." + +"M. Beausire hoped to be the first to make this proposition." + +"What proposition?" cried the rest. + +"Concerning the two million francs," said Beausire. + +"Two million francs!" cried they. + +"First," said the Portuguese, "you exaggerate; it is not as much as +that." + +"We do not know what you are talking of," said the banker. + +"But are not the less all ears," said another. + +The Portuguese drank off a large glass of Orgeat, and then began: "The +necklace is not worth more than 1,500,000 francs." + +"Oh, then it concerns a necklace?" said Beausire. + +"Yes, did you not mean the same thing?" + +"Perhaps." + +"Now he is going to be discreet after his former folly," said the +Portuguese; "but time presses, for the ambassador will arrive in eight +days." + +"This matter becomes complicated," said the banker; "a necklace! +1,500,000 francs! and an ambassador! Pray explain." + +"In a few words," said the Portuguese; "MM. Boehmer and Bossange +offered to the queen a necklace worth that sum. She refused it, and now +they do not know what to do with it, for none but a royal fortune could +buy it. Well, I have found the royal personage who will buy this +necklace, and obtain the custody of it from MM. Boehmer and Bossange; +and that is my gracious sovereign the Queen of Portugal." + +"We understand it less than ever," said the associates. + +"And I not at all," thought Beausire; then he said aloud, "Explain +yourself clearly, dear M. Manoel; our private differences should give +place to the public interests. I acknowledge you the author of the idea, +and renounce all right to its paternity. Therefore speak on." + +"Willingly," said Manoel, drinking a second glass of Orgeat; "the +embassy is vacant just now; the new ambassador, M. de Souza, will not +arrive for a week. Well, he may arrive sooner." + +They all looked stupefied but Beausire, who said, "Do you not see some +ambassador, whether true or false?" + +"Exactly," said Manoel; "and the ambassador who arrives may desire to +buy this necklace for the Queen of Portugal, and treat accordingly with +MM. Boehmer and Bossange; that is all." + +"But," said the banker, "they would not allow such a necklace to pass +into the hands of M. de Souza himself without good security." + +"Oh, I have thought of all that; the ambassador's house is vacant, with +the exception of the chancellor, who is a Frenchman, and speaks bad +Portuguese, and who is therefore delighted when the Portuguese speak +French to him, as he does not then betray himself; but who likes to +speak Portuguese to the French, as it sounds grand. Well, we will +present ourselves to this chancellor with all the appearances of a new +legation." + +"Appearances are something," said Beausire: "but the credentials are +much more." + +"We will have them," replied Manoel. + +"No one can deny that Don Manoel is an invaluable man," said Beausire. + +"Well, our appearances, and the credentials having convinced the +chancellor of our identity, we will establish ourselves at the house." + +"That is pretty bold," said Beausire. + +"It is necessary, and quite easy," said Manoel; "the chancellor will be +convinced, and if he should afterwards become less credulous, we will +dismiss him. I believe an ambassador has the right to change his +chancellor." + +"Certainly." + +"Then, when we are masters of the hotel, our first operation will be to +wait on MM. Boehmer and Bossange." + +"But you forget one thing," said Beausire; "our first act should be to +ask an audience of the king, and then we should break down. The famous +Riza Bey, who was presented to Louis XIV. as ambassador from the Shah of +Persia, spoke Persian at least, and there were no savants here capable +of knowing how well; but we should be found out at once. We should be +told directly that our Portuguese was remarkably French, and we should +be sent to the Bastile." + +"We will escape this danger by remaining quietly at home." + +"Then M. Boehmer will not believe in our ambassadorship." + +"M. Boehmer will be told that we are sent merely to buy the necklace. +We will show him our order to do this, as we shall before have shown it +to the chancellor, only we must try to avoid showing it to the +ministers, for they are suspicious, and might find a host of little +flaws." + +"Oh yes," cried they all, "let us avoid the ministers." + +"But if MM. Boehmer and Bossange require money on account?" asked +Beausire. + +"That would complicate the affair, certainly." + +"For," continued Beausire, "it is usual for an ambassador to have +letters of credit, at least, if not ready money; and here we should +fail." + +"You find plenty of reasons why it should fail," said Manoel, "but +nothing to make it succeed." + +"It is because I wish it to succeed that I speak of the difficulties. +But stop--a thought strikes me: in every ambassador's house there is a +strong box." + +"Yes; but it may be empty." + +"Well! if it be, we must ask MM. Boehmer and Bossange who are their +correspondents at Lisbon, and we will sign and stamp for them letters of +credit for the sum demanded." + +"That will do," said Manoel, "I was engrossed with the grand idea, but +had not sufficiently considered the details." + +"Now, let us think of arranging the parts," said Beausire. "Don Manoel +will be ambassador." + +"Certainly," they all said. + +"And M. Beausire my secretary and interpreter," said Manoel. + +"Why so?" said Beausire, rather uneasily. + +"I am M. de Souza, and must not speak a word of French; for I know that +that gentleman speaks nothing but Portuguese, and very little of that. +You, on the contrary, M. Beausire, who have traveled, and have acquired +French habits, who speak Portuguese also----" + +"Very badly," said Beausire. + +"Quite enough to deceive a Parisian; and then, you know, the most useful +agents will have the largest shares." + +"Assuredly," said the others. + +"Well! it is agreed; I am secretary and interpreter. Then as to the +money?" + +"It shall be divided into twelve parts; but I as ambassador and author +of the scheme shall have a share and a half; M. Beausire the same, as +interpreter, and because he partly shared my idea; and also a share and +a half to him who sells the jewels." + +"So far, then, it is settled! we will arrange the minor details +to-morrow, for it is very late," said Beausire, who was thinking of +Oliva, left at the ball with the blue domino, towards whom, in spite of +his readiness in giving away louis d'or, he did not feel very friendly. + +"No, no; we will finish at once," said the others. "What is to be +prepared?" + +"A traveling carriage, with the arms of M. de Souza," said Beausire. + +"That would take too long to paint and to dry," said Manoel. + +"Then we must say that the ambassador's carriage broke down on the way, +and he was forced to use that of the secretary: I must have a carriage, +and my arms will do for that. Besides, we will have plenty of bruises +and injuries on the carriage, and especially round the arms, and no one +will think of them." + +"But the rest of the embassy?" + +"We will arrive in the evening; it is the best time to make a debut, and +you shall all follow next day, when we have prepared the way." + +"Very well." + +"But every ambassador, besides a secretary, must have a valet de +chambre. You, captain," said Don Manoel, addressing one of the gang, +"shall take this part." + +The captain bowed. + +"And the money for the purchases?" said Manoel. "I have nothing." + +"I have a little," said Beausire, "but it belongs to my mistress. What +have we in our fund?" + +"Your keys, gentlemen," said the banker. + +Each drew out a key, which opened one of twelve locks in the table; so +that none of these honest associates could open it without all the +others. They went to look. + +"One hundred and ninety-eight louis, besides the reserve fund," said the +banker. + +"Give them to M. Beausire and me. It is not too much," said Manoel. + +"Give us two-thirds, and leave the rest," said Beausire, with a +generosity which won all their hearts. + +Don Manoel and Beausire received, therefore, one hundred and thirty-two +louis and sixty-six remained for the others. + +They then separated, having fixed a rendezvous for the next day. + +Beausire rolled up his domino under his arm, and hastened to the Rue +Dauphine, where he hoped to find Oliva in possession of some new louis +d'or. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + +THE AMBASSADOR. + + +On the evening of the next day a traveling-carriage passed through the +Barriere d'Enfer, so covered with dust and scratches that no one could +discern the arms. The four horses that drew it went at a rapid pace, +until it arrived before an hotel of handsome appearance, in the Rue de +la Jussienne, at the door of which two men, one of whom was in full +dress, were waiting. The carriage entered the courtyard of the hotel, +and one of the persons waiting approached the door, and commenced +speaking in bad Portuguese. + +"Who are you?" said a voice from the inside, speaking the language +perfectly. + +"The unworthy chancellor of the embassy, your excellency." + +"Very well. Mon Dieu! how badly you speak our language, my dear +chancellor! But where are we to go?" + +"This way, monseigneur." + +"This is a poor reception," said Don Manoel, as he got out of the +carriage, leaning on the arms of his secretary and valet. + +"Your excellency must pardon me," said the chancellor, "but the courier +announcing your arrival only reached the hotel at two o'clock to-day. I +was absent on some business, and when I returned, found your +excellency's letter; I have only had time to have the rooms opened and +lighted." + +"Very good." + +"It gives me great pleasure to see the illustrious person of our +ambassador." + +"We desire to keep as quiet as possible," said Don Manoel, "until we +receive further orders, from Lisbon. But pray show me to my room, for I +am dying with fatigue; my secretary will give you all necessary +directions." + +The chancellor bowed respectfully to Beausire, who returned it, and then +said, "We will speak French, sir; I think it will be better for both of +us." + +"Yes," murmured the chancellor, "I shall be more at my ease; for I +confess that my pronunciation----" + +"So I hear," interrupted Beausire. + +"I will take the liberty to say to you, sir, as you seem so amiable, +that I trust M. de Souza will not be annoyed at my speaking such bad +Portuguese." + +"Oh, not at all, as you speak French." + +"French!" cried the chancellor; "I was born in the Rue St. Honore." + +"Oh, that will do," said Beausire. "Your name is Ducorneau, is it not?" + +"Yes, monsieur; rather a lucky one, as it has a Spanish termination. It +is very flattering to me that monsieur knew my name." + +"Oh, you are well known; so well that we did not bring a chancellor from +Lisbon with us." + +"I am very grateful, monsieur; but I think M. de Souza is ringing." + +"Let us go and see." + +They found Manoel attired in a magnificent dressing-gown. Several boxes +and dressing-cases, of rich appearance, were already unpacked and lying +about. + +"Enter," said he to the chancellor. + +"Will his excellency be angry if I answer in French?" said Ducorneau, in +a low voice, to Beausire. + +"Oh, no; I am sure of it." + +M. Ducorneau, therefore, paid the compliments in French. + +"Oh, it is very convenient that you speak French so well, M. Ducorno," +said the ambassador. + +"He takes me for a Portuguese," thought the chancellor, with joy. + +"Now," said Manoel, "can I have supper?" + +"Certainly, your excellency. The Palais Royal is only two steps from +here, and I know an excellent restaurant, from which your excellency can +have a good supper in a very short time." + +"Order it in your own name, if you please, M. Ducorno." + +"And if your excellency will permit me, I will add to it some bottles of +capital wine." + +"Oh, our chancellor keeps a good cellar, then?" said Beausire, jokingly. + +"It is my only luxury," replied he. And now, by the wax-lights, they +could remark his rather red nose and puffed cheeks. + +"Very well, M. Ducorno; bring your wine, and sup with us." + +"Such an honor----" + +"Oh, no etiquette to-night; I am only a traveler. I shall not begin to +be ambassador till to-morrow; then we will talk of business." + +"Monseigneur will permit me to arrange my toilet." + +"Oh, you are superb already," said Beausire. + +"Yes, but this is a reception dress, and not a gala one." + +"Remain as you are, monsieur, and give the time to expediting our +supper." + +Ducorneau, delighted, left the room to fulfil his orders. Then the three +rogues, left together, began to discuss their affairs. + +"Does this chancellor sleep here?" said Manoel. + +"No; the fellow has a good cellar, and, I doubt not, a snug lodging +somewhere or other. He is an old bachelor." + +"There is a Suisse." + +"We must get rid of him; and there are a few valets, whom we must +replace to-morrow with our own friends." + +"Who is in the kitchen department?" + +"No one. The old ambassador did not live here; he had a house in the +town." + +"What about the strong-box?" + +"Oh, on that point we must consult the chancellor; it is a delicate +matter." + +"I charge myself with it," said Beausire; "we are already capital +friends." + +"Hush! here he comes." + +Ducorneau entered, quite out of breath. He had ordered the supper, and +fetched six bottles of wine from his cellar, and was looking quite +radiant at the thoughts of the coming repast. + +"Will your excellency descend to the dining-room?" + +"No, we will sup up here." + +"Here is the wine, then," said Ducorneau. + +"It sparkles like rubies," said Beausire, holding it to the light. + +"Sit down, M. Ducorneau; my valet will wait upon us. What day did the +last despatches arrive?" + +"Immediately after the departure of your excellency's predecessor." + +"Are the affairs of the embassy in good order?" + +"Oh yes, monseigneur." + +"No money difficulties? no debts?" + +"Not that I know of." + +"Because, if there are, we must begin by paying them." + +"Oh, your excellency will have nothing of that sort to do. All the +accounts were paid up three weeks ago; and the day after the departure +of the late ambassador one hundred thousand francs arrived here." + +"One hundred thousand francs?" said Beausire. + +"Yes, in gold." + +"So," said Beausire, "the box contains----" + +"100,380 francs, monsieur." + +"It is not much," said Manoel, coldly; "but, happily, her majesty has +placed funds at my disposal. I told you," continued he, turning to +Beausire, "that I thought we should need it at Paris." + +"Your excellency took wise precautions," said Beausire, respectfully. + +From the time of this important communication the hilarity of the party +went on increasing. A good supper, consisting of salmon, crabs, and +sweets, contributed to their satisfaction. Ducorneau, quite at his ease, +ate enough for ten, and did not fail, either, in demonstrating that a +Parisian could do honor to port and sherry. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + +MESSRS. BOEHMER AND BOSSANGE. + + +M. Ducorneau blessed heaven repeatedly for sending an ambassador who +preferred his speaking French to Portuguese, and liked Portuguese wines +better than French ones. At last, Manoel expressed a wish to go to bed; +Ducorneau rose and left the room, although, it must be confessed, he +found some difficulty in the operation. + +It was now the turn of the valet to have supper, which he did with great +good-will. + +The next day the hotel assumed an air of business; all the bureaux were +opened, and everything indicated life in the recently deserted place. + +The report soon spread in the neighborhood that some great personages +had arrived from Portugal during the night. This, although what was +wanted to give them credit, could not but inspire the conspirators with +some alarm; for the police had quick ears and Argus eyes. Still, they +thought that by audacity, combined with prudence, they might easily keep +them from becoming suspicious, until they had had time to complete their +business. + +Two carriages containing the other nine associates arrived, as agreed +upon, and they were soon installed in their different departments. + +Beausire induced Ducorneau himself to dismiss the porter, on the ground +that he did not speak Portuguese. They were, therefore, in a good +situation to keep off all unwelcome visitors. + +About noon, Don Manoel, gaily dressed, got into a carriage, which they +had hired for five hundred francs a month, and set out, with his +secretary, for the residence of MM. Boehmer and Bossange. + +Their servant knocked at the door, which was secured with immense locks, +and studded with great nails, like that of a prison. A servant opened +it. "His Excellency the Ambassador of Portugal desires to speak to MM. +Boehmer and Bossange." + +They got out, and M. Boehmer came to them in a few moments, and +received them with a profusion of polite speeches, but, seeing that the +ambassador did not deign even a smile in reply, looked somewhat +disconcerted. + +"His excellency does not speak or understand French, sir, and you must +communicate to him through me, if you do not speak Portuguese," said +Beausire. + +"No, monsieur, I do not." + +Manoel then spoke in Portuguese to Beausire, who, turning to M. +Boehmer, said: + +"His excellency M. le Comte de Souza, ambassador from the Queen of +Portugal, desires me to ask you if you have not in your possession a +beautiful diamond necklace?" + +Boehmer looked at him scrutinizingly. + +"A beautiful diamond necklace!" repeated he. + +"The one which you offered to the Queen of France, and which our +gracious queen has heard of." + +"Monsieur," said Boehmer, "is an officer of the ambassador's?" + +"His secretary, monsieur." + +Don Manoel was seated with the air of a great man, looking carelessly at +the pictures which hung round the room. + +"M. Boehmer," said Beausire abruptly, "do you not understand what I am +saying to you?" + +"Yes, sir," answered Boehmer, rather startled by the manner of the +secretary. + +"Because I see his excellency is becoming impatient." + +"Excuse me, sir," said Boehmer, coloring, "but I dare not show the +necklace, except in my partner's presence." + +"Well, sir, call your partner." + +Don Manoel approached Beausire, and began again talking to him in +Portuguese. + +"His excellency says," interpreted he, "that he has already waited ten +minutes, and that he is not accustomed to be kept waiting." + +Boehmer bowed, and rang the bell. A minute afterwards M. Bossange +entered. + +Boehmer explained the matter to him, who, after looking scrutinizingly +at the Portuguese, left the room with a key given him by his partner, +and soon returned with a case in one hand; the other was hidden under +his coat, but they distinctly saw the shining barrel of a pistol. + +"However well we may look," said Manoel gravely, in Portuguese, to his +companion, "these gentlemen seem to take us for pickpockets rather than +ambassadors." + +M. Bossange advanced, and put the case into the hands of Manoel. He +opened it, and then cried angrily to his secretary: + +"Monsieur, tell these gentlemen that they tire my patience! I ask for a +diamond necklace, and they bring me paste. Tell them I will complain to +the ministers, and will have them thrown into the Bastile, impertinent +people, who play tricks upon an ambassador." And he threw down the case +in such a passion that they did not need an interpretation of his +speech, but began explaining most humbly that in France it was usual to +show only the models of diamonds, so as not to tempt people to robbery, +were they so inclined. + +Manoel, with an indignant gesture, walked towards the door. + +"His excellency desires me to tell you," said Beausire, "that he is +sorry that people like MM. Boehmer and Bossange, jewelers to the +queen, should not know better how to distinguish an ambassador from a +rogue, and that he will return to his hotel." + +The jewelers began to utter most respectful protestations, but Manoel +walked on, and Beausire followed him. + +"To the ambassador's hotel, Rue de la Jussienne," said Beausire to the +footman. + +"A lost business," groaned the valet, as they set off. + +"On the contrary, a safe one; in an hour these men will follow us." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + +THE AMBASSADOR'S HOTEL. + + +On returning to their hotel, these gentlemen found Ducorneau dining +quietly in his bureau. Beausire desired him, when he had finished, to go +up and see the ambassador, and added: + +"You will see, my dear chancellor, that M. de Souza is not an ordinary +man." + +"I see that already." + +"His excellency," continued Beausire, "wishes to take a distinguished +position in Paris, and this residence will be insupportable to him. He +will require a private house." + +"That will complicate the diplomatic business," said Ducorneau; "we +shall have to go so often to obtain his signature." + +"His excellency will give you a carriage, M. Ducorneau." + +"A carriage for me!" + +"Certainly; every chancellor of a great ambassador should have a +carriage. But we will talk of that afterwards. His excellency wishes to +know where the strong-box is." + +"Up-stairs, close to his own room." + +"So far from you?" + +"For greater safety, sir. Robbers would find greater difficulty in +penetrating there, than here on the ground-floor." + +"Robbers!" said Beausire, disdainfully, "for such a little sum?" + +"One hundred thousand francs!" said Ducorneau. "It is easy to see M. de +Souza is rich, but there is not more kept in any ambassador's house in +Europe." + +"Shall we examine it now?" said Beausire. "I am rather in a hurry to +attend to my own business." + +"Immediately, monsieur." + +They went up and the money was found all right. + +Ducorneau gave his key to Beausire, who kept it for some time, +pretending to admire its ingenious construction, while he cleverly took +the impression of it in wax. Then he gave it back, saying, "Keep it, M. +Ducorneau; it is better in your hands than in mine. Let us now go to the +ambassador." + +They found Don Manoel drinking chocolate, and apparently much occupied +with a paper covered with ciphers. + +"Do you understand the ciphers used in the late correspondence?" said he +to the chancellor. + +"No, your excellency." + +"I should wish you to learn it; it will save me a great deal of trouble. +What about the box?" said he to Beausire. + +"Perfectly correct, like everything else with which M. Ducorneau has any +connection." + +"Well, sit down, M. Ducorneau; I want you to give me some information. +Do you know any honest jewelers in Paris?" + +"There are MM. Boehmer and Bossange, jewelers to the queen." + +"But they are precisely the people I do not wish to employ. I have just +quitted them, never to return." + +"Have they had the misfortune to displease your excellency?" + +"Seriously, M. Ducorneau." + +"Oh, if I dared speak." + +"You may." + +"I would ask how these people, who bear so high a name----" + +"They are perfect Jews, M. Ducorneau, and their bad behavior will make +them lose a million or two. I was sent by her gracious majesty to make +an offer to them for a diamond necklace." + +"Oh! the famous necklace which had been ordered by the late king for +Madame Dubarry?" + +"You are a valuable man, sir--you know everything. Well, now, I shall +not buy it." + +"Shall I interfere?" + +"M. Ducorneau!" + +"Oh, only as a diplomatic affair." + +"If you knew them at all." + +"Bossange is a distant relation of mine." + +At this moment a valet opened the door, and announced MM. Boehmer and +Bossange. Don Manoel rose quickly, and said in any angry tone, "Send +those people away!" + +The valet made a step forward. "No; you do it," said he to his +secretary. + +"I beg you to allow me," said Ducorneau; and he advanced to meet them. + +"There! this affair is destined to fail," said Manoel. + +"No; Ducorneau will arrange it." + +"I am convinced he will embroil it. You said at the jewelers that I did +not understand French, and Ducorneau will let out that I do." + +"I will go," said Beausire. + +"Perhaps that is equally dangerous." + +"Oh, no; only leave me to act." + +Beausire went down. Ducorneau had found the jewelers much more disposed +to politeness and confidence since entering the hotel; also, on seeing +an old friend, Bossange was delighted. + +"You here!" said he; and he approached to embrace him. + +"Ah! you are very amiable to-day, my rich cousin," said Ducorneau. + +"Oh," said Bossange, "if we have been a little separated, forgive, and +render me a service." + +"I came to do it." + +"Thanks. You are, then, attached to the embassy?" + +"Yes." + +"I want advice." + +"On what?" + +"On this embassy." + +"I am the chancellor." + +"That is well; but about the ambassador?" + +"I come to you, on his behalf, to tell you that he begs you to leave his +hotel as quickly as possible." + +The two jewelers looked at each other, disconcerted. + +"Because," continued Ducorneau, "it seems you have been uncivil to him." + +"But listen----" + +"It is useless," said Beausire, who suddenly appeared; "his excellency +told you to dismiss them--do it." + +"But, monsieur----" + +"I cannot listen," said Beausire. + +The chancellor took his relation by the shoulder, and pushed him out, +saying, "You have spoiled your fortune." + +"Mon Dieu! how susceptible these foreigners are!" + +"When one is called Souza, and has nine hundred thousand francs a year, +one has a right to be anything," said Ducorneau. + +"Ah!" sighed Bossange, "I told you, Boehmer, you were too stiff about +it." + +"Well," replied the obstinate German, "at least, if we do not get his +money, he will not get our necklace." + +Ducorneau laughed. "You do not understand either a Portuguese or an +ambassador, bourgeois that you are. I will tell you what they are: one +ambassador, M. de Potemkin, bought every year for his queen, on the +first of January, a basket of cherries which cost one hundred thousand +crowns--one thousand francs a cherry. Well, M. de Souza will buy up the +mines of Brazil till he finds a diamond as big as all yours put +together. If it cost him twenty years of his income, what does he +care?--he has no children." + +And he was going to shut the door, when Bossange said: + +"Arrange this affair, and you shall have----" + +"I am incorruptible," said he, and closed the door. + +That evening the ambassador received this letter: + + "MONSEIGNEUR,--A man who waits for your orders, and desires to + present you our respectful excuses, is at the door of your hotel, + and at a word from your excellency he will place in the hands of + one of your people the necklace of which you did us the honor to + speak. Deign to receive, monseigneur, the assurances of our most + profound respect. + + "BOEHMER AND BOSSANGE." + +"Well," said Manoel, on reading this note, "the necklace is ours." + +"Not so," said Beausire; "it will only be ours when we have bought it. +We must buy it; but remember, your excellency does not know French." + +"Yes, I know; but this chancellor?" + +"Oh, I will send him away on some diplomatic mission." + +"You are wrong; he will be our security with these men." + +"But he will say that you know French." + +"No, he will not; I will tell him not to do so." + +"Very well, then; we will have up the man." + +The man was introduced: it was Boehmer himself, who made many bows and +excuses, and offered the necklace for examination. + +"Sit down," said Beausire; "his excellency pardons you." + +"Oh, how much trouble to sell!" sighed Boehmer. + +"How much trouble to steal!" thought Beausire. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + +THE BARGAIN. + + +Then the ambassador consented to examine the necklace in detail. M. +Boehmer showed each individual beauty. + +"On the whole," said Beausire, interpreting for Manoel, "his excellency +sees nothing to complain of in the necklace, but there are ten of the +diamonds rather spotted." + +"Oh!" said Boehmer. + +"His excellency," interrupted Beausire, "understands diamonds perfectly. +The Portuguese nobility play with the diamonds of Brazil, as children do +here with glass beads." + +"Whatever it may be, however," said Boehmer, "this necklace is the +finest collection of diamonds in all Europe." + +"That is true," said Manoel. + +Then Beausire went on: "Well, M. Boehmer, her majesty the Queen of +Portugal has heard of this necklace, and has given M. de Souza a +commission to buy it, if he approved of the diamonds, which he does. +Now, what is the price?" + +"1,600,000 francs." + +Beausire repeated this to the ambassador. + +"It is 100,000 francs too much," replied Manoel. + +"Monseigneur," replied the jeweler, "one cannot fix the exact price of +the diamonds on a thing like this. It has been necessary, in making this +collection, to undertake voyages, and make searches and inquiries which +no one would believe but myself." + +"100,000 francs too dear," repeated Manoel. + +"And if his excellency says this," said Beausire, "it must be his firm +conviction, for he never bargains." + +Boehmer was shaken. Nothing reassures a suspicious merchant so much as +a customer who beats down the price. However, he said, after a minute's +thought, "I cannot consent to a deduction which will make all the +difference of loss or profit to myself and my partner." + +Don Manoel, after hearing this translated, rose, and Beausire returned +the case to the jeweler. + +"I will, however, speak to M. Bossange about it," contained Boehmer. +"I am to understand that his excellency offers 1,500,000 francs for the +necklace." + +"Yes, he never draws back from what he has said." + +"But, monsieur, you understand that I must consult with my partner." + +"Certainly, M. Boehmer." + +"Certainly," repeated Don Manoel, after hearing this translated; "but I +must have a speedy answer." + +"Well, monseigneur, if my partner will accept the price, I will." + +"Good." + +"It then only remains, excepting the consent of M. Bossange, to settle +the mode of payment." + +"There will be no difficulty about that," said Beausire. "How do you +wish to be paid?" + +"Oh," said Boehmer, laughing, "if ready money be possible----" + +"What do you call ready money?" said Beausire coldly. + +"Oh, I know no one has a million and a half of francs ready to pay +down," said Boehmer, sighing. + +"Certainly not." + +"Still, I cannot consent to dispense with some ready money." + +"That is but reasonable." Then, turning to Manoel: "How much will your +excellency pay down to M. Boehmer?" + +"100,000 francs." Beausire repeated this. + +"And when the remainder?" asked Boehmer. + +"When we shall have had time to send to Lisbon." + +"Oh!" said Boehmer, "we have a correspondent there, and by writing to +him----" + +"Yes," said Beausire, laughing ironically, "write to him, and ask if M. +de Souza is solvent, and if her majesty be good for 1,400,000 francs." + +"We cannot, sir, let this necklace leave France forever without +informing the queen; and our respect and loyalty demand that we should +once more give her the refusal of it." + +"It is just," said Manoel, with dignity. "I should wish a Portuguese +merchant to act in the same way." + +"I am very happy that monseigneur approves of my conduct. Then all is +settled, subject only to the consent of M. Bossange, and the reiterated +refusal of her majesty. I ask three days to settle these two points." + +"On one side," said Beausire, "100,000 francs down, the necklace to be +placed in my hands, who will accompany you to Lisbon, to the honor of +your correspondents, who are also our bankers. The whole of the money to +be paid in three months." + +"Yes, monseigneur," said Boehmer, bowing. + +Manoel returned it, and the jeweler took leave. + +When they were alone, Manoel said angrily to Beausire, "Please to +explain what the devil you mean by this journey to Portugal? Are you +mad? Why not have the jewels here in exchange for our money?" + +"You think yourself too really ambassador," replied Beausire; "you are +not yet quite M. de Souza to this jeweler." + +"If he had not thought so he would not have treated." + +"Agreed; but every man in possession of 1,500,000 francs holds himself +above all the ambassadors in the world; and every one who gives that +value in exchange for pieces of paper wishes first to know what the +papers are worth." + +"Then you mean to go to Portugal--you, who cannot speak Portuguese +properly? I tell you, you are mad." + +"Not at all; you shall go yourself, if you like." + +"Thank you," said Don Manoel. "There are reasons why I would rather not +return to Portugal." + +"Well, I tell you, M. Boehmer would never give up the diamonds for +mere papers." + +"Papers signed Souza?" + +"I said you thought yourself a real Souza." + +"Better say at once that we have failed," said Manoel. + +"Not at all. Come here, captain," said Beausire to the valet; "you know +what we are talking of?" + +"Yes." + +"You have listened to everything?" + +"Certainly." + +"Very well; do you think I have committed a folly?" + +"I think you perfectly right." + +"Explain why." + +"M. Boehmer would, on the other plan, have been incessantly watching +us, and all connected with us. Now, with the money and the diamonds both +in his hands, he can have no suspicion, but will set out quietly for +Portugal, which, however, he will never reach. Is it not so, M. +Beausire?" + +"Ah, you are a lad of discernment!" + +"Explain your plan," said Manoel. + +"About fifty leagues from here," said Beausire, "this clever fellow here +will come and present two pistols at the heads of our postilions, will +steal from us all we have, including the diamonds, and will leave M. +Boehmer half dead with blows." + +"Oh, I did not understand exactly that," said the valet. "I thought you +would embark for Portugal." + +"And then----" + +"M. Boehmer, like all Germans, will like the sea, and walk on the +deck. One day he may slip and fall over, and the necklace will be +supposed to have perished with him." + +"Oh, I understand," said Manoel. + +"That is lucky at last." + +"Only," replied Manoel, "for stealing diamonds one is simply sent to the +Bastile, but for murder one is hanged." + +"But for stealing diamonds one may be taken; for a little push to M. +Boehmer we should never even be suspected." + +"Well, we will settle all this afterwards," said Beausire. + +"At present let us conduct our business in style, so that they may say, +'If he was not really ambassador, at least he seemed like one.'" + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + +THE JOURNALIST'S HOUSE. + + +It was the day after the agreement with M. Boehmer, and three days +after the ball at the Opera. In the Rue Montorgueil, at the end of a +courtyard, was a high and narrow house. The ground floor was a kind of +shop, and here lived a tolerably well-known journalist. The other +stories were occupied by quiet people, who lived there for cheapness. M. +Reteau, the journalist, published his paper weekly. It was issued on the +day of which we speak; and when M. Reteau rose at eight o'clock, his +servant brought him a copy, still wet from the press. He hastened to +peruse it, with the care which a tender father bestows on the virtues or +failings of his offspring. When he had finished it: + +"Aldegonde," said he to the old woman, "this is a capital number; have +you read it?" + +"Not yet; my soup is not finished." + +"It is excellent," repeated the journalist. + +"Yes," said she; "but do you know what they say of it in the +printing-office?" + +"What?" + +"That you will certainly be sent to the Bastile." + +"Aldegonde," replied Reteau, calmly, "make me a good soup, and do not +meddle with literature." + +"Always the same," said she, "rash and imprudent." + +"I will buy you some buckles with what I make to-day. Have many copies +been sold yet?" + +"No, and I fear my buckles will be but poor. Do you remember the number +against M. de Broglie? We sold one hundred before ten o'clock; therefore +this cannot be as good." + +"Do you know the difference, Aldegonde? Now, instead of attacking an +individual, I attack a body; and instead of a soldier, I attack a +queen." + +"The queen! Oh, then there is no fear; the numbers will sell, and I +shall have my buckles." + +"Some one rings," said Reteau. + +The old woman ran to the shop, and returned a minute after, triumphant. + +"One thousand copies!" said she, "there is an order!" + +"In whose name?" asked Reteau, quickly. + +"I do not know." + +"But I want to know; run and ask." + +"Oh, there is plenty of time; they cannot count a thousand copies in a +minute." + +"Yes, but be quick; ask the servant--is it a servant?" + +"It is a porter." + +"Well, ask him where he is to take them to." + +Aldegonde went, and the man replied that he was to take them to the Rue +Neuve St. Gilles, to the house of the Count de Cagliostro. + +The journalist jumped with delight, and ran to assist in counting off +the numbers. + +They were not long gone when there was another ring. + +"Perhaps that is for another thousand copies," cried Aldegonde. "As it +is against the Austrian, every one will join in the chorus." + +"Hush, hush, Aldegonde! do not speak so loud, but go and see who it is." + +Aldegonde opened the door to a man, who asked if he could speak to the +editor of the paper. + +"What do you want to say to him?" asked Aldegonde, rather suspiciously. + +The man rattled some money in his pocket, and said: + +"I come to pay for the thousand copies sent for by M. le Comte de +Cagliostro." + +"Oh, come in!" + +A young and handsome man, who had advanced just behind him, stopped him +as he was about to shut the door, and followed him in. + +Aldegonde ran to her master. "Come," said she, "here is the money for +the thousand copies." + +He went directly, and the man, taking out a small bag, paid down one +hundred six-franc pieces. + +Reteau counted them and gave a receipt, smiling graciously on the man, +and said, "Tell the Count de Cagliostro that I shall always be at his +orders, and that I can keep a secret." + +"There is no need," replied the man; "M. de Cagliostro is independent. +He does not believe in magnetism, and wishes to make people laugh at M. +Mesmer--that is all." + +"Good!" replied another voice; "we will see if we cannot turn the laugh +against M. de Cagliostro;" and M. Reteau, turning, saw before him the +young man we mentioned. + +His glance was menacing; he had his left hand on the hilt of his sword, +and a stick in his right. + +"What can I do for you, sir?" said Reteau, trembling. + +"You are M. Reteau?" asked the young man. + +"Yes, sir." + +"Journalist, and author of this article?" said the visitor, drawing the +new number from his pocket. + +"Not exactly the author, but the publisher," said Reteau. + +"Very well, that comes to the same thing; for if you had not the +audacity to write it, you have had the baseness to give it publicity. I +say baseness, for, as I am a gentleman, I wish to keep within bounds +even with you. If I expressed all I think, I should say that he who +wrote this article is infamous, and that he who published it is a +villain!" + +"Monsieur!" said Reteau, growing pale. + +"Now listen," continued the young man; "you have received one payment in +money, now you shall have another in caning." + +"Oh!" cried Reteau, "we will see about that." + +"Yes, we will see," said the young man, advancing towards him; but +Reteau was used to these sort of affairs, and knew the conveniences of +his own house. Turning quickly round, he gained a door which shut after +him, and which opened into a passage leading to a gate, through which +there was an exit into the Rue Vieux Augustins. Once there, he was safe; +for in this gate the key was always left, and he could lock it behind +him. + +But this day was an unlucky one for the poor journalist, for, just as he +was about to turn the key, he saw coming towards him another young man, +who, in his agitation, appeared to him like a perfect Hercules. He would +have retreated, but he was now between two fires, as his first opponent +had by this time discovered him, and was advancing upon him. + +"Monsieur, let me pass, if you please," said Reteau to the young man who +guarded the gate. + +"Monsieur," cried the one who followed him, "stop the fellow, I beg!" + +"Do not be afraid, M. de Charny; he shall not pass." + +"M. de Taverney!" cried Charny; for it was really he who was the first +comer. + +Both these young men, on reading the article that morning, had conceived +the same idea, because they were animated with the same sentiments, and, +unknown to each other, had hastened to put it in practise. Each, +however, felt a kind of displeasure at seeing the other, divining a +rival in the man who had the same idea as himself. Thus it was that with +a rather disturbed manner Charny had called out, "You, M. de Taverney!" + +"Even so," replied the other, in the same way; "but it seems I am come +too late, and can only look on, unless you will be kind enough to open +the gate." + +"Oh!" cried Reteau, "do you want to murder me, gentlemen?" + +"No," said Charny, "we do not want to murder you; but first we will ask +a few questions, then we will see the end. You permit me to speak, M. de +Taverney?" + +"Certainly, sir; you have the precedence, having arrived first." + +Charny bowed; then, turning to Reteau, said: + +"You confess, then, that you have published against the queen the +playful little tale, as you call it, which appeared this morning in your +paper?" + +"Monsieur, it is not against the queen." + +"Good! it only wanted that." + +"You are very patient, sir!" cried Philippe, who was boiling with rage +outside the gate. + +"Oh, be easy, sir," replied Charny; "he shall lose nothing by waiting." + +"Yes," murmured Philippe; "but I also am waiting." + +Charny turned again to Reteau. "Etteniotna is Antoinette transposed--oh, +do not lie, sir, or instead of beating, or simply killing you, I shall +burn you alive! But tell me if you are the sole author of this?" + +"I am not an informer," said Reteau. + +"Very well; that means that you have an accomplice; and, first, the man +who bought a thousand copies of this infamy, the Count de Cagliostro; +but he shall pay for his share, when you have paid for yours." + +"Monsieur, I do not accuse him," said Reteau, who feared that he should +encounter the anger of Cagliostro after he had done with these two. + +Charny raised his cane. + +"Oh, if I had a sword!" cried Reteau. + +"M. Philippe, will you lend your sword to this man?" + +"No, M. de Charny, I cannot lend my sword to a man like that; but I will +lend you my cane, if yours does not suffice." + +"Corbleu! a cane!" cried Reteau. "Do you know that I am a gentleman?" + +"Then lend me your sword, M. de Taverney; he shall have mine, and I will +never touch it again!" cried Charny. + +Philippe unsheathed his sword, and passed it through the railings. + +"Now," said Charny, throwing down his sword at the feet of Reteau, "you +call yourself a gentleman, and you write such infamies against the Queen +of France; pick up that sword, and let us see what kind of a gentleman +you are." + +But Reteau did not stir; he seemed as afraid of the sword at his feet as +he had been of the uplifted cane. + +"Morbleu!" cried Philippe, "open the gate to me!" + +"Pardon, monsieur," said Charny, "but you acknowledged my right to be +first." + +"Then be quick, for I am in a hurry to begin." + +"I wished to try other methods before resorting to this, for I am not +much more fond of inflicting a caning than M. Reteau is of receiving +one; but as he prefers it to fighting, he shall be satisfied;" and a cry +from Reteau soon announced that Charny had begun. + +The noise soon attracted old Aldegonde, who joined her voice to her +master's. + +Charny minded one no more than the other; at last, however, he stopped, +tired with his work. + +"Now have you finished, sir?" said Philippe. + +"Yes." + +"Then pray return me my sword, and let me in." + +"Oh, no, monsieur!" implored Reteau, who hoped for a protector in the +man who had finished with him. + +"I cannot leave monsieur outside the door," said Charny. + +"Oh, it is a murder!" cried Reteau. "Kill me right off, and have done +with it!" + +"Be easy," said Charny; "I do not think monsieur will touch you." + +"You are right," said Philippe; "you have been beaten--let it suffice; +but there are the remaining numbers, which must be destroyed." + +"Oh yes!" cried Charny. "You see, two heads are better than one; I +should have forgotten that. But how did you happen to come to this gate, +M. de Taverney?" + +"I made some inquiries in the neighborhood about this fellow, and +hearing that he had this mode of escape, I thought by coming in here, +and locking the gate after me, I should cut off his retreat, and make +sure of him. The same idea of vengeance struck you, only more in a +hurry, you came straight to his house without any inquiries, and he +would have escaped you if I had not luckily been here." + +"I am rejoiced that you were, M. de Taverney. Now, fellow, lead us to +your press." + +"It is not here," said Reteau. + +"A lie!" said Charny. + +"No, no," cried Philippe, "we do not want the press; the numbers are all +printed and here, except those sold to M. de Cagliostro." + +"Then he shall burn them before our eyes!" + +And they pushed Reteau into his shop. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. + +HOW TWO FRIENDS BECAME ENEMIES. + + +Aldegonde, however, had gone to fetch the guard; but before she returned +they had had time to light a fire with the first numbers, and were +throwing them in, one after another, as quickly as possible, when the +guard appeared, followed by a crowd of ragged men, women, and boys. + +Happily, Philippe and Charny knew Reteau's secret exit, so when they +caught sight of the guard they made their escape through it, carrying +the key with them. + +Then Reteau began crying "Murder!" while Aldegonde, seeing the flames +through the window, cried "Fire!" + +The soldiers arrived, but finding the young men gone, and the house not +on fire, went away again, leaving Reteau to bathe his bruises. But the +crowd lingered about all day, hoping to see a renewal of the fun. + +When Taverney and Charny found themselves in the Rue Vieux Augustins, +"Monsieur," said Charny, "now we have finished that business, can I be +of any use to you?" + +"Thanks, sir, I was about to ask you the same question." + +"Thank you, but I have private business which will probably keep me in +Paris all day." + +"Permit me, then, to take leave of you; I am happy to have met you." + +"And I you, sir;" and the two young men bowed, but it was easy to see +that all this courtesy went no further than the lips. + +Philippe went towards the boulevards, while Charny turned to the river; +each turned two or three times till he thought himself quite out of +sight, but after walking for some time Charny entered the Rue Neuve St. +Gilles, and there once more found himself face to face with Philippe. + +Each had again the same idea of demanding satisfaction from the Count de +Cagliostro. They could not now doubt each other's intentions, so +Philippe said: + +"I left you the seller, leave me the buyer; I left you the cane, leave +me the sword." + +"Sir," replied Charny, "you left it to me simply because I came first, +and for no other reason." + +"Well," replied Taverney, "here we arrive both together, and I will make +no concession." + +"I did not ask you for any, sir; only I will defend my right." + +"And that, according to you, M. de Charny, is to make M. de Cagliostro +burn his thousand copies." + +"Remember, sir, that it was my idea to burn the others." + +"Then I will have these torn." + +"Monsieur, I am sorry to tell you that I wish to have the first turn +with M. de Cagliostro." + +"All that I can agree to, sir, is to take our chance. I will throw up a +louis, and whoever guesses right shall be first." + +"Thanks, sir, but I am not generally lucky, and should probably lose," +and he stepped towards the door. + +Charny stopped him. + +"Stay, sir, we will soon understand each other." + +"Well, sir?" answered Philippe, turning back. + +"Then, before asking satisfaction of M. de Cagliostro, suppose we take a +turn in the Bois de Boulogne: it will be out of our way, but perhaps we +can settle our dispute there. One of us will probably be left behind, +and the other be uninterrupted." + +"Really, monsieur," said Philippe, "you echo my own thoughts--where +shall we meet?" + +"Well, if my society be not insupportable to you, we need not part. I +ordered my carriage to wait for me in the Place Royale, close by here." + +"Then you will give me a seat?" said Philippe. + +"With the greatest pleasure;" and they walked together to the carriage, +and getting in, set off for the Champs Elysees. + +First, however, Charny wrote a few words on his tablets, and gave them +to the footman to take to his hotel. + +In less than half an hour they reached the Bois de Boulogne. The weather +was lovely, and the air delightful, although the power of the sun was +already felt: the fresh leaves were appearing on the trees, and the +violets filled the place with their perfume. + +"It is a fine day for our promenade, is it not, M. de Taverney?" said +Charny. + +"Beautiful, sir." + +"You may go," said Charny to his coachman. + +"Are you not wrong, sir, to send away your carriage?--one of us may need +it." + +"No, sir," replied Charny; "in this affair secrecy before everything, +and once in the knowledge of a servant, we risk it being talked of all +over Paris to-morrow." + +"As you please, but do you think the fellow does not know what he came +here for? These people know well what brings two gentlemen to the Bois +de Boulogne, and even if he did not feel sure now, he will perhaps +afterwards see one of us wounded, and will have no doubts left then. Is +it not then better to keep him here to take back either who shall need +him, than to be left, or leave me here, wounded and alone?" + +"You are right, monsieur," replied Charny; and, turning to the coachman, +he said, "No, stop, Dauphin; you shall wait here." + +Dauphin remained accordingly, and as he perfectly guessed what was +coming, he arranged his position, so as to see through the still +leafless trees all that passed. + +They walked on a little way, then Philippe said, "I think, M. de Charny, +this is a good place." + +"Excellent, monsieur," said Charny, and added: "Chevalier, if it were +any one but you, I would say one word of courtesy, and we were friends +again; but to you, coming from America, where they fight so well, I +cannot." + +"And I, sir, to you, who the other evening gained the admiration of an +entire court by a glorious feat of arms, can only say, M. le Comte, do +me the honor to draw your sword." + +"Monsieur," said Charny, "I believe we have neither of us touched on the +real cause of quarrel." + +"I do not understand you, comte." + +"Oh! you understand me perfectly, sir; and you blush while you deny it." + +"Defend yourself," cried Philippe; their swords crossed. Philippe soon +perceived that he was superior to his adversary, and therefore became as +calm as though he had been only fencing, and was satisfied with +defending himself without attacking. + +"You spare me, sir," said Charny; "may I ask why?" + +Philippe went on as before; Charny grew warm, and wished to provoke him +from this sang froid, therefore he said: + +"I told you, sir, that we had not touched on the real cause of the +quarrel." + +Philippe did not reply. + +"The true cause," continued Charny, "why you sought a quarrel, for it +was you who sought it, was, that you were jealous of me." + +Still Philippe remained silent. + +"What is your intention?" again said Charny. "Do you wish to tire my +arm? that is a calculation unworthy of you. Kill me if you can, but do +not dally thus." + +"Yes, sir," replied Philippe at last, "your reproach is just; the +quarrel did begin with me, and I was wrong." + +"That is not the question now. You have your sword in your hand; use it +for something more than mere defense." + +"Monsieur," said Philippe, "I have the honor to tell you once more I was +wrong, and that I apologize." + +But Charny was by this time too excited to appreciate the generosity of +his adversary. "Oh!" said he, "I understand; you wish to play the +magnanimous with me; that is it, is it not, chevalier? You wish to +relate to the ladies this evening how you brought me here, and then +spared my life." + +"Count," said Philippe, "I fear you are losing your senses." + +"You wish to kill M. de Cagliostro to please the queen; and, for the +same reason, you wish to turn me into ridicule." + +"Ah! this is too much," cried Philippe, "and proves to me that you have +not as generous a heart as I thought." + +"Pierce it then," cried Charny, exposing himself as Philippe made +another pass. + +The sword glanced along his ribs, and the blood flowed rapidly. + +"At last," cried Charny, "I am wounded. Now I may kill you if I can." + +"Decidedly," said Philippe, "you are mad. You will not kill me--you will +only be disabled without cause, and without profit; for no one will ever +know for what you have fought;" and as Charny made another pass, he +dexterously sent his sword flying from his hand; then, seizing it, he +broke it across his foot. "M. de Charny," said he, "you did not require +to prove to me that you were brave; you must therefore detest me very +much when you fight with such fury." + +Charny did not reply, but grew visibly pale, and then tottered. + +Philippe advanced to support him, but he repulsed him, saying, "I can +reach my carriage." + +"At least take this handkerchief to stop the blood." + +"Willingly." + +"And my arm, sir; at the least obstacle you met you would fall, and give +yourself unnecessary pain." + +"The sword has only penetrated the skin. I hope soon to be well." + +"So much the better, sir; but I warn you, that you will find it +difficult to make me your adversary again." + +Charny tried to reply, but the words died on his lips. He staggered, and +Philippe had but just time to catch him in his arms, and bear him half +fainting to his carriage. + +Dauphin, who had seen what had passed, advanced to meet him, and they +put Charny in. + +"Drive slowly," said Philippe, who then took his way back to Paris, +murmuring to himself, with a sigh, "She will pity him." