The Queen's Necklace

CHAPTER XLVII.
JEANNE PROTECTED

Mistress of such a secret, rich in such a future, and supported by such a friend, Jeanne felt herself strong against the world. To appear at court, no longer as a suppliant, as the poor mendicant, drawn from poverty by Madame de Boulainvilliers, but as a Valois, with an income of 100,000 francs; to be called the favorite of the queen, and consequently governing the king and state through her. – Such was the panorama that floated before the eyes of Jeanne.

She went to Versailles. She had no audience promised, but she trusted to her good fortune, and as the queen had received her so well before, all the officials were anxious to serve her. Therefore, one of the doorkeepers said aloud, as the queen came from chapel, to one of her gentlemen, "Monsieur, what am I to do? Here is Madame la Comtesse de la Motte Valois asking admission, and she has no letter of audience."

The queen heard and turned round. "Did you say Madame de la Motte Valois was here?" she asked.

"Your majesty, the doorkeeper says so."

"I will receive her; bring her to the bath-room."

The man told Jeanne what he had done. She drew out her purse; but he said, "Will Madame la Comtesse allow this debt to accumulate? Some day she can pay me with interest."

"You are right, my friend; I thank you."

Marie Antoinette looked serious when Jeanne entered.

"She supposes I am come again to beg," thought Jeanne.

"Madame," said the queen, "I have not yet had an opportunity to speak to the king."

"Oh, your majesty has already done too much for me; I ask nothing more. I came – " she hesitated.

"Is it something urgent, that you did not wait to ask for an audience?"

"Urgent! Yes, madame; but not for myself."

"For me, then?" and the queen conducted her into the bath-room, where her women were waiting for her. Once in the bath, she sent them away.

"Now, countess."

"Madame," said Jeanne, "I am much embarrassed."

"Why so?"

"Your majesty knows the kindness I have received from M. de Rohan."

The queen frowned. "Well, madame?"

"Yesterday his eminence came to see me, and spoke to me as usual of your majesty's goodness and kindness."

"What does he want?"

"I expressed to him all my sense of your generosity, which constantly empties your purse, and told him that I felt almost guilty in thinking of your majesty's gift to myself, and remembering that were it not for such liberality your majesty need not have been forced to deny yourself the beautiful necklace which became you so well. When I related this circumstance to M. de Rohan, I saw him grow pale and the tears came into his eyes. Indeed, madame, his fine face, full of admiration for, and emotion caused by, your noble conduct, is ever before my eyes."

"Well, countess, if he has impressed you so deeply, I advise you not to let him see it. M. de Rohan is a worldly prelate, and gathers the sheep as much for himself as for his Lord."

"Oh, madame!"

"It is not I who say it: that is his reputation; he almost glories in it; his trophies are numerous, and some of them have made no little scandal."

"Well, madame, I am sure he thought then of no one but your majesty."

The queen laughed.

"Your majesty's modesty will not allow you to listen to praises."

"Not from the cardinal – I suspect them all."

"It is not my part," replied Jeanne, respectfully, "to defend any one who has incurred your majesty's displeasure."

"M. de Rohan has offended me, but I am a queen and a Christian, and do not wish to dwell on offenses."

Jeanne was silent.

"You think differently to me on this subject?"

"Completely, your majesty."

"You would not speak so if you knew what he has done against me; but as you have so great a friendship for him, I will not attack him again before you. You have not, then, forgotten the diamonds?"

"Oh, madame, I have thought of them night and day. They will look so well on your majesty."

"What do you mean? They are sold to the Portuguese ambassador."

Jeanne shook her head.

"Not sold!" cried the queen.

"Yes, madame, but to M. de Rohan."

"Oh," said the queen, becoming suddenly cold again.

"Oh! your majesty," cried Jeanne; "do not be ungenerous towards him. It was the impulse of a generous heart that your majesty should understand and sympathize with. When he heard my account he cried, – 'What! the queen refuse herself such a thing, and perhaps see it one day worn by one of her subjects!' And when I told him that it was bought for the Queen of Portugal, he was more indignant than ever. He cried, 'It is no longer a simple question of pleasure for the queen, but of the dignity of the French crown. I know the spirit of foreign courts; they will laugh at our queen because they happen to have more money to spare: and I will never suffer this.' And he left me abruptly. An hour after I heard that he had bought the necklace."

"For 1,500,000 francs?"

"1,600,000, madame."

"With what intention?"

"That at least if your majesty would not have them no one else should."

"Are you sure it is not for some mistress?"

"I am sure he would rather break it to pieces than see it on any other neck than your own."

Marie Antoinette reflected, and her expressive countenance showed clearly every thought that passed through her mind. At last she said:

"What M. de Rohan has done is a noble trait of a delicate devotion, and you will thank him for me."

"Oh yes, madame."

"You will add, that he has proved to me his friendship, and that I accept it, but not his gift."

