The Queen's Necklace

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 Bœhmer, 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. Bœhmer 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. Bœhmer'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. Bœhmer."

"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. Bœhmer'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."