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. + +THE HOUSE IN THE RUE ST. GILLES. + + +Philippe jumped into the first coach he saw, and told the man to drive +to the Rue St. Gilles, where he stopped at the house of M. de +Cagliostro. + +A large carriage, with two good horses, was standing in the courtyard; +the coachman was asleep, wrapped in a greatcoat of fox-skins, and two +footmen walked up and down before the door. + +"Does the Count Cagliostro live here?" asked Philippe. + +"He is just going out." + +"The more reason to be quick, for I wish to speak to him first. +Announce the Chevalier Philippe de Taverney;" and he followed the men +up-stairs. + +"Ask him to walk in," said, from within, a voice at once manly and +gentle. + +"Excuse me, sir," said the chevalier to a man whom we have already seen, +first at the table of M. de Richelieu, then at the exhibition of M. +Mesmer, in Oliva's room, and with her at the Opera ball. + +"For what, sir?" replied he. + +"Because I prevent you from going out." + +"You would have needed an excuse had you been much later, for I was +waiting for you." + +"For me?" + +"Yes, I was forewarned of your visit." + +"Of my visit?" + +"Yes; two hours ago. It is about that time, is it not, since you were +coming here before, when an interruption caused you to postpone the +execution of your project?" + +Philippe began to experience the same strange sensation with which this +man inspired every one. + +"Sit down, M. de Taverney," continued he; "this armchair was placed for +you." + +"A truce to pleasantry, sir," said Philippe, in a voice which he vainly +tried to render calm. + +"I do not jest, sir." + +"Then a truce to charlatanism. If you are a sorcerer, I did not come to +make trial of your skill; but if you are, so much the better, for you +must know what I am come to say to you." + +"Oh, yes, you are come to seek a quarrel." + +"You know that? perhaps you also know why?" + +"On account of the queen. Now, sir, I am ready to listen;" and these +last words were no longer pronounced in the courteous tones of a host, +but in the hard and dry ones of an adversary. + +"Sir, there exists a certain publication." + +"There are many publications," said Cagliostro. + +"Well, this publication to-day was written against the queen." + +Cagliostro did not reply. + +"You know what I refer to, count?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"You have bought one thousand copies of it?" + +"I do not deny it." + +"Luckily, they have not reached your hands." + +"What makes you think so, sir?" + +"Because I met the porter, paid him, and sent him with them to my house; +and my servant, instructed by me, will destroy them." + +"You should always finish yourself the work you commence, sir. Are you +sure these thousand copies are at your house?" + +"Certainly." + +"You deceive yourself, sir; they are here. Ah, you thought that I, +sorcerer that I am, would let myself be foiled in that way. You thought +it a brilliant idea to buy off my messenger. Well, I have a steward, and +you see it is natural for the steward of a sorcerer to be one also. He +divined that you would go to the journalist, and that you would meet my +messenger, whom he afterwards followed, and threatened to make him give +back the gold you had given him, if he did not follow his original +instructions, instead of taking them to you. But I see you doubt." + +"I do." + +"Look, then, and you will believe;" and, opening an oak cabinet, he +showed the astonished chevalier the thousand copies lying there. + +Philippe approached the count in a menacing attitude, but he did not +stir. "Sir," said Philippe, "you appear a man of courage; I call upon +you to give me immediate satisfaction." + +"Satisfaction for what?" + +"For the insult to the queen, of which you render yourself an accomplice +while you keep one number of this vile paper." + +"Monsieur," said Cagliostro, "you are in error; I like novelties, +scandalous reports, and other amusing things, and collect them, that I +may remember at a later day what I should otherwise forget." + +"A man of honor, sir, does not collect infamies." + +"But, if I do not think this an infamy?" + +"You will allow at least that it is a lie." + +"You deceive yourself, sir. The queen was at M. Mesmer's." + +"It is false, sir." + +"You mean to tell me I lie?" + +"I do." + +"Well, I will reply in a few words--I saw her there." + +"You saw her!" + +"As plainly as I now see you." + +Philippe looked full at Cagliostro. "I still say, sir, that you lie." + +Cagliostro shrugged his shoulders, as though he were talking to a +madman. + +"Do you not hear me, sir?" said Philippe. + +"Every word." + +"And do you not know what giving the lie deserves?" + +"Yes, sir; there is a French proverb which says it merits a box on the +ears." + +"Well, sir, I am astonished that your hand has not been already raised +to give it, as you are a French gentleman, and know the proverb." + +"Although a French gentleman, I am a man, and love my brother." + +"Then you refuse me satisfaction?" + +"I only pay what I owe." + +"Then you will compel me to take satisfaction in another manner." + +"How?" + +"I exact that you burn the numbers before my eyes, or I will proceed +with you as with the journalist." + +"Oh! a beating," said Cagliostro, laughing. + +"Neither more nor less, sir. Doubtless you can call your servants." + +"Oh, I shall not call my servants; it is my own business. I am stronger +than you, and if you approach me with your cane, I shall take you in my +arms and throw you across the room, and shall repeat this as often as +you repeat your attempt." + +"Well, M. Hercules, I accept the challenge," said Philippe, throwing +himself furiously upon Cagliostro, who, seizing him round the neck and +waist with a grasp of iron, threw him on a pile of cushions, which lay +some way off, and then remained standing as coolly as ever. + +Philippe rose as pale as death. "Sir," said he, in a hoarse voice, "you +are in fact stronger than I am, but your logic is not as strong as your +arm; and you forgot, when you treated me thus, that you gave me the +right to say, 'Defend yourself, count, or I will kill you.'" + +Cagliostro did not move. + +"Draw your sword, I tell you, sir, or you are a dead man." + +"You are not yet sufficiently near for me to treat you as before, and I +will not expose myself to be killed by you, like poor Gilbert." + +"Gilbert!" cried Philippe, reeling back. "Did you say Gilbert?" + +"Happily you have no gun this time, only a sword." + +"Monsieur," cried Philippe, "you have pronounced a name----" + +"Which has awakened a terrible echo in your remembrance, has it not? A +name that you never thought to hear again, for you were alone with the +poor boy, in the grotto of Acores, when you assassinated him." + +"Oh!" said Philippe, "will you not draw?" + +"If you knew," said Cagliostro, "how easily I could make your sword fly +from your hand!" + +"With your sword?" + +"Yes, with my sword, if I wished." + +"Then try." + +"No, I have a still surer method." + +"For the last time, defend yourself," said Philippe, advancing towards +him. + +Then the count took from his pocket a little bottle, which he uncorked, +and threw the contents in Philippe's face. Scarcely had it touched him, +when he reeled, let his sword drop, and fell senseless. + +Cagliostro picked him up, put him on a sofa, waited for his senses to +return, and then said, "At your age, chevalier, we should have done with +follies; cease, therefore, to act like a foolish boy, and listen to me." + +Philippe made an effort to shake off the torpor which still held +possession of him, and murmured, "Oh, sir, do you call these the weapons +of a gentleman?" + +Cagliostro shrugged his shoulders. "You repeat forever the same word," +he said; "when we of the nobility have opened our mouths wide enough to +utter the word gentleman, we think we have said everything. What do you +call the weapons of a gentleman? Is it your sword, which served you so +badly against me, or is it your gun, which served you so well against +Gilbert? What makes some men superior to others? Do you think that it is +that high-sounding word gentleman? No; it is first reason, then +strength, most of all, science. Well, I have used all these against you. +With my reason I braved your insults, with my strength I conquered +yours, and with my science I extinguished at once your moral and +physical powers. Now I wish to show you that you have committed two +faults in coming here with menaces in your mouth. Will you listen to +me?" + +"You have overpowered me," replied Philippe; "I can scarcely move. You +have made yourself master of my muscles and of my mind, and then you ask +me if I will listen!" + +Then Cagliostro took down from the chimney-piece another little gold +phial. "Smell this, chevalier," said he. + +Philippe obeyed, and it seemed to him that the cloud which hung over him +dispersed. "Oh, I revive!" he cried. + +"And you feel free and strong?" + +"Yes." + +"With your full powers and memory of the past?" + +"Yes." + +"Then this memory gives me an advantage over you." + +"No," said Philippe, "for I acted in defense of a vital and sacred +principle." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I defended the monarchy." + +"You defended the monarchy!--you, who went to America to defend a +republic. Ah, mon Dieu! be frank; it is not the monarchy you defend." + +Philippe colored. + +"To love those who disdain you," continued Cagliostro, "who deceive and +forget you, is the attribute of great souls. It is the law of the +Scriptures to return good for evil. You are a Christian, M. de +Taverney." + +"Monsieur," cried Philippe, "not a word more; if I did not defend the +monarchy, I defended the queen, that is to say, an innocent woman, and +to be respected even if she were not so, for it is a divine law not to +attack the weak." + +"The weak! the queen--you call a feeble being her to whom twenty-eight +million human beings bow the knee!" + +"Monsieur, they calumniate her." + +"How do you know?" + +"I believe it." + +"Well, I believe the contrary; we have each the right to think as we +please." + +"But you act like an evil genius." + +"Who tells you so?" cried Cagliostro, with sparkling eyes. "How, have +you the temerity to assume that you are right, and that I am wrong? You +defend royalty; well, I defend the people. You say, render to Caesar the +things which are Caesar's; and I say, render to God the things that are +God's. Republican of America, I recall you to the love of the people, to +the love of equality. You trample on the people to kiss the hands of a +queen; I would throw down a queen to elevate a people. I do not disturb +you in your adoration; leave me in peace at my work. You say to me, die, +for you have offended the object of my worship; and I say to you, who +combat mine, live, for I feel myself so strong in my principles, that +neither you nor any one else can retard my progress for an instant." + +"Sir, you frighten me," said Philippe; "you show me the danger in which +our monarchy is." + +"Then be prudent, and shun the opening gulf." + +"You know," replied Philippe, "that I would sooner entomb myself in it, +than see those whom I defend in danger." + +"Well, I have warned you." + +"And I," said Philippe, "I, who am but a feeble individual, will use +against you the arms of the weak. I implore you, with tearful eyes and +joined hands, to be merciful towards those whom you pursue. I ask you to +spare me the remorse of knowing you were acting against this poor queen, +and not preventing you. I beg you to destroy this publication, which +would make a woman shed tears. I ask you, by the love which you have +guessed, or I swear that with this sword, which has proved so powerless +against you, I will pierce myself before your eyes!" + +"Ah!" murmured Cagliostro, "why are they not all like you? Then I would +join them, and they should not perish." + +"Monsieur, monsieur, I pray you to reply to me!" + +"See, then," said Cagliostro, "if all the thousand numbers be there, and +burn them yourself." + +Philippe ran to the cabinet, took them out, and threw them on the fire. +"Adieu, monsieur!" then he said; "a hundred thanks for the favor you +have granted me." + +"I owed the brother," said Cagliostro, when he had gone, "some +compensation for all I made the sister endure." + +Then he called for his carriage. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. + +THE HEAD OF THE TAVERNEY FAMILY. + + +While this was passing in the Rue St. Gilles, the elder M. Taverney was +walking in his garden, followed by two footmen, who carried a chair, +with which they approached him every five minutes, that he might rest. +While doing so, a servant came to announce the chevalier. + +"My son," said the old man, "come, Philippe, you arrive apropos--my +heart is full of happy thoughts; but how solemn you look!" + +"Do I, sir?" + +"You know already the results of that affair?" + +"What affair?" + +The old man looked to see that no one was listening, then said, "I speak +of the ball." + +"I do not understand." + +"Oh, the ball at the Opera." + +Philippe colored. + +"Sit down," continued his father; "I want to talk to you. It seems that +you, so timid and delicate at first, now compromise her too much." + +"Whom do you mean, sir?" + +"Pardieu! do you think I am ignorant of your escapade, both together at +the Opera ball? It was pretty." + +"Sir, I protest----" + +"Oh, do not be angry; I only mean to warn you for your good. You are not +careful enough; you were seen there with her." + +"I was seen?" + +"Pardieu! had you, or not, a blue domino?" + +Philippe was about to explain that he had not, and did not know what his +father meant, but he thought to himself, "It is of no use to explain to +him; he never believes me. Besides, I wish to learn more." + +"You see," continued the old man, triumphantly, "you were recognized. +Indeed, M. de Richelieu, who was at the ball in spite of his eighty-four +years, wondered who the blue domino could be with whom the queen was +walking, and he could only suspect you, for he knew all the others." + +"And pray how does he say he recognized the queen?" + +"Not very difficult, when she took her mask off. Such audacity as that +surpasses all imagination; she must really be mad about you. But take +care, chevalier; you have jealous rivals to fear; it is an envied post +to be favorite of the queen, when the queen is the real king. Pardon my +moralizing, but I do not wish that the breath of chance should blow down +what you have reared so skilfully." + +Philippe rose; the conversation was hateful to him, but a kind of savage +curiosity impelled him to hear everything. + +"We are already envied," continued the old man; "that is natural, but we +have not yet attained the height to which we shall rise. To you will +belong the glory of raising our name; and now you are progressing so +well, only be prudent, or you will fail after all. Soon, however, you +must ask for some high post, and obtain for me a lord-lieutenancy not +too far from Paris. Then you can have a peerage, and become a duke and +lieutenant-general. In two years, if I am still alive----" + +"Enough, enough!" groaned Philippe. + +"Oh, if you are satisfied with that, I am not. You have a whole life +before you; I, perhaps, only a few months. However, I do not complain; +God gave me two children, and if my daughter has been useless in +repairing our fortunes, you will make up for it. I see in you the great +Taverney, and you inspire me with respect, for your conduct has been +admirable; you show no jealousy, but leave the field apparently open to +every one, while you really hold it alone." + +"I do not understand you," replied Philippe. + +"Oh, no modesty; it was exactly the conduct of M. Potemkin, who +astonished the world with his fortunes. He saw that Catherine loved +variety in her amours; that, if left free, she would fly from flower to +flower, returning always to the sweetest and most beautiful; but that, +if pursued, she would fly right away. He took his part, therefore; he +even introduced new favorites to his sovereign, to weary her out with +their number; but through and after the quickly succeeding reigns of the +twelve Caesars, as they were ironically called, Potemkin in reality was +supreme." + +"What incomprehensible infamies!" murmured poor Philippe. But the old +man went on: + +"According to his system, however, you have been still a little wrong. +He never abandoned his surveillance, and you are too lax in this." + +Philippe replied only by shrugging his shoulders. He really began to +think his father was crazy. + +"Ah! you thought I did not see your game. You are already providing a +successor, for you have divined that there is no stability in the +queen's amours, and in the event of her changing, you wish not to be +quite thrown aside; therefore you make friends with M. de Charny, who +might otherwise, when his turn comes, exile you, as you now might MM. de +Coigny, Vaudreuil, and others." + +Philippe, with an angry flush, said: + +"Once more, enough; I am ashamed to have listened so long. Those who say +that the Queen of France is a Messalina are criminal calumniators." + +"I tell you," said the old man, "no one can hear, and I approve your +plan. M. de Charny will repay your kindness some day." + +"Your logic is admirable, sir; and M. de Charny is so much my favorite +that I have just passed my sword through his ribs." + +"What!" cried the old man, somewhat frightened at his son's flashing +eyes, "you have not been fighting?" + +"Yes, sir; that is my method of conciliating my successors. And he +turned to go away. + +"Philippe, you jest." + +"I do not, sir." + +The old man rose, and tottered off to the house. + +"Quick," said he to the servant; "let a man on horseback go at once and +ask after M. de Charny, who has been wounded, and let him be sure to say +he comes from me." Then he murmured to himself, "Mine is still the only +head in the family." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. + +THE STANZAS OF M. DE PROVENCE. + + +While these events were passing in Paris and in Versailles, the king, +tranquil as usual, sat in his study, surrounded by maps and plans, and +traced new paths for the vessels of La Perouse. + +A slight knock at his door roused him from his study, and a voice said, +"May I come in, brother?" + +"The Comte de Provence," growled the king, discontentedly. "Enter." + +A short person came in. + +"You did not expect me, brother?" he said. + +"No, indeed." + +"Do I disturb you?" + +"Have you anything particular to say?" + +"Such a strange report----" + +"Oh, some scandal?" + +"Yes, brother." + +"Which has amused you?" + +"Because it is so strange." + +"Something against me?" + +"Should I laugh if it were?" + +"Then against the queen?" + +"Sire, imagine that I was told quite seriously that the queen slept out +the other night." + +"That would be very sad if it were true," replied the king. + +"But it is not true, is it?" + +"No." + +"Nor that the queen was seen waiting outside the gate at the +reservoirs?" + +"No." + +"The day, you know, that you ordered the gates to be shut at eleven +o'clock?" + +"I do not remember." + +"Well, brother, they pretend that the queen was seen arm-in-arm with M. +d'Artois at half-past twelve that night." + +"Where?" + +"Going to a house which he possesses behind the stables. Has not your +majesty heard this report?" + +"Yes, you took care of that." + +"How, sire?--what have I done?" + +"Some verses which were printed in the _Mercury_." + +"Some verses!" said the count, growing red. + +"Oh, yes; you are a favorite of the Muses." + +"Not I, sire." + +"Oh, do not deny it; I have the manuscript in your writing! Now, if you +had informed yourself of what the queen really did that day, instead of +writing these lines against her, and consequently against me, you would +have written an ode in her favor. Perhaps the subject does not inspire +you; but I should have liked a bad ode better than a good satire." + +"Sire, you overwhelm me; but I trust you will believe I was deceived, +and did not mean harm." + +"Perhaps." + +"Besides, I did not say I believed it; and then, a few verses are +nothing. Now, a pamphlet like one I have just seen----" + +"A pamphlet?" + +"Yes, sire; and I want an order for the Bastile for the author of it." + +The king rose. "Let me see it," he said. + +"I do not know if I ought." + +"Certainly you ought. Have you got it with you?" + +"Yes, sire;" and he drew from his pocket "The History of the Queen +Etteniotna," one of the fatal numbers which had escaped from Philippe +and Charny. + +The king glanced over it rapidly. "Infamous!" he cried. + +"You see, sire, they pretend the queen went to M. Mesmer's." + +"Well, she did go." + +"She went?" + +"Authorized by me." + +"Oh, sire!" + +"That is nothing against her; I gave my consent." + +"Did your majesty intend that she should experimentalize on herself?" + +The king stamped with rage as the count said this; he was reading one of +the most insulting passages--the history of her contortions, voluptuous +disorder, and the attention she had excited. + +"Impossible!" he cried, growing pale; and he rang the bell. "Oh, the +police shall deal with this! Fetch M. de Crosne." + +"Sire, it is his day for coming here, and he is now waiting." + +"Let him come in." + +"Shall I go, brother?" said the count. + +"No; remain. If the queen be guilty, you are one of the family, and must +know it; if innocent, you, who have suspected her, must hear it." + +M. de Crosne entered, and bowed, saying, "The report is ready, sire." + +"First, sir," said the king, "explain how you allow such infamous +publications against the queen." + +"Etteniotna?" asked M. de Crosne. + +"Yes." + +"Well, sire, it is a man called Reteau." + +"You know his name, and have not arrested him!" + +"Sire, nothing is more easy. I have an order already prepared in my +portfolio." + +"Then why is it not done?" + +M. de Crosne looked at the count. + +"I see, M. de Crosne wishes me to leave," said he. + +"No," replied the king, "remain. And you, M. de Crosne, speak freely." + +"Well, sire, I wished first to consult your majesty whether you would +not rather give him some money, and send him away to be hanged +elsewhere." + +"Why?" + +"Because, sire, if these men tell lies, the people are glad enough to +see them whipped, or even hanged; but if they chance upon a truth----" + +"A truth! It is true that the queen went to M. Mesmer's, but I gave her +permission." + +"Oh, sire!" cried M. de Crosne. + +His tone of sincerity struck the king more than anything M. de Provence +had said; and he answered, "I suppose, sir, that was no harm." + +"No, sire; but her majesty has compromised herself." + +"M. de Crosne, what have your police told you?" + +"Sire, many things, which, with all possible respect for her majesty, +agree in many points with this pamphlet." + +"Let me hear." + +"That the queen went in a common dress, in the middle of this crowd, and +alone." + +"Alone!" cried the king. + +"Yes, sire." + +"You are deceived, M. de Crosne." + +"I do not think so, sire." + +"You have bad reporters, sir." + +"So exact, that I can give your majesty a description of her dress, of +all her movements, of her cries----" + +"Her cries!" + +"Even her sighs were observed, sire." + +"It is impossible she could have so far forgotten what is due to me and +to herself." + +"Oh, yes," said the Comte de Provence; "her majesty is surely +incapable----" + +Louis XVI. interrupted him. "Sir," said he, to M. de Crosne, "you +maintain what you have said?" + +"Unhappily, yes, sire." + +"I will examine into it further," said the king, passing his +handkerchief over his forehead, on which the drops hung from anxiety and +vexation. "I did permit the queen to go, but I ordered her to take with +her a person safe, irreproachable, and even holy." + +"Ah," said M. de Crosne, "if she had but done so----" + +"Yes," said the count; "if a lady like Madame de Lamballe for +instance----" + +"It was precisely she whom the queen promised to take." + +"Unhappily, sire, she did not do so." + +"Well," said the king, with agitation; "if she has disobeyed me so +openly I ought to punish, and I will punish; only some doubts still +remain on my mind; these doubts you do not share; that is natural; you +are not the king, husband, and friend of her whom they accuse. However, +I will proceed to clear the affair up." He rang. "Let some one see," +said he to the person who came, "where Madame de Lamballe is." + +"Sire, she is walking in the garden with her majesty and another lady." + +"Beg her to come to me. Now, gentlemen, in ten minutes we shall know the +truth." + +All were silent. + +M. de Crosne was really sad, and the count put on an affectation of it +which might have solemnized Momus himself. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. + +THE PRINCESS DE LAMBALLE. + + +The Princesse de Lamballe entered beautiful and calm. Her hair drawn +back from her noble forehead, her dark penciled eyebrows, her clear blue +eyes and beautiful lips, and her unrivaled figure, formed a lovely tout +ensemble. She seemed always surrounded by an atmosphere of virtue and +grace. + +The king looked at her with a troubled expression, dreading what he was +about to hear; then bowing, said, "Sit down, princess." + +"What does your majesty desire?" asked she, in a sweet voice. + +"Some information, princess: what day did you last go with the queen to +Paris?" + +"Wednesday, sire." + +"Pardon me, cousin," said Louis XVI.; "but I wish to know the exact +truth." + +"You will never hear anything else from me, sire." + +"What did you go there for?" + +"I went to M. Mesmer's, Place Vendome." + +The two witnesses trembled. The king colored with delight. + +"Alone?" asked the king. + +"No, sire; with the queen." + +"With the queen?" cried Louis, seizing her hand. + +"Yes, sire." + +M. de Provence and M. de Crosne looked stupefied. + +"Your majesty had authorized the queen to go; at least, so she told me," +continued the princess. + +"It was true, cousin: gentlemen, I breathe again; Madame de Lamballe +never tells a falsehood." + +"Never, sire." + +"Oh, never, sire," said M. de Crosne, with perfect sincerity. "But will +you permit me, sire?" + +"Certainly, monsieur; question, search as much as you please; I place +the princess at your disposal." + +Madame de Lamballe smiled. "I am ready," she said. + +"Madame," said the lieutenant of police, "have the goodness to tell his +majesty what you did there, and how the queen was dressed." + +"She had on a dress of gray taffeta, a mantle of embroidered muslin, an +ermine muff, and a rose-colored velvet bonnet, trimmed with black." + +M. de Crosne looked astonished. It was a totally different dress from +that which he had had described to him. The Comte de Provence bit his +lips with vexation, and the king rubbed his hands. + +"What did you do on entering?" asked he. + +"Sire, you are right to say on entering, for we had hardly entered the +room----" + +"Together?" + +"Yes, sire; and we could scarcely have been seen, for every one was +occupied with the experiments going on, when a lady approached the +queen, and, offering her a mask, implored her to turn back." + +"And you stopped?" + +"Yes, sire." + +"You never went through the rooms?" asked M. de Crosne. + +"No, monsieur." + +"And you never quitted the queen?" asked the king. + +"Not for a moment, sire. Her majesty never left my arm." + +"Now!" cried the king, "what do you say, M. de Crosne? and you, +brother?" + +"It is extraordinary, quite supernatural," said the count, who affected +a gaiety which could not conceal his disappointment. + +"There is nothing supernatural," said M. de Crosne, who felt real +remorse: "what Madame de Lamballe says is undoubtedly true; therefore my +informants must have been mistaken." + +"Do you speak seriously, sir?" asked the count. + +"Perfectly, monseigneur. Her majesty did what Madame de Lamballe states, +and nothing more, I feel convinced; my agents were, somehow or other, +deceived. As for this journalist, I will immediately send the order for +his imprisonment." + +Madame de Lamballe looked from one to the other with an expression of +innocent curiosity. + +"One moment," said the king; "you spoke of a lady who came to stop you; +tell us who she was?" + +"Her majesty seemed to know her, sire." + +"Because, cousin, I must speak to this person; then we shall learn the +key to this mystery." + +"That is my opinion also, sire," said M. de Crosne. + +"Did the queen tell you that she knew this person?" said the count. + +"She told me so, monseigneur." + +"My brother means to say that you probably know her name." + +"Madame de la Motte Valois." + +"That intriguer!" cried the king. + +"Diable!" said the count; "she will be difficult to interrogate: she is +cunning." + +"We will be as cunning as she," said M. de Crosne. + +"I do not like such people about the queen," said Louis; "she is so good +that all the beggars crowd round her." + +"Madame de la Motte is a true Valois," said the princess. + +"However that may be, I will not see her here. I prefer depriving myself +of the pleasure of hearing the queen's innocence confirmed, to doing +that." + +"But you must see her, sire," said the queen, entering at that moment, +pale with anger, beautiful with a noble indignation. "It is not now for +you to say, 'I do, or I do not wish to see her.' She is a witness from +whom the intelligence of my accusers," said she, looking at her +brother-in-law, "and the justice of my judges," turning to the king and +M. de Crosne, "must draw the truth. I, the accused, demand that she be +heard." + +"Madame," said the king, "we will not do Madame de la Motte the honor of +sending for her to give evidence either for or against you. I cannot +stake your honor against the veracity of this woman." + +"You need not send for her, she is here." + +"Here!" cried the king. + +"Sire, you know I went to see her one day; that day of which so many +things were said," and she looked again at the Comte de Provence, who +felt ready to sink through the ground; "and I then dropped at her house +a box, containing a portrait, which she was to return to me to-day, and +she is here." + +"No, no," said the king; "I am satisfied, and do not wish to see her." + +"But I am not satisfied, and shall bring her in. Besides, why this +repugnance? What has she done? If there be anything, tell me; you, M. de +Crosne? you know everything." + +"I know nothing against this lady," replied he. + +"Really?" + +"Certainly not; she is poor, and perhaps ambitious, but that is all." + +"If there be no more than that against her, the king can surely admit +her." + +"I do not know why," said Louis; "but I have a presentiment that this +woman will be the cause of misfortune to me." + +"Oh! sire, that is superstition; pray fetch her, Madame de Lamballe." + +Five minutes after, Jeanne, with a timid air, although with a +distinguished appearance, entered the room. + +Louis XVI., strong in his antipathies, had turned his back towards her, +and was leaning his head on his hands, seeming to take no longer a part +in the conversation. The Comte de Provence cast on her a look which, had +her modesty been real, would have increased her confusion; but it +required much more than that to trouble Jeanne. + +"Madame," said the queen, "have the goodness to tell the king exactly +what passed the other day at M. Mesmer's." + +Jeanne did not speak. + +"It requires no consideration," continued the queen; "we want nothing +but the simple truth." + +Jeanne understood immediately that the queen had need of her, and knew +that she could clear her in a moment by speaking the simple truth; but +she felt inclined to keep her secret. + +"Sire," said she, "I went to see M. Mesmer from curiosity, like the rest +of the world. The spectacle appeared to me rather a coarse one; I turned +and suddenly saw her majesty entering, whom I had already had the honor +of seeing, but without knowing her till her generosity revealed her +rank. It seemed to me that her majesty was out of place in this room, +where much suffering and many ridiculous exhibitions were going on. I +beg pardon for having taken it on myself to judge; it was a woman's +instinct, but I humbly beg pardon if I passed the bounds of proper +respect." She seemed overcome with emotion as she concluded. + +Every one but the king was pleased. + +Madame de Lamballe thought her conduct delicate, and herself timid, +intelligent, and good. + +The queen thanked her by a look. + +"Well," she said, "you have heard, sire." + +He did not move, but said, "I did not need her testimony." + +"I was told to speak," said Jeanne timidly, "and I obeyed." + +"It is enough," answered he; "when the queen says a thing she needs no +witnesses to confirm her; and when she has my approbation, and she has +it, she need care for that of no one else." + +He cast an overwhelming look on his brother, and kissing the hands of +the queen and the princess, and begging pardon of the latter for having +disturbed her for nothing, made a very slight bow to Jeanne. + +The ladies then left the room. + +"Brother," said Louis to the count, "now I will detain you no longer; I +have work to do with M. de Crosne. You have heard your sister's complete +justification, and it is easy to see you are as pleased as myself. Pray +sit down, M. de Crosne." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. + +THE QUEEN. + + +The queen, after leaving the king, felt deeply the danger she had been +so nearly incurring. She was therefore pleased with Jeanne, who had been +the means of preventing it, and said to her, with a gracious smile: + +"It is really fortunate, madame, that you prevented my prolonging my +stay at M. Mesmer's, for only think, they have taken advantage of my +being there to say that I was under the influence of the magnetism." + +"But," said Madame de Lamballe, "it is very strange that the police +should have been so deceived, and have affirmed that they saw the queen +in the inner room." + +"It is strange," said the queen; "and M. de Crosne is an honest man, and +would not willingly injure me; but his agents may have been bought. I +have enemies, dear Lamballe. Still there must have been some foundation +for this tale. This infamous libel represents me as intoxicated, and +overcome to such a degree by the magnetic fluid, that I lost all control +over myself, and all womanly reserve. Did any such scene take place, +Madame la Comtesse? Was there any one who behaved like this?" + +Jeanne colored; the secret once told, she lost all the fatal influence +which she could now exercise over the queen's destiny; therefore she +again resolved to keep silent on this point. + +"Madame," said she, "there was a woman much agitated who attracted great +attention by her contortions and cries." + +"Probably some actress or loose character." + +"Possibly, madame." + +"Countess, you replied very well to the king, and I will not forget you. +How have you advanced in your own affairs?" + +At this moment Madame de Misery came in, to say that Mademoiselle de +Taverney wished to know if her majesty would receive her. + +"Assuredly," said the queen. "How ceremonious you always are, Andree; +why do you stand so much upon etiquette?" + +"Your majesty is too good to me." + +Madame de Lamballe now availed herself of Andree's entrance to take +leave. + +"Well, Andree," the queen then said, "here is this lady whom we went to +see the other day." + +"I recognize madame," said Andree, bowing. + +"Do you know what they have been saying of me?" + +"Yes, madame; M. de Provence has been repeating the story." + +"Oh! no doubt; therefore we will leave that subject. Countess, we were +speaking of you--who protects you now?" + +"You, madame," replied Jeanne, boldly, "since you permit me to come and +kiss your hand. Few people," she continued, "dared to protect me when I +was in obscurity; now that I have been seen with your majesty, every one +will be anxious to do so." + +"Then," said the queen, "no one has been either brave enough or corrupt +enough to protect you for yourself?" + +"I had first Madame de Boulainvilliers, a brave protector; then her +husband, a corrupt one; but since my marriage no one. Oh yes, I forget +one brave man--a generous prince." + +"Prince, countess! who is it?" + +"Monsieur the Cardinal de Rohan." + +"My enemy," said the queen, smiling. + +"Your enemy! Oh, madame!" + +"It seems you are astonished that a queen should have an enemy. It is +evident you have not lived at court." + +"But, madame, he adores you. The devotion of the cardinal equals his +respect for you." + +"Oh, doubtless," said the queen, with a hearty laugh; "that is why he is +my enemy." + +Jeanne looked surprised. + +"And you are his protegee," continued the queen; "tell me all about it." + +"It is very simple; his eminence has assisted me in the most generous, +yet the most considerate, manner." + +"Good; Prince Louis is generous; no one can deny that. But do you not +think, Andree, that M. le Cardinal also adores this pretty countess a +little? Come, countess, tell us." And Marie Antoinette laughed again in +her frank, joyous manner. + +"All this gaiety must be put on," thought Jeanne. So she answered, in a +grave tone, "Madame, I have the honor to affirm to your majesty that M. +de Rohan----" + +"Well, since you are his friend, ask him what he did with some hair of +mine which he bribed a certain hair-dresser to steal; and which trick +cost the poor man dear, for he lost my custom." + +"Your majesty surprises me; M. de Rohan did that?" + +"Oh, yes; all his adoration, you know. After having hated me at Vienna, +and having employed every means to try and prevent my marriage, he at +last began to perceive that I was a woman, and his queen, and that he +had offended me forever. Then this dear prince began to fear for his +future, and, like all of his profession, who seem most fond of those +whom they most fear, and as he knew me young and believed me foolish and +vain, he turned--he became a professed admirer, and began with sighs and +glances. He adores me, does he not, Andree?" + +"Madame!" + +"Oh! Andree will not compromise herself, but I say what I please; at +least I may have that advantage from being a queen. So it is a settled +thing that the cardinal adores me, and you may tell him, countess, that +he has my permission." + +Jeanne, instead of seeing in all this only the angry disdain of a noble +character, which she was incapable of appreciating, thought it all pique +against M. de Rohan, hiding another feeling for him, and therefore began +to defend him with all her eloquence. + +The queen listened. + +"Good! she listens," thought Jeanne, and did not again understand that +she listened through generosity, and through pleasure at anything so +novel as to hear any person defend one of whom the sovereign chose to +speak ill, and felt pleased with her, thinking she saw a heart where +none was placed. + +All at once a joyous voice was heard near, and the queen said, "Here is +the Comte d'Artois." + +When he entered, the queen introduced the countess to him. + +"Pray do not let me send you away, Madame la Comtesse," said he, as +Jeanne made a move to depart. + +The queen also requested her to stay. "You have returned from the +wolf-hunt, then?" she said. + +"Yes, sister, and have had good sport; I have killed seven. I am not +sure," continued he, laughing, "but they say so. However, do you know I +have gained seven hundred francs?" + +"How?" + +"Why, they pay a hundred francs a head for these beasts. It is dear, but +I would give two hundred of them just now for the head of a certain +journalist." + +"Ah! you know the story?" + +"M. de Provence told me." + +"He is indefatigable. But tell me how he related it." + +"So as to make you whiter than snow, or Venus Aphroditus. It seems you +came out of it gloriously; you are fortunate." + +"Oh, you call that fortunate. Do you hear him, Andree?" + +"Yes, for you might have gone alone, without Madame de Lamballe; and you +might not have had Madame de la Motte there to stop your entrance." + +"Ah! you know that too?" + +"Oh yes; the count told everything. Then you might not have had Madame +de la Motte at hand to give her testimony. You will tell me, doubtless, +that virtue and innocence are like the violet which does not require to +be seen in order to be recognized; but still I say you are fortunate." + +"Badly proved." + +"I will prove it still better. Saved so well from the unlucky scrape of +the cabriolet, saved from this affair, and then the ball," whispered he +in her ear. + +"What ball?" + +"The ball at the Opera." + +"What do you mean?" + +"I mean the ball at the Opera; but I beg pardon, I should not have +mentioned it." + +"Really, brother, you puzzle me; I know nothing about the ball at the +Opera." + +The words "ball" and "Opera" caught Jeanne's ear, and she listened +intently. + +"I am dumb," said the prince. + +"But, count, I insist on knowing what it means." + +"Oh, pray allow me to let it drop." + +"Do you want to disoblige me?" + +"No, sister; but I have said quite enough for you to understand." + +"You have told me nothing." + +"Oh, sister, it is needless with me." + +"But really I am in earnest." + +"You wish me to speak?" + +"Immediately." + +"Not here," said he, looking at the others. + +"Yes, here; there cannot be too many at such an explanation." + +"Then you mean to say you were not at the last ball?" + +"I!" cried the queen, "at the ball at the Opera?" + +"Hush, I beg." + +"No, I will not hush; I will speak it aloud. You say I was at the ball?" + +"Certainly I do." + +"Perhaps you saw me?" she said ironically. + +"Yes, I did." + +"Me?" + +"Yes, you." + +"Oh, it is too much! Why did you not speak to me?" + +"Ma foi! I was just going to do so, when the crowd separated us." + +"You are mad!" + +"I should not have spoken of it. I have been very foolish." + +The queen rose, and walked up and down the room in great agitation. + +Andree trembled with fear and disquietude, and Jeanne could hardly keep +from laughing. + +Then the queen stopped, and said: + +"My friend, do not jest any more; you see, I am so passionate that I +have lost my temper already. Tell me at once that you were joking with +me." + +"I will, if you please, sister." + +"Be serious, Charles. You have invented all this, have you not?" + +He winked at the ladies, and said, "Oh, yes, of course." + +"You do not understand me, brother!" cried the queen vehemently. "Say +yes or no. Do not tell falsehoods; I only want the truth!" + +"Well, then, sister," said he, in a low voice, "I have told the truth, +but I am sorry I spoke." + +"You saw me there?" + +"As plain as I see you now; and you saw me." + +The queen uttered a cry, and, running up to Andree and Jeanne, cried, +"Ladies, M. le Comte d'Artois affirms that he saw me at the ball at the +Opera; let him prove it." + +"Well," said he, "I was with M. de Richelieu and others, when your mask +fell off." + +"My mask!" + +"I was about to say, 'This is too rash, sister,' but the gentleman with +you drew you away so quickly." + +"Oh, mon Dieu! you will drive me mad! What gentleman?" + +"The blue domino." + +The queen passed her hand over her eyes. + +"What day was this?" she asked. + +"Saturday. The next day I set off to hunt, before you were up." + +"What time do you say you saw me?" + +"Between two and three." + +"Decidedly one of us is mad!" + +"Oh, it is I. It is all a mistake. Do not be so afraid; there is no harm +done. At first I thought you were with the king; but the blue domino +spoke German, and he does not." + +"Well, brother, on Saturday I went to bed at eleven." + +The count bowed, with an incredulous smile. + +The queen rang. "Madame de Misery shall tell you." + +"Why do you not call Laurent also?" said he, laughing. + +"Oh!" cried the queen in a rage, "not to be believed!" + +"My dear sister, if I believed you, others would not." + +"What others?" + +"Those who saw you as well as myself." + +"Who were they?" + +"M. Philippe de Taverney, for instance." + +"My brother?" cried Andree. + +"Yes; shall we ask him?" + +"Immediately." + +"Mon Dieu!" murmured Andree, "my brother a witness!" + +"Yes; I wish it;" and she went to seek him at his father's. + +He was just leaving, after the scene we have described with his father, +when the messenger met him. He came quickly, and Marie Antoinette turned +to him at once. + +"Sir," said she, "are you capable of speaking the truth?" + +"Incapable of anything else, madame." + +"Well, then, say frankly, have you seen me at any public place within +the last week?" + +"Yes, madame." + +All hearts beat so that you might have heard them. + +"Where?" said the queen, in a terrible voice. + +Philippe was silent. + +"Oh, no concealment, sir! My brother says you saw me at the ball of the +Opera." + +"I did, madame." + +The queen sank on a sofa; then, rising furiously, she said: + +"It is impossible, for I was not there! Take care, M. de Taverney!" + +"Your majesty," said Andree, pale with anger, "if my brother says he saw +you, he did see you." + +"You also!" cried Marie Antoinette; "it only remains now for you to have +seen me. Pardieu! my enemies overwhelm me." + +"When I saw that the blue domino was not the king," said the Comte +d'Artois, "I believed him to be that nephew of M. de Suffren whom you +received so well here the other night." + +The queen colored. + +"Did it not look something like his tournure, M. de Taverney?" continued +the count. + +"I did not remark, monseigneur," said he, in a choking voice. + +"But I soon found out that it was not he; for suddenly I saw him before +me, and he was close by you when your mask fell off." + +"So he saw me too?" + +"If he were not blind, he did." + +The queen rang. + +"What are you about to do?" + +"Send for him also, and ask. I will drain this cup to the dregs!" + +"I do not think he can come," said Philippe. + +"Why?" + +"Because I believe he is not well." + +"Oh, he must come, monsieur! I am not well either, but I would go to the +end of the world barefoot to prove----" + +All at once Andree, who was near the window, uttered an exclamation. + +"What is it?" cried the queen. + +"Oh, nothing; only here comes M. de Charny." + +The queen, in her excitement, ran to the window, opened it, and cried, +"M. de Charny!" + +He, full of astonishment, hastened to enter. