The Queen's Necklace Part 63

"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 amba.s.sador, at least he seemed like one.'"

CHAPTER x.x.x.

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 a.s.sist 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.