"But, madame – "

"No, but as a loan. He has advanced his money and his credit to please me, and I will repay him. Bœhmer has asked for money down?"

"Yes, madame."

"How much?"

"100,000 francs."

"That is my quarter's allowance from the king. I received it this morning; it is in advance, but still I have it." She rang the bell. Her woman came and wrapped her in warm sheets, and then she dressed herself. Once more alone in her bedroom with Jeanne, she said:

"Open that drawer, and you will see a portfolio."

"Here it is, madame."

"It holds the 100,000 francs – count them."

Jeanne obeyed.

"Take them to the cardinal with my thanks; each quarter I will pay the same. In this manner I shall have the necklace which pleased me so much, and if it embarrasses me to pay it, at least it will not hurt the king; and I shall have gained the knowledge that I have a friend who has guessed my wishes." Then, after a pause, "You will add, countess, that M. de Rohan will be welcome at Versailles to receive my thanks."

Jeanne went away full of joy and delight.

CHAPTER XLVIII.
THE QUEEN'S PORTFOLIO

The cardinal was at home when Madame de la Motte came to his hotel. She had herself announced, and was immediately admitted.

"You come from Versailles?" said he.

"Yes."

"Well?"

"Well, monseigneur, what do you expect?"

"Ah, countess, you say that with an air that frightens me."

"You wished me to see the queen, and I have seen her; and that I should speak to her of you whom she has always so much disliked."

"And you did?"

"Yes, and her majesty listened."

"Say no more, countess, I see she will not overcome her repugnance."

"Oh! as to that, I spoke of the necklace."

"And did you dare to say that I wished – "

"To buy it for her? Yes."

"Oh, countess, you are sublime; and she listened?"

"Yes, but she refused."

"Oh, I am lost."

"Refused to accept it as a gift, but not as a loan."

"I lend to the queen! countess, it is impossible."

"It is more than giving, is it not?"

"A thousand times."

"So I thought."

The cardinal rose and came towards her. "Do not deceive me," he said.

"One does not play with the affections of a man like you, monseigneur."

"Then it is true?"

"The exact truth."

"I have a secret with the queen!" and he pressed Jeanne's hand.

"I like that clasp of the hand," she said, "it is like one man to another."

"It is that of a happy man to a protecting angel."

"Monseigneur, do not exaggerate."

"Oh, my joy! my gratitude! impossible."

"But lending a million and a half to the queen is not all you wish for? Buckingham would have asked for more."

"Buckingham believed what I dare not even dream of."

"The queen sends you word that she will see you with pleasure at Versailles."

The cardinal looked as pale as a youth who gives his first kiss of love.

"Ah," thought she, "it is still more serious than I imagined. I can get what I please from him, for he acts really not from ambition but from love."

He quickly recovered himself, however: "My friend," said he, "how does the queen mean to act about this loan she talks of?"

"Ah, you think she has no money. But she will pay you as she would have paid Bœhmer. Only if she had paid him all Paris must have known it, which she would not have liked, after the credit she has had for her refusal of it. You are a cashier for her, and a solvent one if she becomes embarrassed. She is happy and she pays. Ask no more."

"She pays?"

"Yes, she knows you have debts; and when I told her you had advanced 100,000 francs – "

"You told her?"

"Yes; why not?" Jeanne put her hand in her pocket, and drew out the portfolio. "The queen sends you this with thanks; it is all right, for I have counted it."

"Who cares for that? But the portfolio?"

"Well, it is not handsome."

"It pleases me, nevertheless."

"You have good taste."

"Ah, you quiz me."

"You have the same taste as the queen, at all events."

"Then it was hers?"

"Do you wish for it?"

"I cannot deprive you of it."

"Take it."

"Oh, countess, you are a precious friend; but while you have worked for me, I have not forgotten you."

Jeanne looked surprised.

"Yes," said he, "my banker came to propose to me some plan of a marsh to drain, which must be profitable. I took two hundred shares, and fifty of them are for you."

"Oh, monseigneur!"

"He soon returned, he had realized already on them cent. per cent. He gave me 100,000 francs, and here is your share, dear countess;" and from the pocket-book she had just given him he slid 25,000 francs into her hand.

"Thanks, monseigneur. What gratifies me most is, that you thought of me."

"I shall ever do so," said he, kissing her hand.

"And I of you, at Versailles."

CHAPTER XLIX.
IN WHICH WE FIND DR. LOUIS

Perhaps our readers, remembering in what a position we left M. de Charny, will not dislike to return with us to that little ante-chamber at Versailles into which this brave seaman, who feared neither men nor elements, had fled, lest he should show his weakness to the queen. Once arrived there, he felt it impossible to go further; he stretched out his arms, and was only saved from falling to the ground by the aid of those around. He then fainted, and was totally ignorant that the queen had seen him, and would have run to his assistance had Andrée not prevented her, more even from a feeling of jealousy than from regard for appearances. Immediately after the king entered, and seeing a man lying supported by two guards, who, unaccustomed to see men faint, scarcely knew what to do, advanced, saying, "Some one is ill here."