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. + +AN ALIBI. + + +M. de Charny entered, a little pale, but upright, and not apparently +suffering. + +"Take care, sister," said the Comte d'Artois; "what is the use of asking +so many people?" + +"Brother, I will ask the whole world, till I meet some one who will tell +you you are deceived." + +Charny and Philippe bowed courteously to each other, and Philippe said +in a low voice, "You are surely mad to come out wounded; one would say +you wished to die." + +"One does not die from the scratch of a thorn in the Bois de Boulogne," +replied Charny. + +The queen approached, and put an end to this conversation. "M. de +Charny," said she, "these gentlemen say that you were at the ball at the +Opera?" + +"Yes, your majesty." + +"Tell us what you saw there." + +"Does your majesty mean whom I saw there?" + +"Precisely; and no complaisant reserve, M. de Charny." + +"Must I say, madame?" + +The cheeks of the queen assumed once more that deadly paleness, which +had many times that morning alternated with a burning red. + +"Did you see me?" she asked. + +"Yes, your majesty, at the moment when your mask unhappily fell off." + +Marie Antoinette clasped her hands. + +"Monsieur," said she, almost sobbing, "look at me well; are you sure of +what you say?" + +"Madame, your features are engraved in the hearts of your subjects; to +see your majesty once is to see you forever." + +"But, monsieur," said she, "I assure you I was not at the ball at the +Opera." + +"Oh, madame," said the young man, bowing low, "has not your majesty the +right to go where you please?" + +"I do not ask you to find excuses for me; I only ask you to believe." + +"I will believe all your majesty wishes me to believe," cried he. + +"Sister, sister, it is too much," murmured the count. + +"No one believes me!" cried she, throwing herself on the sofa, with +tears in her eyes. + +"Sister, pardon me," said the count tenderly, "you are surrounded by +devoted friends; this secret, which terrifies you so, we alone know. It +is confined to our hearts, and no one shall drag it from us while we +have life." + +"This secret! oh, I want nothing but to prove the truth." + +"Madame," said Andree, "some one approaches." + +The king was announced. + +"The king! oh, so much the better. He is my only friend; he would not +believe me guilty even if he thought he saw me." + +The king entered with an air of calmness, in strange contrast to the +disturbed countenances of those present. + +"Sire," said the queen, "you come apropos; there is yet another calumny, +another insult to combat." + +"What is it?" said Louis, advancing. + +"An infamous report. Aid me, sire, for now it is no longer my enemies +that accuse me, but my friends." + +"Your friends!" + +"Yes, sire; M. le Comte d'Artois, M. de Taverney, and M. de Charny +affirm that they saw me at the ball at the Opera." + +"At the ball at the Opera!" cried the king. + +A terrible silence ensued. + +Madame de la Motte saw the mortal paleness of the queen, the terrible +disquietude of the king and of all the others, and with one word she +could have put an end to all this, and saved the queen, not only now, +but in the future, from much distress. But she said to herself that it +was too late; that they would see, if she spoke now, that she had +deceived them before when the simple truth would have been of such +advantage to the queen, and she should forfeit her newly-acquired favor. +So she remained silent. + +The king repeated, with an air of anguish, "At the ball at the Opera! +Does M. de Provence know this?" + +"But, sire, it is not true. M. le Comte d'Artois is deceived; M. de +Taverney is deceived; M. de Charny, you are deceived, one may be +mistaken." + +All bowed. + +"Come," continued she, "call all my people, ask every one. You say it +was Saturday?" + +"Yes, sister." + +"Well, what did I do on Saturday? Let some one tell me, for I think I am +going mad, and shall begin at last to believe that I did go to this +infamous ball. But, gentlemen, if I had been there I would have +confessed it." + +At this moment the king approached her, every cloud gone from his brow. +"Well, Marie," said he, "if it was Saturday, there is no need to call +your women, or only to ask them at what hour I came to your room. I +believe it was past eleven." + +"Oh!" cried the queen, joyfully, "you are right, sire." And she threw +herself into his arms; then, blushing and confused, she hid her face on +his shoulder, while he kissed her tenderly. + +"Well," said the Comte d'Artois, full of both surprise and joy, "I will +certainly buy spectacles. But on my word, I would not have lost this +scene for a million of money. Would you, gentlemen?" + +Philippe was leaning against the wainscot as pale as death. Charny wiped +the burning drops from his forehead. + +"Therefore, gentlemen," said the king, turning towards them, "I know it +to be impossible that the queen was that night at the ball at the +Opera. Believe it or not, as you please. The queen I am sure is content +that I know her to be innocent." + +"Well," said M. d'Artois, "Provence may say what he pleases, but I defy +his wife to prove an alibi in the same way, if she should be accused of +passing the night out." + +"Charles!" + +"Pardon, sire, now I will take my leave." + +"Well, I will go with you." And once more kissing the queen's hand, they +left the room. + +"M. de Taverney," said the queen severely, when they were gone, "do you +not accompany M. d'Artois?" + +Philippe started, all the blood rushed to his head, and he had hardly +strength to bow and leave the room. + +Andree was to be pitied also. She knew that Philippe would have given +the world to have taken M. de Charny away with him, but she felt as +though she could not follow to comfort him, leaving Charny alone with +the queen, or only with Madame de la Motte, who, she instinctively felt, +was worse than no one. But why this feeling? She could not love Charny; +that, she told herself, was impossible. So slight and recent an +acquaintance, and she who had vowed to love no one. Why then did she +suffer so much when Charny addressed words of such respectful devotion +to the queen? Was not this jealousy? "Yes," she thought, but only +jealousy that this woman should draw all hearts towards her, while the +whole world of gallantry and love passed her coldly by. It was no +attraction to be a living problem, ever cold and reserved like Andree; +they felt it, turned from her beauty and her intellect, and contented +themselves with mere politeness. Andree felt this deeply; but on the +night when they first met Charny, he showed towards her nothing of this +coldness or reserve; she was to him as interesting as any other +beautiful woman, and she felt cheered and warmed by it. But now the +queen absorbed his every look and thought, and left her lonely again; +therefore she did not follow her brother, although she suffered in his +sufferings, and almost idolized him. She did not, however, attempt to +mingle in the conversation, but sat down by the fire almost with her +back to the queen and Charny, while Madame de la Motte stood in one of +the deep windows, nearly out of sight, although she could observe all +that passed. + +The Queen remained silent for some minutes, then she said, almost to +herself, "Would any one believe that such things pass here?" Then, +turning to Charny, said, "We hear, sir, of the dangers of the sea and of +the fury of tempests, but you have doubtless encountered all their +assaults, and you are still safe and honored." + +"Madame----" + +"Then the English, our enemies, have attacked you with their guns and +their power, but still you are safe; and on account of the enemies you +have conquered, the king felicitates and admires you, and the people +bless and love you; therefore, blessed are such enemies who menace us +only with death. Our enemies do not endanger existence, it is true, but +they add years to our lives; they make us bow the head, fearing, though +innocent, to meet, as I have done, the double attacks of friends and +enemies. And then, sir, if you knew how hard it is to be hated!" + +Andree listened anxiously for his reply, but he only leaned against the +wall, and grew pale. + +The queen looked at him, and said, "It is too hot here; Madame de la +Motte, open the window; monsieur is accustomed to the fresh sea-breezes; +he would stifle in our boudoirs." + +"It is not that, madame; but I am on duty at two o'clock, and unless +your majesty wishes me to remain----" + +"Oh! no, monsieur; we know what duty is. You are free," said the queen, +in a tone of slight pique. + +Charny bowed, and disappeared like a man in haste; but in a minute they +heard from the ante-chamber the sound of a groan, and people hurrying +forward. The queen, who was near the door, opened it, and uttered an +exclamation; and was going out, when Andree rose quickly, saying, "Oh +no! madame." + +Then they saw through the open door the guards assisting M. de Charny, +who had fainted. The queen closed the door, and sat down again, pensive +and thoughtful. At last, she said, "It is an odd thing, but I do not +believe M. de Charny was convinced!" + +"Oh, madame! in spite of the king's word--impossible!" + +"He may have thought the king said it for his own sake." + +"My brother was not so incredulous," said Andree. + +"It would be very wrong," continued the queen, not heeding her; "he +could not have as noble a heart as I thought. But, after all, why should +he believe? He thought he saw me. They all thought so. There is +something in all this; something which I must clear up. Andree, I must +find out what it all means." + +"Your majesty is right; you must investigate it." + +"For," continued the queen, "people said they saw me at M. Mesmer's." + +"But your majesty was there," said Madame de la Motte. + +"Yes; but I did not do what they insist they saw me do. And they saw me +at the Opera, and I was not there. Oh!" cried she, "at last I guess the +truth." + +"The truth!" stammered the countess. + +"Oh! I hope so," said Andree. + +"Send for M. de Crosne," said the queen, joyously. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII. + +M. DE CROSNE. + + +M. de Crosne had felt himself in no slight degree embarrassed since his +interview with the king and queen. It was no light matter to have the +care of the interests of a crown and of the fame of a queen; and he +feared that he was about to encounter all the weight of a woman's anger +and a queen's indignation. He knew, however, that he had but done his +duty, and he entered, therefore, tranquilly, with a smile on his face. + +"Now, M. de Crosne," said the queen, "it is our turn for an +explanation." + +"I am at your majesty's orders." + +"You ought to know the cause of all that has happened to me, sir." + +M. de Crosne looked round him rather frightened. + +"Never mind these ladies," said the queen; "you know them both; you know +every one." + +"Nearly," said the magistrate; "and I know the effects, but not the +cause, of what has happened to your majesty." + +"Then I must enlighten you, although it is a disagreeable task. I might +tell you in private, but my thoughts and words are always open as the +day; all the world may know them. I attribute the attacks that have been +made upon me to the misconduct of some one who resembles me, and who +goes everywhere; and thus your agents have made these mistakes." + +"A resemblance!" cried M. de Crosne, too much occupied with the idea to +observe the unquiet look which Jeanne could not for a moment prevent +appearing. + +"Well, sir, do you think this impossible; or do you prefer to think that +I am deceiving you?" + +"Oh no, madame! but surely, however strong a resemblance may be, there +must be some points of difference to prevent people being so deceived." + +"It seems not, sir; some are deceived." + +"Oh! and I remember," said Andree, "when we lived at Taverney Maison +Rouge, we had a servant who very strongly----" + +"Resembled me?" + +"Most wonderfully, your majesty." + +"And what became of her?" + +"We did not then know the great generosity of your majesty's mind, and +my father feared that this resemblance might be disagreeable to you; and +when we were at Trianon we kept her out of sight." + +"You see, M. de Crosne. Ah! this interests you." + +"Much, madame." + +"Afterwards, dear Andree?" + +"Madame, this girl, who was of an ambitious disposition and troublesome +temper, grew tired of this quiet life, and had doubtless made bad +acquaintances, for one night when I went to bed I was surprised not to +see her; we sought her in vain, she had disappeared." + +"Did she steal anything?" + +"Nothing, madame." + +"You did not know all this, M. de Crosne?" + +"No, madame." + +"Thus, then, there is a woman whose resemblance to me is striking, and +you do not know her. I fear your police is badly organized." + +"No, madame; a police magistrate is but a man, and though the vulgar may +rate his power as something almost superhuman, your majesty is more +reasonable." + +"Still, sir, when a man has secured all possible powers for penetrating +secrets, when he pays agents and spies, and to such an extent as to know +every movement I make, he might prevent this sort of thing." + +"Madame, when your majesty passed the night out, I knew it, the day you +went to see madame at the Rue St. Claude; therefore my police is not +bad. When you went to M. Mesmer's, my agents saw you. When you went to +the Opera----" + +The queen started. + +"Pardon me, madame, if I saw you; but if your own brother-in-law mistook +you, surely an agent at a crown a day may be pardoned for having done +so. They thought they saw you, and reported accordingly; therefore my +police is not bad. They also knew this affair of the journalist, so well +punished by M. de Charny." + +"M. de Charny!" cried the queen and Andree in a breath. + +"Yes, madame: his blows are yet fresh on the shoulders of the +journalist." + +"M. de Charny committed himself with this fellow!" + +"I know it by my calumniated police, madame; and also, which was more +difficult, the duel which followed." + +"A duel! M. de Charny fought?" + +"With the journalist?" asked Andree. + +"No, madame; the journalist was too well beaten to give M. de Charny the +sword-thrust which made him faint here just now." + +"Wounded!" cried the queen; "how and when? He was here just now." + +"Oh!" said Andree, "I saw that he suffered." + +"What do you say?" cried the queen, almost angrily; "you saw that he +suffered, and did not mention it!" + +Andree did not reply. + +Jeanne, who wished to make a friend of her, came to her aid, saying, "I +also, madame, saw that M. de Charny had difficulty in standing up while +your majesty spoke to him." + +"Monsieur," said the queen again to M. de Crosne, "with whom and why did +M. de Charny fight?" + +"With a gentleman who---- But really, madame, it is useless now. The two +adversaries are friends again, for they spoke just now in your majesty's +presence." + +"In my presence!" + +"Yes, madame; the conqueror left about twenty minutes ago." + +"M. de Taverney!" cried the queen. + +"My brother!" murmured Andree. + +"I believe," said M. de Crosne, "that it was he with whom M. de Charny +fought." + +The queen made an angry gesture. "It is not right," she said; "these are +American manners brought to Versailles. It is not because one has fought +under M. Lafayette and Washington that my court should be disgraced by +such proceedings. Andree, did you know your brother had fought?" + +"Not till this moment, madame." + +"Why did he fight?" + +"If my brother fought," said Andree, "it was in your majesty's +service." + +"That is to say, that M. de Charny fought against me." + +"Your majesty, I spoke only of my brother, and of no one else." + +The queen tried hard to remain calm. She walked once or twice up and +down the room, and then said, "M. de Crosne, you have convinced me: I +was much disturbed by these rumors and accusations; your police is +efficient, but I beg you not to forget to investigate this resemblance +of which I have spoken. Adieu!" and she held out her hand to him with +her own peculiar grace. + +Andree made a movement to depart. The queen gave her a careless adieu. + +Jeanne also prepared to leave, when Madame de Misery entered. + +"Madame," said she to the queen, "did your majesty appoint this hour to +receive MM. Boehmer and Bossange?" + +"Oh, yes, it is true; let them come in. Remain a little longer, Madame +de la Motte; I want the king to make a full peace with you." Perhaps she +wished to pique Andree by this favor to a newcomer, but Andree did not +seem to heed. + +"All these Taverneys are made of iron," thought the queen. "Ah, +gentlemen, what do you bring me now? you know I have no money." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX. + +THE TEMPTRESS. + + +Madame de la Motte remained, therefore, as before. + +"Madame," replied M. Boehmer, "we do not come to offer anything to +your majesty, we should fear to be indiscreet; but we come to fulfil a +duty, and that has emboldened us----" + +"A duty?" + +"Concerning the necklace which your majesty did not deign to take." + +"Oh! then, the necklace has come again," said Marie Antoinette, +laughing. "It was really beautiful, M. Boehmer." + +"So beautiful," said Bossange, "that your majesty alone was worthy to +wear it." + +"My consolation is," said the queen, with a sigh which did not escape +Jeanne, "that it cost a million and a half. Was not that the price, M. +Boehmer?" + +"Yes, your majesty." + +"And in these times," continued the queen, "there is no sovereign that +can give such a sum for a necklace; so that although I cannot wear it, +no one else can: and once broken up, I should care nothing about it." + +"That is an error of your majesty's; the necklace is sold." + +"Sold!" cried the queen. "To whom?" + +"Ah! madame, that is a state secret." + +"Oh!" said the queen, "I think I am safe. A state secret means that +there is nothing to tell." + +"With your majesty," continued Boehmer, as gravely as ever, "we do not +act as with others. The necklace is sold, but in the most secret manner, +and an ambassador----" + +"I really think he believes it himself!" interrupted the queen, laughing +again. "Come, M. Boehmer, tell me at least the country he comes from, +or, at all events, the first letter of his name." + +"Madame, it is the ambassador from Portugal," said Boehmer, in a low +voice, that Madame de la Motte might not hear. + +"The ambassador from Portugal!" said the queen. "There is none here, M. +Boehmer." + +"He came expressly for this, madame." + +"Do you imagine so?" + +"Yes, madame." + +"What is his name?" + +"M. de Souza." + +The queen did not reply for a few minutes, and then said, "Well, so much +the better for the Queen of Portugal. Let us speak of it no more." + +"But allow us one moment, madame," said Boehmer. + +"Have you ever seen those diamonds?" said the queen to Jeanne. + +"No, madame." + +"They are beautiful. It is a pity these gentlemen have not brought +them." + +"Here they are," said Boehmer, opening the case. + +"Come, countess, you are a woman, and these will please you." + +Jeanne uttered a cry of admiration when she saw them, and said, "They +are indeed beautiful." + +"1,500,000 francs, which you hold in the palm of your hand," said the +queen. + +"Monsieur was right," said Jeanne, "when he said that no one was worthy +to wear these diamonds but your majesty." + +"However, my majesty will not wear them." + +"We could not let them leave France without expressing our regret to +your majesty. It is a necklace which is now known all over Europe, and +we wished to know definitively that your majesty really refused it +before we parted with it." + +"My refusal has been made public," said the queen, "and has been too +much applauded for me to repent of it." + +"Oh, madame!" said Boehmer, "if the people found it admirable that +your majesty preferred a ship of war to a necklace, the nobility at +least would not think it surprising if you bought the necklace after +all." + +"Do not speak of it any more," said Marie Antoinette, casting at the +same time a longing look at the casket. + +Jeanne sighed, "Ah, you sigh, countess; in my place you would act +differently." + +"I do not know, madame." + +"Have you looked enough?" + +"Oh no! I could look forever." + +"Let her look, gentlemen; that takes nothing from the value. +Unfortunately, they are still worth 1,500,000 francs." + +"Oh," thought Jeanne, "she is regretting it." And she said, "On your +neck, madame, they would make all women die with jealousy, were they as +beautiful as Cleopatra or Venus." And, approaching, she clasped it round +her neck. "Ah, your majesty is beautiful so!" + +The queen turned to the mirror. It was really splendid; every one must +have admired. Marie Antoinette forgot herself for a time in admiration; +then, seized with fear, she tried to take it off. + +"It has touched your majesty's neck; it ought not to belong to any one +else," said Boehmer. + +"Impossible!" said the queen, firmly. "Gentlemen, I have amused myself +with these jewels; to do more would be a fault." + +"We will return to-morrow," said Boehmer. + +"No; I must pay sooner or later; and, besides, doubtless you want your +money. You will get it soon." + +"Yes, your majesty," said the merchant, a man of business again. + +"Take the necklace back," said the queen; "put it away immediately." + +"Your majesty forgets that such a thing is equal to money itself." + +"And that in a hundred years it will be worth as much as it is now," +said Jeanne. + +"Give me 1,500,000 francs," said the queen, "and we shall see." + +"Oh, if I had them!" + +MM. Boehmer and Bossange took as long as possible to put back the +necklace, but the queen did not speak. + +At last they said, "Your majesty refuses them?" + +"Yes, oh yes!" And they quitted the room. + +Marie Antoinette remained sitting, looking rather gloomy, and beating +with her foot in an impatient manner; at last she said, "Countess, it +seems the king will not return; we must defer our supplication till +another time." + +Jeanne bowed respectfully. + +"But I will not forget you," added the queen. + +"She is regretting and desiring," thought Jeanne, as she left; "and yet +she is a queen." + + + + +CHAPTER XL. + +TWO AMBITIONS THAT WISH TO PASS FOR TWO LOVES. + + +When Jeanne returned to her pretty little house in the faubourg, it was +still early; so she took a pen and wrote a few rapid lines, enclosed +them in a perfumed envelope, and rang the bell. "Take this letter to +Monseigneur the Cardinal de Rohan," said she. + +In five minutes the man returned. + +"Well," said Madame de la Motte, impatiently, "why are you not gone?" + +"Just as I left the house, madame, his eminence came to the door. I told +him I was about to go to his hotel with a letter from you; he read it, +and is now waiting to come in." + +"Let him enter," said the countess. + +Jeanne had been thinking all the way home of the beautiful necklace, and +wishing it was hers. It would be a fortune in itself. + +The cardinal entered. He also was full of desires and ambitions, which +he wished to hide under the mask of love. + +"Ah, dear Jeanne," said he, "you have really become so necessary to me +that I have been gloomy all day knowing you to be so far off. But you +have returned from Versailles?" + +"As you see, monseigneur." + +"And content?" + +"Enchanted." + +"The queen received you, then?" + +"I was introduced immediately on my arrival." + +"You were fortunate. I suppose, from your triumphant air, that she spoke +to you." + +"I passed three hours in her majesty's cabinet." + +"Three hours! You are really an enchantress whom no one can resist. But +perhaps you exaggerate. Three hours!" he repeated; "how many things a +clever woman like you might say in three hours!" + +"Oh, I assure you, monseigneur, that I did not waste my time." + +"I dare say that in the whole three hours you did not once think of me." + +"Ungrateful man!" + +"Really!" cried the cardinal. + +"I did more than think of you; I spoke of you." + +"Spoke of me! to whom?" asked the prelate, in a voice from which all his +power over himself could not banish some emotion. + +"To whom should it be but to the queen?" + +"Ah, dear countess, tell me about it. I interest myself so much in all +that concerns you, that I should like to hear the most minute details." + +Jeanne smiled. She knew what interested the cardinal as well as he did +himself. Then she related to him all the circumstances which had so +fortunately made her, from a stranger, almost the friend and confidant +of the queen. + +Scarcely had she finished, when the servant entered to announce supper. + +Jeanne invited the cardinal to accompany her. + +He gave her his arm, and they went in together. + +During supper, the cardinal continued to drink in long draughts of love +and hope from the recitals which Jeanne kept making to him from time to +time. He remarked also, with surprise, that, instead of making herself +sought like a woman that knows that you have need of her, she had thrown +off all her former pride, and only seemed anxious to please him. She did +the honors of her table as if she had all her life mixed in the highest +circles; there was neither awkwardness nor embarrassment. + +"Countess," said he at length, "there are two women in you." + +"How so?" + +"One of yesterday, and another of to-day." + +"And which does your excellency prefer?" + +"I do not know, but at least the one of this evening is a Circe--a +something irresistible." + +"And which you will not attempt to resist, I hope, prince as you are." + +The cardinal imprinted a long kiss on her hand. + + + + +CHAPTER XLI. + +FACES UNDER THEIR MASKS. + + +Two hours had elapsed, and the conversation still continued. The +cardinal was now the slave, and Jeanne was triumphant. Two men often +deceive each other as they shake hands, a man and a woman as they kiss; +but here, each only deceived the other because they wished to be +deceived: each had an end to gain, and for that end intimacy was +necessary. + +The cardinal now did not demonstrate his impatience, but always managed +to bring back the conversation to Versailles, and to the honors which +awaited the queen's new favorite. + +"She is generous," said he, "and spares nothing towards those she loves. +She has the rare talent of giving a little to every one, and a great +deal to a few." + +"You think, then, she is rich?" + +"She makes resources with a word or a smile; no minister, except perhaps +Turgot, ever refused her anything." + +"Well," said Madame de la Motte, "I have seen her poorer than you +think." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Are those rich who are obliged to impose privations on themselves?" + +"Privations! What do you mean, dear countess?" + +"I will tell you what I saw--I saw the queen suffer. Do you know what a +woman's desire is, my dear prince?" + +"No, countess; but I should like you to tell me." + +"Well, the queen has a desire, which she cannot satisfy." + +"For what?" + +"For a diamond necklace." + +"Oh, I know what you mean--the diamonds of MM. Boehmer and Bossange." + +"Precisely." + +"That is an old story, countess." + +"Old or new, it is a real vexation for a queen not to be able to buy +what was intended for a simple favorite. Fifteen more days added to the +life of Louis XV., and Jeanne Vaubernier would have had what Marie +Antoinette cannot buy." + +"My dear countess, you mistake; the queen could have had it, and she +refused it; the king offered them to her." + +And he recounted the history of the ship of war. + +"Well," said she, "after all, what does that prove?" + +"That she did not want them, it seems to me." + +Jeanne shrugged her shoulders. + +"You know women and courts, and believe that? The queen wanted to do a +popular act, and she has done it." + +"Good!" said the cardinal; "that is how you believe in the royal +virtues. Ah, skeptic, St. Thomas was credulous, compared to you!" + +"Skeptic or not, I can assure you of one thing--that the queen had no +sooner refused it than she earnestly desired to have it." + +"You imagine all this, my dear countess; for if the queen has one +quality more than another, it is disinterestedness. She does not care +for gold or jewels, and likes a simple flower as well as a diamond." + +"I do not know that; I only know she wishes for this necklace." + +"Prove it, countess." + +"It is easy. I saw the necklace, and touched it." + +"Where?" + +"At Versailles, when the jewelers brought it for the last time to try +and tempt the queen." + +"And it is beautiful?" + +"Marvelous! I, who am a woman, think that one might lose sleep and +appetite in wishing for it." + +"Alas! why have I not a vessel to give the king?" + +"A vessel!" + +"Yes, for in return he would give me the necklace, and then you could +eat and sleep in peace." + +"You laugh." + +"No, really." + +"Well, I will tell you something that will astonish you. I would not +have the necklace." + +"So much the better, countess, for I could not give it to you." + +"Neither you nor any one--that is what the queen feels." + +"But I tell you that the king offered it to her." + +"And I tell you that women like best those presents that come from +people from whom they are not forced to accept them." + +"I do not understand you." + +"Well, never mind; and, after all, what does it matter to you, since you +cannot have it?" + +"Oh, if I were king and you were queen, I would force you to have it." + +"Well, without being king, oblige the queen to have it, and see if she +is angry, as you suppose she would be." + +The cardinal looked at her with wonder. + +"You are sure," said he, "that you are not deceived, and that the queen +wishes for it?" + +"Intensely. Listen, dear prince. Did you tell me, or where did I hear +it, that you would like to be minister?" + +"You may have heard me say so, countess." + +"Well, I will bet that the queen would make that man a minister who +would place the necklace on her toilet within a week." + +"Oh, countess!" + +"I say what I think. Would you rather I kept silent?" + +"Certainly not." + +"However, it does not concern you, after all. It is absurd to suppose +that you would throw away a million and a half on a royal caprice; that +would be paying too dearly for the portfolio, which you ought to have +for nothing, so think no more of what I have said." + +The cardinal continued silent and thoughtful. + +"Ah, you despise me now!" continued she; "you think I judge the queen by +myself. So I do; I thought she wanted these diamonds because she sighed +as she looked at them, and because in her place I should have coveted +them." + +"You are an adorable woman, countess! You have, by a wonderful +combination, softness of mind and strength of heart; sometimes you are +so little of a woman that I am frightened; at others, so charmingly so, +that I bless Heaven and you for it. And now we will talk of business no +more." + +"So be it," thought Jeanne; "but I believe the bait has taken, +nevertheless." + +Indeed, although the cardinal said, "Speak of it no more," in a few +minutes he asked, "Does not Boehmer live somewhere on the Quai de la +Ferraille, near the Pont Neuf?" + +"Yes, you are right; I saw the name on the door as I drove along." + +Jeanne was not mistaken--the fish had taken the hook; and the next +morning the cardinal drove to M. Boehmer. He intended to preserve his +incognito, but they knew him, and called him "Monseigneur" directly. + +"Well, gentlemen," said he, "if you know me, keep my secret from +others." + +"Monseigneur may rely upon us. What can we do for your eminence?" + +"I come to buy the necklace which you showed her majesty." + +"Really we are in despair, but it is too late." + +"How so?" + +"It is sold." + +"Impossible, as you offered it only yesterday to the queen." + +"Who again refused it, so our other bargain held good." + +"And with whom was this bargain?" + +"It is secret, monseigneur." + +"Too many secrets, M. Boehmer," said he, rising; "but I should have +thought that a French jeweler would prefer selling these beautiful +stones in France. You prefer Portugal--very well." + +"Monseigneur knows that!" cried the jeweler. + +"Well, is that astonishing?" + +"No one knew it but the queen." + +"And if that were so?" said M. de Rohan without contradicting a +supposition that flattered him. + +"Ah! that would change matters." + +"Why so, sir?" + +"May I speak freely?" + +"Certainly." + +"The queen wishes for the necklace." + +"You think so?" + +"I am sure of it." + +"Then why did she not buy it?" + +"Because she had already refused the king, and she thought it would look +capricious to buy it now." + +"But the king wished her to have it." + +"Yes, but he thanked her for refusing; therefore I think she wishes to +have it without seeming to buy it." + +"Well, you are wrong, sir." + +"I am sorry for it, monseigneur. It would have been our only excuse for +breaking our word to the Portuguese ambassador." + +The cardinal reflected for a moment. "Then, sir, let us suppose that the +queen wishes for your necklace." + +"Oh! in that case, monseigneur, we would break through anything, that +she should have it." + +"What is the price?" + +"1,500,000 francs." + +"How do you want payment?" + +"The Portuguese was to give 100,000 francs down, and I was to take the +necklace myself to Lisbon, where the balance was to be paid." + +"Well, the 100,000 francs down you shall have; that is reasonable. As +for the rest----" + +"Your eminence wishes for time? With such a guarantee, we should not +object; only credit implies a loss. The interest of our money must be +considered." + +"Well, call it 1,600,000 francs, and divide the time of payment into +three periods, making a year." + +"That would be a loss to us, sir." + +"Oh! nonsense; if I paid you the whole amount to-morrow, you would +hardly know what to do with it." + +"There are two of us, monseigneur." + +"Well, you will receive 500,000 francs every four months. That ought to +satisfy you." + +"Monseigneur forgets that these diamonds do not belong to us; if they +did, we should be rich enough to wait; they belong to a dozen different +creditors. We got some from Hamburg, some from Naples, one at Buenos +Ayres, and one at Moscow. All these people wait for the sale of the +necklace to be paid. The profit that we make is all that will be ours; +and we have already had it two years on hand." + +M. de Rohan interrupted him. "After all," said he, "I have not seen the +necklace." + +"True, monseigneur; here it is." + +"It is really superb," cried the cardinal; "it is a bargain?" + +"Yes, monseigneur. I must go to the ambassador and excuse myself." + +"I did not think there was a Portuguese ambassador just now." + +"M. de Souza arrived incognito." + +"To buy this necklace?" + +"Yes, monseigneur." + +"Oh! poor Souza, I know him well," said he, laughing. + +"With whom am I to conclude the transaction?" asked M. Boehmer. + +"With myself; you will see no one else. To-morrow I will bring the +100,000 francs, and will sign the agreement. And as you are a man of +secrets, M. Boehmer, remember that you now possess an important one." + +"Monseigneur, I feel it, and will merit your confidence and the +queen's." + +M. de Rohan went away happy, like all men who ruin themselves in a +transport of passion. + +The next day M. Boehmer went to the hotel of the Portuguese +ambassador. At the moment he knocked at the door, M. Beausire was going +through some accounts with M. Ducorneau, while Don Manoel was taking +over some new plan with the valet, his associate. + +M. Ducorneau was charmed to find an ambassador so free from national +prejudice as to have formed his whole establishment of Frenchmen. Thus +his conversation was full of praises of him. + +"The Souzas, you see," replied Beausire, "are not of the old school of +Portuguese. They are great travelers, very rich, who might be kings if +they liked." + +"And do they not?" + +"Why should they? With a certain number of millions, and the name of a +prince, one is better than a king." + +"Ah, Portugal will soon become great with such men at its head. But when +is the presentation to take place? It is most anxiously looked for. The +people around begin to talk of it, and to collect about the doors of the +hotel, as though they were of glass, and they could see through." + +"Do you mean the people of the neighborhood?" asked Beausire. + +"And others; for, the mission of M. de Souza being a secret one, you may +be sure the police would soon interest themselves about it; and look," +continued Ducorneau, leading Beausire to the window, "do you see that +man in the brown surtout, how he looks at the house?" + +"Yes, he does indeed. Who do you take him to be?" + +"Probably a spy of M. de Crosne. However, between ourselves, M. de +Crosne is not equal to M. Sartines. Did you know him?" + +"No." + +"Ah! he would have found out all about you long ago, in spite of all +your precautions." + +A bell rang. "His excellency rings!" said Beausire, who was beginning to +feel embarrassed by the conversation, and opening the door quickly, he +nearly knocked down two of the clerks who were listening. + + + + +CHAPTER XLII. + +IN WHICH M. DUCORNEAU UNDERSTANDS NOTHING OF WHAT IS PASSING. + + +Don Manoel was less yellow than usual, that is to say, he was more red. +He had just been having a fierce altercation with his valet, and they +were still disputing when Beausire entered. + +"Come, M. Beausire, and set us right," said the valet. + +"About what?" + +"This 100,000 francs. It is the property of the association, is it not?" + +"Certainly." + +"Ah, M. Beausire agrees with me." + +"Wait," said Don Manoel. + +"Well, then," continued the valet, "the chest ought not to be kept close +to the ambassador's room." + +"Why not?" asked Beausire. + +"M. Manoel ought to give us each a key to it." + +"Not so," said Manoel; "do you suspect me of wishing to rob the +association? I may equally suspect you, when you ask for a key." + +"But," said the valet, "we have all equal rights." + +"Really, monsieur, if you wish to make us all equal, we ought to have +played the ambassador in turn. It would have been less plausible in the +eyes of the public, but it would have satisfied you." + +"And besides," said Beausire, "M. Manoel has the incontestable privilege +of the inventor." + +"Oh," replied the valet, "the thing once started, there are no more +privileges. I do not speak for myself only; all our comrades think the +same." + +"They are wrong," said both Manoel and Beausire. + +"I was wrong myself to take the opinion of M. Beausire; of course the +secretary supports the ambassador." + +"Monsieur," replied Beausire, "you are a knave, whose ears I would slit, +if it had not already been done too often. You insult me by saying that +I have an understanding with Manoel." + +"And me also," said Manoel. + +"And I demand satisfaction," added Beausire. + +"Oh, I am no fighter." + +"So I see," said Beausire, seizing hold of him. + +"Help! help!" cried the valet, attacked at once by both of them. But +just then they heard a bell ring. + +"Leave him, and let him open the door," said Manoel. + +"Our comrades shall hear all this," replied the valet. + +"Tell them what you please; we will answer for our conduct." + +"M. Boehmer!" cried the porter from below. + +"Well, we shall have no more contests about the 100,000 francs," said +Manoel; "for they will disappear with M. Boehmer." + +M. Boehmer entered, followed by Bossange. Both looked humble and +embarrassed. Boehmer began, and explained that political reasons would +prevent their fulfilling their contract. + +Manoel cried out angrily; Beausire looked fierce. + +Manoel said "that the bargain was completed, and the money ready." + +Boehmer persisted. + +Manoel, always through Beausire, replied, "that his Government had been +apprised of the conclusion of the bargain, and that it was an insult to +his queen to break it off." + +M. Boehmer was very sorry, but it was impossible to act otherwise. + +Beausire, in Manoel's name, refused to accept the retractation, and +abused M. Boehmer as a man without faith, and ended by saying, "You +have found some one to pay more for it." + +The jewelers colored. + +Beausire saw that he was right, and feigned to consult his ambassador. +"Well," said he at length, "if another will give you more for your +diamonds, we would do the same, rather than have this affront offered to +our queen. Will you take 50,000 francs more?" + +Boehmer shook his head. + +"100,000, or even 150,000," continued Beausire, willing to offer +anything rather than lose the booty. + +The jewelers looked dazzled for a moment, consulted together, and then +said, "No, monsieur, it is useless to tempt us. A will more powerful +than our own compels us to decline. You understand, no doubt, that it is +not we who refuse. We only obey the orders of one greater than any of +us." + +Beausire and Manoel saw that it was useless to say more, and tried to +look and speak indifferently on the matter. + +Meanwhile the valet had been listening attentively, and just then making +an unlucky movement, stumbled against the door. Beausire ran to the +ante-chamber. "What on earth are you about?" cried he. + +"Monsieur, I bring the morning despatches." + +"Good," said Beausire, taking them from him, "now go." + +They were letters from Portugal, generally very insignificant, but +which, passing through their hands before going to Ducorneau, often gave +them useful information about the affairs of the embassy. + +The jewelers, hearing the word despatches, rose to leave like men who +had received their conge. + +"Well," said Manoel, when they were gone, "we are completely beaten. +Only 100,000 francs, a poor spoil; we shall have but 8,000 each." + +"It is not worth the trouble. But it might be 50,000 each." + +"Good," replied Manoel, "but the valet will never leave us now he knows +the affair has failed." + +"Oh, I know how we will manage him. He will return immediately, and +claim his share and that of his comrades, and we shall have the whole +house on our hands. Well, I will call him first to a secret conference; +then leave me to act." + +"I think I understand," said Manoel. + +Neither, however, would leave his friend alone with the chest while he +went to call him. + +Manoel said "that his dignity as ambassador prevented him from taking +such a step." + +"You are not ambassador to him," said Beausire; "however, I will call +through the window." + +The valet, who was just beginning a conversation with the porter, +hearing himself called, came up. + +Beausire said to him, with a smiling air, "I suppose you were telling +this business to the porter?" + +"Oh, no." + +"Are you sure?" + +"I swear!" + +"For if you were, you were committing a great folly, and have lost a +great deal of money." + +"How so?" + +"Why, at present only we three know the secret, and could divide the +100,000 francs between us, as they all now think we have given it to M. +Boehmer." + +"Morbleu!" cried the valet, "it is true: 33,300 francs each." + +"Then you accept?" + +"I should think so." + +"I said you were a rogue," said Beausire, in a thundering voice; "come, +Don Manoel, help me to seize this man, and give him up to our +associates." + +"Pardon! pardon!" cried the unfortunate, "I did but jest." + +"Shut him up until we can devise his punishment." + +The man began to cry out. + +"Take care," said Beausire, "that Ducorneau does not hear us." + +"If you do not leave me alone," said the valet, "I will denounce you +all." + +"And I will strangle you," said Don Manoel, trying to push him into a +neighboring closet. + +"Send away Ducorneau somewhere, Beausire, while I finish this fellow." + +When he had locked him up, he returned to the room. Beausire was not +there; Don Manoel felt tempted. He was alone, and Beausire might be some +little time; he could open the chest, take out all the bank-notes, and +be off in two minutes. He ran to the room where it was: the door was +locked. "Ah," thought he, "Beausire distrusted me, and locked the door +before he went." He forced back the lock with his sword, and then +uttered a terrible cry. The chest was opened and empty. Beausire had +got, as we know, a second key; he had forestalled Manoel. + +Manoel ran down like a madman; the porter was singing at the door--he +asked if Beausire had passed. + +"Yes, some ten minutes ago." + +Manoel became furious, summoned them all, and ran to release the +unfortunate valet. But when he told his story, Manoel was accused of +being an accomplice of Beausire, and they all turned against him. + +M. Ducorneau felt ready to faint, when he entered and saw the men +preparing to hang M. de Souza. "Hang M. de Souza!" cried he. "It is high +treason." + +At last they threw him into a cellar, fearing his cries would arouse the +neighborhood. + +At that moment loud knocks at the door disturbed them,--they looked at +each other in dismay. The knocks were repeated, and some one cried, +"Open in the name of the Portuguese ambassador." + +On hearing this, each made his escape in terror, as he best could, +scrambling over walls and roofs. The true ambassador could only enter by +the help of the police. + +They found and arrested M. Ducorneau, who slept that night in the +Chatelet. + +Thus ended the adventure of the sham embassy from the Portugal. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII. + +ILLUSIONS AND REALITIES. + + +Beausire, on leaving the house, ran as fast as possible down the Rue +Coquilliere, then into the Rue St. Honore, and took everywhere the most +intricate and improbable turnings he could think of, and continued this +until he became quite exhausted. Then, thinking himself tolerably safe, +he sat down in the corn market, on a sack, to recover his breath. "Ah!" +thought he, "now I have made my fortune; I will be an honest man for the +future, and I will make Oliva an honest woman. She is beautiful, and she +will not mind leading a retired life with me in some province, where we +shall live like lords. She is very good; she has but two faults, +idleness and pride, and as I shall satisfy her on both these points, she +will be perfect." He then began to reflect on what he should do next. +They would seek him, of course, and most likely divide into different +parties, and some would probably go first to his own house. Here lay his +great difficulty, for there they would find Oliva, and they might +ill-treat her. They might even take her as a hostage, speculating on his +love for her. What should he do? Love carried the day; he ran off again +like lightning, took a coach, and drove to the Pont Neuf. He then looked +cautiously down the Rue Dauphine to reconnoiter, and he saw two men, who +seemed also looking anxiously down the street. He thought they were +police spies, but that was nothing uncommon in that part of the town; +so, bending his back, and walking lamely, for disguise, he went on till +he nearly reached his house. Suddenly he thought he saw the coat of a +gendarme in the courtyard; then he saw one at the window of Oliva's +room. He felt ready to drop, but he thought his best plan was to walk +quietly on; he had that courage, and passed the house. Heavens! what a +sight! the yard was full of soldiers, and among them a police +commissioner. Beausire's rapid glance showed him what he thought +disappointed faces. He thought that M. de Crosne had somehow begun to +suspect him, and, sending to take him, had found only Oliva. + +"I cannot help her now," thought he; "I should only lose my money and +destroy us both. No, let me place that in safety, and then I will see +what can be done." He therefore ran off again, taking his way almost +mechanically towards the Luxembourg; but as he turned the corner of the +Rue St. Germain, he was almost knocked down by a handsome carriage which +was driving towards the Rue Dauphine, and, raising his head to swear at +the coachman, he thought he saw Oliva inside, talking with much +animation to a handsome man who sat by her. He gave a cry of surprise, +and would have run after it, but he could not again encounter the Rue +Dauphine. He felt bewildered, for he had before settled that Oliva had +been arrested in her own house, and he fancied his brain must be turning +when he believed he saw her in the carriage. But he started off again +and took refuge in a small cabaret at the Luxembourg, where the hostess +was an old friend. There he gradually began to recover again his courage +and hope. He thought the police would not find him, and that his money +was safe. He remembered also that Oliva had committed no crime, and that +the time was passed when people were kept prisoners for nothing. He also +thought that his money would soon obtain her release, even if she were +sent to prison, and he would then set off with her for Switzerland. Such +were his dreams and projects as he sat sipping his wine. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV. + +OLIVA BEGINS TO ASK WHAT THEY WANT OF HER. + + +If M. Beausire had trusted to his eyesight, which was excellent, instead +of trusting his imagination, he would have spared himself much regret +and many mistakes. It was, in fact, Oliva who sat in the carriage by the +side of a man, whom he would also have recognized if he had looked a +little longer. She had gone that morning, as usual, to take a walk in +the gardens of the Luxembourg, where she had met the strange friend +whose acquaintance she had made the day of the ball at the Opera. + +It was just as she was about to return that he appeared before her, and +said, "Where are you going?" + +"Home, monsieur." + +"Just what the people want who are there waiting for you." + +"Waiting for me? No one is there for me." + +"Oh, yes, a dozen visitors at least." + +"A whole regiment, perhaps?" said Oliva, laughing. + +"Perhaps, had it been possible to send a whole regiment, they would have +done so." + +"You astonish me!" + +"You would be far more astonished if I let you go." + +"Why?" + +"Because you would be arrested." + +"I! arrested?" + +"Assuredly. The twelve gentlemen who wait for you are sent by M. de +Crosne." + +Oliva trembled. Some people are always fearful on certain points. But +she said: + +"I have done nothing; why should they arrest me?" + +"For some intrigue, perhaps." + +"I have none." + +"But you have had." + +"Oh, perhaps." + +"Well, perhaps they are wrong to wish to arrest you, but the fact is +that they do desire to do so. Will you still go home?" + +"You deceive me," said Oliva; "if you know anything, tell me at once. Is +it not Beausire they want?" + +"Perhaps; he may have a conscience less clear than yours." + +"Poor fellow!" + +"Pity him, if you like; but if he is taken, there is no need for you to +be taken too." + +"What interest have you in protecting me?" asked she. "It is not natural +for a man like you." + +"I would not lose time if I were you; they are very likely to seek you +here, finding you do not return." + +"How should they know I am here?" + +"Are you not always here? My carriage is close by, if you will come with +me. But I see you doubt still." + +"Yes." + +"Well, we will commit an imprudence to convince you. We will drive past +your house, and when you have seen these gentlemen there, I think you +will better appreciate my good offices." + +He led her to the carriage, and drove to the Rue Dauphine, at the corner +of which they passed Beausire. Had Oliva seen him, doubtless she would +have abandoned everything to fly with him and share his fate, whatever +it might be; but Cagliostro, who did see him, took care to engage her +attention by showing her the crowd, which was already in sight, and +which was waiting to see what the police would do. + +When Oliva could distinguish the soldiers who filled her house, she +threw herself into the arms of her protector in despair. "Save me! save +me!" she cried. + +He pressed her hand. "I promise you." + +"But they will find me out anywhere." + +"Not where I shall take you; they will not seek you at my house." + +"Oh!" cried she, frightened, "am I to go home with you?" + +"You are foolish," said he; "I am not your lover, and do not wish to +become so. If you prefer a prison, you are free to choose." + +"No," replied she, "I trust myself to you, take me where you please." + +He conducted her to the Rue Neuve St. Gilles, into a small room on the +second floor. + +"How triste!" said she; "here, without liberty, and without even a +garden to walk in." + +"You are right," said he; "besides, my people would see you here at +last." + +"And would betray me, perhaps." + +"No fear of that. But I will look out for another abode for you; I do +not mean you to remain here." + +Oliva was consoled; besides, she found amusing books and easy-chairs. + +He left her, saying, "If you want me, ring; I will come directly if I am +at home." + +"Ah!" cried she, "get me some news of Beausire." + +"Before everything." Then, as he went down, he said to himself, "It will +be a profanation to lodge her in that house in the Rue St. Claude; but +it is important that no one should see her, and there no one will. So I +will extinguish the last spark of my old light." + + + + +CHAPTER XLV. + +THE DESERTED HOUSE. + + +When Cagliostro arrived at the deserted house in the Rue St. Claude, +with which our readers are already acquainted, it was getting dark, and +but few people were to be seen in the streets. + +Cagliostro drew a key from his pocket, and applied it to the lock; but +the door was swollen with the damp, and stiff with age, and it required +all his strength to open it. The courtyard was overgrown with moss, the +steps crumbling away; all looked desolate and deserted. He entered the +hall, and lighted a lamp which he had brought with him. He felt a +strange agitation as he approached the door which he had so often +entered to visit Lorenza. A slight noise made his heart beat quickly; he +turned, and saw an adder gliding down the staircase; it disappeared in a +hole near the bottom. + +He entered the room; it was empty, but in the grate still lay some +ashes, the remains of the furniture which had adorned it, and which he +had burned there. Among it several pieces of gold and silver still +sparkled. As he turned, he saw something glittering on the floor; he +picked it up. It was one of those silver arrows with which the Italian +women were in the habit of confining their hair. He pressed it to his +lips, and a tear stood in his eyes as he murmured, "Lorenza!" It was but +for a moment; then he opened the window and threw it out, saying to +himself, "Adieu! this last souvenir, which would soften me. This house +is about to be profaned--another woman will ascend the staircase, and +perhaps even into this room, where Lorenza's last sigh still vibrates; +but to serve my end the sacrifice shall be made. I must, however, have +some alterations made." + +He then wrote on his tablets the following words: "To M. Lenoir, my +architect,--Clean out the court and vestibule, restore the coach-house +and stable, and demolish the interior of the pavilion. To be done in +eight days." + +"Now, let us see," said he to himself, "if we can perfectly distinguish +the window of the countess. It is infallible," said he, after looking +out; "the women must see each other." + +The next day fifty workmen had invaded the house and commenced the +projected alterations, which were completed within the given time. Some +of the passers-by saw a large rat hung up by the tail. