The Queen's Necklace

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. Bœhmer 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. Bœhmer, "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. Bœhmer."

"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. Bœhmer?"

"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 Bœhmer, 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. Bœhmer, 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 Bœhmer, in a low voice, that Madame de la Motte might not hear.

"The ambassador from Portugal!" said the queen. "There is none here, M. Bœhmer."

"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 Bœhmer.

"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 Bœhmer, 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 Bœhmer, "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 Bœhmer.

"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 Bœhmer.

"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. Bœhmer 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. Bœhmer 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 Bœhmer 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. Bœhmer. 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. Bœhmer," 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. Bœhmer.

"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. Bœhmer, 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. Bœhmer 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.