The Queen's Necklace Part 125

"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, s.n.a.t.c.hed 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 n.o.bles in the kingdom, and my conduct being exposed to the test of public opinion, does not satisfy you?"

"Oh!" cried Charny, "you are n.o.ble 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!"