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVI. + +JEANNE THE PROTECTRESS. + + +M. le Cardinal de Rohan received, two days after his visit to M. +Boehmer, the following note: + + "His Eminence the Cardinal de Rohan knows, doubtless, where he will + sup this evening." + +"From the little countess," said he; "I will go." + +Among the footmen given to her by the cardinal, Jeanne had distinguished +one, black-haired and dark-eyed, and, as she thought, active and +intelligent. She set this man to watch the cardinal, and learned from +him that he had been twice to M. Boehmer's. Therefore she concluded +the necklace was bought, and yet he had not communicated it to her. She +frowned at the thought, and wrote the note which we have seen. + +M. de Rohan sent before him a basket of Tokay and other rarities, just +as if he was going to sup with La Guimard or Mademoiselle Dangeville. +Jeanne determined not to use any of it at supper. + +"When they were alone, she said to him: + +"Really, monseigneur, one thing afflicts me." + +"What, countess?" + +"To see, not only that you no longer love me, but that you never have +loved me." + +"Oh, countess! how can you say so?" + +"Do not make excuses, monseigneur; it would be lost time." + +"Oh, countess!" + +"Do not be uneasy; I am quite indifferent about it now." + +"Whether I love you or not?" + +"Yes, because I do not love you." + +"That is not flattering." + +"Indeed, we are not exchanging compliments, but facts. We have never +loved each other." + +"Oh, as for myself, I cannot allow that; I have a great affection for +you, countess." + +"Come, monseigneur, let us esteem each other enough to speak the truth, +and that is, that there is between us a much stronger bond than +love--that is, interest." + +"Oh, countess, what a shame!" + +"Monseigneur, if you are ashamed, I am not." + +"Well, countess, supposing ourselves interested, how can we serve each +other?" + +"First, monseigneur, I wish to ask you a question. Why have you failed +in confidence towards me?" + +"I! How so, pray?" + +"Will you deny that, after skilfully drawing from me the details--which, +I confess, I was not unwilling to give you--concerning the desire of a +certain great lady for a certain thing, you have taken means to gratify +that desire without telling me?" + +"Countess, you are a real enigma, a sphinx." + +"Oh, no enigma, cardinal; I speak of the queen, and of the diamonds +which you bought yesterday of MM. Boehmer and Bossange." + +"Countess!" cried he, growing pale. + +"Oh, do not look so frightened," continued she. "Did you not conclude +your bargain yesterday?" + +He did not speak, but looked uncomfortable, and half angry. She took his +hand. + +"Pardon, prince," she said, "but I wished to show you your mistake about +me; you believe me foolish and spiteful." + +"Oh, countess, now I understand you perfectly. I expected to find you a +pretty woman and a clever one, but you are better than this. Listen to +me: you have, you say, been willing to become my friend without loving +me?" + +"I repeat it," replied she. + +"Then you had some object?" + +"Assuredly. Do you wish me to tell it to you?" + +"No; I understand it. You wished to make my fortune; that once done, you +are sure that my first care would be for yours. Am I right?" + +"Yes, monseigneur; but I have not pursued my plans with any +repugnance--the road has been a pleasant one." + +"You are an amiable woman, countess, and it is a pleasure to discuss +business with you. You have guessed rightly that I have a respectful +attachment towards a certain person." + +"I saw it at the Opera ball," she said. + +"I know well that this affection will never be returned." + +"Oh, a queen is only a woman, and you are surely equal to Cardinal +Mazarin." + +"He was a very handsome man," said M. de Rohan, laughing. + +"And an excellent minister," said Jeanne. + +"Countess, it is superfluous trouble to talk to you; you guess and know +everything. Yes, I do wish to become prime minister. Everything entitles +me to it--my birth, my knowledge of business, my standing with foreign +courts, and the affection which is felt for me by the French people." + +"There is but one obstacle," said Jeanne. + +"An antipathy." + +"Yes, of the queen's; and the king always ends by liking what she likes, +and hating what she hates." + +"And she hates me? Be frank, countess." + +"Well, monseigneur, she does not love you." + +"Then I am lost! Of what use is the necklace?" + +"You deceive yourself, prince." + +"It is bought." + +"At least, it will show the queen that you love her. You know, +monseigneur, we have agreed to call things by their right names." + +"Then you say you do not despair of seeing me one day prime minister?" + +"I am sure of it." + +"And what are your own ambitions?" + +"I will tell you, prince, when you are in a position to satisfy them." + +"We will hope for that day." + +"Now let us sup." + +"I am not hungry." + +"Then let us talk." + +"I have nothing more to say." + +"Then go." + +"How! is that what you call our alliance? Do you send me away?" + +"Yes, monseigneur." + +"Well, countess, I will not deceive myself again about you." Before +leaving, however, he turned, and said, "What must I do now, countess?" + +"Nothing; wait for me to act. I will go to Versailles." + +"When?" + +"To-morrow." + +"And when shall I hear from you?" + +"Immediately." + +"Then I abandon myself to your protection; au revoir, countess." + + + + +CHAPTER XLVII. + +JEANNE PROTECTED. + + +Mistress of such a secret, rich in such a future, and supported by such +a friend, Jeanne felt herself strong against the world. To appear at +court, no longer as a suppliant, as the poor mendicant, drawn from +poverty by Madame de Boulainvilliers, but as a Valois, with an income of +100,000 francs; to be called the favorite of the queen, and consequently +governing the king and state through her.--Such was the panorama that +floated before the eyes of Jeanne. + +She went to Versailles. She had no audience promised, but she trusted to +her good fortune, and as the queen had received her so well before, all +the officials were anxious to serve her. Therefore, one of the +doorkeepers said aloud, as the queen came from chapel, to one of her +gentlemen, "Monsieur, what am I to do? Here is Madame la Comtesse de la +Motte Valois asking admission, and she has no letter of audience." + +The queen heard and turned round. "Did you say Madame de la Motte Valois +was here?" she asked. + +"Your majesty, the doorkeeper says so." + +"I will receive her; bring her to the bath-room." + +The man told Jeanne what he had done. She drew out her purse; but he +said, "Will Madame la Comtesse allow this debt to accumulate? Some day +she can pay me with interest." + +"You are right, my friend; I thank you." + +Marie Antoinette looked serious when Jeanne entered. + +"She supposes I am come again to beg," thought Jeanne. + +"Madame," said the queen, "I have not yet had an opportunity to speak to +the king." + +"Oh, your majesty has already done too much for me; I ask nothing more. +I came----" she hesitated. + +"Is it something urgent, that you did not wait to ask for an audience?" + +"Urgent! Yes, madame; but not for myself." + +"For me, then?" and the queen conducted her into the bath-room, where +her women were waiting for her. Once in the bath, she sent them away. + +"Now, countess." + +"Madame," said Jeanne, "I am much embarrassed." + +"Why so?" + +"Your majesty knows the kindness I have received from M. de Rohan." + +The queen frowned. "Well, madame?" + +"Yesterday his eminence came to see me, and spoke to me as usual of your +majesty's goodness and kindness." + +"What does he want?" + +"I expressed to him all my sense of your generosity, which constantly +empties your purse, and told him that I felt almost guilty in thinking +of your majesty's gift to myself, and remembering that were it not for +such liberality your majesty need not have been forced to deny yourself +the beautiful necklace which became you so well. When I related this +circumstance to M. de Rohan, I saw him grow pale and the tears came into +his eyes. Indeed, madame, his fine face, full of admiration for, and +emotion caused by, your noble conduct, is ever before my eyes." + +"Well, countess, if he has impressed you so deeply, I advise you not to +let him see it. M. de Rohan is a worldly prelate, and gathers the sheep +as much for himself as for his Lord." + +"Oh, madame!" + +"It is not I who say it: that is his reputation; he almost glories in +it; his trophies are numerous, and some of them have made no little +scandal." + +"Well, madame, I am sure he thought then of no one but your majesty." + +The queen laughed. + +"Your majesty's modesty will not allow you to listen to praises." + +"Not from the cardinal--I suspect them all." + +"It is not my part," replied Jeanne, respectfully, "to defend any one +who has incurred your majesty's displeasure." + +"M. de Rohan has offended me, but I am a queen and a Christian, and do +not wish to dwell on offenses." + +Jeanne was silent. + +"You think differently to me on this subject?" + +"Completely, your majesty." + +"You would not speak so if you knew what he has done against me; but as +you have so great a friendship for him, I will not attack him again +before you. You have not, then, forgotten the diamonds?" + +"Oh, madame, I have thought of them night and day. They will look so +well on your majesty." + +"What do you mean? They are sold to the Portuguese ambassador." + +Jeanne shook her head. + +"Not sold!" cried the queen. + +"Yes, madame, but to M. de Rohan." + +"Oh," said the queen, becoming suddenly cold again. + +"Oh! your majesty," cried Jeanne; "do not be ungenerous towards him. It +was the impulse of a generous heart that your majesty should understand +and sympathize with. When he heard my account he cried,--'What! the +queen refuse herself such a thing, and perhaps see it one day worn by +one of her subjects!' And when I told him that it was bought for the +Queen of Portugal, he was more indignant than ever. He cried, 'It is no +longer a simple question of pleasure for the queen, but of the dignity +of the French crown. I know the spirit of foreign courts; they will +laugh at our queen because they happen to have more money to spare: and +I will never suffer this.' And he left me abruptly. An hour after I +heard that he had bought the necklace." + +"For 1,500,000 francs?" + +"1,600,000, madame." + +"With what intention?" + +"That at least if your majesty would not have them no one else should." + +"Are you sure it is not for some mistress?" + +"I am sure he would rather break it to pieces than see it on any other +neck than your own." + +Marie Antoinette reflected, and her expressive countenance showed +clearly every thought that passed through her mind. At last she said: + +"What M. de Rohan has done is a noble trait of a delicate devotion, and +you will thank him for me." + +"Oh yes, madame." + +"You will add, that he has proved to me his friendship, and that I +accept it, but not his gift." + +"But, madame----" + +"No, but as a loan. He has advanced his money and his credit to please +me, and I will repay him. Boehmer has asked for money down?" + +"Yes, madame." + +"How much?" + +"100,000 francs." + +"That is my quarter's allowance from the king. I received it this +morning; it is in advance, but still I have it." She rang the bell. Her +woman came and wrapped her in warm sheets, and then she dressed herself. +Once more alone in her bedroom with Jeanne, she said: + +"Open that drawer, and you will see a portfolio." + +"Here it is, madame." + +"It holds the 100,000 francs--count them." + +Jeanne obeyed. + +"Take them to the cardinal with my thanks; each quarter I will pay the +same. In this manner I shall have the necklace which pleased me so much, +and if it embarrasses me to pay it, at least it will not hurt the king; +and I shall have gained the knowledge that I have a friend who has +guessed my wishes." Then, after a pause, "You will add, countess, that +M. de Rohan will be welcome at Versailles to receive my thanks." + +Jeanne went away full of joy and delight. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVIII. + +THE QUEEN'S PORTFOLIO. + + +The cardinal was at home when Madame de la Motte came to his hotel. She +had herself announced, and was immediately admitted. + +"You come from Versailles?" said he. + +"Yes." + +"Well?" + +"Well, monseigneur, what do you expect?" + +"Ah, countess, you say that with an air that frightens me." + +"You wished me to see the queen, and I have seen her; and that I should +speak to her of you whom she has always so much disliked." + +"And you did?" + +"Yes, and her majesty listened." + +"Say no more, countess, I see she will not overcome her repugnance." + +"Oh! as to that, I spoke of the necklace." + +"And did you dare to say that I wished----" + +"To buy it for her? Yes." + +"Oh, countess, you are sublime; and she listened?" + +"Yes, but she refused." + +"Oh, I am lost." + +"Refused to accept it as a gift, but not as a loan." + +"I lend to the queen! countess, it is impossible." + +"It is more than giving, is it not?" + +"A thousand times." + +"So I thought." + +The cardinal rose and came towards her. "Do not deceive me," he said. + +"One does not play with the affections of a man like you, monseigneur." + +"Then it is true?" + +"The exact truth." + +"I have a secret with the queen!" and he pressed Jeanne's hand. + +"I like that clasp of the hand," she said, "it is like one man to +another." + +"It is that of a happy man to a protecting angel." + +"Monseigneur, do not exaggerate." + +"Oh, my joy! my gratitude! impossible." + +"But lending a million and a half to the queen is not all you wish for? +Buckingham would have asked for more." + +"Buckingham believed what I dare not even dream of." + +"The queen sends you word that she will see you with pleasure at +Versailles." + +The cardinal looked as pale as a youth who gives his first kiss of love. + +"Ah," thought she, "it is still more serious than I imagined. I can get +what I please from him, for he acts really not from ambition but from +love." + +He quickly recovered himself, however: "My friend," said he, "how does +the queen mean to act about this loan she talks of?" + +"Ah, you think she has no money. But she will pay you as she would have +paid Boehmer. Only if she had paid him all Paris must have known it, +which she would not have liked, after the credit she has had for her +refusal of it. You are a cashier for her, and a solvent one if she +becomes embarrassed. She is happy and she pays. Ask no more." + +"She pays?" + +"Yes, she knows you have debts; and when I told her you had advanced +100,000 francs----" + +"You told her?" + +"Yes; why not?" Jeanne put her hand in her pocket, and drew out the +portfolio. "The queen sends you this with thanks; it is all right, for I +have counted it." + +"Who cares for that? But the portfolio?" + +"Well, it is not handsome." + +"It pleases me, nevertheless." + +"You have good taste." + +"Ah, you quiz me." + +"You have the same taste as the queen, at all events." + +"Then it was hers?" + +"Do you wish for it?" + +"I cannot deprive you of it." + +"Take it." + +"Oh, countess, you are a precious friend; but while you have worked for +me, I have not forgotten you." + +Jeanne looked surprised. + +"Yes," said he, "my banker came to propose to me some plan of a marsh to +drain, which must be profitable. I took two hundred shares, and fifty of +them are for you." + +"Oh, monseigneur!" + +"He soon returned, he had realized already on them cent. per cent. He +gave me 100,000 francs, and here is your share, dear countess;" and from +the pocket-book she had just given him he slid 25,000 francs into her +hand. + +"Thanks, monseigneur. What gratifies me most is, that you thought of +me." + +"I shall ever do so," said he, kissing her hand. + +"And I of you, at Versailles." + + + + +CHAPTER XLIX. + +IN WHICH WE FIND DR. LOUIS. + + +Perhaps our readers, remembering in what a position we left M. de +Charny, will not dislike to return with us to that little ante-chamber at +Versailles into which this brave seaman, who feared neither men nor +elements, had fled, lest he should show his weakness to the queen. Once +arrived there, he felt it impossible to go further; he stretched out his +arms, and was only saved from falling to the ground by the aid of those +around. He then fainted, and was totally ignorant that the queen had +seen him, and would have run to his assistance had Andree not prevented +her, more even from a feeling of jealousy than from regard for +appearances. Immediately after the king entered, and seeing a man lying +supported by two guards, who, unaccustomed to see men faint, scarcely +knew what to do, advanced, saying, "Some one is ill here." + +At his voice the men started and let their burden fall. + +"Oh!" cried the king, "it is M. de Charny. Place him on this couch, +gentlemen." Then they brought him restoratives, and sent for a doctor. + +The king waited to hear the result. The doctor's first care was to open +the waistcoat and shirt of the young man to give him air, and then he +saw the wound. + +"A wound!" cried the king. + +"Yes," said M. de Charny, faintly, "an old wound, which has reopened;" +and he pressed the hand of the doctor to make him understand. + +But this was not a court doctor, who understands everything; so, +willing to show his knowledge, "Old, sir! this wound is not twenty-four +hours old." + +Charny raised himself at this, and said, "Do you teach me, sir, when I +received my wound?" Then, turning round, he cried, "The king!" and +hastened to button his waistcoat. + +"Yes, M. de Charny, who fortunately arrived in time to procure you +assistance." + +"A mere scratch, sire," stammered Charny, "an old wound." + +"Old or new," replied Louis, "it has shown me the blood of a brave man." + +"Whom a couple of hours in bed will quite restore," continued Charny, +trying to rise; but his strength failed him, his head swam, and he sank +back again. + +"He is very ill," said the king. + +"Yes, sire," said the doctor, with importance, "but I can cure him." + +The king understood well that M. de Charny wished to hide some secret +from him, and determined to respect it. "I do not wish," said he, "that +M. de Charny should run the risk of being moved; we will take care of +him here. Let M. de Suffren be called, this gentleman recompensed, and +my own physician, Dr. Louis, be sent for." + +While one officer went to execute these orders, two others carried +Charny into a room at the end of the gallery. Dr. Louis and M. de +Suffren soon arrived. The latter understood nothing of his nephew's +illness. "It is strange," said he; "do you know, doctor, I never knew my +nephew ill before." + +"That proves nothing," replied the doctor. + +"The air of Versailles must be bad for him." + +"It is his wound," said one of the officers. + +"His wound!" cried M. de Suffren; "he never was wounded in his life." + +"Oh, excuse me," said the officer, opening the shirt, covered with +blood, "but I thought----" + +"Well," said the doctor, who began to see the state of the case, "do +not let us lose time disputing over the cause, but see what can be done +to cure him." + +"Is it dangerous, doctor?" asked M. de Suffren, with anxiety. + +"Not at all," replied he. + +M. de Suffren took his leave, and left Charny with the doctor. Fever +commenced, and before long he was delirious. Three hours after the +doctor called a servant, and told him to take Charny in his arms, who +uttered doleful cries. "Roll the sheet over his head," said the doctor. + +"But," said the man, "he struggles so much that I must ask assistance +from one of the guards." + +"Are you afraid of a sick man, sir? If he is too heavy for you, you are +not strong enough for me. I must send you back to Auvergne." This threat +had its effect. Charny, crying, fighting, and gesticulating, was carried +by the man through the guards. + +Some of the officers questioned the doctor. + +"Oh! gentlemen," said he, "this gallery is too far off for me; I must +have him in my own rooms." + +"But I assure you, doctor, we would all have looked after him here. We +all love M. de Suffren." + +"Oh yes, I know your sort of care! The sick man is thirsty, and you give +him something to drink, and kill him." + +"Now there remains but one danger," said the doctor to himself, as he +followed Charny, "that the king should want to visit him, and if he hear +him---- Diable! I must speak to the queen." The good doctor, therefore, +having bathed the head and face of his patient with cold water, and seen +him safe in bed, went out and locked the door on him, leaving his +servant to look after him. He went towards the queen's apartments, and +met Madame de Misery, who had just been despatched to ask after the +patient. + +"Come with me," he said. + +"But, doctor, the queen waits for intelligence." + +"I am going to her." + +"The queen wishes----" + +"The queen shall know all she wishes. I will take care of that." + + + + +CHAPTER L. + +AEGRI SOMNIA + + +The queen was expecting the return of Madame de Misery. The doctor +entered with his accustomed familiarity. "Madame," he said, "the patient +in whom your majesty and the king are interested is as well as any one +can be who has a fever." + +"Is it a slight wound?" asked the queen. + +"Slight or not, he is in a fever." + +"Poor fellow!--a bad fever?" + +"Terrible!" + +"You frighten me; dear doctor; you, who are generally so cheering. +Besides, you look about you, as though you had a secret to tell." + +"So I have." + +"About the fever?" + +"Yes." + +"To tell me?" + +"Yes." + +"Speak, then, for I am curious." + +"I wait for you to question me, madame." + +"Well, how does the fever go on?" + +"No; ask me why I have taken him away from the guard's gallery, where +the king left him, to my own room." + +"Well, I ask. Indeed it is strange." + +"Then, madame, I did so, because it is not an ordinary fever." + +The queen looked surprised. "What do you mean?" + +"M. de Charny is delirious already, and in his delirium he says a number +of things rather delicate for the gentlemen of the guard to hear." + +"Doctor!" + +"Oh, madame! you should not question me, if you do not wish to hear my +answers." + +"Well, then, dear doctor, is he an atheist? Does he blaspheme?" + +"Oh, no! he is on the contrary a devotee." + +The queen assumed a look of sang-froid. "M. de Charny," she said, +"interests me. He is the nephew of M. de Suffren, and has besides +rendered me personal services. I wish to be a friend to him. Tell me, +therefore, the exact truth." + +"But I cannot tell you, madame. If your majesty wishes to know, the only +way is to hear him yourself." + +"But if he says such strange things?" + +"Things which your majesty ought to hear." + +"But," said the queen, "I cannot move a step here, without some +charitable spy watching me." + +"I will answer for your security. Come through my private way, and I +will lock the door after us." + +"I trust to you, then, dear doctor." And she followed him, burning with +curiosity. + +When they reached the second door the doctor put his ear to the keyhole. + +"Is your patient in there, doctor?" + +"No, madame, or you would have heard him at the end of the corridor. +Even here you can hear his voice." + +"He groans." + +"No, he speaks loud and distinct." + +"But I cannot go in to him." + +"I do not mean you to do so. I only wish you to listen in the adjoining +room, where you will hear without being seen." They went on, and the +doctor entered the sick-room alone. + +Charny, still dressed in his uniform, was making fruitless efforts to +rise, and was repeating to himself his interview with the German lady in +the coach. "German!" he cried--"German! Queen of France!" + +"Do you hear, madame?" + +"It is frightful," continued Charny, "to love an angel, a woman--to love +her madly--to be willing to give your life for her; and when you come +near her, to find her only a queen--of velvet and of gold, of metal and +of silk, and no heart." + +"Oh! oh!" cried the doctor again. + +"I love a married woman!" Charny went on, "and with that wild love +which, makes me forget everything else. Well, I will say to her, there +remain for us still some happy days on this earth. Come, my beloved, and +we will live the life of the blessed, if we love each other. Afterwards +there will be death--better than a life like this. Let us love at +least." + +"Not badly reasoned for a man in a fever," said the doctor. + +"But her children!" cried Charny suddenly, with fury; "she will not +leave her children. Oh! we will carry them away also. Surely I can carry +her, she is so light, and her children too." Then he gave a terrible +cry: "But they are the children of a king!" + +The doctor left his patient and approached the queen. + +"You are right, doctor," said she; "this young man would incur a +terrible danger if he were overheard." + +"Listen again," said the doctor. + +"Oh, no more." + +But just then Charny said, in a gentler voice: + +"Marie, I feel that you love me, but I will say nothing about it. Marie, +I felt the touch of your foot in the coach; your hand touched mine, but +I will never tell; I will keep this secret with my life. My blood may +all flow away, Marie, but my secret shall not escape with it. My enemy +steeped his sword in my blood, but if he has guessed my secret, yours is +safe. Fear nothing, Marie, I do not even ask you if you love me; you +blushed, that is enough." + +"Oh!" thought the doctor; "this sounds less like delirium than like +memory." + +"I have heard enough," cried the queen, rising and trembling violently; +and she tried to go. + +The doctor stopped her. "Madame," said he, "what do you wish?" + +"Nothing, doctor, nothing." + +"But if the king ask to see my patient?" + +"Oh! that would be dreadful!" + +"What shall I say?" + +"Doctor, I cannot think; this dreadful spectacle has confused me." + +"I think you have caught his fever," said the doctor, feeling her pulse. + +She drew away her hand, and escaped. + + + + +CHAPTER LI. + +ANDREE. + + +The doctor remained thoughtful, then said to himself,--"There are other +difficulties here besides those I can contend with by science." He +bathed again the temples of his patient, who for the time began to grow +calmer. + +All at once the doctor heard the rustling of a dress outside. "Can it be +the queen returned?" thought he; and opening the door softly, he saw +before him the motionless figure of a woman, looking like a statue of +despair. It was almost dark; he advanced suddenly along the corridor to +the place where the figure was standing. On seeing him, she uttered a +cry. + +"Who is there?" asked Doctor Louis. + +"I, doctor!" replied a sweet and sorrowful voice--a voice that he knew +but could not immediately recognize. "I, Andree de Taverney," continued +she. + +"Oh, mon Dieu! what is the matter?" cried the doctor; "is she ill?" + +"She! who?" + +The doctor felt that he had committed an imprudence. + +"Excuse me, but I saw a lady going away just now, perhaps it was you." + +"Oh, yes, there has been a lady here before me, has there not?" asked +Andree, in a tone of emotion. + +"My dear child," replied the doctor, "of whom do you speak? what do you +want to know?" + +"Doctor," answered Andree, in a sorrowful voice, "you always speak the +truth, do not deceive me now; I am sure there was a woman here before +me." + +"Doubtless. Why should I deceive you? Madame de Misery was here." + +"It was Madame de Misery who came?" + +"Certainly; what makes you doubt? What inexplicable beings women are." + +"Dear doctor." + +"Well, but to the point. Is she worse?" + +"Who?" + +"Pardieu, the queen." + +"The queen!" + +"Yes, the queen, for whom Madame de Misery came to fetch me, and who was +troubled with her palpitations. If you come from her, tell me, and we +will go back together." + +"No, doctor, I do not come from the queen, and was even ignorant that +she was suffering. But pardon me, doctor, I scarcely know what I an +saying." In fact, she seemed on the point of fainting. + +The doctor supported her. She rallied by a strong effort. "Doctor," she +said, "you know I am nervous in the dark; I lost my way in these +intricate passages, and have grown frightened and foolish." + +"And why the devil should you be wandering about these dark passages, +since you came for nothing?" + +"I did not say I came for nothing, only that no one sent me." + +"Well, if you have anything to say to me, come away from here, for I am +tired of standing." + +"Oh, I shall not be ten minutes; can any one hear us?" + +"No one." + +"Not even your patient in there?" + +"Oh, no fear of his hearing anything." + +Andree clasped her hands. "Oh, mon Dieu!" she cried, "he is, then, very +ill?" + +"Indeed he is not well. But tell me quickly what brings you here, for I +cannot wait." + +"Well, doctor, we have spoken of it; I came to ask after him." + +Doctor Louis received this confession with a solemn silence, which +Andree took for a reproach. + +"You may excuse this step, doctor," she said, "as he was wounded in a +duel with my brother." + +"Your brother! I was ignorant of that." + +"But now that you know it, you understand why I inquire after him." + +"Oh, certainly, my child," said the good doctor, enchanted to find an +excuse for being indulgent; "I could not know this." + +"A duel between two gentlemen is a thing of everyday occurrence, +doctor." + +"Certainly; the only thing that could make it of importance would be +that they have fought about a lady!" + +"About a lady!" + +"About yourself, for example." + +Andree sighed. + +"Oh, doctor! they did not fight about me." + +"Then," said the doctor, "is it your brother that has sent you for news +of M. de Charny?" + +"Oh, yes, my brother, doctor." + +Dr. Louis looked at her scrutinizingly. + +"I will find out the truth," thought he. Then he said, "Well, I will +tell you the truth, that your brother may make his arrangements +accordingly; you understand." + +"No, doctor." + +"Why, a duel is never a very agreeable thing to the king, and if it +makes a scandal, he often banishes or imprisons the actors; but when +death ensues, he is always inflexible. Therefore counsel your brother to +hide for a time." + +"Then," cried Andree, "M. de Charny is--dangerously ill?" + +"My dear young lady, if he is not out of danger by this time to-morrow, +if before that time I cannot quell the fever that devours him, M. de +Charny is a dead man." + +Andree bit her lips till the blood came, and clenched her hands till +the nails stuck into the flesh, to stifle the cry that was ready to +burst from her. Having conquered herself, she said, "My brother will not +fly; he wounded M. de Charny in fair fight, and if he has killed him, he +will take his chance." + +The doctor was deceived. She did not come on her own account, he +thought. + +"How does the queen take it?" he asked. + +"The queen? I know not. What is it to her?" + +"But she likes your brother." + +"Well, he is safe; and perhaps she will defend him if he is accused." + +"Then, mademoiselle, you have learned what you wished. Let your brother +fly, or not, as he pleases; that is your affair. Mine is to do the best +to-night for the wounded man; without which, death will infallibly carry +him off. Adieu." + +Andree fled back to her room, locked herself in, and falling on her +knees by the side of her bed, "My God!" cried she, with a torrent of +burning tears, "you will not leave this young man to die who has done no +wrong, and who is so loved in this world. Oh! save him, that I may see a +God of mercy, and not of vengeance." Her strength gave way, and she fell +senseless on the floor. When her senses returned to her, her first +muttered words were, "I love him! oh, I love him!" + + + + +CHAPTER LII. + +DELIRIUM. + + +M. De Charny conquered the fever. The next day the report was favorable. +Once out of danger, Doctor Louis ceased to take so much interest in him; +and after the lapse of a week, as he had not forgotten all that had +passed in his delirium, he wished to have him removed from Versailles: +but Charny, at the first hint of this, rebelled, and said angrily, +"that his majesty had given him shelter there, and that no one had a +right to disturb him." + +The doctor, who was not patient with intractable convalescents, ordered +four men to come in and move him; but Charny caught hold of his bed with +one hand, and struck furiously with the other at every one who +approached; and with the effort, the wound reopened, the fever returned, +and he began to cry out that the doctor wished to deprive him of the +visions that he had in his sleep, but that it was all in vain; for that +she who sent them to him was of too high rank to mind the doctor. + +Then the doctor, frightened, sent the men away, and dressed the wound +again; but as the delirium returned stronger than ever, he determined to +go once more to the queen. + +Marie Antoinette received him with a smile; she expected to hear that +the patient was cured, but on hearing that he was very ill, she cried: + +"Why, yesterday you said he was going on so well!" + +"It was not true, madame." + +"And why did you deceive me? Is there, then, danger?" + +"Yes, madame, to himself and others; but the evil is moral, not +physical. The wound in itself is nothing; but, madame, M. de Charny is +fast becoming a monomaniac, and this I cannot cure. Madame, you will +have ruined this young man." + +"I, doctor! Am I the cause, if he is mad?" + +"If you are not now, you soon will be." + +"What must I do, then? Command me, doctor." + +"This young man must be cured either with kindness or coercion. The +woman whose name he evokes every instant must kill or cure him." + +"Doctor, you exaggerate. Can you kill a man with a hard word, or cure a +madman with a smile?" + +"If your majesty be incredulous, I have only to pay my respects, and +take leave." + +"No, doctor; tell me what you wish." + +"Madame, if you desire to free this palace from his cries, and from +scandal, you must act." + +"You wish me to come and see him?" + +"Yes." + +"Then I will call some one--Mademoiselle de Taverney, for example--and +you have all ready to receive us. But it is a dreadful responsibility to +run the risk of kill or cure, as you say." + +"It is what I have to do every day. Come, madame, all is ready." + +The queen sighed, and followed the doctor, without waiting for Andree, +who was not to be found. + +It was eleven o'clock in the morning, and Charny was asleep, after the +troubled night he had gone through. The queen, attired in an elegant +morning dress, entered the corridor. The doctor advised her to present +herself suddenly, determined to produce a crisis, either for good or +ill; but at the door they found a woman standing, who had not time to +assume her usual unmoved tranquillity, but showed an agitated +countenance, and trembled before them. + +"Andree!" cried the queen. + +"Yes, your majesty; you are here too!" + +"I sent for you, but they could not find you." + +Andree, anxious to hide her feelings, even at the price of a falsehood, +said, "I heard your majesty had asked for me, and came after you." + +"How did you know I was here?" + +"They said you were gone with Doctor Louis, so I guessed it." + +"Well guessed," replied the queen, who was little suspicious, and forgot +immediately her first surprise. + +She went on, leaving Andree with the doctor. + +Andree, seeing her disappear, gave a look full of anger and grief. The +doctor said to her: + +"Do you think she will succeed?" + +"Succeed in what?" + +"In getting this poor fellow removed, who will die here." + +"Will he live elsewhere?" asked Andree, surprised. + +"I believe so." + +"Oh, then, may she succeed!" + + + + +CHAPTER LIII. + +CONVALESCENCE. + + +The queen walked straight up to where Charny lay, dressed, on a couch. +He raised his head, wakened by her entrance. + +"The queen!" cried he, trying to rise. + +"Yes, sir, the queen," she replied, "who knows how you strive to lose +both reason and life; the queen, whom you offend both dreaming and +waking; the queen, who cares for your honor and your safety, and +therefore comes to you. Is it possible," continued she, "that a +gentleman, formerly renowned like you for his loyalty and honor, should +become such an enemy as you have been to the reputation of a woman? What +will my enemies do, if you set them the example of treason?" + +"Treason!" stammered Charny. + +"Yes, sir. Either you are a madman, and must be forcibly prevented from +doing harm; or you are a traitor, and must be punished." + +"Oh, madame, do not call me a traitor! From the mouth of a king, such an +accusation would precede death; from the mouth of a woman, it is +dishonor. Queen, kill me, or spare me!" + +"Are you in your right mind, M. de Charny?" said the queen, in a moved +voice. + +"Yes, madame." + +"Do you remember your wrongs towards me, and towards the king?" + +"Mon Dieu!" he murmured. + +"For you too easily forget, you gentlemen, that the king is the husband +of the woman whom you insult, by raising your eyes to her--that he is +the father of your future master, the dauphin; you forget, also, that +he is a greater and better man than any of you--a man whom I esteem and +love." + +"Oh!" murmured Charny, with a groan, and seemed ready to faint. + +This cry pierced the queen's heart; she thought he was about to die, and +was going to call for assistance; but, after an instant's reflection, +she went on: "Let us converse quietly, and be a man. Doctor Louis has +vainly tried to cure you; your wound, which was nothing, has been +rendered dangerous through your own extravagances. When will you cease +to present to the good doctor the spectacle of a scandalous folly which +disquiets him? When will you leave the castle?" + +"Madame," replied Charny, "your majesty sends me away; I go, I go!" And +he rose with a violent effort, as though he would have fled that +instant, but, unable to stand, fell almost into the arms of the queen, +who had risen to stop him. + +She replaced him on the sofa; a bloody foam rose to his lips. "Ah, so +much the better!" cried he; "I die, killed by you!" The queen forgot +everything but his danger; she supported his drooping head on her +shoulders, and pressed her cold hands to his forehead and heart. Her +touch seemed to revive him as if by magic--he lived again; then she +wished to fly, but he caught hold of her dress, saying: + +"Madame, in the name of the respect which I feel for you----" + +"Adieu, adieu!" cried the queen. + +"Oh, madame, pardon me!" + +"I do pardon you." + +"Madame, one last look." + +"M. de Charny," said the queen, trembling, "if you are not the basest of +men, to-morrow you will be dead, or have left this castle." + +He threw himself at her feet; she opened the door, and rushed away. + +Andree saw for an instant the young man on his knees before her, and +felt struck with both hate and despair. She thought, as she saw the +queen return, that God had given too much to this woman in adding to her +throne and her beauty this half-hour with M. de Charny. + +The doctor, occupied only with the success of the negotiation, said, +"Well, madame, what will he do?" + +"He will leave," replied the queen; and, passing them quickly, she +returned to her apartment. + +The doctor went to his patient, and Andree to her room. + +Doctor Louis found Charny a changed man, declaring himself perfectly +strong, asking the doctor how he should be moved, and when he should be +quite well, with so much energy that the doctor feared it was too much, +and that he must relapse after it. He was, however, so reasonable as to +feel the necessity of explaining this sudden change. "The queen has done +me more good by making me ashamed of myself," he said, "than you, dear +doctor, with all your science. She has vanquished me by an appeal to my +amour propre." + +"So much the better," said the doctor. + +"Yes. I remember that a Spaniard--they are all boasters--told me one +day, to prove the force of his will, that it sufficed for him in a duel +which he had fought, and in which he had been wounded, to will that the +blood should not flow in the presence of his adversary in order to +retain it. I laughed at him. However, I now feel something like it +myself; I think that if my fever and delirium wished to return, I could +chase them away, saying, Fever and delirium, I forbid you to appear!" + +"We know such things are possible," replied the doctor. "Allow me to +congratulate you, for you are cured morally." + +"Oh yes." + +"Well, the physical cure will soon follow. Once sound in mind, you will +be sound in body within a week." + +"Thanks, doctor." + +"And, to begin, you must leave this place." + +"I am ready immediately." + +"Oh, we will not be rash; we will wait till this evening. Where will you +go?" + +"Anywhere--to the end of the world if you like." + +"That is too far for a first journey; we will content ourselves with +Versailles. I have a house there where you shall go to-night." + +Accordingly, that evening the four valets, who had been so rudely +repulsed before, carried him to his carriage. The king had been hunting +all day; Charny felt somewhat uneasy at leaving without apprizing him; +but the doctor promised to make his excuses. + +Andree, concealed behind her curtains, saw the carriage drive off. + +"If he resumes his desire to die," thought the doctor, "at least it will +not be in my rooms, and under my care." + +Charny arrived safely, however, and the next day the doctor found him so +well, that he told him he thought he would require him no longer. + +He received a visit from his uncle, and from an officer sent by the king +to inquire after him. At the end of a week he could ride slowly on +horseback: then the doctor advised him to go for a time to his estates +in Picardy to regain strength. He accordingly took leave of the king, +charged M. de Suffren with his adieus to the queen, who was ill that +evening, and set off for his chateau at Boursonnes. + + + + +CHAPTER LIV. + +TWO BLEEDING HEARTS. + + +On the day following the queen's visit to M. de Charny, Madlle. de +Taverney entered the royal bedroom as usual at the hour of the petite +toilette. The queen was just laughing over a note from Madame de la +Motte. Andree, paler than usual, looked cold and grave: the queen, +however, being occupied, did not notice it, but merely turning her head, +said in her usual friendly tone, "Bon jour, petite." At last, however, +Andree's silence struck her, and looking up she saw her sad expression +and said, "Mon Dieu! Andree, what is the matter? Has any misfortune +happened to you?" + +"Yes, madame, a great one." + +"What is it?" + +"I am going to leave your majesty." + +"Leave me!" + +"Yes, madame." + +"Where are you going? and what is the cause of this sudden departure?" + +"Madame, I am not happy in my affections; in my family affections, I +mean," added Andree, blushing. + +"I do not understand you--you seemed happy yesterday." + +"No, madame," replied Andree, firmly. "Yesterday was one of the unhappy +days of my life." + +"Explain yourself." + +"It would but fatigue your majesty, and the details are not worthy of +your hearing. Suffice it to say, that I have no satisfaction in my +family--that I have no good to expect in this world. I come, therefore, +to beg your majesty's permission to retire into a convent." + +The queen rose, and although with some effort to her pride, took +Andree's hand, and said: "What is the meaning of this foolish +resolution? Have you not to-day, like yesterday, a father and a brother? +and were they different yesterday from to-day? Tell me your +difficulties. Am I no longer your protectress and mother?" + +Andree, trembling, and bowing low, said, "Madame, your kindness +penetrates my heart, but does not shake my resolution. I have resolved +to quit the court. I have need of solitude. Do not force me to give up +the vocation to which I feel called." + +"Since yesterday?" + +"I beg your majesty not to make me speak on this point." + +"Be free, then," said the queen, rather bitterly; "only I have always +shown you sufficient confidence for you to have placed some in me. But +it is useless to question one who will not speak. Keep your secrets, and +I trust you will be happier away than you have been here. Remember one +thing, however, that my friendship does not expire with people's +caprices, and that I shall ever look on you as a friend. Now, go, +Andree; you are at liberty. But where are you going to?" + +"To the convent of St. Denis, madame." + +"Well, mademoiselle, I consider you guilty towards me of ingratitude and +forgetfulness." + +Andree, however, left the room and the castle without giving any of +those explanations which the good heart of the queen expected, and +without in any way softening or humbling herself. When she arrived at +home, she found Philippe in the garden--the brother dreamed, while the +sister acted. At the sight of Andree, whose duties always kept her with +the queen at that hour, he advanced, surprised, and almost frightened, +which was increased when he perceived her gloomy look. + +He questioned her, and she told him that she was about to leave the +service of the queen, and go into a convent. + +He clasped his hands, and cried, "What! you also, sister?" + +"I also! what do you mean?" + +"'Tis a cursed contact for us, that of the Bourbons. You wish to take +religious vows; you, at once the least worldly of women, and the least +fitted for a life of asceticism. What have you to reproach the queen +with?" + +"I have nothing to reproach her with; but you, Philippe, who expected, +and had the right to expect, so much--why did not you remain at court? +You did not remain there three days; I have been there as many years." + +"She is capricious, Andree." + +"You, as a man, might put up with it. I, a woman, could not, and do not +wish to do so." + +"All this, my sister, does not inform me what quarrel you have had with +her." + +"None, Philippe, I assure you. Had you any when you left her? Oh, she is +ungrateful!" + +"We must pardon her, Andree; she is a little spoiled by flattery, but +she has a good heart." + +"Witness what she has done for you, Philippe." + +"What has she done?" + +"You have already forgotten. I have a better memory, and with one stroke +pay off your debts and my own." + +"Very dear, it seems to me, Andree--to renounce the world at your age, +and with your beauty. Take care, dear sister, if you renounce it young, +you will regret it old, and will return to it when the time will be +passed, and you have outlived all your friends." + +"You do not reason thus for yourself, brother. You are so little careful +of your fortunes, that when a hundred others would have acquired titles +and gold, you have only said--she is capricious, she is perfidious, and +a coquette, and I prefer not to serve her. Therefore, you have renounced +the world, though you have not entered into a monastery." + +"You are right, sister; and were it not for our father----" + +"Our father! Ah, Philippe! do not speak of him," replied Andree, +bitterly. "A father should be a support to his children, or accept their +support. But what does ours do? Could you confide a secret to M. de +Taverney, or do you believe him capable of confiding in you? M. de +Taverney is made to live alone in this world." + +"True, Andree, but not to die alone." + +"Ah, Philippe! you take me for a daughter without feeling, but you know +I am a fond sister; and to have been a good daughter, required only to +have had a father; but everything seems to conspire to destroy in me +every tender feeling. It never happens in this world that hearts +respond; those whom we choose prefer others." + +Philippe looked at her with astonishment. "What do you mean?" said he. + +"Nothing," replied Andree, shrinking from a confidence. "I think my +brain is wandering; do not attend to my words." + +"But----" + +Andree took his hand. "Enough on this subject, my dearest brother. I am +come to beg you to conduct me to the convent of St. Denis; but be easy, +I will take no vows. I can do that at a later period, if I wish. Instead +of going, like most women, to seek forgetfulness, I will go to seek +memory. It seems to me that I have too often forgotten my Creator. He is +the only consolation, as He is really the only afflictor. In approaching +Him more nearly, I shall do more for my happiness than if all the rich +and great in this world had combined to make life pleasant to me." + +"Still, Andree, I oppose this desperate resolution, for you have not +confided to me the cause of your despair!" + +"Despair!" said she, with a disdainful air. "No, thank God, I am not +despairing; no, a thousand times, no." + +"This excess of disdain shows a state of mind which cannot last. If you +reject the word 'despair,' I must use that of 'pique.'" + +"Pique! do you believe that I am so weak as to yield up my place in the +world through pique? Judge me by yourself, Philippe; if you were to +retire to La Trappe, what would you call the cause of your +determination?" + +"I should call it an incurable grief." + +"Well, Philippe, I adopt your words, for they suit me." + +"Then," he replied, "brother and sister are alike in their lives: happy +together, they have become unhappy at the same time." Then, thinking +further remonstrance useless, he asked, "When do you want to go?" + +"To-morrow, even to-day, if it were possible." + +"I shall be ready whenever you require me." + +Andree retired to make her preparations. Soon she received this note +from Philippe: + + "You can see our father at five o'clock this evening. You must be + prepared for reproaches, but an adieu is indispensable." + +She answered: + + "At five o'clock I will be with M. de Taverney all ready to start, + and by seven we can be at St. Denis, if you will give me up your + evening." + + + + +CHAPTER LV. + +THE MINISTER OF FINANCE. + + +We have seen that the queen, before receiving Andree, was smiling over a +note from Madame de la Motte. She was, however, rendered serious by the +interview with Mademoiselle de Taverney. Scarcely had she gone, when +Madame de Misery came to announce M. de Calonne. He was a man of much +intellect, but, foreseeing that disaster was hanging over France, +determined to think only of the present, and enjoy it to the utmost. He +was a courtier, and a popular man. M. de Necker had shown the +impossibility of finding finances, and called for reforms which would +have struck at the estates of the nobility and the revenues of the +clergy; he exposed his designs too openly, and was overwhelmed by a +torrent of opposition; to show the enemy your plan of attack is half to +give them the victory. Calonne, equally alive to the danger, but seeing +no way of escape, gave way to it. He completely carried with him the +king and queen, who implicitly believed in his system, and this is, +perhaps, the only political fault which Louis XVI was guilty of towards +posterity. M. de Calonne was handsome, and had an ingratiating manner; +he knew how to please a queen, and always arrived with a smile on his +face, when others might have worn a frown. + +The queen received him graciously, and said, "Have we any money, M. de +Calonne?" + +"Certainly, madame; we have always money." + +"You are perfectly marvelous," replied she, "an incomparable financier, +for you seem always ready when we want money." + +"How much does your majesty require?" + +"Explain to me first how you manage to find money, when M. Necker +declared that there was none." + +"M. Necker was right, madame; for when I became minister on the 3d of +November, 1783, there were but one thousand and two hundred francs in +the public treasury. Had M. Necker, madame, instead of crying out, +'There is no money,' done as I have done, and borrowed 100,000,000 the +first year, and 125,000,000 the second, and had he been as sure as I am +of a new loan of 80,000,000 for the third, he would have been a true +financier. Every one can say there is no money, but not that there is +plenty." + +"That is what I compliment you on, sir; but how to pay all this?" + +"Oh, madame, be sure we shall pay it," replied he, with a strange smile. + +"Well, I trust to you," said the queen. + +"I have now a project, madame," replied he, bowing, "which will put +20,000,000 into the pockets of the nation, and 7,000,000 or 8,000,000 +into your own." + +"They will be welcome, but where are they to come from?" + +"Your majesty is aware that money is not of the same value in all the +countries of Europe." + +"Certainly. In Spain gold is dearer than in France." + +"Your majesty is perfectly right. Gold in Spain has been for the last +five or six years worth considerably more than in France; it results +that the exporters gain on eight ounces of gold, that they send from +here, about the value of fourteen ounces of silver." + +"That is a great deal." + +"Well, madame, I mean to raise the price of gold one-fifth of this +difference, and where we have now thirty louis we shall then have +thirty-two." + +"It is a brilliant idea!" cried the queen. + +"I believe it, and am happy that it meets your majesty's approbation." + +"Always have such, and I am sure you will soon pay our debts." + +"But allow me, madame, to return to what you want of me," said the +minister. + +"Would it be possible to have at present--I am afraid it is too +much----" + +Calonne smiled in an encouraging manner. + +"500,000 francs?" continued the queen. + +"Oh, madame, really your majesty frightened me; I was afraid it was +something great." + +"Then you can?" + +"Assuredly." + +"Without the king's knowledge?" + +"Oh, madame, that is impossible. Every month all my accounts are laid +before the king; however, he does not always read them." + +"When can I have it?" + +"What day does your majesty wish for it?" + +"On the fifth of next month." + +"Your majesty shall have it on the third." + +"Thanks, M. de Calonne." + +"My greatest happiness is to please your majesty, and I beg you never +will allow yourself to be embarrassed for want of money." He rose, the +queen gave him her hand to kiss, and then said, "After all, this money +causes me some remorse, for it is for a caprice." + +"Never mind; some