The Queen's Necklace, Alexandre Dumas père [best love story novels in english TXT] 📗

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