one will gain by it." + +"That is true; you have a charming mode of consoling one." + +"Oh, madame, if we had none of us more reasons for remorse than you, we +should all go straight to heaven." + +"But it will be cruel to make the poor people pay for my caprices." + +"Have no scruples, madame; it is not the poor who will pay." + +"How so?" asked the queen, in some surprise. + +"Because, madame, they have nothing to pay with." + +He bowed and retired. + + + + +CHAPTER LVI. + +THE CARDINAL DE ROHAN. + + +Hardly had M. de Calonne traversed the gallery, when Madame de la Motte +was shown in to the queen. + +"Madame," said she, "the cardinal is here." She then introduced him, and +took her leave. + +The cardinal, finding himself alone with the queen, bowed respectfully, +without raising his eyes. + +"Monsieur," said the queen, "I have heard of you what has effaced many +wrongs." + +"Permit me, madame," said he, trembling with real emotion, "to assure +your majesty that these wrongs of which you speak I could explain in a +few words." + +"I do not forbid you to justify yourself," replied she, with dignity; +"but if what you are about to say throws the smallest shade upon my +family or country, you will only wound me still more. Let us leave this +subject; and I will only see you under the fresh light, which shows you +to me obliging, respectful, and devoted." + +"Devoted until death," replied he. + +"But," said Marie Antoinette, with a smile, "at present it is a question +not of death, but of ruin; and I do not wish you devoted even so far. +You shall live, and not be ruined, at least, not by me; for they say you +are ruining yourself." + +"Madame!" + +"Oh! that is your own business; only, as a friend, I would counsel you +to be economical--the king would like you better." + +"I would become a miser to please your majesty." + +"Oh, the king," replied she, with an accent on the word, "does not love +misers either." + +"I will become whatever your majesty desires," replied he, with a +hardly-disguised passion. + +"I said, then," continued she, "that you shall not be ruined for me. +You have advanced money on my account, and I have the means of meeting +the calls; therefore, regard the affair for the future as in my hands." + +"To finish it, then, it only remains for me to offer the necklace to +your majesty;" and drawing out the case, he presented it to her. + +She took it, but did not open it, and laid it down by her side. She +received kindly all his polite speeches, but as she was longing to be +left alone with her diamonds, she began to answer somewhat absently. + +He thought she was embarrassed, and was delighted, thinking it showed, +at least, an absence of indifference. He then kissed her hand, and took +leave, going away full of enthusiasm and hope. + +Jeanne was waiting for him in the carriage, and received his ardent +protestations with pleasure. "Well," said she, "shall you be Richelieu +or Mazarin? Have her lips given you encouragement in ambition or love? +Are you launched in politics or intrigue?" + +"Do not laugh, dear countess; I am full of happiness." + +"Already!" + +"Assist me, and in three weeks I may be a minister." + +"Peste! that is a long time; the next payment is in a fortnight." + +"Ah! the queen has money, and will pay, and I shall have only the merit +of the intention. It is too little; I would willingly have paid for this +reconciliation with the whole sum." + +"Make yourself easy," replied the countess; "you shall have this merit +if you desire it." + +"I should have preferred it; the queen would then have been under an +obligation to me." + +"Monseigneur, something tells me you will have this satisfaction. Are +you prepared for it?" + +"I have mortgaged all my revenue for the ensuing year." + +"Then you have the money?" + +"Certainly, for this payment; after that, I do not know what I shall +do." + +"Oh, this payment will give you three quiet months; who knows what may +happen in three months?" + +"That is true; but she said that the king wished me to incur no more +debt." + +"Two months in the ministry would set all straight." + +"Countess!" + +"Oh, do not be fastidious; if you do not assist yourself, others will." + +"You are right. Where are you going now?" + +"Back to the queen, to hear what she says of your interview." + +"Good! I go to Paris." + +"Why? You should go this evening to the 'jeu du roi;' it is good policy +to keep your ground." + +"No, countess; I must attend a rendezvous, for which I received a note +this morning." + +"A rendezvous?" + +"Yes, and a serious one, by the contents of the note. Look." + +"A man's writing," said the countess; and, opening the note, she read: + + "MONSEIGNEUR,--Some one wishes to see you about raising an + important sum of money. This person will wait on you this evening, + at Paris, to solicit the honor of an interview." + +"Anonymous--some beggar?" + +"No, countess; no beggar would expose himself to the risk of being +beaten by my servants. Besides, I fancy I have seen the writing before. +So au revoir, countess." + +"Apropos, monseigneur, if you are going to get a windfall, some large +sum, I understand we are to share." + +"Countess, you have brought me luck; I shall not be ungrateful." And +they separated. + +The cardinal was full of happy dreams: the queen had received him +kindly. He would place himself at the head of her party, and make it a +popular one; he would protect her, and for her sake would abandon his +slothful life, and live an active one. + +As soon as he arrived at his hotel, he commenced burning a box full of +love-letters; then he called his steward to order some economical +reforms, and sat down to his history of English politics. Soon he heard +a ring, and a servant entered to announce the person who had written to +him that morning. + +"Ask his name," said the cardinal. + +The man, having inquired, returned and said: + +"M. le Comte de Cagliostro." + +"Let him come in." + +The count entered. + +"Mon Dieu!" cried the cardinal, "is it possible? Joseph Balsamo, who was +supposed to have perished in the flames?" + +"Yes, monseigneur, more alive than ever." + +"But, sir, you have taken a new name." + +"Yes, monseigneur; the other recalled too many painful recollections. +Possibly, you yourself would not have opened your door to Joseph +Balsamo." + +"I! oh yes, sir." + +"Then monseigneur has a better memory and more honesty than most men." + +"Monsieur, you once rendered me a service." + +"Am I not, monseigneur, a good specimen of the results of my elixir?" + +"I confess it, sir; but you seem above humanity--you, who distribute +health and gold to all." + +"Health perhaps, monseigneur, but not gold." + +"You make no more gold." + +"No, monseigneur." + +"Why?" + +"Because I lost the parcel of an indispensable ingredient which Althotas +discovered, but of which I never had the receipt. He has carried that +secret with him to the grave." + +"He is dead, then? How, could you not preserve the life of this man, so +useful to you, as you have kept yourself through so many centuries?" + +"Because I can guard against illness, but not against such accidents as +kill before I can act." + +"He died from an accident, then?" + +"The fire in which you thought I died killed him; or rather he, weary of +life, chose to die." + +"It is strange." + +"No, it is natural; I have a hundred times thought of ending my life." + +"But you have not done so." + +"Because I enjoy a state of youth, in which health and pleasure kept me +from ennui; but he had chosen one of old age. He was a savant, and cared +only for science; and thus youth, with its thousand pleasures, would +have constantly drawn him from its study. An old man meditates better +than a young one. Althotas died a victim to his love of science: I lead +a worldly life, and do nothing--I live like a planet." + +"Oh, sir, your words and appearance bring to me dreams of my youth. It +is ten years since I saw you." + +"Yes; but if you are no longer a fine young man, you are a prince. Do +you remember the day when, in my cabinet, I promised you the love of the +woman whose fair locks I consulted?" + +The cardinal turned from pale to red. Terror and joy almost stopped the +beating of his heart. + +"I remember," said he. + +"Ah, let me try if I can still play the magician. This fair child of +your dreams----" + +"What is she doing now?" + +"Ah, I suspect you yourself have seen her to-day; indeed, you have not +long left her." + +The cardinal could hardly stand. + +"Oh, I beg, sir----" he cried. + +"Let us speak of something else," said Cagliostro, sitting down. + + + + +CHAPTER LVII. + +DEBTOR AND CREDITOR. + + +"Now that we have renewed our acquaintance, let us converse," said +Cagliostro. + +"Yes," replied the cardinal, "about the money you wrote of; it was a +pretext, was it not?" + +"No, monsieur, a serious matter, as it concerns a sum of 500,000 +francs." + +"The sum which you lent me?" cried the cardinal, growing pale. + +"Yes, monseigneur; I love to see so good a memory in a great prince like +you." + +The cardinal felt overwhelmed by the blow. At last, trying to smile, he +said: + +"I thought that Joseph Balsamo had carried his debt with him to the +tomb, as he threw the receipt into the fire." + +"Monseigneur," replied the count, "the life of Joseph Balsamo is as +indestructible as the sheet on which you wrote. Death cannot conquer the +elixir of life; fire is powerless against asbestos." + +"I do not understand," said the cardinal. + +"You soon will," replied Cagliostro, producing a folded paper, which he +offered to the prince. + +He, before opening it, cried, "My receipt!" + +"Yes, monseigneur, your receipt." + +"But I saw you burn it." + +"True, I threw it on the fire, but by accident you had written on a +piece of asbestos, so that the receipt remained uninjured among the +cinders." + +"Monsieur," said the cardinal, haughtily, for he thought this a proof +that he had been suspected, "believe me, I should not have denied my +debt, even without this paper; therefore you were wrong to deceive me." + +"I deceived you?" + +"Yes; you made me think the paper was destroyed." + +"To leave you the calm enjoyment of 500,000 francs." + +"But, sir, why have you left such a sum for ten years unclaimed?" + +"I knew, monseigneur, that it was safe. Various events have deprived me +of my wealth; but, knowing that I had this sum in reserve, I have waited +patiently until the last moment." + +"And has that arrived?" + +"Alas! yes, monseigneur." + +"So that you can really wait no longer?" + +"No, monseigneur." + +"You want it at once?" + +"If it please you to pay it." + +The cardinal was at first silent, through despair. Then he said, in a +hoarse voice: + +"M. le Comte, we unhappy princes of the earth do not improvise fortunes +as quickly as you enchanters." + +"Oh, monseigneur," said Cagliostro, "I would not have asked you for this +sum, had I not known beforehand that you had it." + +"I have 500,000 francs?" + +"30,000 in gold, 11,000 in silver, and the rest in notes, which are in +this buhl cabinet." + +The cardinal turned white. "You knew this?" + +"Yes, monseigneur, and I know you have made great sacrifices to obtain +it. I have heard that you will pay heavily for it." + +"Oh, it is too true!" + +"But, monseigneur, during these ten years I have often been in want and +embarrassment, yet I have kept this paper back, so as not to trouble +you; therefore I do not think you can complain." + +"Complain! oh, no, sir; when you graciously lent me such a sum, I must +ever remain your debtor. But during those ten years there were twenty +occasions when I could have repaid you with ease, while to-day the +restitution you demand embarrasses me dreadfully. You, who know +everything, who read even hearts, and penetrate the doors of cabinets, +doubtless, know also the purpose for which this money was destined." + +"You are wrong, monseigneur," said Cagliostro, coldly. "My knowledge has +brought me so much misery and disappointment, that I no longer seek to +penetrate the secrets of others. It concerned me to know whether you had +this money, as I wished to claim it; but once having ascertained that, I +did not trouble myself to think for what purpose it was destined. +Besides, did I know it, it might seem so grave a matter as almost to +force me to waive my claim, which really at present I cannot afford to +do. Therefore, I prefer to be ignorant." + +"Oh, monsieur," cried the cardinal, "do not think I wish to parade my +embarrassments in order to elude my debt! You have your own interests to +look to; they are guaranteed by this paper, which bears my +signature--that is enough. You shall have your money, although I do not +think there was any promise to pay." + +"Your eminence is mistaken;" and opening the paper he read these words: + + "I acknowledge the receipt of 500,000 francs from M. Joseph + Balsamo, which I will repay on demand. + + "LOUIS DE ROHAN." + +"You see, monseigneur, that I only ask my right; besides, as this was a +spontaneous loan by me to a man I hardly knew, the payment might have +been equally spontaneous, without waiting for me to claim it. But you +did not think so. Well, monseigneur, I withdraw this paper, and bid you +adieu." + +"No, count," replied the cardinal; "a Rohan must not receive lessons in +generosity; besides, this is a mere question of honesty. Give me the +paper, sir, and I will discharge my debt." + +For a moment Cagliostro hesitated, for the pale face and distressed air +of the cardinal inclined him to pity; but quickly hardening himself he +handed him the paper. M. de Rohan went to the cabinet, and took out the +money. "There," said he, "are your 500,000 francs; and I owe you 250,000 +more for interest, which you shall have if you will give me time." + +"Monseigneur," said Cagliostro, "I lent 500,000 francs to M. de Rohan, +which he has paid me; he therefore owes me nothing more. I will take the +notes with me, and send for the money. I thank you for your compliance +with my request." Then, bowing, he left the room. + +"Well," sighed M. de Rohan, "it is likely, at least, that the queen has +the money, and no Joseph Balsamo will come and take it from her." + + + + +CHAPTER LVIII. + +FAMILY ACCOUNTS. + + +It was the day before the first payment was due, and M. de Calonne had +so much to do, that he had forgotten his promise. The queen had up to +this time waited patiently, relying on his word; she now, however, was +beginning to grow uneasy, when she received the following note: + + "This evening the business with which your majesty has charged me + will be settled by the Council; the money will be with the queen + to-morrow evening." + +Marie Antoinette recovered all her gaiety directly. + +After dinner the king went to the Council, but in a rather bad humor. +The news from Russia was bad; a vessel had been lost; some of the +provinces refused to pay the taxes; also a beautiful map of the world, +made by himself, had that day split into two pieces. Vainly, therefore, +M. de Calonne produced his accounts, with his usual smiling air; the +king continued out of temper. For a long time he sat, as usual, drawing +hieroglyphics on a piece of paper, whilst the foreign correspondence +was being read, and paying little attention to what passed around him. + +At last, however, M. de Calonne began to speak of the loan to be raised +for the ensuing year. The king became attentive, and said, "Always +borrowing; but how is it to be repaid? That is a problem, M. de Calonne, +for you to solve." + +"Sire, a loan is only turning a stream from one direction, to cause it +to flow more abundantly in another. In deepening the channel, you only +increase the supply; therefore, let us not think of paying, but only of +obtaining present supplies." M. de Calonne then explained his plans, +which were approved by his colleagues. + +The king agreed, with a sigh. + +"Now we have money," said M. de Calonne, "let us dispose of it;" and he +handed a paper to the king, with a list of pensions, gifts, and payments +to be made. + +The king glanced at the total,--"1,900,000 francs for this--enormous!" + +"But, sire, one item is 500,000 francs." + +"Which?" + +"The advance to the queen." + +"To the queen! 500,000 francs to the queen!--impossible!" + +"Pardon, sire, it is correct." + +"But there must be a mistake; a fortnight ago her majesty received her +money." + +"Sire, but if her majesty has need of money; and we all know how well +she employs it." + +"No," cried the king; "the queen does not want this money; she said to +me that she preferred a vessel to jewels. The queen thinks but of +France, and when France is poor, we that are rich ought to lend to +France; and if she does require this money, it will be a greater merit +to wait for it; and I guarantee that she will wait." + +The ministers applauded this patriotic speech of the king,--only M. de +Calonne insisted. + +"Really, monsieur," said the king, "you are more interested for us than +we are for ourselves." + +"The queen, sire, will accuse us of having been backward when her +interests were concerned." + +"I will plead your cause." + +"But, sire, the queen never asks without necessity." + +"If the queen has wants, they are, I trust, less imperious than those of +the poor, and she will be the first to acknowledge it." + +"Sire!" + +"I am resolved," said the king; "and I fancy I hear the queen in her +generosity thanking me for having so well understood her heart." + +M. de Calonne bit his lips, and Louis, content with this personal +sacrifice, signed all the rest without looking at them. + +"Calonne, you shall tell the queen yourself." + +"Oh! sire, I beg to resign to you the honor." + +"So be it then. Ah! here she comes, let us meet her." + +"I beg your majesty to excuse me," he replied, and retired quickly. + +The king approached the queen--she was leaning on the arm of the Comte +d'Artois, and seemed very gay. + +"Madame," said the king, "have you had a pleasant walk?" + +"Yes, sire. And you an agreeable council?" + +"Yes, madame, I have gained you 500,000 francs." + +"M. de Calonne has kept his word," thought the queen. + +"Only imagine, madame," continued the king; "M. de Calonne had put down +500,000 francs for you, and I have struck it out,--a clear gain, +therefore, of that sum." + +"Struck it through!" cried the queen, turning pale; "but, sire----" + +"Oh! I am so hungry, I am going to supper;" and he went away delighted +with his work. + +"Brother," said the queen, "seek M. de Calonne for me." + +At that moment a note from him was handed to her: "Your majesty will +have learned that the king refused your grant. It was incomprehensible, +and I retired from the council penetrated with grief." + +"Read," said she, passing the note to the count. + +"And there are people," said he, "who say that we squander the revenue! +This is an extraordinary proceeding----" + +"Quite husbandlike," said the queen. "Adieu, brother." + +"I condole with you," he replied; "and it is a lesson for me. I was +going to make a request to-morrow for myself." + +"Send for Madame de la Motte," said the queen, when she returned to her +room. + + + + +CHAPTER LIX. + +MARIE ANTOINETTE AS QUEEN, AND MADAME DE LA MOTTE AS WOMAN. + + +The courier despatched for Madame de la Motte, not finding her at home, +went to the hotel of the Cardinal de Rohan to inquire if she were there. + +The well-tutored Swiss replied that she was not, but that he could get +any message transmitted to her. + +The courier, therefore, left word for her to come to the queen as soon +as possible. The man had hardly left the door before the message was +delivered to Jeanne as she sat at supper with the cardinal. She set off +immediately, and was at once introduced into the queen's chamber. + +"Oh!" cried the queen on seeing her, "I have something to tell you. The +king has refused me 500,000 francs." + +"Mon Dieu!" murmured the countess. + +"Incredible, is it not? He struck through the item; but it is useless to +talk of it; you must return to Paris, and tell the cardinal that since +he is so kind I accept the 500,000 francs he offered me. It is selfish, +I know, but what can I do?" + +"Oh! madame!" cried Jeanne, "we are lost--the cardinal no longer has the +money." + +The queen started. + +"No money!" stammered she. + +"No, madame; an unexpected creditor claimed this money from him. It was +a debt of honor, and he paid it." + +"The whole 500,000 francs? + +"Yes, madame." + +"And he has no more?" + +"No, madame, he told me this an hour and a half ago, and confessed to me +that he had no other resources." + +The queen leaned her head on her hands; then, after a few moments' +reflection, she said: + +"This, countess, is a terrible lesson for me, and a punishment for +having done anything, great or small, without the king's knowledge. It +was a folly; I had no need of this necklace." + +"True, madame; but if the queen consulted only her absolute wants----" + +"I must consult before everything the tranquillity and happiness of my +household. I renounce forever what has begun with so much annoyance. I +will sacrifice my vanity on the altar of duty, as M. de Provence would +say; and beautiful as this necklace is, you shall carry it back to MM. +Boehmer and Bossange." + +"Carry it back?" + +"Yes." + +"But, madame, your majesty has already given 100,000 francs for it." + +"Well, I shall gain all the rest that was to have been paid for it." + +"But, madame, they will not like to return your money." + +"I give it up on condition of their breaking the contract. Now, +countess, that I have come to this determination, I feel at ease once +more. This necklace brought with it cares and fears; diamonds cannot +compensate for these. Take it away, countess; the jewelers must be +satisfied; they will have their necklace, and 100,000 francs into the +bargain." + +"But M. de Rohan?" + +"He only acted to give me pleasure, and when he is told it is my +pleasure, not to have the necklace, he will understand me, I am sure; +and if he is a good friend, he will approve and strengthen me in my +sacrifice." Saying these words, the queen held out the casket to Jeanne. + +She did not take it. "Why not ask for time, madame?" + +"No, countess, it is humiliation. One may humiliate one's self for a +person one loves, to save a living creature, were it only a dog; but +only to keep some sparkling stones--never, countess; take it away." + +"But, madame, it will surely become known that your majesty has had the +jewels, and was obliged to return them." + +"No one will know anything about it. The jewelers will surely hold their +tongues for 100,000 francs. Take it away, countess, and thank M. de +Rohan for his good-will towards me. There is no time to lose; go as soon +as possible, and bring me back a receipt for them." + +"Madame, it shall be done as you wish." + +She first drove home, and changed her dress, which was too elegant for a +visit to the jewelers. Meanwhile she reflected much; she thought still +it was a fault for M. de Rohan to allow the queen to part with these +jewels; and should she obey her orders without consulting him, would he +not have reason to complain? Would he not rather sell himself than let +the queen return them? "I must consult him," she thought; "but, after +all, he never can get the money." She then took the necklace from the +case, once more to look at and admire it. "1,600,000 francs in my +possession; true, it is but for an hour. To carry away such a sum in +gold I should want two horses, yet how easily I hold it here! But I must +decide. Shall I go to the cardinal, or take it direct to the jewelers, +as the queen ordered? And the receipt--in what form shall I get it, so +as not to compromise the queen, the cardinal, or myself? Shall I +consult---- Ah! if he loved me more, and could give me the diamonds." + +She sat down again and remained nearly an hour in deep thought. Then +she rose, with a strange look in her eyes, and rang the bell with a +determined air. + +She ordered a coach, and in a few minutes she reached the house of the +journalist, M. Reteau de Villette. + + + + +CHAPTER LX. + +THE RECEIPT OF MM. BOEHMER AND BOSSANGE, AND THE GRATITUDE OF THE +QUEEN. + + +The result of Madame de la Motte's visit to M. Reteau de Villette +appeared the next day. At seven o'clock in the morning she sent to the +queen the following paper: + + "We, the undersigned, acknowledge having received back again the + diamond necklace sold to the queen for 1,600,000 francs, the + diamonds not suiting her majesty, who has paid us for our loss and + trouble 100,000 francs. + + "BOEHMER AND BOSSANGE." + +The queen, now tranquil about the whole affair, locked up the receipt, +and thought no more of it. + +But, in strange contradiction to this receipt, the jewelers received a +visit two days after from M. de Rohan, who felt uneasy about the +payment. + +If the instalment had not been paid, he expected to find them naturally +annoyed; but to his great satisfaction they received him with smiles. + +"The queen has paid, then?" he asked. + +"No, monseigneur, the queen could not procure the money, as the king had +refused it to her; but she has guaranteed the debt, and that fully +satisfies us." + +"Ah! so much the better; but how? Through the countess?" + +"No, monseigneur. On hearing of the king's refusal, which soon became +public, we wrote to Madame de la Motte----" + +"When?" + +"Yesterday." + +"And she replied?" + +"By one word, 'Wait.' That evening we received from the queen, by a +courier, a letter." + +"A letter to you?" + +"Or rather a guarantee, in due form." + +"Let me see it." + +"Oh! we would with pleasure, but her majesty enjoins that it is not to +be shown to any one." + +"Then you are safe?" + +"Perfectly, monseigneur." + +"The queen acknowledges the debt?" + +"Fully." + +"And engages to pay?" + +"500,000 francs in three months, the rest in six;" and she adds, "let +the affair rest between ourselves. You will have no cause to repent it." + +"I am charmed that it is settled," said the cardinal. + +We must now raise the veil, though, doubtless, our readers comprehend +how Jeanne de la Motte had acted towards her benefactress, and how she +had managed to satisfy both the queen and the jewelers by borrowing the +pen of M. Reteau. + +Three months were thus obtained for the completion of her design of +crime and deception, and within three months everything would be +arranged. + +She went to M. de Rohan, and repeated to him what the jewelers had +already told him. + +He asked if the queen remembered his good intentions. She drew a picture +of her gratitude, which enchanted him. + +Her intention had been to sell some of the diamonds to the value of +100,000 crowns, and then pass over to England, where, when necessary, +she could dispose of the remainder. But her first essay frightened her; +some offered despicably small sums for the stones, others went into +raptures, declaring they had never seen such diamonds but in the +necklace of MM. Boehmer and Bossange. + +She abandoned this course, therefore, which she saw might soon bring +about her ruin. She shut up the diamonds carefully, and resolved to +wait. But her position was critical. A few words of explanation between +the queen and the cardinal, and all would be discovered. She consoled +herself by thinking that the cardinal was too much in love not to fall +into all the snares she might lay for him. + +One thought alone occupied her--how to prevent their meeting. That he +would not be long satisfied without an interview she knew--what should +she do? Persuade him to ask for one, and offend the queen by his +presumption?--but then the queen would speak her anger out, and all +would come to light. She must compromise her, and endeavor so to close +her lips. But if they met by chance, what remained for her but flight? +That was easy; a few hours would suffice. Then, again, she thought of +the name she would leave behind her, and bear with her; no longer a +woman of rank, but a thief, whom justice only does not reach, because +she is too far off. No, she would not fly, if she could help it. She +would try what audacity and skill could do, remain here and act between +them. "To prevent them from meeting--that is the difficulty, as he is in +love, and a prince, who has a right to see the queen; and she is now +grateful and will no longer fly from him; but if I excite him to too +open an admiration and disgust her, I alienate them more than ever. She +will take fire easily, but what I want is something to make the queen +tremble as well as him; something which would give me power to say, 'If +you accuse me, I will accuse you and ruin you--leave me my wealth, and I +will you your honor.' This is what I must seek for, and what I must +find." + + + + +CHAPTER LXI + +THE PRISONER. + +Meanwhile a different scene was passing in the Rue St. Claude, where M. +de Cagliostro had lodged Oliva in the old house, to keep her from the +pursuit of the police. There she lived, retired, and almost happy: +Cagliostro lavished care and attentions on her, and she liked being +protected by this great lord, who asked nothing from her in return. Only +what did he want? she often asked herself, uselessly, for he must have +some object. Her amour propre made her decide that after all he was in +love with her; and she began to build castles in the air in which we +must confess poor Beausire now very rarely had a place. Therefore the +two visits a week paid to her by Cagliostro were always eagerly looked +forward to, and between them she amused herself with her dreams, and +playing the great lady. However, her books were soon read through, at +least such as suited her taste, and pictures and music soon wearied her. +She soon began to regret her mornings passed at the windows of the Rue +Dauphine, where she used to sit to attract the attention of the +passers-by; and her delightful promenades in the Quartier St. Germain, +where so many people used to turn to look after her. True, the +police-agents were formidable people, but what availed safety if she was +not amused; so she first regretted her liberty, and then regretted +Beausire. + +Then she began to lose her appetite for want of fresh air, for she had +been used to walk every day. + +One day, when she was bemoaning her fate, she received an unexpected +visit from Cagliostro. He gave his accustomed signal, and she opened the +door, which was always kept bolted, with an eagerness which showed her +delight; and, seizing his hands, she cried, in an impatient voice, +"Monsieur, I am ennuyee here." + +"This is unlucky, my dear child." + +"I shall die here." + +"Really?" + +"Yes." + +"Well," said he, soothingly, "do not blame me, blame the lieutenant of +police, who persecutes you." + +"You exasperate me with your sang froid, monsieur; I would rather you +flew in a passion." + +"Confess, mademoiselle, that you are unreasonable," said he, seating +himself. + +"It is all very well for you to talk," replied she; "you come and go as +you like, you breathe the fresh air, your life is full of pleasure. I +vegetate in the space to which you have limited me, and your assistance, +is useless to me if I am to die here." + +"Die!" said the count, smiling. + +"You behave very badly to me; you forget that I love passionately." + +"M. Beausire?" + +"Yes, Beausire, I love him. I always told you so. Did you think I had +forgotten him?" + +"So little did I think so, mademoiselle, that I bring you news of him." + +"Ah!" + +"He is a charming person, young and handsome, is he not?" + +"Full of imagination and fire, rather rough toward me, but that is his +way of showing his love." + +"Therefore I wished to take you back to him." + +"You did not wish that a month ago." + +"No, but when I see how you love him." + +"Ah! you are laughing at me." + +"Oh, no, you have resisted all my advances so well." + +"Yes, have I not?" + +"It was your love for him." + +"But yours, then, was not very tenacious." + +"No, I am neither old enough nor ugly enough, neither poor enough nor +foolish enough, to run the risk of a refusal; and I saw that you would +always have preferred Beausire." + +"Oh, but," cried the coquette, using her eyes, which had remained idle +so long, "this famous compact which you proposed to me, the right of +always giving me your arm, of visiting me when you liked; did that give +you no hope?" + +Cagliostro did not reply, but turned his eyes as if dazzled by her +glances. + +"Let us return to Beausire," she said, piqued at his indifference; "why +have you not brought him here? it would have been a charity. He is +free----" + +"Because," replied Cagliostro, "Beausire has too much imagination, and +has also embroiled himself with the police." + +"What has he done?" + +"Oh, a delightful trick, a most ingenious idea; I call it a joke, but +matter-of-fact people--and you know how matter-of-fact M. de Crosne can +be--call it a theft." + +"A theft!" cried Oliva, frightened. "Is he arrested?" + +"No, but he is pursued." + +"And is he in danger?" + +"That I cannot tell you; he is well hunted for, and if you were +together, the chances of his being taken would be doubled." + +"Oh, yes, he must hide, poor fellow; I will hide too; let me leave +France, monsieur. Pray render me this service; for if I remain shut up +here, I shall end by committing some imprudence." + +"What do you call imprudence?" + +"Oh, just getting some fresh air." + +"I do not want to prevent your getting fresh air; you would lose your +beauty, and M. Beausire would love you no longer. Open the windows as +much as you like." + +"Oh, I see I have offended you; you care no more about me." + +"Offended me--how?" + +"Because you had taken a fancy to me, and I repulsed you. A man of your +consequence, a handsome man like you, has a right to be angry at being +rejected by a poor girl like me. But do not abandon me, sir, I entreat;" +and she put her arms round his neck. + +"Poor little thing," said he, kissing her forehead; "do not be afraid; I +am not angry or offended. Indeed, were you to offer me your love, I +should refuse you, so much do I desire to inspire pure sentiments. +Besides, I should think you influenced more by gratitude than love; so +we will remain as we are, and I will continue to protect you." + +Oliva let his hand fall, humiliated, and duped by the pretended +generosity of Cagliostro. "Oh, I shall say henceforth," she cried, +"that there are men superior to what I ever thought." + +"All women are good," thought Cagliostro, "if you only touch the right +chord.--From this evening," he said aloud, "you shall move to other +rooms, where the windows look on Menilmontant and the Bellevue. You need +not fear to show yourself to the neighbors; they are all honest, simple +people, who will never suspect you. Only keep a little back from the +window, lest any one passing through the street should see you. At least +you will have air and sunshine." + +Oliva looked pleased. + +"Shall I conduct you there now?" + +"Oh, yes." + +He took a light, and she followed him up a staircase to the third story, +and entered a room, completely furnished, and ready for occupation. + +"One would think it was prepared for me," she said. + +"Not for you, but for myself; I like this place, and often come here to +sleep. Nothing shall be wanting to make you comfortable, and your +femme-de-chambre shall attend you in a quarter of an hour." And he left +the room. + +The poor prisoner sat down by her elegant bed, murmuring, "I understand +nothing of all this." + + + + +CHAPTER LXII. + +THE LOOK OUT. + + +Oliva went to bed, and slept better. She admired the count, whom she did +not in the least understand. She could no longer think him timid; she +did not suspect that he was only cold and insensible. She felt pleased +at the perfect safety in which he assured her she was; and in the +morning she examined her new rooms, and found them nobly and luxuriously +furnished, and enjoyed immensely her privilege of going out into the +balcony, filled with flowers, and where she got sunshine and fresh air, +although she drew back whenever she saw any one approaching, or heard a +carriage coming. There were not many, however, in the Rue St. Claude. +She could see the chateau of Menilmontant, the great trees in the +cemetery, myriads of houses of all colors; and she could see the fields +beyond, full of children at play, and the peasants trotting along the +roads on their donkeys. All this charmed Oliva, who had always a heart +of love for the country, since she had left Taverney Maison-Rouge. At +last, getting tired of this distant view, she began to examine the +houses opposite to her. In some, she saw birds in cages; and in one, +hung with yellow silk curtains, and ornamented with flowers, she thought +she could distinguish a figure moving about. She called her +femme-de-chambre to make inquiries about them; but the woman could only +show her mistress all the churches, and tell her the names of the +streets; she knew nothing of the neighbors. Oliva therefore sent her +away again, and determined to watch for herself. + +She saw some open their doors, and come out for a walk, and others +variously occupied. At last she saw the figure of a woman seat herself +in an armchair, in the room with the yellow curtains, and abandon her +head for an hour and a half to a hair-dresser, while he built up one of +those immense edifices worn at that time, in which minerals, vegetables, +and even animals, were introduced. At last, it was complete: Oliva +thought she looked pretty, and admired her little foot, encased in a +rose-colored slipper, which rested on another chair. She began to +construct all sorts of romances about this lady, and made various +movements to attract her attention, but she never turned her eyes that +way, as that room had never before been occupied, and she began to +despair. The lady was, of course, Jeanne de Valois, who was deeply +absorbed in devising some scheme for preventing the queen and the +cardinal from meeting. At last, Oliva, turning suddenly round, knocked +over a flower-pot which fell from the balcony with a crash: at the sound +the lady turned and saw her, and clasping her hands she called out, +"The Queen;" but looking again, she murmured, "Oh! I sought for a means +to gain my end, and I have found one." Then, hearing a sound behind her, +Oliva turned and saw Cagliostro, and came in directly. + + + + +CHAPTER LXIII. + +THE TWO NEIGHBORS. + + +Cagliostro recommended her using the greatest circumspection, and, above +all, not to make friends with her neighbors; but she did not feel +disposed to relinquish the intercourse which she hoped for with her fair +neighbor opposite. She, however, promised to obey him; but he was no +sooner gone than she returned to her balcony, hoping to attract her +attention again. Nor was she disappointed, for Jeanne, who was watching +for her, acknowledged her with a bow and by kissing her hand. This went +on for two days. Jeanne was ever ready to wave her a good morning, or an +adieu when she went out. + +Cagliostro, at his next visit, informed Oliva that an unknown person had +paid a visit to her hotel. + +"What do you mean?" cried Oliva. + +"A very pretty and elegant lady presented herself here, and asked the +servant who inhabited this story, and wished to see you. I fear you are +discovered; you must take care, the police have female spies as well as +male, and I warn you, that if M. de Crosne claims you, I cannot refuse +to give you up." + +Oliva was not at all frightened, she recognized the portrait of her +opposite neighbor, and felt delighted at this advance, but she +dissembled with the count, and said, "Oh! I am not at all frightened; no +one has seen me; she could not have meant me." + +"But she said a lady in these rooms." + +"Well, I will be more careful than ever, and, besides, this house is so +impenetrable." + +"Yes, without climbing the wall, which is not easy, or opening the +little door with a key like mine, which I never lend, no one can come +in, so I think you are safe." + +Oliva overwhelmed the count with thanks and protestations, but at six +o'clock the next morning she was out in the balcony. She had not long to +wait before Jeanne appeared, who, after looking cautiously up and down +the street, and observing that all the doors and windows were still +closed, and that everything was quiet, called across, "I wish to pay you +a visit, madame; is it impossible to see you?" + +"Alas, yes!" said Oliva. + +"Can I send a letter?" + +"Oh, no!" + +Jeanne, after a moment's thought, left her balcony, but soon returned +with a cross-bow, with which she shot a little wooden ball right through +the open window of Oliva's room. + +She picked it up and found wrapped round it the following note: + + "You interest me, beautiful lady. I find you charming, and love you + only by having seen you. Are you a prisoner? I vainly tried to + obtain admission to you. Does the enchanter who guards you never + let any one approach you? Will you be my friend? If you cannot go + out, you can at least write, and as I go out when I please, wait + till you see me pass, and then throw out your answer. Tie a thread + to your balcony, and attach your note to it; I will take it off and + fasten mine on, and in the dark no one will observe us. If your + eyes have not deceived me, I count on a return of my affection and + esteem, and between us we will outwit any one. + + "YOUR FRIEND." + +Oliva trembled with joy when she read this note. She replied as follows: + + "I love you as you love me. I am a victim of the wickedness and + cruelty of men; but he who keeps me here is a protector and not a + tyrant; he comes to see me nearly every day. I will explain all + this some day; but, alas! I cannot go out; I am locked up. Oh! if I + could but see you; there is so much we cannot write. + + "Your friend, + + "OLIVA LEGAY." + +Then, when evening came, she let the thread fall over the balcony. +Jeanne, who was below, caught it, and half an hour afterwards attached +to it the following answer: + + "You seem generally alone. How is your house secured--with a key? + Who has this key? Could you not borrow or steal it? It would be no + harm, but would procure you a few hours of liberty, or a few walks + with a friend, who would console you for all your misfortune." + +Oliva devoured this eagerly. She had remarked that when the count came +in he put down his lantern and the key on a chiffonier. So she prepared +some wax to take the impression of the key at his first visit. This she +accomplished without his once turning to look at her, and as soon as he +was gone, she put it into a little box, and lowered it to Jeanne, with a +note. + +The next day she received the following answer: + + "MY DEAREST, + + "To-night, at eleven o'clock, you will descend and unlock the door, + when you will find yourself in the arms of your faithful friend." + +Oliva felt more charmed than with the most tender love-letter that she +had ever received. At the appointed time she went down and met Jeanne, +who embraced her tenderly, and made her get into a carriage that waited +a little way off; they remained out two hours, and parted with kisses +and protestations of affection. Jeanne learned the name of Oliva's +protector; she feared this man, and determined to preserve the most +perfect mystery as to her plans. Oliva had confided everything to her +about Beausire, the police, and all. Jeanne gave herself out for a young +lady of rank, living here secretly, without the knowledge of her +friends. One knew all, the other nothing. From this day, then, it was no +longer necessary to throw out notes; Jeanne had her key, and carried off +Oliva whenever she pleased. "M. de Cagliostro suspects nothing?" she +often asked Oliva. + +"Oh! no," she would reply; "I do not think he would believe it if I told +him." + +A week passed thus. + + + + +CHAPTER LXIV. + +THE RENDEZVOUS. + + +When Charny arrived at his estates, the doctor ordered him to keep +within doors, and not receive visitors; orders which he rigorously +obeyed, to the great disappointment of all the young ladies in the +neighborhood, who were most anxious to see this young man, reputed to be +at once so brave and so handsome. His malady, however, was more mental +than bodily; he was devoured by regrets, by longings, and by ennui; so, +after a week, he set off one night on horseback, and, before the +morning, was at Versailles. He found a little house there, outside the +park, which had been empty for some time; it had been inhabited by one +of the king's huntsmen, who had cut his throat, and since then the place +had been deserted. There Charny lived in profound solitude; but he could +see the queen from afar when she walked in the park with her ladies, and +when she went in again he could see her windows from his own, and watch +her lights every evening until they disappeared; and he even fancied he +could see her shadow pass before the window. One evening he had watched +all this as usual, and after sitting two hours longer at his window, was +preparing to go to bed, for midnight was striking from a neighboring +clock, when the sound of a key turning in a lock arrested his +attention. It was that of a little door leading into the park, only +twenty paces from his cottage, and which was never used, except +sometimes on hunting-days. Whoever it was that entered did not speak, +but closed it again quietly, and entered an avenue under his windows. At +first Charny could not distinguish them through the thick wood, though +he could hear the rustling of dresses; but as they emerged into an open +space, and bright moonlight, he almost uttered a cry of joy in +recognizing the tournure of Marie Antoinette, and a glimpse of her face; +she held in her hand a beautiful rose. Stifling his emotion, he stepped +down as quietly as possible into the park, and hid behind a clump of +trees, where he could see her better. "Oh!" thought he, "were she but +alone, I would brave tortures, or death itself, that I might once fall +on my knees before her, and tell her, 'I love you!'" Oh, were she but +menaced by some danger, how gladly would he have risked his life to save +hers. Suddenly the two ladies stopped, and the shortest, after saying a +few words to her companion in a low voice, left her. The queen, +therefore, remained alone, and Charny felt inclined to run towards her; +but he reflected that the moment she saw him she would take fright, and +call out, and that her cries would first bring back her companion, and +then the guards; that his retreat would be discovered, and he should be +forced to leave it. In a few minutes the other lady reappeared, but not +alone. Behind her came a man muffled up in a large cloak, and whose face +was concealed by a slouch hat. + +This man advanced with an uncertain and hesitating step to where the +queen stood, when he took off his hat and made a low bow. The surprise +which Charny felt at first soon changed into a more painful feeling. Why +was the queen in the park at this time of night? Who was this man who +was waiting for her, and whom she had sent her companion to fetch? Then +he remembered that the queen often occupied herself with foreign +politics, much to the annoyance of the king. Was this a secret +messenger from Schoenbrunn, or from Berlin? This idea restored him to +some degree of composure. The queen's companion stood a few steps off, +anxiously watching lest they should be seen; but it was as necessary to +guard against spies in a secret political rendezvous as in one of love. +After a short time Charny saw the gentleman bow to the ground, and turn +to leave, when the companion of the queen said to him, "Stop." He +stopped, and the two ladies passed close to Charny, who could even +recognize the queen's favorite scent, vervain, mixed with mignonette. +They passed on, and disappeared. A few moments after the gentleman +passed; he held in his hand a rose, which he pressed passionately to his +lips. Did this look political? Charny's head turned; he felt a strong +impulse to rush on this man and tear the flower from him, when the +queen's companion reappeared, and said, "Come, monseigneur." He joined +her quickly, and they went away. Charny remained in a distracted state, +leaning against the tree. + + + + +CHAPTER LXV. + +THE QUEEN'S HAND. + + +When Charny reentered the house, he felt overwhelmed by what he had +seen--that he should have discovered this retreat, which he had thought +so precious, only to be the witness of a crime, committed by the queen +against her conjugal duty and royal dignity. This man must be a lover; +in vain did he try to persuade himself that the rose was the pledge of +some political compact, given instead of a letter, which might have been +too compromising. The passionate kiss which he had seen imprinted on it +forbade this supposition. These thoughts haunted him all night and all +the next day, through which he waited with a feverish impatience, +fearing the new revelations which the night might bring forth. He saw +her taking her ordinary walk with her ladies, then watched the lights +extinguished one by one, and he waited nervously for the stroke of +midnight, the hour of the rendezvous of the preceding night. It struck, +and no one had appeared. He then wondered how he could have expected it; +she surely would not repeat the same imprudence two nights following. +But as these thoughts passed through his mind, he heard the key turn +again and saw the door open. Charny grew deadly pale when he recognized +the same two figures enter the park. "Oh, it is too much," he said to +himself, and then repeated his movements of the night before, swearing +that, whatever happened, he would restrain himself, and remember that +she was his queen. All passed exactly as the night before: the +confidante left and returned with the same man; only this time, instead +of advancing with his former timid respect, he almost ran up to the +queen, and kneeled down before her. Charny could not hear what he said, +but he seemed to speak with passionate energy. She did not reply, but +stood in a pensive attitude; then he spoke again, and at last she said a +few words, in a low voice, when the unknown cried out, in a loud voice, +so that Charny could hear, "Oh! thanks, your majesty, till to-morrow, +then." The queen drew her hood still more over her face, and held out +both her hands to the unknown, who imprinted on them a kiss so long and +tender that Charny gnashed his teeth with rage. The queen then took the +arm of her companion and walked quickly away; the unknown passed also. +Charny remained in a state of fury not to be described; he ran about the +park like a madman: at last he began to wonder where this man came from; +he traced his steps to the door behind the baths of Apollo. He comes not +from Versailles, but from Paris, thought Charny, and to-morrow he will +return, for he said, "to-morrow." Till then let me devour my tears in +silence, but to-morrow shall be the last day of my life, for we will be +four at the rendezvous. + + + + +CHAPTER LXVI. + +WOMAN AND QUEEN. + + +The next night the door opened at the same time, and the two ladies +appeared. Charny had taken his resolution--he would find out who this +lover was; but when he entered the avenue he could see no one--they had +entered the baths of Apollo. He walked towards the door, and saw the +confidante, who waited outside. The queen, then, was in there alone with +her lover; it was too much. Charny was about to seize this woman, and +force her to tell him everything; but the rage and emotion he had +endured were too much for him--a mist passed over his eyes, internal +bleeding commenced, and he fainted. When he came to himself again, the +clock was striking two, the place was deserted, and there was no trace +of what had passed there. He went home, and passed a night almost of +delirium. The next morning he arose, pale as death, and went towards the +Castle of Trianon just as the queen was leaving the chapel. All heads +were respectfully lowered as she passed. She was looking beautiful, and +when she saw Charny she colored, and uttered an exclamation of surprise. + +"I thought you were in the country, M. de Charny," she said. + +"I have returned, madame," said he, in a brusque and almost rude tone. + +She looked at him in surprise; then, turning to the ladies, "Good +morning, countess," she said to Madame de la Motte, who stood near. + +Charny started as he caught sight of her, and looked at her almost +wildly. "He has not quite recovered his reason," thought the queen, +observing his strange manner. Then, turning to him again, "How are you +now, M. de Charny?" said she, in a kind voice. + +"Very well, madame." + +She looked surprised again; then said: + +"Where are you living?" + +"At Versailles, madame." + +"Since when?" + +"For three nights," replied he, in a marked manner. + +The queen manifested no emotion, but Jeanne trembled. + +"Have you not something to say to me?" asked the queen again, with +kindness. + +"Oh, madame, I should have too much to say to your majesty." + +"Come," said she, and she walked towards her apartments; but to avoid +the appearance of a tete-a-tete, she invited several ladies to follow +her. Jeanne, unquiet, placed herself among them; but when they arrived, +she dismissed Madame de Misery, and the other ladies, understanding that +she wished to be alone, left her. Charny stood before her. + +"Speak," said the queen; "you appear troubled, sir." + +"How can I begin?" said Charny, thinking aloud; "how can I dare to +accuse honor and majesty?" + +"Sir!" cried Marie Antoinette, with a flaming look. + +"And yet I should only say what I have seen." + +The queen rose. "Sir," said she, "it is very early in the morning for me +to think you intoxicated, but I can find no other solution for this +conduct." + +Charny, unmoved, continued, "After all, what is a queen?--a woman. And +am I not a man as well as a subject?" + +"Monsieur!" + +"Madame, anger is out of place now. I believe I have formerly proved +that I had respect for your royal dignity. I fear I proved that I had an +insane love for yourself. Choose, therefore, to whom I shall speak. Is +it to the queen, or the woman, that I shall address my accusation of +dishonor and shame?" + +"Monsieur de Charny," cried the queen, growing pale, "if you do not +leave this room, I must have you turned out by my guards!" + +"But I will tell you first," cried he, passionately, "why I call you an +unworthy queen and woman! I have been in the park these three nights!" + +Instead of seeing her tremble, as he believed she would on hearing these +words, the queen rose, and, approaching him, said, "M. de Charny, your +state excites my pity. Your hands tremble, you grow pale; you are +suffering. Shall I call for help?" + +"I saw you!" cried he again; "saw you with that man to whom you gave the +rose! saw you when he kissed your hands! saw you when you entered the +baths of Apollo with him!" + +The queen passed her hands over her eyes, as if to make sure that she +was not dreaming. + +"Sit down," said she, "or you will fall." + +Charny, indeed, unable to keep up, fell upon the sofa. + +She sat down by him. "Be calm," said she, "and repeat what you have just +said." + +"Do you want to kill me?" he murmured. + +"Then let me question," she said. "How long have you returned from the +country?" + +"A fortnight." + +"Where do you live?" + +"In the huntsman's house, which I have hired." + +"At the end of the park?" + +"Yes." + +"You speak of some one whom you saw with me." + +"Yes." + +"Where?" + +"In the park." + +"When?" + +"At midnight. Tuesday, for the first time, I saw you and your +companion." + +"Oh, I had a companion! Do you know her also?" + +"I thought just now I recognized her, but I could not be positive, +because it was only the figure--she always hid her face, like all who +commit crimes." + +"And this person to whom you say I gave a rose?" + +"I have never been able to meet him." + +"You do not know him, then?" + +"Only that he is called monseigneur." + +The queen stamped her foot. + +"Go on!" said she. "Tuesday I gave him a rose----" + +"Wednesday you gave him your hands to kiss, and yesterday you went alone +with him into the baths of Apollo, while your companion waited outside." + +"And you saw me?" said she, rising. + +He lifted his hands to heaven, and cried, "I swear it!" + +"Oh, he swears!" + +"Yes. On Tuesday you wore your green dress, moiree, with gold; +Wednesday, the dress with great blue and brown leaves; and yesterday, +the same dress that you wore when I last kissed your hand. Oh, madame, I +am ready to die with grief and shame while I repeat that, on my life, my +honor, it was really you!" + +"What can I say?" cried the queen dreadfully agitated. "If I swore, he +would not believe me." + +Charny shook his head. + +"Madman!" cried she, "thus to accuse your queen--to dishonor thus an +innocent woman! Do you believe me when I swear, by all I hold sacred, +that I was not in the park on either of those days after four o'clock? +Do you wish it to be proved by my women--by the king? No; he does not +believe me." + +"I saw you," replied he. + +"Oh, I know!" she cried. "Did they not see me at the ball at the Opera, +at Mesmer's, scandalizing the crowd? You know it--you, who fought for +me!" + +"Madame, then I fought because I did not believe it; now I might fight, +but I believe." + +The queen raised her arms to heaven, while burning tears rolled down her +cheeks. + +"My God," she cried, "send me some thought which will save me! I do not +wish this man to despise me." + +Charny, moved to the heart, hid his face in his hands. + +Then, after a moment's silence, the queen continued: + +"Sir, you owe me reparation. I exact this from you. You say you have +seen me three nights with a man; I have been already injured through +the resemblance to me of some woman, I know not whom, but who is like +her unhappy queen; but you are pleased to think it was me. Well, I will +go with you into the park; and if she appears again, you will be +satisfied? Perhaps we shall see her together; then, sir, you will regret +the suffering you have caused me." + +Charny pressed his hands to his heart. + +"Oh, madame, you overwhelm me with your kindness!" + +"I wish to overwhelm you with proofs. Not a word, to any one, but this +evening, at ten o'clock, wait alone at the door of the park. Now go, +sir." + +Charny kneeled, and went away without a word. + +Jeanne, who was waiting in the ante-chamber, examined him attentively as +he came out. She was soon after summoned to the queen. + + + + +CHAPTER LXVII. + +WOMAN AND DEMON. + + +Jeanne had remarked the trouble of Charny, the solicitude of the queen, +and the eagerness of both for a conversation. + +After what we have already told of the meetings between Jeanne and +Oliva, our readers will have been at no loss to understand the scenes in +the park. Jeanne, when she came in to the queen, watched her closely, +hoping to gather something from her; but Marie Antoinette was beginning +to learn caution, and she guarded herself carefully. Jeanne was, +therefore, reduced to conjectures. She had already ordered one of her +footmen to follow M. de Charny; the man reported that he had gone into a +house at the end of the park. + +"There is, then, no more doubt," thought Jeanne; "it is a lover who has +seen everything, it is clear. I should be a fool not to understand. I +must undo what I have done." + +On leaving Versailles, she drove to the Rue St. Claude; there she found +a superb present of plate, sent to her by the cardinal. She then drove +to his house, and found him radiant with joy and pride. On her entrance +he ran to meet her, calling her "Dear countess," and full of +protestations and gratitude. + +"Thank you also, for your charming present. You are more than a happy +man; you are a triumphant victor." + +"Countess, it frightens me; it is too much." + +Jeanne smiled. + +"You come from Versailles?" continued he. + +"Yes." + +"You have seen her?" + +"I have just left her." + +"And she said nothing?" + +"What do you expect that she said?" + +"Oh, I am insatiable." + +"Well, you had better not ask." + +"You frighten me. Is anything wrong? Have I come to the height of my +happiness, and is the descent to begin?" + +"You are very fortunate not to have been discovered." + +"Oh! with precautions, and the intelligence of two hearts and one +mind----" + +"That will not prevent eyes seeing through the trees." + +"We have been seen?" + +"I fear so." + +"And recognized?" + +"Oh, monseigneur, if you had been--if this secret had been known to any +one, Jeanne de Valois would be out of the kingdom, and you would be +dead." + +"True; but tell me quickly. They have seen people walking in the park; +is there any harm in that?" + +"Ask the king." + +"The king knows?" + +"I repeat to you, if the king knew, you would be in the Bastile. But I +advise you not to tempt Providence again." + +"What do you mean, dear countess?" + +"Do you not understand?" + +"I fear to understand," he replied. + +"I shall fear, if you do not promise to go no more to Versailles." + +"By day?" + +"Or by night." + +"Impossible!" + +"Why so, monseigneur?" + +"Because I have in my heart a love which will end only with my life." + +"So I perceive," replied she, ironically; "and it is to arrive more +quickly at this result that you persist in returning to the park; for +most assuredly, if you do, your love and your life will end together." + +"Oh, countess, how fearful you are--you who were so brave yesterday!" + +"I am always brave when there is no danger." + +"But I have the bravery of my race, and am happier in the presence of +danger." + +"But permit me to tell you----" + +"No, countess, the die is cast. Death, if it comes; but first, love. I +shall return to Versailles." + +"Alone, then." + +"You abandon me?" + +"And not I alone." + +"She will come?" + +"You deceive yourself; she will not come." + +"Is that what you were sent to tell me?" + +"It is what I have been preparing you for." + +"She will see me no more?" + +"Never; and it is I who have counseled it." + +"Madame, do not plunge the knife into my heart!" cried he, in a doleful +voice. + +"It would be much more cruel, monseigneur, to let two foolish people +destroy themselves for want of a little good advice." + +"Countess, I would rather die." + +"As regards yourself, that is easy; but, subject, you dare not dethrone +your queen; man, you will not destroy a woman." + +"But confess that you do not come in her name, that she does not throw +me off." + +"I speak in her name." + +"It is only a delay she asks?" + +"Take it as you wish; but obey her orders." + +"The park is not the only place of meeting. There are a hundred safer +spots--the queen can come to you, for instance." + +"Monseigneur, not a word more. The weight of your secret is too much for +me, and I believe her capable, in a fit of remorse, of confessing all to +the king." + +"Good God! impossible." + +"If you saw her, you would pity her." + +"What can I do then?" + +"Insure your safety by your silence." + +"But she will think I have forgotten her, and accuse me of being a +coward." + +"To save her." + +"Can a woman forgive him who abandons her?" + +"Do not judge her like others." + +"I believe her great and strong. I love her for her courage and her +noble heart. She may count on me, as I do on her. Once more I will see +her, lay bare my heart to her; and whatever she then commands, I will +sacredly obey." + +Jeanne rose. "Go, then," said she, "but go alone. I have thrown the key +of the park into the river. You can go to Versailles--I shall go to +Switzerland or Holland. The further off I am when the shell bursts the +better." + +"Countess, you abandon me. With whom shall I talk of her?" + +"Oh! you have the park and the echoes. You can teach them her name!" + +"Countess, pity me; I am in despair." + +"Well, but do not act in so childish and dangerous a manner. If you love +her so much, guard her name, and if you are not totally without +gratitude, do not involve in your own ruin those who have served you +through friendship. Swear to me not to attempt to see or speak to her +for a fortnight, and I will remain, and may yet be of service to you. +But if you decide to brave all, I shall leave at once, and you must +extricate yourself as you can." + +"It is dreadful," murmured the cardinal; "the fall from so much +happiness is overwhelming. I shall die of it." + +"Suffering is always the consequence of love. Come, monseigneur, decide. +Am I to remain here, or start for Lausanne?" + +"Remain, countess." + +"You swear to obey me." + +"On the faith of a Rohan." + +"Good. Well, then, I forbid interviews, but not letters." + +"Really! I may write?" + +"Yes." + +"And she will answer." + +"Try." + +The cardinal kissed Jeanne's hand again, and called her his guardian +angel. The demon within her must have laughed. + + + + +CHAPTER LXVIII. + +THE NIGHT. + + +That day, at four o'clock, a man on horseback stopped in the outskirts +of the park, just behind the baths of Apollo, where M. de Rohan used to +wait. He got off, and looked at the places where the grass had been +trodden down. "Here are the traces," thought he; "it is as I supposed. +M. de Charny has returned for a fortnight, and this is where he enters +the park." And he sighed. "Leave him to his happiness. God gives to one, +and denies to another. But I will have proof to-night. I will hide in +the bushes, and see what happens." + +As for Charny, obedient to the queen's commands, he waited for orders; +but it was half-past ten, and no one appeared. He waited with impatient +anxiety. Then he began to think she had deceived him, and had promised +what she did not mean to perform. "How could I be so foolish--I, who saw +her--to be taken in by her words and promises!" At last he saw a figure +approaching, wrapped in a large black mantle, and he uttered a cry of +joy, for he recognized the queen. He ran to her, and fell at her feet. + +"Ah, here you are, sir! it is well." + +"Ah, madame! I scarcely hoped you were coming." + +"Have you your sword?" + +"Yes, madame." + +"Where do you say those people came in?" + +"By this door." + +"At what time?" + +"At midnight each time." + +"There is no reason why they should not come again to-night. You have +not spoken to any one." + +"To no one." + +"Come into the thick wood, and let us watch, I have not spoken of this +to M. de Crosne. I have already mentioned this creature to him, and if +she be not arrested, he is either incapable, or in league with my +enemies. It seems incredible that any one should dare to play such +tricks under my eyes, unless they were sure of impunity. Therefore, I +think it is time to take the care of my reputation on myself. What do +you think?" + +"Oh, madame! allow me to be silent! I am ashamed of all I have said." + +"At least you are an honest man," replied the queen, "and speak to the +accused face to face. You do not stab in the dark." + +"Oh, madame, it is eleven o'clock! I tremble." + +"Look about, that no one is here." + +Charny obeyed. + +"No one," said he. + +"Where did the scenes pass that you have described?" + +"Oh, madame! I had a shock when I returned to you; for she stood just +where you are at this moment." + +"Here!" cried the queen, leaving the place with disgust. + +"Yes, madame; under the chestnut tree." + +"Then, sir, let us move, for they will most likely come here again." + +He followed the queen to a different place. She, silent and proud, +waited for the proof of her innocence to appear. Midnight struck. The +door did not open. Half an hour passed, during which the queen asked ten +times if they had always been punctual. + +Three-quarters struck--the queen stamped with impatience. "They will not +come," she cried; "these misfortunes only happen to me;" and she looked +at Charny, ready to quarrel with him, if she saw any expression of +triumph or irony: but he, as his suspicions began to return, grew so +pale and looked so melancholy, that he was like the figure of a martyr. + +At last she took his arm, and led him under the chestnut tree. "You +say," she murmured, "that it was here you saw her?" + +"Yes, madame." + +"Here that she gave the rose?" And the queen, fatigued and wearied with +waiting and disappointment leaned against the tree, and covered her face +with her hands, but Charny could see the tears stealing through. At last +she raised her head: + +"Sir," said she, "I am condemned. I promised to prove to you to-day that +I was calumniated; God does not permit it, and I submit. I have done +what no other woman, not to say queen, would have done. What a queen! +who cannot reign over one heart, who cannot obtain the esteem of one +honest man. Come, sir, give me your arm, if you do not despise me too +much." + +"Oh, madame!" cried he, falling at her feet, "if I were only an unhappy +man who loves you, could you not pardon me?" + +"You!" cried she, with a bitter laugh, "you love me! and believe me +infamous!" + +"Oh, madame!" + +"You accuse me of giving roses, kisses, and love. No, sir, no +falsehoods! you do not love me." + +"Madame, I saw these phantoms. Pity me, for I am on the rack." + +She took his hands. "Yes, you saw, and you think it was I. Well, if here +under this same tree, you at my feet, I press your hands, and say to +you, 'M, de Charny, I love you, I have loved, and shall love no one else +in this world, may God pardon me'--will that convince you? Will you +believe me then?" As she spoke, she came so close to him that he felt +her breath on his lips. "Oh!" cried Charny, "now I am ready to die." + +"Give me your arm," said she, "and teach me where they went, and where +she gave the rose,"--and she took from her bosom a rose and held it to +him. He took it and pressed it to his heart. + +"Then," continued she, "the other gave him her hand to kiss." + +"Both her hands," cried Charny, pressing his burning lips passionately +on hers. + +"Now they visited, the baths--so will we; follow me to the place." He +followed her, like a man in a strange, happy dream. They looked all +round, then opened the door, and walked through. Then they came out +again: two o'clock struck. "Adieu," said she; "go home until to-morrow." +And she walked away quickly towards the chateau. + +When they were gone, a man rose from among the bushes. He had heard and +seen all. + + + + +CHAPTER LXIX. + +THE CONGE. + + +The queen went to mass the next day, which was Sunday, smiling and +beautiful. When she woke in the morning she said, "It is a lovely day, +it makes me happy only to live." She seemed full of joy, and was +generous and gracious to every one. The road was lined as usual on her +return with ladies and gentlemen. Among them were Madame de la Motte and +M. de Charny, who was complimented by many friends on his return, and on +his radiant looks. Glancing round, he saw Philippe standing near him, +whom he had not seen since the day of the duel. + +"Gentlemen," said Charny, passing through the crowd, "allow me to fulfil +an act of politeness;" and, advancing towards Philippe, he said, "Allow +me, M. de Taverney, to thank you now for the interest you have taken in +my health. I shall have the honor to pay you a visit to-morrow. I trust +you preserve no enmity towards me." + +"None, sir," replied Philippe. + +Charny held out his hand, but Philippe, without seeming to notice it, +said, "Here comes the queen, sir." As she approached, she fixed her +looks on Charny with that rash openness which she always showed in her +affections, while she said to several gentlemen who were pressing round +her, "Ask me what you please, gentlemen, for to-day I can refuse +nothing." A voice said, "Madame." She turned, and saw Philippe, and thus +found herself between two men, of whom she almost reproached herself +with loving one too much and the other too little. + +"M. de Taverney, you have something to ask me; pray speak----" + +"Only ten minutes' audience at your majesty's leisure," replied he, with +grave solemnity. + +"Immediately, sir--follow me." A quarter of an hour after, Philippe was +introduced into the library, where the queen waited for him. + +"Ah! M. de Taverney, enter," said she in a gay tone, "and do not look so +sorrowful. Do you know I feel rather frightened whenever a Taverney asks +for an audience. Reassure me quickly, and tell me that you are not come +to announce a misfortune." + +"Madame, this time I only bring you good news." + +"Oh! some news." + +"Alas, yes, your majesty." + +"There! an 'alas' again." + +"Madame, I am about to assure your majesty that you need never again +fear to be saddened by the sight of a Taverney; for, madame, the last of +this family, to whom you once deigned to show some kindness, is about to +leave the court of France forever." + +The queen, dropping her gay tone, said, "You leave us?" + +"Yes, your majesty." + +"You also!" + +Philippe bowed. "My sister, madame, has already had that grief; I am +much more useless to your majesty." + +The queen started as she remembered that Andree had asked for her conge +on the day following her first visit to Charny in the doctor's +apartments. "It is strange," she murmured, as Philippe remained +motionless as a statue, waiting his dismissal. At last she said +abruptly, "Where are you going?" + +"To join M. de la Perouse, madame." + +"He is at Newfoundland." + +"I have prepared to join him there." + +"Do you know that a frightful death has been predicted for him?" + +"A speedy one," replied Philippe; "that is not necessarily a frightful +one." + +"And you are really going?" + +"Yes, madame, to share his fate." + +The queen was silent for a time, and then said, "Why do you go?" + +"Because I am anxious to travel." + +"But you have already made the tour of the world." + +"Of the New World, madame, but not of the Old." + +"A race of iron, with hearts of steel, are you Taverneys. You and your +sister are terrible people--you go not for the sake of traveling, but to +leave me. Your sister said she was called by religions duty; it was a +pretext. However, she wished to go, and she went. May she be happy! You +might be happy here, but you also wish to go away." + +"Spare us, I pray you, madame; if you could read our hearts, you would +find them full of unlimited devotion towards you." + +"Oh!" cried the queen, "you are too exacting; she takes the world for a +heaven, where one should only live as a saint; you look upon it as a +hell--and both fly from it; she because she finds what she does not +seek, and you because you do not find what you do seek. Am I not right? +Ah! M. de Taverney, allow human beings to be imperfect, and do not +expect royalty to be superhuman. Be more tolerant, or, rather, less +egotistical." She spoke earnestly, and continued: "All I know is, that I +loved Andree, and that she left me; that I valued you, and you are about +to do the same. It is humiliating to see two such people abandon my +court." + +"Nothing can humiliate persons like your majesty. Shame does not reach +those placed so high." + +"What has wounded you?" asked the queen. + +"Nothing, madame." + +"Your rank has been raised, your fortune was progressing." + +"I can but repeat to your majesty that the court does not please me." + +"And if I ordered you to stay here?" + +"I should have the grief of disobeying your majesty." + +"Oh! I know," cried she impatiently, "you bear malice; you quarreled +with a gentleman here, M. de Charny, and wounded him; and because you +see him returned to-day, you are jealous, and wish to leave." + +Philippe turned pale, but replied, "Madame, I saw him sooner than you +imagine, for I met him at two o'clock this morning by the baths of +Apollo." + +It was now the queen's time to grow pale, but she felt a kind of +admiration for one who had retained so much courtesy and self-command in +the midst of his anger and grief. "Go," murmured she at length, in a +faint voice, "I will keep you no longer." + +Philippe bowed, and left the room, while the queen sank, terrified and +overwhelmed, on the sofa. + + + + +CHAPTER LXX. + +THE JEALOUSY OF THE CARDINAL. + + +The cardinal passed three nights very different to those when he went to +the park, and which he constantly lived over again in his memory. No +news of any one, no hope of a visit; nothing but a dead silence, and +perfect darkness, after such brightness and happiness. He began to fear +that, after all, his sacrifice had been displeasing to the queen. His +uneasiness became insupportable. He sent ten times in one day to Madame +de la Motte: the tenth messenger brought Jeanne to him. On seeing her he +cried out, "How! you live so tranquilly; you know my anxiety, and you, +my friend, never come near me." + +"Oh, monseigneur, patience, I beg. I have been far more useful to you at +Versailles than I could have been here." + +"Tell me," replied he, "what does she say? Is she less cruel?" + +"Absence is equal pain, whether borne at Versailles or at Paris." + +"Oh, I thank you, but the proofs----" + +"Proofs! Are you in your senses, monseigneur, to ask a woman for proofs +of her own infidelity?" + +"I am not speaking of proofs for a lawsuit, countess, only a token of +love." + +"It seems to me that you are either very exacting or very forgetful." + +"Oh! I know you will tell me that I might be more than satisfied. But +judge by yourself, countess; would you like to be thrown on one side, +after having received assurances of favor?" + +"Assurances!" + +"Oh, certainly, I have nothing to complain of, but still----" + +"I cannot be answerable for unreasonable discontents." + +"Countess, you treat me ill. Instead of reproaching me for my folly, you +should try to aid me." + +"I cannot aid you. I see nothing to do." + +"Nothing to do?" + +"No." + +"Well, madame, I do not say the same." + +"Ah, monseigneur, anger will not help you; and besides, you are unjust." + +"No, countess; if you do not assist me any longer, I know it is because +you cannot. Only tell me the truth at once." + +"What truth?" + +"That the queen is a perfidious coquette, who makes people adore her, +and then drives them to despair." + +Jeanne looked at him with an air of surprise, although she had expected +him to arrive at this state, and she felt really pleased, for she +thought that it would help her out of her difficult position. "Explain +yourself," she said. + +"Confess that the queen refuses to see me." + +"I do not say so, monseigneur." + +"She wishes to keep me away lest I should rouse the suspicions of some +other lover." + +"Ah, monseigneur!" cried Jeanne in a tone which gave him liberty to +suspect anything. + +"Listen," continued he; "the last time I saw her, I thought I heard +steps in the wood----" + +"Folly!" + +"And I suspect----" + +"Say no more, monseigneur. It is an insult to the queen; besides, even +if it were true that she fears the surveillance of another lover, why +should you reproach her with a past which she has sacrificed to you?" + +"But if this past be again a present, and about to be a future?" + +"Fie, monseigneur, your suspicions are offensive both to the queen and +to me." + +"Then, countess, bring me a proof--does she love me at all?" + +"It is very simple," replied Jeanne, pointing to his writing table, "to +ask her." + +"You will give her a note?" + +"Who else would, if not I?" + +"And you will bring me an answer?" + +"If possible." + +"Ah! now you are a good creature, countess." + +He sat down, but though he was an eloquent writer, he commenced and +destroyed a dozen sheets of paper before he satisfied himself. + +"If you go on so, you will never have done," said Jeanne. + +"You see, countess, I fear my own tenderness, lest I displease the +queen." + +"Oh," replied Jeanne, "if you write a business letter, you will get one +in reply. That is your own affair." + +"You are right, countess; you always see what is best." He then wrote a +letter, so full of loving reproaches and ardent protestations, that +Jeanne, when he gave it to her to read, thought, "He has written of his +own accord what I never should have dared to dictate." + +"Will it do?" asked he. + +"If she loves you. You will see to-morrow: till then be quiet." + +"Till to-morrow, then." + +On her return home Jeanne gave way to her reflections. This letter was +just what she wanted. How could the cardinal ever accuse her, when he +was called on to pay for the necklace? Even admitting that the queen and +cardinal met, and that everything was explained, how could they turn +against her while she held in her hands such proofs of a scandalous +secret? No, they must let her go quietly off with her fortune of a +million and a half of francs. They would know she had stolen the +diamonds, but they never would publish all this affair; and if one +letter was not enough, she would have seven or eight. The first +explosion would come from the jewelers, who would claim their money. +Then she must confess to M. de Rohan, and make him pay by threatening to +publish his letters. Surely they would purchase the honor of a queen and +a prince at the price of a million and a half! The jewelers once paid, +that question was at an end; Jeanne felt sure of her fortune. She knew +that the cardinal had a conviction so firm that nothing could shake it, +that he had met the queen. There was but one living witness against her, +and that one she would soon cause to disappear. Arrived at this point, +she went to the window and saw Oliva, who was watching in her balcony. +She made the accustomed sign for her to come down, and Oliva replied +joyfully. The great thing now was to get rid of her. To destroy the +instrument that has served them is the constant endeavor of those who +intrigue; but here it is that they generally fail; they do not succeed +in doing so before there has been time to disclose the secret. Jeanne +knew that Oliva would not be easy to get rid of, unless she could think +of something that would induce her to fly willingly. Oliva, on her part, +much as she enjoyed her nocturnal promenades at first, after so much +confinement, was already beginning to weary of them, and to sigh once +more for liberty and Beausire. + +The night came, and they went out together; Oliva disguised under a +large cloak and hood, and Jeanne dressed as a grisette; besides which +the carriage bore the respectable arms of Valois, which prevented the +police, who alone might have recognized Oliva, from searching it. + +"Oh! I have been so ennuyee," cried Oliva, "I have been expecting you so +long." + +"It was impossible to come and see you, I should have run, and made you +run, a great danger." + +"How so?" said Oliva, astonished. + +"A terrible danger at which I still tremble. You know how ennuyee you +were, and how much you wished to go out." + +"Yes; and you assisted me like a friend." + +"Certainly; I proposed that we should have some amusement with that +officer who is rather mad, and in love with the queen, whom you resemble +a little; and endeavor to persuade him that it was the queen he was +walking with." + +"Yes," said Oliva. + +"The first two nights you walked in the park, and you played your part +to perfection; he was quite taken in." + +"Yes," said Oliva, "but it was almost a pity to deceive him, poor +fellow, he was so delightful." + +"Yes, but the evil is not there. To give a man a rose, to let him kiss +your hands, and call you 'your majesty,' was all good fun; but, my +little Oliva, it seems you did not stop here." + +Oliva colored. + +"How?" stammered she. + +"There was a third interview." + +"Yes," replied Oliva, hastily, "you know, for you were there." + +"Excuse me, dear friend; I was there, but at a distance. I neither saw +nor heard what passed within, I only know what you told me, that he +talked and kissed your hands." + +"Oh, mon Dieu!" murmured Oliva. + +"You surely could not have exposed us both to such a terrible danger +without telling me of it." + +Oliva trembled from head to foot. + +Jeanne continued. "How could I imagine that you, who said you loved M. +Beausire, and were courted by a man like Count Cagliostro, whom you +refused; oh! it cannot be true." + +"But where is the danger?" asked Oliva. + +"The danger! Have we not to manage a madman, one who fears nothing, and +will not be controlled. It was no great thing for the queen to give him +her hand to kiss or to give him a rose; oh, my dear child, I have not +smiled since I heard this." + +"What do you fear?" asked Oliva, her teeth chattering with terror. + +"Why, as you are not the queen, and have taken her name, and in her name +have committed a folly of this kind, that is unfortunately treason. He +has no proof of this--they may be satisfied with a prison or +banishment." + +"A prison! banishment!" shrieked Oliva. + +"I, at least, intend to take precautions and hide myself." + +"You fear also?" + +"Oh! will not this madman divulge my share also? My poor Oliva, this +trick of yours will cost us dear." + +Oliva burst into tears. + +"Oh!" she cried, "I think I am possessed of a demon, that I can never +rest: just saved from one danger, I must rush into another. Suppose I +confess all to my protector?" + +"A fine story to confess to him, whose advances you refused, that you +have committed this imprudence with a stranger." + +"Mon Dieu! you are right." + +"Soon this report will spread, and will reach his ears; then do you not +think he will give you up to the police? Even if he only send you away, +what will become of you?" + +"Oh! I am lost." + +"And M. Beausire, when he shall hear this----?" + +Oliva started, and wringing her hands violently, cried out, "Oh, he +would kill me; but no, I will kill myself. You cannot save me, since you +are compromised also." + +"I have," replied Jeanne, "in the furthest part of Picardy, a little +farm. If you can gain this refuge, you might be safe." + +"But you?" + +"Oh, once you were gone, I should not fear him." + +"I will go whenever you like." + +"I think you are wise." + +"Must I go at once?" + +"Wait till I have prepared everything to insure safety; meanwhile, hide +yourself, and do not come near the window." + +"Oh yes, dear friend." + +"And to begin, let us go home, as there is no more to say." + +"How long will your preparations take?" + +"I do not know, but remember henceforth, until the day of your departure +I shall not come to the window. When you see me there, you will know +that the day has arrived, and be prepared." + +They returned in silence. On arriving, Oliva begged pardon humbly of her +friend for bringing her into so much danger through her folly. + +"I am a woman," replied Jeanne, "and can pardon a woman's weakness." + + + + +CHAPTER LXXI. + +THE FLIGHT. + + +Oliva kept her promise, and Jeanne also. Oliva hid herself from every +one, and Jeanne made her preparations, and in a few days made her +appearance at the window as a sign to Oliva to be ready that evening for +flight. + +Oliva, divided between joy and terror, began immediately to prepare. +Jeanne went to arrange about the carriage that was to convey her away. +Eleven o'clock at night had just struck when Jeanne arrived with a +post-chaise to which three strong horses were harnessed. A man wrapped +in a cloak sat on the box, directing the postilions. Jeanne made them +stop at the corner of the street, saying, "Remain here--half an hour +will suffice--and then I will bring the person whom you are to conduct +with all possible speed to Amiens. There you will give her into the care +of the farmer who is my tenant; he has his instructions." + +"Yes, madame." + +"I forgot--are you armed? This lady is menaced by a madman; he might, +perhaps, try to stop her on the road." + +"What should I do?" + +"Fire on any one who tries to impede your journey." + +"Yes, madame." + +"You asked me seventy louis; I will give you a hundred, and will pay the +expenses of the voyage which you had better make to London. Do not +return here; it is more prudent for you to go to St. Valery, and embark +at once for England." + +"Rely on me, madame." + +"Well, I will go and bring the lady." + +All seemed asleep in that quiet house. Jeanne lighted the lamp which was +to be the signal to Oliva, but received no answering sign. "She will +come down in the dark," thought Jeanne; and she went to the door, but it +did not open. Oliva was perhaps bringing down her packages. "The fool!" +murmured the countess, "how much time she is wasting over her rubbish!" +She waited a quarter of an hour--no one came; then half-past eleven +struck. "Perhaps she did not see my signal," thought Jeanne; and she +went up and lighted it again, but it was not acknowledged. "She must be +ill," cried Jeanne, in a rage, "and cannot move." Then she took the key +which Oliva had given her; but just as she was about to open the door, +she thought, "Suppose some one should be there? But I should hear voices +on the staircase, and could return. I must risk something." She went up, +and on arriving outside Oliva's door she saw a light inside and heard +footsteps, but no voices. "It is all right," she thought; "she was only +a long time getting ready." "Oliva," said she softly, "open the door." +The door opened, and Jeanne found herself face to face with a man +holding a torch in his hand. + +"Oliva," said he, "is this you?" Then, with a tone of admirably-feigned +surprise, cried, "Madame de la Motte!" + +"M. de Cagliostro!" said she in terror, feeling half inclined to run +away; but he took her hand politely, and begged her to sit down. + +"To what do I owe the honor of this visit, madame?" + +"Monsieur," said she, stammering, "I came--I sought----" + +"Allow me, madame, to inquire which of my servants was guilty of the +rudeness of letting you come up unattended?" + +Jeanne trembled. + +"You must have fallen to the lot of my stupid German porter, who is +always tipsy." + +"Do not scold him, I beg you, sir," replied Jeanne, who could hardly +speak. + +"But was it he?" + +"I believe so. But you promise me not to scold him?" + +"I will not; only, madame, will you now explain to me----" + +Jeanne began to gather courage. + +"I came to consult you, sir, about certain reports." + +"What reports?" + +"Do not hurry me, sir; it is a delicate subject." + +"Ah! you want time to invent," thought he. + +"You are a friend of M. le Cardinal de Rohan?" + +"I am acquainted with him, madame." + +"Well, I came to ask you----" + +"What?" + +"Oh, sir, you must know that he has shown me much kindness, and I wish +to know if I may rely upon it. You understand me, sir? You read all +hearts." + +"You must be a little more explicit before I can assist you, madame." + +"Monsieur, they say that his eminence loves elsewhere in a high +quarter." + +"Madame, allow me first to ask you one question. How did you come to +seek me here, since I do not live here?" Jeanne trembled. "How did you +get in?--for there are neither porter nor servants in this part of my +hotel. It could not be me you sought here--who was it? You do not reply; +I must aid you a little. You came in by the help of a key which you have +now in your pocket. You came to seek a young woman whom from pure +kindness I had concealed here." + +Jeanne trembled visibly, but replied, "If it were so, it is no crime; +one woman is permitted to visit another. Call her; she will tell you if +my friendship is a hurtful one." + +"Madame, you say that because you know she is not here." + +"Not here! Oliva not here?" + +"Oh you do not know that--you, who helped her to escape!" + +"I!" cried Jeanne; "you accuse me of that?" + +"I convict you," replied Cagliostro; and he took a paper from the table, +and showed her the following words, addressed to himself: + + "MONSIEUR, and my generous protector, forgive me for leaving you; + but above all things I love M. Beausire. He came and I follow him. + Adieu! Believe in my gratitude!" + +"Beausire!" cried Jeanne, petrified; "he, who did not even know her +address?" + +"Oh, madame, here is another paper, which was doubtless dropped by M. +Beausire." The countess read, shuddering: + + "M. Beausire will find Mademoiselle Oliva, Rue St. Claude, at the + corner of the boulevard. He had better come for her at once; it is + time. This is the advice of a sincere friend." + +"Oh!" groaned the countess. + +"And he has taken her away," said Cagliostro. + +"But who wrote this note?" + +"Doubtless yourself." + +"But how did he get in?" + +"Probably with your key." + +"But as I have it here, he could not have it." + +"Whoever has one can easily have two." + +"You are convinced," replied she, "while I can only suspect." She turned +and went away, but found the staircase lighted and filled with +men-servants. Cagliostro called out loudly before them, "Madame la +Comtesse de la Motte!" She went out full of rage and disappointment. + + + + +CHAPTER LXXII. + +THE LETTER AND THE RECEIPT. + + +The day arrived for the payment of the first 500,000 francs. The +jewelers had prepared a receipt, but no one came with the money in +exchange for it. They passed the day and night in a state of cruel +anxiety. The following day M. Boehmer went to Versailles, and asked to +see the queen; he was told that he could not be admitted without a +letter of audience. However, he begged so hard, and urged his +solicitations so well among the servants, that they consented to place +him in the queen's way when she went out. Marie Antoinette, still full +of joy from her interview with Charny, came along, looking bright and +happy, when she caught sight of the somewhat solemn face of M. +Boehmer. She smiled on him, which he took for a favorable sign, and +asked for an audience, which was promised him for two o'clock. On his +return to Bossange, they agreed that no doubt the money was all right, +only the queen had been unable to send it the day before. At two o'clock +Boehmer returned to Versailles. + +"What is it now, M. Boehmer?" asked the queen, as he entered. +Boehmer thought some one must be listening, and looked cautiously +around him. + +"Have you any secret to tell?" asked the queen, in surprise. "The same +as before, I suppose--some jewels to sell. But make yourself easy; no +one can hear you." + +"Ahem!" murmured Boehmer, startled at his reception. + +"Well, what?" + +"Then I may speak out to your majesty?" + +"Anything; only be quick." + +"I only wished to say that your majesty probably forgot us yesterday." + +"Forgot you! what do you mean?" + +"Yesterday the sum was due----" + +"What sum?" + +"Pardon me, your majesty, if I am indiscreet. Perhaps your majesty is +not prepared. It would be a misfortune; but still----" + +"But," interrupted the queen, "I do not understand a word of what you +are saying. Pray explain yourself." + +"Yesterday the first payment for the necklace was due." + +"Have you sold it, then?" + +"Certainly, your majesty," replied Boehmer, looking stupefied. + +"And those to whom you have sold it have not paid, my poor Boehmer? So +much the worse; but they must do as I did, and, if they cannot pay, send +it you back again." + +The jeweler staggered like a man who had just had a sunstroke. "I do not +understand your majesty," he said. + +"Why, Boehmer, if ten purchasers were each to send it back, and give +you 100,000 francs, as I did, you would make a million, and keep your +necklace also." + +"Your majesty says," cried Boehmer, ready to drop, "that you sent me +back the necklace!" + +"Certainly. What is the matter?" + +"What! your majesty denies having bought the necklace?" + +"Ah! what comedy is this, sir?" said the queen, severely. "Is this +unlucky necklace destined to turn some one's brain?" + +"But did your majesty really say that you had returned the necklace?" + +"Happily," replied the queen, "I can refresh your memory, as you are so +forgetful, to say nothing more." She went to her secretaire, and, taking +out the receipt, showed it to him, saying, "I suppose this is clear +enough?" + +Boehmer's expression changed from incredulity to terror. "Madame," +cried he, "I never signed this receipt!" + +"You deny it!" said the queen, with flashing eyes. + +"Positively, if I lose my life for it. I never received the necklace; I +never signed the receipt. Were the headsman here, or the gallows, I +would repeat the same thing!" + +"Then, sir," said the queen, "do you think I have robbed you? do you +think I have your necklace?" + +Boehmer drew out a pocket-book, and in his turn produced a letter. "I +do not believe," said he, "that if your majesty had wished to return the +necklace, you would have written this." + +"I write! I never wrote to you; that is not my writing." + +"It is signed," said Boehmer. + +"Yes, 'Marie Antoinette of France.' You are mad! Do you think that is +the way I sign? I am of Austria. Go, M. Boehmer; you have played this +game unskilfully; your forgers have not understood their work." + +"My forgers!" cried the poor Boehmer, ready to faint at this new blow. +"You suspect me?" + +"You accuse me, Marie Antoinette?" replied she. + +"But this letter?" + +"This receipt? Give it me back, and take your letter; the first lawyer +you ask will tell you how much that is worth." And taking the receipt +from his trembling hands, and throwing the letter indignantly down, she +left the room. + +The unfortunate man ran to communicate this dreadful blow to his +partner, who was waiting in the carriage for him; and on their way home +their gestures and cries of grief were so frantic as to attract the +attention of every passer-by. At last they decided to return to +Versailles. + +Immediately they presented themselves they were admitted by the order of +the queen. + + + + +CHAPTER LXXIII. + +"Roi ne puis, prince ne daigne, +Rohan je suis."[B] + +[B] The motto of the Rohans. + + +"Ah!" cried the queen, immediately they entered, "you have brought a +reinforcement, M. Boehmer; so much the better." + +Boehmer kneeled at her feet, and Bossange followed his example. + +"Gentlemen," said she, "I have now grown calm, and an idea has come into +my head which has modified my opinion with regard to you. It seems to me +that we have both been duped." + +"Ah, madame, you suspect me no longer. Forger was a dreadful word." + +"No, I do not suspect you now." + +"Does your majesty suspect any one else?" + +"Reply to my questions. You say you have not these diamonds?" + +"No, madame, we have not." + +"It then matters little to you that I sent them--that is my affair. Did +you not see Madame de la Motte?" + +"Yes, madame." + +"And she gave you nothing from me?" + +"No, madame; she only said to us, 'Wait.'" + +"But this letter--who brought it?" + +"An unknown messenger, during the night." + +She rang, and a servant entered. + +"Send for Madame de la Motte. And," continued the queen to M. Boehmer, +"did you see M. de Rohan?" + +"Yes, madame; he paid us a visit in order to ask." + +"Good!" said the queen. "I wish to hear no more now; but if he be mixed +up with this affair, I think you need not despair. I think I can guess +what Madame de la Motte meant by saying 'Wait.' Meanwhile, go to M. de +Rohan, and tell him all you have told us, and that I know it." + +The jewelers had a renewed spark of hope; only Bossange said that the +receipt was a false one, and that that was a crime. + +"True," replied Marie Antoinette, "if you did not write it, it is a +crime; but to prove this I must confront you with the person whom I +charged to return you the jewels." + +"Whenever your majesty pleases; we do not fear the test." + +"Go first to M. de Rohan; he alone can enlighten you." + +"And will your majesty permit us to bring you his answer?" + +"Yes; but I dare say I shall know all before you do." + +When they were gone she was restless and unquiet, and despatched courier +after courier for Madame de la Motte. + +We will, however, leave her for the present, and follow the jewelers in +their search after the truth. + +The cardinal was at home, reading, with a rage impossible to describe, a +little note which Madame de la Motte had just sent him, as she said, +from Versailles. It was harsh, forbidding any hope, ordering him to +think no more of the past, not to appear again at Versailles, and ending +with an appeal to his loyalty not to attempt to renew relations which +were become impossible. + +"Coquette, capricious, perfidious!" cried he. "Here are four letters +which she has written to me, each more unjust and tyrannical than the +other. She encouraged me only for a caprice, and now sacrifices me to a +new one." + +It was at this moment that the jewelers presented themselves. Three +times he refused them admittance, and each time the servant came back, +saying that they would not go without an audience. "Let them come in, +then," said he. + +"What means this rudeness, gentlemen? No one owes you anything here." + +The jewelers, driven to despair, made a half-menacing gesture. + +"Are you mad?" asked the cardinal. + +"Monseigneur," replied Boehmer, with a sigh, "do us justice, and do +not compel us to be rude to an illustrious prince." + +"Either you are not mad, in which case my servants shall throw you out +of the window; or you are mad, and they shall simply push you out of the +door." + +"Monseigneur, we are not mad, but we have been robbed." + +"What is that to me? I am not lieutenant of police." + +"But you have had the necklace in your hands, and in justice----" + +"The necklace! is it the necklace that is stolen?" + +"Yes, monseigneur." + +"Well, what does the queen say about it?" + +"She sent me to you." + +"She is very amiable; but what can I do, my poor fellows?" + +"You can tell us, monseigneur, what has been done with it." + +"I?" + +"Doubtless." + +"Do you think I stole the necklace from the queen?" + +"It is not the queen from whom it was stolen." + +"Mon Dieu! from whom, then?" + +"The queen denies having had it in her possession." + +"How! she denies it? But I thought you had an acknowledgment from her." + +"She says it is a forged one." + +"Decidedly, you are mad!" cried the cardinal. + +"We simply speak the truth." + +"Then she denied it because some one was there." + +"No, monseigneur. And this is not all: not only does the queen deny her +own acknowledgment, but she produced a receipt from us, purporting that +we had received back the necklace." + +"A receipt from you?" + +"Which also is a forgery, M. le Cardinal--you know it." + +"A forgery, and I know it!" + +"Assuredly, for you came to confirm what Madame de la Motte had said; +and you knew that we had sold the necklace to the queen." + +"Come," said the cardinal, "this seems a serious affair. This is what I +did: first, I bought the necklace of you for her majesty, and paid you +100,000 francs." + +"True, monseigneur." + +"Afterwards you told me that the queen had acknowledged the debt in +writing, and fixed the periods of payment." + +"We said so. Will your eminence look at this signature?" + +He looked at it, and said directly, "'Marie Antoinette of France:' you +have been deceived, gentlemen; this is not her signature; she is of the +House of Austria." + +"Then," cried the jewelers, "Madame de la Motte must know the forger and +the robber." + +The cardinal appeared struck with this. He acted like the queen; he +rang, and said, "Send for Madame de la Motte." His servants went after +Jeanne's carriage, which had not long left the hotel. + +M. Boehmer continued, "But where is the necklace?" + +"How can I tell?" cried the cardinal; "I gave it to the queen. I know no +more." + +"We must have our necklace, or our money," cried the jewelers. + +"Gentlemen, this is not my business." + +"It is Madame de la Motte," cried they in despair, "who has ruined us." + +"I forbid you to accuse her here." + +"Some one must be guilty; some one wrote the forged papers." + +"Was it I?" asked M. de Rohan, haughtily. + +"Monseigneur, we do not wish to say so." + +"Well, who then?" + +"Monseigneur, we desire an explanation." + +"Wait till I have one myself." + +"But, monseigneur, what are we to say to the queen? For she accused us +at first." + +"What does she say now?" + +"She says that either you or Madame de la Motte has the necklace, for +she has not." + +"Well," replied the cardinal, pale with rage and shame, "go and tell +her--no, tell her nothing; there is scandal enough. But to-morrow I +officiate at the chapel at Versailles: when I approach the queen, come +to us; I will ask her again if she has the necklace, and you shall hear +what she replies; if she denies it before me, then, gentlemen, I am a +Rohan, and will pay." And with these words, pronounced with an +indescribable dignity, he dismissed them. + + + + +CHAPTER LXXIV. + +LOVE AND DIPLOMACY. + + +The next morning, about ten o'clock, a carriage bearing the arms of M. +de Breteuil entered Versailles. Our readers will not have forgotten that +this gentleman was a personal enemy of M. de Rohan, and had long been on +the watch for an opportunity of injuring him. He now requested an +audience from the king, and was admitted. + +"It is a beautiful day," said Louis to his minister; "there is not a +cloud in the sky." + +"Sire, I am sorry to bring with me a cloud on your tranquillity." + +"So am I," replied the king, "but what is it?" + +"I feel very much embarrassed, sire, more especially as, perhaps, this +affair naturally concerns the lieutenant of police rather than myself, +for it is a sort of theft." + +"A theft! well, speak out." + +"Sire, your majesty knows the diamond necklace?" + +"M. Boehmer's, which the queen refused?" + +"Precisely, sire," said M. de Breteuil; and ignorant of all the mischief +he was about to do, he continued, "and this necklace has been stolen." + +"Ah! so much the worse. But diamonds are very easy to trace." + +"But, sire, this is not an ordinary theft; it is pretended that the +queen has kept the necklace." + +"Why, she refused it in my presence." + +"Sire, I did not use the right word; the calumnies are too gross." + +"Ah!" said the king with a smile, "I suppose they say now that the queen +has stolen the necklace." + +"Sire," replied M. Breteuil, "they say that the queen recommenced the +negotiation for the purchase privately, and that the jewelers hold a +paper signed by her, acknowledging that she kept it. I need not tell +your majesty how much I despise all such scandalous falsehoods." + +"They say this!" said the king, turning pale. "What do they not say? Had +the queen really bought it afterwards, I should not have blamed her. She +is a woman, and the necklace is marvelously beautiful; and, thank God, +she could still afford it, if she wished for it. I shall only blame her +for one thing, for hiding her wishes from me. But that has nothing to do +with the king, only with the husband. A husband may scold his wife if he +pleases, and no one has a right to interfere. But then," continued he, +"what do you mean by a robbery?" + +"Oh! I fear I have made your majesty angry." + +The king laughed. "Come, tell me all; tell me even that the queen sold +the necklace to the Jews. Poor woman, she is often in want of money, +oftener than I can give it to her." + +"Exactly so; about two months ago the queen asked for 500,000 francs, +and your majesty refused it." + +"True." + +"Well, sire, they say that this money was to have been the first payment +for the necklace. The queen, being denied the money, could not pay----" + +"Well!" + +"Well, sire, they say the queen applied to some one to help her." + +"To a Jew?" + +"No, sire; not to a Jew." + +"Oh! I guess, some foreign intrigue. The queen asked her mother, or some +of her family, for money." + +"It would have been better if she had, sire." + +"Well, to whom, then, did she apply?" + +"Sire, I dare not----" + +"Monsieur, I am tired of this. I order you to speak out at once. Who +lent this money to the queen?" + +"M. de Rohan." + +"M. de Rohan! Are you not ashamed to name to me the most embarrassed man +in my kingdom?" + +"Sire," said M. de Breteuil, lowering his eyes. + +"M. de Breteuil, your manner annoys me. If you have anything to say, +speak at once." + +"Sire, I cannot bring myself to utter things so compromising to the +honor of my king and queen." + +"Speak, sir; if there are calumnies, they must be refuted." + +"Then, sire, M. de Rohan went to the jewelers, and arranged for the +purchase of the necklace, and the mode of payment." + +"Really!" cried the king, annoyed and angry. + +"It is a fact, sire, capable of being proved with the greatest +certainty. I pledge my word for this." + +"This is most annoying," said the king; "but still, sir, we have not +heard of a theft." + +"Sire, the jewelers say that they have a receipt signed by the queen, +and she denies having the necklace." + +"Ah!" cried the king, with renewed hope; "she denies it, you see, M. de +Breteuil." + +"Oh, sire! I never doubted her majesty's innocence. I am indeed +unfortunate, if your majesty does not see all my respect for the purest +of women." + +"Then you only accuse M. de Rohan?" + +"Yes, sire. And appearances demand some inquiry into his conduct. The +queen says she has not the necklace--the jewelers say they sold it to +her. It is not to be found, and the word 'theft' is used as connected +both with the queen and M. de Rohan." + +"You are right, M. de Breteuil; this affair must be cleared up. But who +is that passing below? Is it not M. de Rohan going to the chapel?" + +"Not yet, sire; he does not come till eleven o'clock, and he will be +dressed in his robes, for he officiates to-day." + +"Then I will send for him and speak to him." + +"Permit me to advise your majesty to speak first to the queen." + +"Yes, she will tell me the truth." + +"Doubtless, sire." + +"But first tell me all you know about it." + +M. de Breteuil, with ingenious hate, mentioned every particular which he +thought could injure M. de Rohan. They were interrupted by an officer, +who approached the king, and said, "Sire, the queen begs you will come +to her." + +"What is it?" asked the king, turning pale. "Wait here, M. de Breteuil." + + + + +CHAPTER LXXV. + +CHARNY, CARDINAL, AND QUEEN. + + +At the same moment as M. de Breteuil asked for an audience of the king, +M. de Charny, pale and agitated, begged one of the queen. He was +admitted, and touching tremblingly the hand she held out to him, said in +an agitated voice, "Oh! madame, what a misfortune!" + +"What is the matter?" + +"Do you know what I have just heard? What the king has perhaps already +heard, or will hear to-morrow." + +She trembled, for she thought of her night with Charny, and fancied they +had been seen. "Speak," said she; "I am strong." + +"They say, madame, that you bought a necklace from M. Boehmer." + +"I returned it," said she quickly. + +"But they say that you only pretended to do so, when the king prevented +you from paying for it by refusing you the money, and that you went to +borrow the amount from some one else, who is your lover." + +"And," cried the queen, with her usual impetuous confidence, "you, +monsieur--you let them say that?" + +"Madame, yesterday I went to M. Boehmer's with my uncle, who had +brought some diamonds from the Indies, and wished to have them valued. +There we heard this frightful story now being spread abroad by your +majesty's enemies. Madame, I am in despair; if you bought the necklace, +tell me; if you have not paid, tell me; but do not let me hear that M. +de Rohan paid for you." + +"M. de Rohan!" + +"Yes, M. de Rohan, whom they call your lover--whom they say lent the +money--and whom an unhappy man, called Charny, saw in the park in +Versailles, kneeling before the queen, and kissing her hand." + +"Monsieur," cried Marie Antoinette, "if you believe these things when +you leave me, you do not love me." + +"Oh!" cried the young man, "the danger presses. I come to beg you to do +me a favor." + +"What danger?" + +"Oh, madame! the cardinal paying for the queen dishonors her. I do not +speak now of the grief such a confidence in him causes to me. No; of +these things one dies, but does not complain." + +"You are mad!" cried Marie Antoinette, in anger. + +"I am not mad, madame, but you are unhappy and lost. I saw you in the +park--I told you so--I was not deceived. To-day all the horrible truth +has burst out. M. de Rohan boasts, perhaps----" + +The queen seized his arm. "You are mad," repeated she, with +inexpressible anguish. "Believe anything--believe the impossible--but, +in the name of heaven, after all I have said to you, do not believe me +guilty. I, who never even thought of you without praying to God to +pardon me for my fault. Oh, M. de Charny! if you do not wish to kill me, +do not tell me that you think me guilty." + +Charny wrung his hands with anguish. "Listen," said he, "if you wish me +to serve you efficaciously." + +"A service from you?--from you, more cruel than my enemies? A service +from a man who despises me? Never, sir--never." + +Charny approached, and took her hands in his. "This evening it will be +too late. Save me from despair, by saving yourself from shame." + +"Monsieur!" + +"Oh, I cannot pick my words with death, before me! If you do not listen +to me, we shall both die; you from shame, and I from grief. You want +money to pay for this necklace." + +"I?" + +"Do not deny it." + +"I tell you----" + +"Do not tell me that you have not the necklace." + +"I swear!" + +"Do not swear, if you wish me to love you. There remains one way to save +at once your honor and my love. The necklace is worth 1,600,000 +francs--you have paid 100,000. Here is the remainder; take it, and pay." + +"You have sold your possessions--you have ruined yourself for me! Good +and noble heart, I love you!" + +"Then you accept?" + +"No; but I love you." + +"And let M. de Rohan pay. Remember, madame, this would be no generosity +towards me, but the refinement of cruelty." + +"M. de Charny, I am a queen. I give to my subjects, but do not accept +from them." + +"What do you mean to do, then?" + +"You are frank. What do the jewelers say?" + +"That as you cannot pay, M. de Rohan will pay for you." + +"What does the public say?" + +"That you have the necklace hidden, and will produce it when it shall +have been paid for; either by the cardinal, in his love for you, or by +the king, to prevent scandal." + +"And you, Charny; in your turn, I ask, what do you say?" + +"I think, madame, that you have need to prove your innocence to me." + +The Prince Louis, Cardinal de Rohan, was at that moment announced by an +usher. + +"You shall have your wish," said the queen. + +"You are going to receive him?" + +"Yes." + +"And I?" + +"Go into my boudoir, and leave the door ajar, that you may hear. Be +quick--here he is." + +M. de Rohan appeared in his robes of office. The queen advanced towards +him, attempting a smile, which died away on her lips. + +He was serious, and said, "Madame, I have several important things to +communicate to you, although you shun my presence." + +"I shun you so little, monsieur, that I was about to send for you." + +"Am I alone with your majesty?" said he, in a low voice. "May I speak +freely?" + +"Perfectly, monseigneur. Do not constrain yourself," said she aloud, for +M. de. Charny to hear. + +"The king will not come?" + +"Have no fear of the king, or any one else." + +"Oh, it is yourself I fear," said he, in a moved voice. + +"Well, I am not formidable. Say quickly and openly what you have to say. +I like frankness, and want no reserve. They say you complain of me; what +have you to reproach me with?" + +The cardinal sighed. + + + + +CHAPTER LXXVI. + +EXPLANATIONS. + + +"Madame," said the cardinal, bowing, "you know what is passing +concerning the necklace?" + +"No, monsieur; I wish to learn it from you." + +"Why has your majesty for so long only deigned to communicate with me +through another? If you have any reason to hate me, why not explain it?" + +"I do not know what you mean. I do not hate you; but that is not, I +think, the subject of our interview. I wish to hear all about this +unlucky necklace; but first, where is Madame de la Motte?" + +"I was about to ask your majesty the same question." + +"Really, monsieur, if any one knows, I think it ought to be you." + +"I, madame! why?" + +"Oh! I do not wish to receive your confessions about her, but I wish to +speak to her, and have sent for her ten times without receiving any +answer." + +"And I, madame, am astonished at her disappearance, for I also sent to +ask her to come, and, like your majesty, received no answer." + +"Then let us leave her, monsieur, and speak of ourselves." + +"Oh no, madame; let us speak of her first, for a few words of your +majesty's gave me a painful suspicion; it seemed to me that your majesty +reproached me with my assiduities to her." + +"I have not reproached you at all, sir." + +"Oh! madame, such a suspicion would explain all to me; then I should +understand all your rigor towards me, which I have hitherto found so +inexplicable." + +"Here we cease to understand each other, and I beg of you not to still +further involve in obscurity what I wished you to explain to me." + +"Madame," cried the cardinal, clasping his hands, "I entreat you not to +change the subject; allow me only two words more, and I am sure we shall +understand each other." + +"Really, sir, you speak in language that I do not understand. Pray +return to plain French; where is the necklace that I returned to the +jewelers?" + +"The necklace that you sent back?" + +"Yes; what have you done with it?" + +"I! I do not know, madame." + +"Listen, and one thing is simple; Madame de la Motte took away the +necklace, and returned it to the jewelers in my name. The jewelers say +they never had it, and I hold in my hands a receipt which proves the +contrary; but they say the receipt is forged; Madame de la Motte, if +sincere, could explain all, but as she is not to be found, I can but +conjecture. She wished to return it, but you, who had always the +generous wish to present me the necklace, you, who brought it to me, +with the offer to pay for it----" + +"Which your majesty refused." + +"Yes. Well, you have persevered in your idea, and you kept back the +necklace, hoping to return it to me at some other time. Madame de la +Motte was weak; she knew my inability to pay for it, and my +determination not to keep it when I could not pay; she therefore entered +into a conspiracy with you. Have I guessed right? Say yes. Let me +believe in this slight disobedience to my orders, and I promise you both +pardon; so let Madame de la Motte come out from her hiding-place. But, +for pity's sake, let there be perfect clearness and openness, monsieur. +A cloud rests over me; I will have it dispersed." + +"Madame," replied the cardinal, with a sigh, "unfortunately it is not +true. I did not persevere in my idea, for I believed the necklace was in +your own hands; I never conspired with Madame de la Motte about it, and +I have it no more than you say you or the jewelers have it." + +"Impossible! you have not got it?" + +"No, madame." + +"Is it not you who hide it?" + +"No, madame." + +"You do not know what has become of it?" + +"No, madame." + +"But, then, how do you explain its disappearance?" + +"I do not pretend to explain it, madame; and, moreover, it is not the +first time that I have had to complain that your majesty did not +understand me." + +"How, sir?" + +"Pray, madame, have the goodness to retrace my letters in your memory." + +"Your letters!--you have written to me?" + +"Too seldom, madame, to express all that was in my heart." + +The queen rose. + +"Terminate this jesting, sir. What do you mean by letters? How can you +dare to say such things?" + +"Ah! madame, perhaps I have allowed myself to speak too freely the +secret of my soul." + +"What secret? Are you in your senses, monsieur?" + +"Madame!" + +"Oh! speak out. You speak now like a man who wishes to embarrass one +before witnesses." + +"Madame, is there really any one listening to us?" + +"No, monsieur. Explain yourself, and prove to me, if you can, that you +are in your right senses." + +"Oh! why is not Madame de la Motte here? she could aid me to reawaken, +if not your majesty's attachment, at least your memory." + +"My attachment! my memory!" + +"Ah, madame," cried he, growing excited, "spare me, I beg. It is free to +you to love no longer, but do not insult me." + +"Ah, mon Dieu!" cried the queen, turning pale: "hear what this man +says." + +"Well, madame," said he, getting still more excited, "I think I have +been sufficiently discreet and reserved not to be ill-treated. But I +should have known that when a queen says, 'I will not any longer,' it is +as imperious as when a woman says, 'I will.'" + +"But, sir, to whom, or when, have I said either the one or the other?" + +"Both, to me." + +"To you! You are a liar, M. de Rohan. A coward, for you calumniate a +woman; and a traitor, for you insult the queen." + +"And you are a heartless woman and a faithless queen. You led me to feel +for you the most ardent love. You let me drink my fill of hopes----" + +"Of hopes! My God! am I mad, or what is he?" + +"Should I have dared to ask you for the midnight interviews which you +granted me?" + +The queen uttered a cry of rage, as she fancied she heard a sigh from +the boudoir. + +"Should I," continued M. de Rohan, "have dared to come into the park if +you had not sent Madame de la Motte for me?" + +"Mon Dieu!" + +"Should I have dared to steal the key? Should I have ventured to ask for +this rose, which since then I have worn here on my heart, and burned up +with my kisses? Should I have dared to kiss your hands? And, above all, +should I have dared even to dream of sweet but perfidious love." + +"Monsieur!" cried she, "you blaspheme." + +"Mon Dieu!" exclaimed the cardinal, "heaven knows that to be loved by +this deceitful woman I would have given my all, my liberty, my life." + +"M. de Rohan, if you wish to preserve either, you will confess +immediately that you invented all these horrors; that you did not come +to the park at night." + +"I did come," he replied. + +"You are a dead man if you maintain this." + +"A Rohan cannot lie, madame; I did come." + +"M. de Rohan, in heaven's name say that you did not see me there." + +"I will die if you wish it, and as you threaten me; but I did come to +the park at Versailles, where Madame de la Motte brought me." + +"Once more, confess it is a horrible plot against me." + +"No." + +"Then believe that you were mistaken--deceived--that it was all a +fancy." + +"No." + +"Then we will have recourse," said she, solemnly, "to the justice of the +king." + +The cardinal bowed. + +The queen rang violently. "Tell his majesty that I desire his presence." + +The cardinal remained firm. Marie Antoinette went ten times to the door +of the boudoir, and each time returned without going in. + +At last the king appeared. + + + + +CHAPTER LXXVII. + +THE ARREST. + + +"Sire," cried the queen, "here is M. de Rohan, who says incredible +things, which I wish him to repeat to you." + +At these unexpected words the cardinal turned pale. Indeed, it was a +strange position to hear himself called upon to repeat to the king and +the husband all the claims which he believed he had over the queen and +the wife. + +But the king, turning towards him, said, "About a certain necklace, is +it not, sir?" + +M. de Rohan took advantage of the king's question, and chose the least +of two evils. "Yes, sire," he murmured, "about the necklace." + +"Then, sir, you have brought the necklace?" + +"Sire----" + +"Yes, or no, sir." + +The cardinal looked at the queen, and did not reply. + +"The truth, sir," said the queen, answering his look. "We want nothing +but the truth." + +M. de Rohan turned away his head, and did not speak. + +"If M. de Rohan will not reply, will you, madame, explain?" said the +king. "You must know something about it; did you buy it?" + +"No." + +M. de Rohan smiled rather contemptuously. + +"You say nothing, sir," said the king. + +"Of what am I accused, sire?" + +"The jewelers say they sold the necklace either to you or the queen. +They show a receipt from her majesty----" + +"A forged one," interrupted the queen. + +"The jewelers," continued the king, "say that in case the queen does not +pay, you are bound to do so by your engagements." + +"I do not refuse to pay, sire. It must be the truth, as the queen +permits it to be said." And a second look, still more contemptuous than +the first, accompanied this speech. + +The queen trembled, for she began to think his behavior like the +indignation of an honest man. + +"Well, M. le Cardinal, some one has imitated the signature of the Queen +of France," said the king. + +"The queen, sire, is free to attribute to me whatever crimes she +pleases." + +"Sir," said the king, "instead of justifying yourself, you assume the +air of an accuser." + +The cardinal paused a moment, and then cried, "Justify +myself?--impossible!" + +"Monsieur, these people say that this necklace has been stolen under a +promise to pay for it; do you confess the crime?" + +"Who would believe it, if I did?" asked the cardinal, with a haughty +disdain. + +"Then, sir, you think they will believe----" + +"Sire, I know nothing of what is said," interrupted the cardinal; "all +that I can affirm is, that I have not the necklace; some one has it who +will not produce it; and I can but say, let the shame of the crime fall +on the person who knows himself guilty." + +"The question, madame, is between you two," said the king. "Once more, +have you the necklace?" + +"No, by the honor of my mother, by the life of my son." + +The king joyfully turned towards the cardinal. "Then, sir, the affair +lies between you and justice, unless you prefer trusting to my +clemency." + +"The clemency of kings is for the guilty, sire; I prefer the justice of +men!" + +"You will confess nothing?" + +"I have nothing to say." + +"But, sir, your silence compromises my honor," cried the queen. + +The cardinal did not speak. + +"Well, then, I will speak," cried she. "Learn, sire, that M. de Rohan's +chief crime is not the theft of this necklace." + +M. de Rohan turned pale. + +"What do you mean?" cried the king. + +"Madame!" murmured the cardinal. + +"Oh! no reasons, no fear, no weakness shall close my mouth. I would +proclaim my innocence in public if necessary." + +"Your innocence," said the king. "Oh, madame, who would be rash enough, +or base enough, to compel you to defend that?" + +"I beg you, madame," said the cardinal. + +"Ah! you begin to tremble. I was right: such plots bear not the light. +Sire, will you order M. de Rohan to repeat to you what he has just said +to me." + +"Madame," cried the cardinal, "take care; you pass all bounds." + +"Sir," said the king, "do you dare to speak thus to the queen?" + +"Yes, sire," said Marie Antoinette; "this is the way he speaks to me, +and pretends he has the right to do so." + +"You, sir!" cried the king, livid with rage. + +"Oh! he says he has letters----" + +"Let us see them, sir," said the king. + +"Yes, produce them," cried the queen. + +The cardinal passed his hands over his burning eyes, and asked himself +how heaven could ever have created a being so perfidious and so +audacious; but he remained silent. + +"But that is not all," continued the queen, getting more and more +excited: "M. le Cardinal says he has obtained interviews----" + +"Madame, for pity's sake," cried the king. + +"For modesty's sake," murmured the cardinal. + +"One word, sir. If you are not the basest of men; if you hold anything +sacred in this world; if you have proofs, produce them." + +"No, madame," replied he, at length, "I have not." + +"You said you had a witness." + +"Who?" asked the king. + +"Madame de la Motte." + +"Ah!" cried the king, whose suspicions against her were easily excited; +"let us see this woman." + +"Yes," said the queen, "but she has disappeared. Ask monsieur what he +has done with her." + +"Others have made her disappear who had more interest in doing so than I +had." + +"But, sir, if you are innocent, help us to find the guilty." + +The cardinal crossed his hands and turned his back. + +"Monsieur," cried the king, "you shall go to the Bastile." + +"As I am, sire, in my robes? Consider, sire, the scandal will commence, +and will fall heavily on whomsoever it rests." + +"I wish it to do so, sir." + +"It is an injustice, sire." + +"It shall be so." And the king looked round for some one to execute his +orders. M. de Breteuil was near, anticipating the fall of his rival; the +king spoke to him, and he cried immediately, "Guards! arrest M. le +Cardinal de Rohan." + +The cardinal passed by the queen without saluting her; then, bowing to +the king, went towards the lieutenant of the guards, who approached +timidly, seeming to wait for a confirmation of the order he had +received. + +"Yes, sir," said M. de Rohan, "it is I whom you are to arrest." + +"Conduct monsieur to his apartment until I have written the order;" said +the king. + +When they were alone, the king said, "Madame, you know this must lead to +a public trial, and that scandal will fall heavily on the heads of the +guilty." + +"I thank you, sire; you have taken the only method of justifying me." + +"You thank me." + +"With all my heart; believe me, you have acted like a king, and I as a +queen." + +"Good," replied the king, joyfully; "we shall find out the truth at +last, and when once we have crushed the serpent, I hope we may live in +more tranquillity." He kissed the queen, and left her. + +"Monsieur," said the cardinal to the officer who conducted him, "can I +send word home that I have been arrested?" + +"If no one sees, monseigneur." + +The cardinal wrote some words on a page of his missal, then tore it out, +and let it fall at the feet of the officer. + +"She ruins me," murmured the cardinal; "but I will save her, for your +sake, oh! my king, and because it is my duty to forgive." + + + + +CHAPTER LXXVIII. + +THE PROCES-VERBAL. + + +When the king reentered his room he signed the order to consign M. de +Rohan to the Bastile. The Count de Provence soon came in and began +making a series of signs to M. de Breteuil, who, however willing, could +not understand their meaning. This, however, the count did not care for, +as his sole object was to attract the king's attention. He at last +succeeded, and the king, after dismissing M. de Breteuil, said to him, +"What was the meaning of all those signs you were making just now? I +suppose they meant something." + +"Undoubtedly, but----" + +"Oh, you are quite free to say or not." + +"Sire, I have just heard of the arrest of M. de Rohan." + +"Well, and what then? Am I wrong to do justice even on him?" + +"Oh no, brother; I did not mean that." + +"I should have been surprised had you not taken part somehow against the +queen. I have just seen her, and am quite satisfied." + +"Oh, sire, God forbid that I should accuse her! The queen has no friend +more devoted than myself." + +"Then you approve of my proceedings? which will, I trust, terminate all +the scandals which have lately disgraced our court." + +"Yes, sire, I entirely approve your majesty's conduct, and I think all +is for the best as regards the necklace----" + +"Pardieu, it is clear enough. M. de Rohan has been making himself great +on a pretended familiarity with the queen; and conducting in her name a +bargain for the diamonds, and leaving it to be supposed that she had +them. It is monstrous. And then these tales never stop at the truth, but +add all sorts of dreadful details which would end in a frightful scandal +on the queen." + +"Yes, brother, I repeat as far as the necklace is concerned you were +perfectly right." + +"What else is there, then?" + +"Sire, you embarrass me. The queen has not, then, told you?" + +"Oh, the other boastings of M. de Rohan? The pretended correspondence +and interviews he speaks of? All that I know is, that I have the most +absolute confidence in the queen, which she merits by the nobleness of +her character. It was easy for her to have told me nothing of all this; +but she always makes an immediate appeal to me in all difficulties, and +confides to me the care of her honor. I am her confessor and her +judge." + +"Sire, you make me afraid to speak, lest I should be again accused of +want of friendship for the queen. But it is right that all should be +spoken, that she may justify herself from the other accusations." + +"Well, what have you to say?" + +"Let me first hear what she told you?" + +"She said she had not the necklace; that she never signed the receipt +for the jewels; that she never authorized M. de Rohan to buy them; that +she had never given him the right to think himself more to her than any +other of her subjects; and that she was perfectly indifferent to him." + +"Ah! she said that----?" + +"Most decidedly." + +"Then these rumors about other people----" + +"What others?" + +"Why, if it were not M. de Rohan, who walked with the queen----" + +"How! do they say he walked with her?" + +"The queen denies it, you say? but how came she to be in the park at +night, and with whom did she walk?" + +"The queen in the park at night!" + +"Doubtless, there are always eyes ready to watch every movement of a +queen." + +"Brother, these are infamous things that you repeat, take care." + +"Sire, I openly repeat them, that your majesty may search out the +truth." + +"And they say that the queen walked at night in the park?" + +"Yes, sire, tete-a-tete." + +"I do not believe any one says it." + +"Unfortunately I can prove it but too well. There are four witnesses: +one is the captain of the hunt, who says he saw the queen go out two +following nights by the door near the kennel of the wolf-hounds; here is +his declaration signed." + +The king, trembling, took the paper. + +"The next is the night watchman at Trianon, who says he saw the queen +walking arm in arm with a gentleman. The third is the porter of the west +door, who also saw the queen going through the little gate; he states +how she was dressed, but that he could not recognize the gentleman, but +thought he looked like an officer; he says he could not be mistaken, for +that the queen was accompanied by her friend, Madame de la Motte." + +"Her friend!" cried the king, furiously. + +"The last is from the man whose duty it is to see that all the doors are +locked at night. He says that he saw the queen go into the baths of +Apollo with a gentleman." + +The king, pale with anger and emotion, snatched the paper from the hands +of his brother. + +"It is true," continued the count, "that Madame de la Motte was outside, +and that the queen did not remain more than an hour." + +"The name of the gentleman?" cried the king. + +"This report does not name him; but here is one dated the next day, by a +forester, who says it was M. de Charny." + +"M. de Charny!" cried the king. "Wait here; I will soon learn the truth +of all this." + + + + +CHAPTER LXXIX. + +THE LAST ACCUSATION. + + +As soon as the king left the room, the queen ran towards the boudoir, +and opened the door; then, as if her strength failed her, sank down on a +chair, waiting for the decision of M. de Charny, her last and most +formidable judge. + +He came out more sad and pale than ever. + +"Well?" said she. + +"Madame," replied he, "you see, everything opposes our friendship. There +can be no peace for me while such scandalous reports circulate in +public, putting my private convictions aside." + +"Then," said the queen, "all I have done, this perilous aggression, this +public defiance of one of the greatest nobles in the kingdom, and my +conduct being exposed to the test of public opinion, does not satisfy +you?" + +"Oh!" cried Charny, "you are noble and generous, I know----" + +"But you believe me guilty--you believe the cardinal. I command you to +tell me what you think." + +"I must say, then, madame, that he is neither mad nor wicked, as you +called him, but a man thoroughly convinced of the truth of what he +said--a man who loves you, and the victim of an error which will bring +him to ruin, and you----" + +"Well?" + +"To dishonor." + +"Mon Dieu!" + +"This odious woman, this Madame de la Motte, disappearing just when her +testimony might have restored you to repose and honor--she is the evil +genius, the curse, of your reign; she whom you have, unfortunately, +admitted to partake of your intimacy and your secrets." + +"Oh, sir!" + +"Yes, madame, it is clear that you combined with her and the cardinal to +buy this necklace. Pardon if I offend you." + +"Stay, sir," replied the queen, with a pride not unmixed with anger; +"what the king believes, others might believe, and my friends not be +harder than my husband. It seems to me that it can give no pleasure to +any man to see a woman whom he does not esteem. I do not speak of you, +sir; to you I am not a woman, but a queen; as you are to me, not a man, +but a subject. I had advised you to remain in the country, and it was +wise; far from the court, you might have judged me more truly. Too ready +to condescend, I have neglected to keep up, with those whom I thought +loved me, the prestige of royalty. I should have been a queen, and +content to govern, and not have wished to be loved." + +"I cannot express," replied Charny, "how much your severity wounds me. I +may have forgotten that you were a queen, but never that you were the +woman most in the world worthy of my respect and love." + +"Sir, I think your absence is necessary; something tells me that it will +end by your name being mixed up in all this." + +"Impossible, madame!" + +"You say 'impossible'; reflect on the power of those who have for so +long played with my reputation. You say that M. de Rohan is convinced of +what he asserts; those who cause such convictions would not be long in +proving you a disloyal subject to the king, and a disgraceful friend for +me. Those who invent so easily what is false will not be long in +discovering the truth. Lose no time, therefore; the peril is great. +Retire, and fly from the scandal which will ensue from the approaching +trial; I do not wish that my destiny should involve yours, or your +future be ruined. I, who am, thank God, innocent, and without a stain on +my life--I, who would lay bare my heart to my enemies, could they thus +read its purity, will resist to the last. For you might come ruin, +defamation, and perhaps imprisonment. Take away the money you so nobly +offered me, and the assurance that not one movement of your generous +heart has escaped me, and that your doubts, though they have wounded, +have not estranged me. Go, I say, and seek elsewhere what the Queen of +France can no longer give you--hope and happiness. From this time to the +convocation of Parliament, and the production of witnesses must be a +fortnight; your uncle has vessels ready to sail--go and leave me; I +bring misfortunes on my friends." Saying this, the queen rose, and +seemed to give Charny his conge. + +He approached quickly, but respectfully. "Your majesty," cried he, in a +moved voice, "shows me my duty. It is here that danger awaits you, here +that you are to be judged, and, that you may have one loyal witness on +your side, I remain here. Perhaps we may still make your enemies tremble +before the majesty of an innocent queen, and the courage of a devoted +man. And if you wish it, madame, I will be equally hidden and unseen as +though I went. During a fortnight that I lived within a hundred yards of +you, watching your every movement, counting your steps, living in your +life, no one saw me; I can do so again, if it please you." + +"As you please," replied she; "I am no coquette, M. de Charny, and to +say what I please is the true privilege of a queen. One day, sir, I +chose you from every one. I do not know what drew my heart towards you, +but I had need of a strong and pure friendship, and I allowed you to +perceive that need; but now I see that your soul does not respond to +mine, and I tell you so frankly." + +"Oh, madame," cried Charny, "I cannot let you take away your heart from +me! If you have once given it to me, I will keep it with my life; I +cannot lose you. You reproached me with my doubts--oh, do not doubt me!" + +"Ah," said she, "but you are weak, and I, alas, am so also." + +"You are all I love you to be." + +"What!" cried she, passionately, "this abused queen, this woman about to +be publicly judged, that the world condemns, and that her king and +husband may, perhaps, also in turn condemn, has she found one heart to +love her?" + +"A slave, who venerates her, and offers her his heart's blood in +exchange for every pang he has caused her!" + +"Then," cried she, "this woman is blessed and happy, and complains of +nothing!" + +Charny fell at her feet, and kissed her hands in transport. At that +moment the door opened, and the king surprised, at the feet of his wife, +the man whom he had just heard accused by the Comte de Provence. + + + + +CHAPTER LXXX. + +THE PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE. + + +The queen and Charny exchanged a look so full of terror, that their most +cruel enemy must have pitied them. + +Charny rose slowly, and bowed to the king, whose heart might almost have +been seen to beat. + +"Ah!" cried he, in a hoarse voice, "M. de Charny!" + +The queen could not speak--she thought she was lost. + +"M. de Charny," repeated the king, "it is little honorable for a +gentleman to be taken in the act of theft." + +"Of theft?" murmured Charny. + +"Yes, sir, to kneel before the wife of another is a theft; and when this +woman is a queen, his crime is called high treason!" + +The count was about to speak, but the queen, ever impatient in her +generosity, forestalled him. + +"Sire," said she, "you seem in the mood for evil suspicions and +unfavorable suppositions, which fall falsely, I warn you; and if respect +chains the count's tongue, I will not hear him wrongfully accused +without defending him." Here she stopped, overcome by emotion, +frightened at the falsehood she was about to tell, and bewildered +because she could not find one to utter. + +But these few words had somewhat softened the king, who replied more +gently, "You will not tell me, madame, that I did not see M. de Charny +kneeling before you, and without your attempting to raise him?" + +"Therefore you might think," replied she, "that he had some favor to ask +me." + +"A favor?" + +"Yes, sire, and one which I could not easily grant, or he would not have +insisted with so much less warmth." + +Charny breathed again, and the king's look became calmer. Marie +Antoinette was searching for something to say, with mingled rage at +being obliged to lie, and grief at not being able to think of anything +probable to say. She half hoped the king would be satisfied, and ask no +more, but he said: + +"Let us hear, madame, what is the favor so warmly solicited, which made +M. de Charny kneel before you; I may, perhaps, more happy than you, be +able to grant it." + +She hesitated; to lie before the man she loved was agony to her, and she +would have given the world for Charny to find the answer. But of this he +was incapable. + +"Sire, I told you that M. de Charny asked an impossible thing." + +"What is it?" + +"What can one ask on one's knees?" + +"I want to hear." + +"Sire, it is a family secret." + +"There are no secrets from the king--a father interested in all his +subjects, who are his children, although, like unnatural children, they +may sometimes attack the honor and safety of their father." + +This speech made the queen tremble anew. + +"M. de Charny asked," replied she, "permission to marry." + +"Really," cried the king, reassured for a moment. Then, after a pause, +he said, "But why should it be impossible for M. de Charny to marry? Is +he not noble? Has he not a good fortune? Is he not brave and handsome? +Really, to refuse him, the lady ought to be a princess, or already +married. I can see no other reason for an impossibility. Therefore, +madame, tell me the name of the lady who is loved by M. de Charny, and +let me see if I cannot remove the difficulty." + +The queen, forced to continue her falsehood, replied: + +"No, sire; there are difficulties which even you cannot remove, and the +present one is of this nature." + +"Still, I wish to hear," replied the king, his anger returning. + +Charny looked at the queen--she seemed ready to faint. He made a step +towards her and then drew back. How dared he approach her in the king's +presence? + +"Oh!" thought she, "for an idea--something that the king can neither +doubt nor disbelieve." Then suddenly a thought struck her. She who has +dedicated herself to heaven the king cannot influence. "Sire!" she +cried, "she whom M. de Charny wishes to marry is in a convent." + +"Oh! that is a difficulty; no doubt. But this seems a very sudden love +of M. de Charny's. I have never heard of it from any one. Who is the +lady you love, M. de Charny?" + +The queen felt in despair, not knowing what he would say, and dreading +to hear him name any one. But Charny could not reply: so, after a +pause, she cried, "Sire, you know her; it is Andree de Taverney." + +Charny buried his face in his hands; the queen pressed her hand to her +heart, and could hardly support herself. + +"Mademoiselle de Taverney? but she has gone to St. Denis." + +"Yes, sire," replied the queen. + +"But she has taken no vows." + +"No, but she is about to do so." + +"We will see if we can persuade her. Why should she take the vows?" + +"She is poor," said the queen. + +"That I can soon alter, madame, if M. de Charny loves her." + +The queen shuddered, and cast a glance at the young man, as if begging +him to deny it. He did not speak. + +"And I dare say," continued the king, taking his silence for consent, +"that Mademoiselle de Taverney loves M. de Charny. I will give her as +dowry the 500,000 francs which I refused the other day to you. Thank the +queen, M. de Charny, for telling me of this, and ensuring your +happiness." + +Charny bowed like a pale statue which had received an instant's life. + +"Oh, it is worth kneeling again for!" said the king. + +The queen trembled, and stretched out her hand to the young man, who +left on it a burning kiss. + +"Now," said the king, "come with me." + +M. de Charny turned once, to read the anguish in the eyes of the queen. + + + + +CHAPTER LXXXI. + +ST. DENIS. + + +The queen remained alone and despairing. So many blows had struck her +that she hardly knew from which she suffered most. How she longed to +retract the words she had spoken, to take from Andree even the chance +of the happiness which she still hoped she would refuse; but if she +refused, would not the king's suspicions reawaken, and everything seem +only the worse for this falsehood? She dared not risk this--she must go +to Andree and confess, and implore her to make this sacrifice; or if she +would only temporize, the king's suspicions might pass away, and he +might cease to interest himself about it. Thus the liberty of Mlle. de +Taverney would not be sacrificed, neither would that of M. de Charny; +and she would be spared the remorse of having sacrificed the happiness +of two people to her honor. She longed to speak again to Charny, but +feared discovery; and she knew she might rely upon him to ratify +anything she chose to say. Three o'clock arrived--the state dinner and +the presentations; and the queen went through all with a serene and +smiling air. When all was over she changed her dress, got into her +carriage, and, without any guards, and only one companion, drove to St. +Denis, and asked to see Andree. Andree was at that moment kneeling, +dressed in her white peignoir; and praying with fervor. She had quitted +the court voluntarily, and separated herself from all that could feed +her love; but she could not stifle her regrets and bitter feelings. Had +she not seen Charny apparently indifferent towards her, while the queen +occupied all his thoughts? Yet, when she heard that the queen was asking +for her, she felt a thrill of pleasure and delight. She threw a mantle +over her shoulders, and hastened to see her; but on the way she +reproached herself with the pleasure that she felt, endeavoring to think +that the queen and the court had alike ceased to interest her. + +"Come here, Andree," said the queen, with a smile, as she entered. + + + + +CHAPTER LXXXII. + +A DEAD HEART. + + +"Andree," continued the queen, "it looks strange to see you in this +dress; to see an old friend and companion already lost to life, is like +a warning to ourselves from the tomb." + +"Madame, no one has a right to warn or counsel your majesty." + +"That was never my wish," said the queen; "tell me truly, Andree, had +you to complain of me when you were at court?" + +"Your majesty was good enough to ask me that question when I took leave, +and I replied then as now, no, madame." + +"But often," said the queen, "a grief hurts us which is not personal; +have I injured any one belonging to you? Andree, the retreat which you +have chosen is an asylum against evil passions; here God teaches +gentleness, moderation and forgiveness of injuries. I come as a friend, +and ask you to receive me as such." + +Andree felt touched. "Your majesty knows," said she, "that the Taverneys +cannot be your enemies." + +"I understand," replied the queen; "you cannot pardon me for having been +cold to your brother, and, perhaps, he himself accuses me of caprice." + +"My brother is too respectful a subject to accuse the queen," said +Andree, coldly. + +The queen saw that it was useless to try and propitiate Andree on this +subject; so she said only, "Well, at least, I am ever your friend." + +"Your majesty overwhelms me with your goodness." + +"Do not speak thus; cannot the queen have a friend?" + +"I assure you, madame, that I have loved you as much as I shall ever +love any one in this world." She colored as she spoke. + +"You have loved me; then you love me no more? Can a cloister so quickly +extinguish all affection and all remembrance? if so, it is a cursed +place." + +"Do not accuse my heart, madame, it is dead." + +"Your heart dead, Andree? you, so young and beautiful." + +"I repeat to you, madame, nothing in the court, nothing in the world, is +any more to me. Here I live like the herb or the flower, alone for +myself. I entreat you to pardon me; this forgetfulness of the glorious +vanities of the world is no crime. My confessor congratulates me on it +every day." + +"Then you like the convent?" + +"I embrace with pleasure a solitary life." + +"Nothing remains which attracts you back to the world?" + +"Nothing!" + +"Mon dieu!" thought the queen; "shall I fail? If nothing else will +succeed, I must have recourse to entreaties; to beg her to accept M. de +Charny--heavens, how unhappy I am!--Andree," she said, "what you say +takes from me the hope I had conceived." + +"What hope, madame?" + +"Oh! if you are as decided as you appear to be, it is useless to speak." + +"If your majesty would explain----" + +"You never regret what you have done?" + +"Never, madame." + +"Then it is superfluous to speak; and I yet hoped to make you happy." + +"Me?" + +"Yes, you, ingrate; but you know best your inclinations." + +"Still, if your majesty would tell me----" + +"Oh, it is simple; I wished you to return to court." + +"Never!" + +"You refuse me?" + +"Oh, madame, why should you wish me?--sorrowful, poor, despised, avoided +by every one, incapable of inspiring sympathy in either sex! Ah, +madame, and dear mistress, leave me here to become worthy to be accepted +by God, for even He would reject me at present." + +"But," said the queen, "what I was about to propose to you would have +removed all these humiliations of which you complain. A marriage, which +would have made you one of our great ladies." + +"A marriage?" stammered Andree. + +"Yes." + +"Oh, I refuse, I refuse!" + +"Andree!" cried the queen, in a supplicating voice. + +"Ah, no, I refuse!" + +Marie Antoinette prepared herself, with a fearfully-palpitating heart, +for her last resource; but as she hesitated, Andree said, "But, madame, +tell me the name of the man who is willing to think of me as his +companion for life." + +"M. de Charny," said the queen, with an effort. + +"M. de Charny?"---- + +"Yes, the nephew of M. de Suffren." + +"It is he!" cried Andree, with burning cheeks, and sparkling eyes; "he +consents----" + +"He asks you in marriage." + +"Oh, I accept, I accept, for I love him." + +The queen became livid, and sank back trembling, whilst Andree kissed +her hands, bathing them with her tears. "Oh, I am ready," murmured she. + +"Come, then!" cried the queen, who felt as though her strength was +failing her, with a last effort to preserve appearances. + +Andree left the room to prepare. Then Marie Antoinette cried, with +bitter sobs, "Oh, mon Dieu! how can one heart bear so much suffering? +and yet I should be thankful, for does it not save my children and +myself from shame?" + + + + +CHAPTER LXXXIII. + +IN WHICH IT IS EXPLAINED WHY THE BARON DE TAVERNEY GREW FAT. + + +Meanwhile Philippe was hastening the preparations for his departure. He +did not wish to witness the dishonor of the queen, his first and only +passion. When all was ready, he requested an interview with his father. +For the last three months the baron had been growing fat; he seemed to +feed on the scandals circulating at the court--they were meat and drink +to him. When he received his son's message, instead of sending for him, +he went to seek him in his room, already full of the disorder consequent +on packing. Philippe did not expect much sensibility from his father, +still he did not think he would be pleased. Andree had already left him, +and it was one less to torment, and he must feel a blank when his son +went also. Therefore Philippe was astonished to hear his father call +out, with a burst of laughter, "Oh, mon Dieu! he is going away, I was +sure of it, I would have bet upon it. Well played, Philippe, well +played." + +"What is well played, sir?" + +"Admirable!" repeated the old man. + +"You give me praises, sir, which I neither understand nor merit, unless +you are pleased at my departure, and glad to get rid of me." + +"Oh! oh!" laughed the old man again, "I am not your dupe. Do you think I +believe in your departure?" + +"You do not believe? really, sir, you surprise me." + +"Yes, it is surprising that I should have guessed. You are quite right +to pretend to leave; without this ruse all, probably, would have been +discovered." + +"Monsieur, I protest I do not understand one word of what you say to +me." + +"Where do you say you go to?" + +"I go first to Taverney Maison Rouge." + +"Very well, but be prudent. There are sharp eyes on you both, and she is +so fiery and incautious, that you must be prudent for both. What is your +address, in case I want to send you any pressing news?" + +"Taverney, monsieur." + +"Taverney, nonsense! I do not ask you for the address of your house in +the park; but choose some third address near here. You, who have managed +so well for your love, can easily manage this." + +"Sir, you play at enigmas, and I cannot find the solution." + +"Oh, you are discreet beyond all bounds. However, keep your secrets, +tell me nothing of the huntsman's house, nor the nightly walks with two +dear friends, nor the rose, nor the kisses." + +"Monsieur!" cried Philippe, mad with jealousy and rage, "will you hold +your tongue?" + +"Well, I know it all--your intimacy with the queen, and your meetings in +the baths of Apollo. Mon Dieu! our fortunes are assured forever." + +"Monsieur, you cause me horror!" cried poor Philippe, hiding his face in +his hands. And, indeed, he felt it, at hearing attributed to himself all +the happiness of another. All the rumors that the father had heard, he +had assigned to his son, and believed that it was he that the queen +loved, and no one else; hence his perfect contentment and happiness. + +"Yes," he went on, "some said it was Rohan; others, that it was Charny; +not one that it was Taverney. Oh, you have acted well." + +At this moment a carriage was heard to drive up, and a servant entering, +said, "Here is mademoiselle." + +"My sister!" cried Philippe. + +Then another servant appeared, and said that Mademoiselle de Taverney +wished to speak to her brother in the boudoir. Another carriage now came +to the door. + +"Who the devil comes now?" muttered the baron; "it is an evening of +adventures." + +"M. le Comte de Charny," cried the powerful voice of the porter at the +gate. + +"Conduct M. le Comte to the drawing-room; my father will see him; and I +will go to my sister--What can he want here?" thought Philippe, as he +went down. + + + + +CHAPTER LXXXIV. + +THE FATHER AND THE FIANCEE. + + +Philippe hastened to the boudoir, where his sister awaited him. She ran +to embrace him with a joyous air. + +"What is it, Andree?" cried he. + +"Something which makes me happy. Oh! very happy, brother." + +"And you come back to announce it to me." + +"I come back for ever," said Andree. + +"Speak low, sister; there is, or is going to be, some one in the next +room who might hear you." + +"Who?" + +"Listen." + +"M. le Comte de Charny," announced the servant. + +"He! oh, I know well what he comes for." + +"You know!" + +"Yes, and soon I shall be summoned to hear what he has to say." + +"Do you speak seriously, my dear Andree?" + +"Listen, Philippe. The queen has brought me suddenly back, and I must go +and change my dress for one fit for a fiancee." And saying this, with a +kiss to Philippe, she ran off. + +Philippe remained alone. He could hear what passed in the adjoining +room. M. de Taverney entered, and saluted the count with a recherche +though stiff politeness. + +"I come, monsieur," said Charny, "to make a request, and beg you to +excuse my not having brought my uncle with me, which I know would have +been more proper." + +"A request?" + +"I have the honor," continued Charny, in a voice full of emotion, "to +ask the hand of Mademoiselle Andree, your daughter." + +The baron opened his eyes in astonishment--"My daughter?" + +"Yes, M. le Baron, if Mademoiselle de Taverney feels no repugnance." + +"Oh," thought the old man, "Philippe's favor is already so well-known, +that one of his rivals wishes to marry his sister." Then aloud, he said, +"This request is such an honor to us, M. le Comte, that I accede with +much pleasure; and as I should wish you to carry away a perfectly +favorable answer, I will send for my daughter." + +"Monsieur," interrupted the count, rather coldly, "the queen has been +good enough to consult Mademoiselle de Taverney already, and her reply +was favorable." + +"Ah!" said the baron, more and more astonished, "it is the queen +then----" + +"Yes, monsieur, who took the trouble to go to St. Denis." + +"Then, sir, it only remains to acquaint you with my daughter's fortune. +She is not rich, and before concluding----" + +"It is needless, M. le Baron; I am rich enough for both." + +At this moment the door opened, and Philippe entered, pale and wild +looking. + +"Sir," said he, "my father was right to wish to discuss these things +with you. While he goes up-stairs to bring the papers I have something +to say to you." + +When they were left alone, "M. de Charny," said he, "how dare you come +here to ask for the hand of my sister?" Charny colored. "Is it," +continued Philippe, "in order to hide better your amours with another +woman whom you love, and who loves you? Is it, that by becoming the +husband of a woman who is always near your mistress, you will have more +facilities for seeing her?" + +"Sir, you pass all bounds." + +"It is, perhaps; and this is what I believe, that were I your +brother-in-law, you think my tongue would be tied about what I know of +your past amours." + +"What you know?" + +"Yes," cried Philippe, "the huntsman's house hired by you, your +mysterious promenades in the park at night, and the tender parting at +the little gate." + +"Monsieur, in heaven's name----" + +"Oh, sir, I was concealed behind the baths of Apollo when you came out, +arm in arm with the queen." + +Charny was completely overwhelmed for a time; then, after a few moments, +he said, "Well, sir, even after all this, I reiterate my demand for the +hand of your sister. I am not the base calculator you suppose me; but +the queen must be saved." + +"The queen is not lost, because I saw her on your arm, raising to heaven +her eyes full of happiness; because I know that she loves you. That is +no reason why my sister should be sacrificed, M. de Charny." + +"Monsieur," replied Charny, "this morning the king surprised me at her +feet----" + +"Mon Dieu!" + +"And she, pressed by his jealous questions, replied that I was kneeling +to ask the hand of your sister. Therefore if I do not marry her, the +queen is lost. Do you now understand?" + +A cry from the boudoir now interrupted them, followed by another from +the ante-chamber. Charny ran to the boudoir; he saw there Andree, dressed +in white like a bride: she had heard all, and had fainted. Philippe ran +to where the other cry came from; it was his father, whose hopes this +revelation of the queen's love for Charny had just destroyed; struck by +apoplexy, he had given his last sigh. Philippe, who understood it, +looked at the corpse for a few minutes in silence, and then returned to +the drawing-room, and there saw Charny watching the senseless form of +his sister. He then said, "My father has just expired, sir; I am now the +head of the family; if my sister survive, I will give her to you in +marriage." + +Charny regarded the corpse of the baron with horror, and the form of +Andree with despair. Philippe uttered a groan of agony, then continued, +"M. de Charny, I make this engagement in the name of my sister, now +lying senseless before us; she will give her happiness to the queen, and +I, perhaps, some day shall be happy enough to give my life for her. +Adieu, M. de Charny----" and taking his sister in his arms, he carried +her into the next room. + + + + +CHAPTER LXXXV. + +AFTER THE DRAGON, THE VIPER. + + +Oliva was preparing to fly, as Jeanne had arranged, when Beausire, +warned by an anonymous letter, discovered her and carried her away. In +order to trace them, Jeanne put all her powers in requisition--she +preferred being able to watch over her own secret--and her +disappointment was great when all her agents returned announcing a +failure. At this time she received in her hiding-place numerous messages +from the queen. + +She went by night to Bar-sur-Aube, and there remained for two days. At +last she was traced, and an express sent to take her. Then she learnt +the arrest of the cardinal. "The queen has been rash," thought she, "in +refusing to compromise with the cardinal, or to pay the jewelers; but +she did not know my power." + +"Monsieur," said she to the officer who arrested her, "do you love the +queen?" + +"Certainly, madame." + +"Well, in the name of that love I beg you to conduct me straight to her. +Believe me, you will be doing her a service." + +The man was persuaded, and did so. The queen received her haughtily, for +she began to suspect that her conduct had not been straightforward. She +called in two ladies as witnesses of what was about to pass. + +"You are found at last, madame," said the queen; "why did you hide?" + +"I did not hide, madame." + +"Run away, then, if that pleases you better." + +"That is to say, that I quitted Paris. I had some little business at +Bar-sur-Aube, and, to tell the truth, I did not know I was so necessary +to your majesty as to be obliged to ask leave for an absence of eight +days." + +"Have you seen the king?" + +"No, madame." + +"You shall see him." + +"It will be a great honor for me; but your majesty seems very severe +towards me--I am all trembling." + +"Oh, madame, this is but the beginning. Do you know that M. de Rohan has +been arrested?" + +"They told me so, madame." + +"You guess why?" + +"No, madame." + +"You proposed to me that he should pay for a certain necklace; did I +accept or refuse?" + +"Refuse." + +"Ah!" said the queen, well pleased. + +"Your majesty even paid 100,000 francs on account." + +"Well, and afterwards?" + +"Afterwards, as your majesty could not pay, you sent it back to M. +Boehmer." + +"By whom?" + +"By me." + +"And what did you do with it?" + +"I took it to the cardinal." + +"And why to the cardinal instead of to the jewelers, as I told you?" + +"Because I thought he would be hurt if I returned it without letting him +know." + +"But how did you get a receipt from the jewelers?" + +"M. de Rohan gave it to me." + +"But why did you take a letter to them as coming from me?" + +"Because he gave it to me, and asked me to do so." + +"It is, then, all his doing?" + +"What is, madame?" + +"The receipt and the letter are both forged." + +"Forged, madame!" cried Jeanne, with much apparent astonishment. + +"Well, you must be confronted with him to prove the truth." + +"Why, madame?" + +"He himself demands it. He says he has sought you everywhere, and that +he wishes to prove that you have deceived him." + +"Oh! then, madame, let us meet." + +"You shall. You deny all knowledge of where the necklace is?" + +"How should I know, madame?" + +"You deny having aided the cardinal in his intrigues?" + +"I am a Valois, madame." + +"But M. de Rohan maintained before the king many calumnies, which he +said you would confirm." + +"I do not understand." + +"He declares he wrote to me." + +Jeanne did not reply. + +"Do you hear?" said the queen. + +"Yes, madame." + +"What do you reply?" + +"I will reply when I have seen him." + +"But speak the truth now." + +"Your majesty overwhelms me." + +"That is no answer." + +"I will give no other here;" and she looked at the two ladies. The queen +understood, but would not yield; she scorned to purchase anything by +concession. + +"M. de Rohan," said the queen, "was sent to the Bastile for saying too +much; take care, madame, that you are not sent for saying too little." + +Jeanne smiled. "A pure conscience can brave persecution," she replied; +"the Bastile will not convict me of a crime I did not commit." + +"Will you reply?" + +"Only to your majesty." + +"Are you not speaking to me?" + +"Not alone." + +"Ah! you fear scandal, after being the cause of so much to me." + +"What I did," said Jeanne, "was done for you." + +"What insolence!" + +"I submit to the insults of my queen." + +"You will sleep in the Bastile to-night, madame!" + +"So be it; I will first pray to God to preserve your majesty's honor." + +The queen rose furiously, and went into the next room. + +"After having conquered the dragon," she said, "I can crush the viper!" + + + + +CHAPTER LXXXVI. + +HOW IT CAME TO PASS THAT M. BEAUSIRE WAS TRACKED BY THE AGENTS OF M. DE +CROSNE. + + +Madame de la Motte was imprisoned as the queen had threatened, and the +whole affair created no little talk and excitement through France. M. de +Rohan lived at the Bastile like a prince: he had everything but liberty. +He demanded to be confronted with Madame de la Motte as soon as he heard +of her arrest. This was done. She whispered to him, "Send every one +away, and I will explain." He asked this, but was refused; they said his +counsel might communicate with her. She said to this gentleman that she +was ignorant of what had become of the necklace, but that they might +well have given it to her in recompense for the services she had +rendered the queen and the cardinal, which were well worth a million and +a half. The cardinal turned pale on hearing this repeated, and felt how +much they were in Jeanne's power. He was determined not to accuse the +queen, although his friends endeavored to convince him that it was his +only way to prove his innocence of the robbery. Jeanne said that she +did not wish to accuse either the queen or the cardinal, but that, if +they persisted in making her responsible for the necklace, she would do +so to show that they were interested in accusing her of falsehood. Then +M. de Rohan expressed all his contempt for her, and said that he began +to understand much of Jeanne's conduct, but not the queen's. All this +was reported to Marie Antoinette. She ordered another private +examination of the parties, but gained nothing from it. Jeanne denied +everything to those sent by the queen; but when they were gone she +altered her tone, and said, "If they do not leave me alone I will tell +all." The cardinal said nothing, and brought no accusations; but rumors +began to spread fast, and the question soon became, not "Has the queen +stolen the necklace?" but "Has she allowed some one else to steal it +because she knew all about her amours?" Madame de la Motte had involved +her in a maze, from which there seemed no honorable exit; but she +determined not to lose courage. She began to come to the conclusion that +the cardinal was an honest man, and did not wish to ruin her, but was +acting like herself, only to preserve his honor. They strove earnestly +but ineffectually to trace the necklace. All opinions were against +Jeanne, and she began to fear that, even if she dragged down the queen +and cardinal, she should be quite overwhelmed under the ruins she had +caused; and she had not even at hand the fruits of her dishonesty to +corrupt her judges with. Affairs were in this state when a new episode +changed the face of things. Oliva and M. Beausire were living, happy and +rich, in a country house, when one day Beausire, going out hunting, fell +into the company of two of the agents of M. de Crosne, whom he had +scattered all over the country. They recognized Beausire immediately, +but, as it was Oliva whom they most wanted, they did not arrest him +there, but only joined the chase. Beausire, seeing two strangers, called +the huntsman, and asked who they were. He replied that he did not know, +but, if he had permission, would send them away. On his questioning +them, they said they were friends of that gentleman, pointing to M. +Beausire. Then the man brought them to him, saying, "M. de Linville, +these gentlemen say they are friends of yours." + +"Ah, you are called De Linville now, dear M. Beausire!" + +Beausire trembled; he had concealed his name so carefully. He sent away +the huntsman, and asked them who they were. + +"Take us home with you, and we will tell you." + +"Home?" + +"Yes; do not be inhospitable." Beausire was frightened, but still feared +to refuse these men who knew him. + + + + +CHAPTER LXXXVII. + +THE TURTLES ARE CAGED. + + +Beausire, on entering the house, made a noise to attract Oliva's +attention, for, though he knew nothing about her later escapades, he +knew enough about the ball at the Opera, and the morning at M. Mesmer's, +to make him fear letting her be seen by strangers. Accordingly, Oliva, +hearing the dogs bark, looked out, and, seeing Beausire returning with +two strangers, did not come to meet him as usual. Unfortunately the +servant asked if he should call madame. The men rallied him about the +lady whom he had concealed; he let them laugh, but did not offer to call +her. They dined; then Beausire asked where they had met him before. "We +are," replied they, "friends of one of your associates in a little +affair about the Portuguese embassy." + +Beausire turned pale. + +"Ah!" said he: "and you came on your friend's part?" + +"Yes, dear M. Beausire, to ask for 10,000 francs." + +"Gentlemen," replied Beausire, "you cannot think I have such a sum in +the house." + +"Very likely not, monsieur; we do not ask for impossibilities. How much +have you?" + +"Not more than fifty or sixty louis." + +"We will take them to begin with." + +"I will go and fetch them," said Beausire. But they did not choose to +let him leave the room without them, so they caught hold of him by the +coat, saying: + +"Oh no, dear M. Beausire, do not leave us." + +"But how am I to get the money if I do not leave you?" + +"We will go with you." + +"But it is in my wife's bedroom." + +"Ah," cried one of them, "you hide your wife from us!" + +"Are we not presentable?" asked the other. "We wish to see her." + +"You are tipsy, and I will turn you out!" said Beausire. + +They laughed. + +"Now you shall not even have the money I promised," said he, emboldened +by what he thought their intoxication; and he ran out of the room. + +They followed and caught him; he cried out, and at the sound a door +opened, and a woman looked out with a frightened air. On seeing her, the +men released Beausire, and gave a cry of exultation, for they recognized +her immediately who resembled the Queen of France so strongly. + +Beausire, who believed them for a moment disarmed by the sight of a +woman, was soon cruelly undeceived. + +One of the men approached Oliva, and said: + +"I arrest you." + +"Arrest her! Why?" cried Beausire. + +"Because it is M. de Crosne's orders." + +A thunderbolt falling between the lovers would have frightened them less +than this declaration. + +At last Beausire said, "You came to arrest me?" + +"No; it was a chance." + +"Never mind, you might have arrested me, and for sixty louis you were +about to leave me at liberty." + +"Oh no, we should have asked another sixty; however, for one hundred we +will do so." + +"And madame?" + +"Oh, that is quite a different affair." + +"She is worth two hundred louis," said Beausire. + +They laughed again, and this time Beausire began to understand this +terrible laugh. + +"Three hundred, four hundred, a thousand--see, I will give you one +thousand louis to leave her at liberty!" + +They did not answer. + +"Is not that enough? Ah, you know I have money, and you want to make me +pay. Well, I will give you two thousand louis; it will make both your +fortunes!" + +"For 100,000 crowns we would not give up this woman. M. de Rohan will +give us 500,000 francs for her, and the queen 1,000,000. Now we must go. +You doubtless have a carriage of some kind here; have it prepared for +madame. We will take you also, for form's sake; but on the way you can +escape, and we will shut our eyes." + +Beausire replied, "Where she goes, I will go; I will never leave her." + +"Oh, so much the better; the more prisoners we bring M. de Crosne, the +better he will be pleased." + +A quarter of an hour after, Beausire's carriage started, with the two +lovers in it. One may imagine the effect of this capture on M. de +Crosne. The agents probably did not receive the 1,000,000 francs they +hoped for, but there is reason to believe they were satisfied. M. de +Crosne went to Versailles, followed by another carriage well guarded. He +asked to see the queen, and was instantly admitted. She judged from his +face that he had good news for her, and felt the first sensation of joy +she had experienced for a month. + +"Madame," said M. de Crosne, "have you a room here where you can see +without being seen?" + +"Oh yes--my library." + +"Well, madame, I have a carriage below, in which is some one whom I wish +to introduce into the castle unseen by any one." + +"Nothing more easy," replied the queen, ringing to give her orders. + +All was executed as he wished. Then she conducted M. de Crosne to the +library, where, concealed from view behind a large screen, she soon saw +enter a form which made her utter a cry of surprise. It was Oliva, +dressed in one of her own favorite costumes--a green dress with broad +stripes of black moiree, green satin slippers with high heels, and her +hair dressed like her own. It might have been herself reflected in the +glass. + +"What says your majesty to this resemblance?" asked M. de Crosne, +triumphantly. + +"Incredible," said the queen. She then thought to herself, "Ah! Charny; +why are you not here?" + +"What does your majesty wish?" + +"Nothing, sir, but that the king should know." + +"And M. de Provence see her? shall he not, madame?" + +"Thanks, M. de Crosne, you hold now, I think, the clue to the whole +plot." + +"Nearly so, madame." + +"And M. de Rohan?" + +"Knows nothing yet." + +"Ah!" cried the queen; "in this woman, doubtless, lies all his error." + +"Possibly, madame; but if it be his error it is the crime of some one +else." + +"Seek well, sir; the honor of France is in your hands." + +"Believe me worthy of the trust. At present, the accused parties deny +everything. I shall wait for the proper time to overwhelm them with this +living witness that I now hold." + +"Madame de la Motte?" + +"Knows nothing of this capture. She accuses M. de Cagliostro of having +excited the cardinal to say what he did." + +"And what does M. de Cagliostro say?" + +"He has promised to come to me this morning. He is a dangerous man, but +a useful one, and attacked by Madame de la Motte, I am in hopes he will +sting back again." + +"You hope for revelations?" + +"I do." + +"How so, sir? Tell me everything which can reassure me." + +"These are my reasons, madame. Madame de la Motte lived in the Rue St. +Claude, and M. de Cagliostro just opposite her. So I think her movements +cannot have been unnoticed by him; but if your majesty will excuse me, +it is close to the time he appointed to meet me." + +"Go, monsieur, go; and assure yourself of my gratitude." + +When he was gone the queen burst into tears. "My justification begins," +said she; "I shall soon read my triumph in all faces; but the one I most +cared to know me innocent, him I shall not see." + +M. de Crosne drove back to Paris, where M. de Cagliostro waited for him. +He knew all; for he had discovered Beausire's retreat, and was on the +road to see him, and induce him to leave France, when he met the +carriage containing Beausire and Oliva. Beausire saw the count, and the +idea crossed his mind that he might help them. He therefore accepted the +offer of the police-agents, gave them the hundred louis, and made his +escape, in spite of the tears shed by Oliva; saying, "I go to try and +save you." He ran after M. de Cagliostro's carriage, which he soon +overtook, as the count had stopped, it being useless to proceed. +Beausire soon told his story; Cagliostro listened in silence, then said, +"She is lost." + +"Why so?" Then Cagliostro told him all he did not already know--all the +intrigues in the park. + +"Oh! save her," cried Beausire; "and I will give her to you, if you love +her still." + +"My friend," replied Cagliostro, "you deceive yourself; I never loved +Mademoiselle Oliva; I had but one aim--that of weaning her from the life +of debauchery she was leading with you." + +"But----" said Beausire. + +"That astonishes you--know that I belong to a society whose object is +moral reform. Ask her if ever she heard from my mouth one word of +gallantry, or if my services were not disinterested." + +"Oh, monsieur! but will you save her?" + +"I will try, but it will depend on yourself." + +"I will do anything." + +"Then return with me to Paris, and if you follow my instructions +implicitly, we may succeed in saving her. I only impose one condition, +which I will tell you when I reach home." + +"I promise beforehand. But can I see her again?" + +"I think so, and you can tell her what I say to you." In two hours they +overtook the carriage containing Oliva, and Beausire bought for fifty +louis permission to embrace her, and tell her all the count had said. +The agents admired this violent love, and hoped for more louis, but +Beausire was gone. Cagliostro drove him to Paris. + +We will now return to M. de Crosne. + +This gentleman knew a good deal about Cagliostro, his former names, his +pretensions to ubiquity and perpetual regeneration, his secrets in +alchemy and magnetism, and looked upon him as a great charlatan. + +"Monsieur," said he to Cagliostro, "you asked me for an audience; I have +returned from Versailles to meet you." + +"Sir, I thought you would wish to question me about what is passing, so +I came to you." + +"Question you?" said the magistrate, affecting surprise. "On what?" + +"Monsieur," replied Cagliostro, "you are much occupied about Madame de +la Motte, and the missing necklace." + +"Have you found it?" asked M. de Crosne, laughing. + +"No, sir, but Madame de la Motte lived in the Rue St. Claude----" + +"I know, opposite you." + +"Oh, if you know all about Oliva, I have nothing more to tell you." + +"Who is Oliva?" + +"You do not know? Then, sir, imagine a young girl very pretty, with blue +eyes, and an oval face, a style of beauty something like her majesty, +for instance." + +"Well, sir?" + +"This young girl led a bad life; it gave me pain to see it; for she was +once in the service of an old friend of mine, M. de Taverney--but I +weary you." + +"Oh no, pray go on." + +"Well, Oliva led not only a bad life, but an unhappy one, with a fellow +she called her lover, who beat and robbed her." + +"Beausire," said the magistrate. + +"Ah! you know him. You are still more a magician than I am. Well, one +day when Beausire had beaten the poor girl more than usual, she fled to +me for refuge; I pitied her, and gave her shelter in one of my houses." + +"In your house!" cried M. de Crosne in surprise. + +"Oh! why not? I am a bachelor," said Cagliostro, with an air which quite +deceived M. de Crosne. + +"That is then the reason why my agents could not find her." + +"What! you were seeking this little girl? Had she then been guilty of +any crime?" + +"No, sir, no; pray go on." + +"Oh! I have done. I lodged her at my house, and that is all." + +"No, sir, for you just now associated her name with that of Madame de la +Motte." + +"Only as neighbors." + +"But, sir, this Oliva, whom you say you had in your house, I found in +the country with Beausire." + +"With Beausire? Ah! then I have wronged Madame de la Motte." + +"How so, sir?" + +"Why just as I thought I had hopes of reforming Oliva, and bringing her +back to an honest life, some one carried her away from me." + +"That is strange." + +"Is it not? And I firmly believed it to be Madame de la Motte. But as +you found her with Beausire, it was not she, and all her signals and +correspondence with Oliva meant nothing." + +"With Oliva?" + +"Yes." + +"They met?" + +"Yes, Madame de la Motte found a way to take Oliva out every night." + +"Are you sure of this?" + +"I saw and heard her." + +"Oh, sir, you tell me what I would have paid for with one thousand +francs a word. But you are a friend of M. de Rohan?" + +"Yes." + +"You ought to know how far he was connected with this affair." + +"I do not wish to know." + +"But you know the object of these nightly excursions of Madame de la +Motte and Oliva?" + +"Of that also I wish to be ignorant." + +"Sir, I only wish to ask you one more question. Have you proofs of the +correspondence of Madame de la Motte and Oliva?" + +"Plenty." + +"What are they?" + +"Notes which Madame de la Motte used to throw over to Oliva with a +cross-bow. Several of them did not reach their destination, and were +picked up either by myself, or my servants, in the street." + +"Sir, you will be ready to produce them, if called upon?" + +"Certainly; they are perfectly innocent, and cannot injure any one." + +"And have you any other proofs of intimacy?" + +"I know that she had a method of entering my house to see Oliva. I saw +her myself, just after Oliva had disappeared, and my servants saw her +also." + +"But what did she come for, if Oliva was gone?" + +"I did not know. I saw her come out of a carriage at the corner of the +street. My idea was that she wished to attach Oliva to her, and keep her +near her." + +"And you let her do it?" + +"Why not? She is a great lady, and received at court. Why should I have +prevented her taking charge of Oliva, and taking her off my hands?" + +"What did she say when she found that Oliva was gone?" + +"She appeared distressed." + +"You suppose that Beausire carried her off?" + +"I suppose so, for you tell me you found them together. I did not +suspect him before, for he did not know where she was." + +"She must have let him know herself." + +"I think not, as she had fled from him. I think Madame de la Motte must +have sent him a key." + +"Ah! what day was it?" + +"The evening of St. Louis." + +"Monsieur, you have rendered a great service to me and to the state." + +"I am happy to hear it." + +"You shall be thanked as you deserve. I may count on the production of +the proofs you mention?" + +"I am ready, sir, to assist justice at all times." + +As Cagliostro left, he muttered, "Ah, countess! you tried to accuse +me--take care of yourself." + +Meanwhile, M. de Breteuil was sent by the king to examine Madame de la +Motte. She declared that she had proofs of her innocence, which she +would produce at the proper time; she also declared, that she would only +speak the truth in the presence of the cardinal. She was told that the +cardinal laid all the blame upon her. "Tell him then," she said, "that I +advise him not to persist in such a foolish system of defense." + +"Whom then do you accuse?" asked M. Breteuil. + +"I accuse no one," was her reply. + +A report was spread at last that the diamonds were being sold in England +by M. Reteau de Villette. This man was soon found and arrested, and +brought over and confronted with Jeanne. To her utter confusion, he +acknowledged that he had forged a receipt from the jewelers, and a +letter from the queen at the request of Madame de la Motte. She denied +furiously, and declared that she had never seen M. Reteau. M. de Crosne +produced as witness a coachman, who swore to having driven her, on the +day named, to the house of M. Reteau. Also, one of the servants of M. de +Cagliostro deposed to having seen this man on the box of Jeanne's +carriage on the night that she came to his master's house. Now, Jeanne +began to abuse the count, and accused him of having inspired M. de Rohan +with the ideas inimical to the royal dignity. M. de Rohan defended him, +and Jeanne at once plainly accused the cardinal of a violent love for +the queen. M. de Cagliostro requested to be incarcerated, and allowed to +prove his innocence publicly. Then the queen caused to be published all +the reports made to the king about the nocturnal promenades, and +requested M. de Crosne to state all that he knew about it. This public +avowal overturned all Jeanne's plans, and she denied having assisted at +any meetings between the queen and the cardinal. This declaration would +have cleared the queen, had it been possible to attach any credence to +what this woman said. While Jeanne continued to deny that she had ever +been in the park, they brought forward Oliva at last, a living witness +of all the falsehoods of the countess. When Oliva was shown to the +cardinal the blow was dreadful. He saw at last how infamously he had +been played upon. This man, so full of delicacy and noble passions, +discovered that an adventuress had led him to insult and despise the +Queen of France; a woman whom he loved, and who was innocent. He would +have shed all his blood at the feet of Marie Antoinette to make +atonement. But he could not even acknowledge his mistake without owning +that he loved her--even his excuse would involve an offense; so he was +obliged to keep silent, and allow Jeanne to deny everything. Oliva +confessed all without reserve. At last Jeanne, driven from every hold, +confessed that she had deceived the cardinal, but declared that it was +done with the consent of the queen, who watched and enjoyed the scene, +hidden behind the trees. To this story she kept; the queen could never +disprove it, and there were plenty of people willing to believe it true. + + + + +CHAPTER LXXXVIII. + +THE LAST HOPE LOST. + + +Here the affair therefore rested, for Jeanne was determined to share the +blame with some one, as she could not turn it from herself. All her +calculations had been defeated by the frankness with which the queen had +met, and made public, every accusation against her. + +At last Jeanne wrote the following letter to the queen: + + "MADAME, + + "In spite of my painful position and rigorous treatment, I have not + uttered a complaint; all that has been tried to extort avowals from + me has failed to make me compromise my sovereign. However, although + persuaded that my constancy and discretion will facilitate my + release from my present position, the friends of the cardinal make + me fear I shall become his victim. A long imprisonment, endless + questions, and the shame and despair of being accused of such + crimes, begin to exhaust my courage, and I tremble lest my + constancy should at last give way. Your majesty might end all this + by a few words to M. de Breteuil, who could give the affair in the + king's eyes any color your majesty likes without compromising you. + It is the fear of being compelled to reveal all which makes me beg + your majesty to take steps to relieve me from my painful position. + I am, with profound respect, + + "Your humble servant, + + "JEANNE DE LA MOTTE." + +Jeanne calculated either that this letter would frighten the queen, or, +what was more probable, would never reach her hands, but be carried by +the messenger to the governor of the Bastile, where it could hardly fail +to tell against the queen. She then wrote to the cardinal: + + "I cannot conceive, monseigneur, why you persist in not speaking + plainly. It seems to me that your best plan would be to confide + fully in our judges. As for me, I am resolved to be silent if you + will not second me; but why do you not speak? Explain all the + circumstances of this mysterious affair, for if I were to speak + first, and you not support me, I should be sacrificed to the + vengeance of her who wishes to ruin us. But I have written her a + letter which will perhaps induce her to spare us, who have nothing + to reproach ourselves with." + +This letter she gave to the cardinal at their last confrontation. He +grew pale with anger at her audacity, and left the room. Then Jeanne +produced her letter to the queen, and begged the Abbe Lekel, chaplain of +the Bastile, who had accompanied the cardinal, and was devoted to him, +to take charge of it and convey it to the queen. He refused to take it. +She declared that if he did not she would produce M. de Rohan's letters +to the queen. "And take care, sir," added she, "for they will cause his +head to fall on the scaffold." + +At this moment the cardinal reappeared. + +"Madame," said he, "let my head fall, so that I have the satisfaction of +seeing also the scaffold which you shall mount as a thief and a forger. +Come, Abbe." He went away, leaving Jeanne devoured with rage and +disappointment at her failures at every turn. + + + + +CHAPTER LXXXIX. + +THE BAPTISM OF THE LITTLE BEAUSIRE. + + +Madame de la Motte had deceived herself on all points, Cagliostro upon +none. Once in the Bastile, he saw a good opportunity for working at the +ruin of the monarchy, which he had been trying to undermine for so many +years. He prepared the famous letter, dated from London, which appeared +a month after. In this letter, after attacking king, queen, cardinal, +and even M. de Breteuil, he said, "Yes, I repeat, now free after my +imprisonment, there is no crime that would not be expiated by six months +in the Bastile. They ask me if I shall ever return to France? Yes, I +reply, when the Bastile becomes a public promenade. You have all that is +necessary to happiness, you Frenchmen; a fertile soil and genial +climate, good hearts, gay tempers, genius, and grace. You only want, my +friends, one little thing--to feel sure of sleeping quietly in your beds +when you are innocent." + +Oliva kept her word faithfully to Cagliostro, and uttered no word that +could compromise him. She threw all the blame on Madame de la Motte, and +asserted vehemently her own innocent participation in what she believed +to be a joke, played on a gentleman unknown to her. All this time she +did not see Beausire, but she had a souvenir of him; for in the month of +May she gave birth to a son. Beausire was allowed to attend the baptism, +which took place in the prison, which he did with much pleasure, +swearing that if Oliva ever recovered her liberty he would make her his +wife. + + + + +CHAPTER XC. + +THE TRIAL. + + +The day at last arrived, after long investigations, when the judgment of +the court was to be pronounced. All the accused had been removed to the +Conciergerie, to be in readiness to appear when called on. Oliva +continued to be frank and timid; Cagliostro, tranquil and indifferent; +Reteau, despairing, cowardly, and weeping; and Jeanne, violent, +menacing, and venomous. She had managed to interest the keeper and his +wife, and thus obtain more freedom and indulgences. + +The first who took his place on the wooden stool, which was appropriated +for the accused, was Reteau, who asked pardon with tears and prayers, +declared all he knew, and avowed his crimes. He interested no one; he +was simply a knave and a coward. After him came Madame de la Motte. Her +appearance produced a great sensation; at the sight of the disgraceful +seat prepared for her, she, who called herself a Valois, threw around +her furious looks, but, meeting curiosity instead of sympathy, repressed +her rage. When interrogated, she continued, as before, to throw out +insinuations, stating nothing clearly but her own innocence. When +questioned as to the letters which she was reported to have said passed +between the queen and the cardinal, she answered that she did not wish +to compromise the queen, and that the cardinal was best able to answer +this question himself. "Ask him to produce them," said she; "I wish to +say nothing about them." She inspired in nearly all a feeling of +distrust and anger. When she retired, her only consolation was the hope +of seeing the cardinal in the seat after her; and her rage was extreme +when she saw it taken away, and an armchair brought for his use. The +cardinal advanced, accompanied by four attendants, and the governor of +the Bastile walked by his side. At his entrance he was greeted by a long +murmur of sympathy and respect; it was echoed by loud shouts from +without--it was the people who cheered him. He was pale, and much moved. +The president spoke politely to him, and begged him to sit down. When he +spoke, it was with a trembling voice, and a troubled and even humble +manner. He gave excuses rather than proofs, and supplications more than +reasons, but said little, and seemed to be deserted by his former +eloquence. Oliva came next. The wooden stool was brought back for her. +Many people trembled at seeing this living image of the queen sitting +there as a criminal. Then Cagliostro was called, but almost as a matter +of form, and dismissed immediately. The court then announced that the +proceedings were concluded, and the deliberations about to begin. All +the prisoners were locked for the night in the Conciergerie. The +sentence was not pronounced till the following day. Jeanne seated +herself early at the window, and before long heard a tremendous +shouting from the crowd collected to hear the sentence. This continued +for some time, when she distinctly heard a passer-by say, "A grand day +for the cardinal!" "For the cardinal," thought Jeanne; "then he is +acquitted;" and she ran to M. Hubert, the keeper, to ask, but he did not +know. "He must be acquitted!" she said; "they said it was a grand day +for him. But I----" + +"Well, madame," said he, "if he is acquitted, why should you not be +acquitted also?" + +Jeanne returned to the window. "You are wrong, madame," said Madame +Hubert to her; "you only become agitated, without perfectly +understanding what is passing. Pray remain quiet until your counsel +comes to communicate your fate." + +"I cannot," said Jeanne, continuing to listen to what passed in the +street. + +A woman passed, gaily dressed, and with a bouquet in her hand. "He shall +have my bouquet, the dear man!" said she. "Oh, I would embrace him if I +could!" + +"And I also," said another. + +"He is so handsome!" said a third. + +"It must be the cardinal," said Jeanne; "he is acquitted." + +And she said this with so much bitterness that the keeper said, "But, +madame, do you not wish the poor prisoner to be released?" + +Jeanne, unwilling to lose their sympathy, replied, "Oh, you +misunderstand me. Do you believe me so envious and wicked as to wish ill +to my companions in misfortune? Oh no; I trust he is free. It is only +impatience to learn my own fate, and you tell me nothing." + +"We do not know," replied they. + +Then other loud cries were heard. Jeanne could see the crowd pressing +round an open carriage, which was going slowly along. Flowers were +thrown, hats waved; some even mounted on the steps to kiss the hand of a +man who sat grave and half frightened at his own popularity. This was +the cardinal. Another man sat by him, and cries of "Vive Cagliostro!" +were mingled with the shouts for M. de Rohan. Jeanne began to gather +courage from all this sympathy for those whom she chose to call the +queen's victims; but suddenly the thought flashed on her, "They are +already set free, and no one has even been to announce my sentence!" and +she trembled. New shouts now drew her attention to a coach, which was +also advancing, followed by a crowd; and in this Jeanne recognized +Oliva, who sat smiling with delight at the people who cheered her, +holding her child in her arms. Then Jeanne, seeing all these people +free, happy, and feted, began to utter loud complaints that she was not +also liberated, or at least told her fate. + +"Calm yourself, madame," said Madame Hubert. + +"But tell me, for you must know." + +"Madame." + +"I implore you! You see how I suffer." + +"We are forbidden, madame." + +"Is it so frightful that you dare not?" + +"Oh no; calm yourself." + +"Then speak." + +"Will you be patient, and not betray us?" + +"I swear." + +"Well, the cardinal is acquitted." + +"I know it." + +"M. de Cagliostro and Mademoiselle Oliva are also acquitted, M. Reteau +condemned to the galleys----" + +"And I?" cried Jeanne, furiously. + +"Madame, you promised to be patient." + +"See--speak--I am calm." + +"Banished," said the woman, feebly. + +A flash of delight shone for a moment in the eyes of the countess; then +she pretended to faint, and threw herself into the arms of Madame +Hubert. "What would it have been," thought she, "if I had told her the +truth!" + +"Banishment!" thought Jeanne; "that is liberty, riches, vengeance; it is +what I hoped for. I have won!" + + + + +CHAPTER XCI. + +THE EXECUTION. + + +Jeanne waited for her counsel to come and announce her fate; but, being +now at ease, said to herself, "What do I care that I am thought more +guilty than M. de Rohan? I am banished--that is to say, I can carry away +my million and a half with me, and live under the orange trees of +Seville during the winter, and in Germany or England in the summer. Then +I can tell my own story, and, young, rich, and celebrated, live as I +please among my friends." + +Pleasing herself with these notions, she commenced settling all her +future plans, the disposal of her diamonds, and her establishment in +London. This brought to her mind M. Reteau. "Poor fellow!" thought she, +"it is he who pays for all; some one must suffer, and it always falls on +the humblest instrument. Poor Reteau pays now for his pamphlets against +the queen; he has led a hard life of blows and escapes, and now it +terminates with the galleys." She dined with M. and Madame Hubert, and +was quite gay; but they did not respond, and were silent and uneasy. +Jeanne, however, felt so happy that she cared little for their manner +towards her. After dinner, she asked when they were coming to read her +sentence. + +M. Hubert said they were probably waiting till she returned to her room. +She therefore rose to go, when Madame Hubert ran to her and took her +hands, looking at her with an expression of so much pity and sympathy, +that it struck her for a moment with terror. She was about to question +her, but Hubert took her hand, and led her from the room. When she +reached her own apartment, she found eight soldiers waiting outside; she +felt surprised, but went in, and allowed the man to lock her up as +usual. Soon, however, the door opened again, and one of the turnkeys +appeared. + +"Will madame please to follow me?" he said. + +"Where?" + +"Below." + +"What for? What do they want with me?" + +"Madame, M. Viollet, your counsel, wishes to speak to you." + +"Why does he not come here?" + +"Madame, he has received letters from Versailles, and wishes to show +them to you." + +"Letters from Versailles," thought Jeanne; "perhaps the queen has +interested herself for me, since the sentence was passed. Wait a +little," she said; "Till I arrange my dress." In five minutes she was +ready. "Perhaps," she thought, "M. Viollet has come to get me to leave +France at once, and the queen is anxious to facilitate the departure of +so dangerous an enemy." + +She followed the turnkey down-stairs, and they entered a room, which +looked like a vault; it was damp, and almost dark. + +"Sir," said she, trying to overcome her terror, "where is M. Viollet?" + +The man did not reply. + +"What do you want?" continued she; "have you anything to say to me? you +have chosen a very singular place for a rendezvous." + +"We are waiting for M. Viollet," he replied. + +"It is not possible that M. Viollet should wish for me to wait for him +here." All at once, another door, which Jeanne had not before observed, +opened, and three men entered. Jeanne looked at them in surprise, and +with growing terror. One of them, who was dressed in black, with a roll +of papers in his hand, advanced, and said: + +"You are Jeanne de St. Remy de Valois, wife of Marie Antoine, Count de +la Motte?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Born at Fontette, on the 22d of July, 1756?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"You live at Paris, Rue St. Claude?" + +"Yes, sir; but why these questions?" + +"Madame, I am the registrar of the court, and I am come to read to you +the sentence of the court of the 31st of May, 1786." + +Jeanne trembled again, and now looked at the other two men; one had a +gray dress with steel buttons, the other a fur cap on and an apron, +which seemed to her spotted with blood. She drew back, but the registrar +said, "On your knees, madame, if you please." + +"On my knees?" cried Jeanne; "I, a Valois!" + +"It is the order, madame." + +"But, sir, it is an unheard-of thing, except where some degrading +sentence has been pronounced; and banishment is not such." + +"I did not tell you you were sentenced to banishment," said he gravely. + +"But to what, then?" + +"I will tell you, madame, when you are on your knees." + +"Never!" + +"Madame, I only follow my instructions." + +"Never! I tell you." + +"Madame, it is the order that when the condemned refuse to kneel, they +should be forced to do it." + +"Force--to a woman!" + +"There is no distinction in the eyes of justice." + +"Ah!" cried Jeanne, "this is the queen's doings; I recognize the hands +of an enemy." + +"You are wrong to accuse the queen; she has nothing to do with the +orders of the court. Come, madame, I beg you to spare me the necessity +of violence, and kneel down." + +"Never!" and she planted herself firmly in a corner of the room. + +The registrar then signed to the two other men, who, approaching, seized +her, and in spite of her cries dragged her into the middle of the room. +But she bounded up again. + +"Let me stand," said she, "and I will listen patiently." + +"Madame, whenever criminals are punished by whipping, they kneel to +receive the sentence." + +"Whipping!" screamed Jeanne; "miserable wretch, how dare you----" + +The men forced her on her knees once more, and held her down, but she +struggled so furiously that they called out, "Read quickly, monsieur, +for we cannot hold her." + +"I will never hear such an infamous sentence," she cried; and indeed she +drowned his voice so effectually with her screams, that although he +read, not a word could be heard. + +He replaced his papers in his pocket, and she, thinking he had finished, +stopped her cries. Then he said, "And the sentence shall be executed at +the place of executions, Cour de Justice." + +"Publicly!" screamed she. + +"Monsieur de Paris, I deliver you this woman," said the registrar, +addressing the man with the leathern apron. + +"Who is this man?" cried Jeanne, in a fright. + +"The executioner," replied the registrar. + +The two men then took hold of her to lead her out, but her resistance +was so violent that they were obliged to drag her along by force, and +she never ceased uttering the most frantic cries. They took her thus +into the court called Cour de Justice, where there was a scaffold and +which was crowded with spectators. On a platform, raised about eight +feet, was a post garnished with iron rings, and with a ladder to mount +to it. This place was surrounded with soldiers. When she appeared, cries +of "Here she is!" mingled with much abuse, were heard from the crowd. +Numbers of the partisans of M. de Rohan had assembled to hoot her, and +cries of "A bas la Motte, the forger!" were heard on every side, and +those who tried to express pity for her were soon silenced. Then she +cried in a loud voice, "Do you know who I am? I am of the blood of your +kings. They strike in me, not a criminal, but a rival; not only a rival, +but an accomplice. Yes," repeated she, as the people kept silence to +kept listen, "an accomplice. They punish one who knows the secrets +of----" + +"Take care," interrupted the registrar. + +She turned and saw the executioner with the whip in his hand. At this +sight she forgot her desire to captivate the multitude, and even her +hatred, and sinking on her knees she said, "Have pity!" and seized his +hand; but he raised the other, and let the whip fall lightly on her +shoulders. She jumped up, and was about to try and throw herself off the +scaffold, when she saw the other man, who was drawing from a fire a hot +iron. At this sight she uttered a perfect howl, which was echoed by the +people. + +"Help! help!" she cried, trying to shake off the cord with which they +were tying her hands. The executioner at last forced her on her knees, +and tore open her dress; but she cried, with a voice which was heard +through all the tumult, "Cowardly Frenchmen! you do not defend me, but +let me be tortured; oh! it is my own fault. If I had said all I knew of +the queen I should have been----" + +She could say no more, for she was gagged by the attendants: then two +men held her, while the executioner performed his office. At the touch +of the iron she fainted, and was carried back insensible to the +Conciergerie when the crowd gradually dispersed. + + + + +CHAPTER XCII. + +THE MARRIAGE. + + +On the same day at noon the king entered a drawing-room, where the queen +was sitting in full dress, but pale through her rouge, and surrounded by +a party of ladies and gentlemen. He glanced frequently towards the door. +"Are not the young couple ready? I believe it is noon," he said. + +"Sire, M. de Charny is waiting in the gallery for your majesty's +orders," said the queen, with a violent effort. + +"Oh! let him come in." The queen turned from the door. "The bride ought +to be here also," continued the king, "it is time." + +"Your majesty must excuse Mademoiselle de Taverney, if she is late," +replied M. de Charny, advancing; "for since the death of her father she +has not left her bed until to-day, and she fainted when she did so." + +"This dear child loved her father so much," replied the king, "but we +hope a good husband will console her. M. de Breteuil," said he, turning +to that gentleman, "have you made out the order of banishment for M. de +Cagliostro?" + +"Yes, sire." + +"And that De la Motte. Is it not to-day she is to be branded?" + +At this moment, Andree appeared, dressed in white like a bride, and with +cheeks nearly as white as her dress. She advanced leaning on her +brother's arm. M. de Suffren, leading his nephew, came to meet her, and +then drew back to allow her to approach the king. + +"Mademoiselle," said Louis, taking her hand, "I begged of you to hasten +this marriage, instead of waiting until the time of your mourning had +expired, that I might have the pleasure of assisting at the ceremony; +for to-morrow I and the queen commence a tour through France." And he led +Andree up to the queen, who could hardly stand, and did not raise her +eyes. The king then, putting Andree's hand into Philippe's, said, +"Gentlemen, to the chapel,"--and they began to move. The queen kneeled +on her prie Dieu, her face buried in her hands, praying for strength. +Charny, though pale as death, feeling that all eyes were upon him, +appeared calm and strong. Andree remained immovable as a statue; she did +not pray--she had nothing to ask, to hope for, or to fear. The ceremony +over, the king kissed Andree on the forehead, saying, "Madame la +Comtesse, go to the queen, she wishes to give you a wedding present." + +"Oh!" murmured Andree to Philippe, "it is too much; I can bear no more; +I cannot do that." + +"Courage, sister, one effort more." + +"I cannot, Philippe; if she speaks to me, I shall die." + +"Then, you will be happier than I, for I cannot die." + +Andree said no more, but went to the queen. She found her in her chair +with closed eyes and clasped hands, seeming more dead than alive, except +for the shudders which, shook her from time to time. Andree waited +tremblingly to hear her speak; but, after a minute, she rose slowly, and +took from the table a paper, which she put into Andree's hands. Andree +opened it, and read: + + "Andree, you have saved me. My honor comes from you; my life + belongs to you. In the name of this honor, which has cost you so + dear, I swear to you that you may call me sister without blushing. + This paper is the pledge of my gratitude, the dowry which I give + you. Your heart is noble and will thank me for this gift. + +"MARIE ANTOINETTE DE LORRAINE D'AUTRICHE." + +Andree looked at the queen, and saw tears falling from her eyes; she +seemed expecting an answer, but Andree, putting the letter in the fire, +turned and left the room. Then Charny, who was waiting for her, took her +hand, and they, each pale and silent, left the room. Two +traveling-carriages were in the courtyard; Andree got into one, and then +said: + +"Sir, I believe you go to Picardy." + +"Yes, madame." + +"And I to where my mother lies dead. Adieu, monsieur." + +Charny bowed, but did not reply, and Andree drove off. + +Charny himself, after giving his hand to Philippe, got into the other, +and also drove off. + +Then Philippe cried, in a tone of anguish, "My task is done!" and he too +vanished. + +THE END. + + + + +List of illustrations: + +CAGLIOSTRO AND OLIVA + +THE QUEEN'S NECKLACE + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE QUEEN'S NECKLACE*** + + +******* This file should be named 20122.txt or 20122.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/0/1/2/20122 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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