At his voice the men started and let their burden fall.

"Oh!" cried the king, "it is M. de Charny. Place him on this couch, gentlemen." Then they brought him restoratives, and sent for a doctor.

The king waited to hear the result. The doctor's first care was to open the waistcoat and shirt of the young man to give him air, and then he saw the wound.

"A wound!" cried the king.

"Yes," said M. de Charny, faintly, "an old wound, which has reopened;" and he pressed the hand of the doctor to make him understand.

But this was not a court doctor, who understands everything; so, willing to show his knowledge, "Old, sir! this wound is not twenty-four hours old."

Charny raised himself at this, and said, "Do you teach me, sir, when I received my wound?" Then, turning round, he cried, "The king!" and hastened to button his waistcoat.

"Yes, M. de Charny, who fortunately arrived in time to procure you assistance."

"A mere scratch, sire," stammered Charny, "an old wound."

"Old or new," replied Louis, "it has shown me the blood of a brave man."

"Whom a couple of hours in bed will quite restore," continued Charny, trying to rise; but his strength failed him, his head swam, and he sank back again.

"He is very ill," said the king.

"Yes, sire," said the doctor, with importance, "but I can cure him."

The king understood well that M. de Charny wished to hide some secret from him, and determined to respect it. "I do not wish," said he, "that M. de Charny should run the risk of being moved; we will take care of him here. Let M. de Suffren be called, this gentleman recompensed, and my own physician, Dr. Louis, be sent for."

While one officer went to execute these orders, two others carried Charny into a room at the end of the gallery. Dr. Louis and M. de Suffren soon arrived. The latter understood nothing of his nephew's illness. "It is strange," said he; "do you know, doctor, I never knew my nephew ill before."

"That proves nothing," replied the doctor.

"The air of Versailles must be bad for him."

"It is his wound," said one of the officers.

"His wound!" cried M. de Suffren; "he never was wounded in his life."

"Oh, excuse me," said the officer, opening the shirt, covered with blood, "but I thought – "

"Well," said the doctor, who began to see the state of the case, "do not let us lose time disputing over the cause, but see what can be done to cure him."

"Is it dangerous, doctor?" asked M. de Suffren, with anxiety.

"Not at all," replied he.

M. de Suffren took his leave, and left Charny with the doctor. Fever commenced, and before long he was delirious. Three hours after the doctor called a servant, and told him to take Charny in his arms, who uttered doleful cries. "Roll the sheet over his head," said the doctor.

"But," said the man, "he struggles so much that I must ask assistance from one of the guards."

"Are you afraid of a sick man, sir? If he is too heavy for you, you are not strong enough for me. I must send you back to Auvergne." This threat had its effect. Charny, crying, fighting, and gesticulating, was carried by the man through the guards.

Some of the officers questioned the doctor.

"Oh! gentlemen," said he, "this gallery is too far off for me; I must have him in my own rooms."

"But I assure you, doctor, we would all have looked after him here. We all love M. de Suffren."

"Oh yes, I know your sort of care! The sick man is thirsty, and you give him something to drink, and kill him."

"Now there remains but one danger," said the doctor to himself, as he followed Charny, "that the king should want to visit him, and if he hear him – Diable! I must speak to the queen." The good doctor, therefore, having bathed the head and face of his patient with cold water, and seen him safe in bed, went out and locked the door on him, leaving his servant to look after him. He went towards the queen's apartments, and met Madame de Misery, who had just been despatched to ask after the patient.

"Come with me," he said.

"But, doctor, the queen waits for intelligence."

"I am going to her."

"The queen wishes – "

"The queen shall know all she wishes. I will take care of that."

CHAPTER L.
ÆGRI SOMNIA

The queen was expecting the return of Madame de Misery. The doctor entered with his accustomed familiarity. "Madame," he said, "the patient in whom your majesty and the king are interested is as well as any one can be who has a fever."

"Is it a slight wound?" asked the queen.

"Slight or not, he is in a fever."

"Poor fellow! – a bad fever?"

"Terrible!"

"You frighten me; dear doctor; you, who are generally so cheering. Besides, you look about you, as though you had a secret to tell."

"So I have."

"About the fever?"

"Yes."

"To tell me?"

"Yes."

"Speak, then, for I am curious."

"I wait for you to question me, madame."

"Well, how does the fever go on?"

"No; ask me why I have taken him away from the guard's gallery, where the king left him, to my own room."

"Well, I ask. Indeed it is strange."

"Then, madame, I did so, because it is not an ordinary fever."

The queen looked surprised. "What do you mean?"

"M. de Charny is delirious already, and in his delirium he says a number of things rather delicate for the gentlemen of the guard to hear."

"Doctor!"

"Oh, madame! you should not question me, if you do not wish to hear my answers."

"Well, then, dear doctor, is he an atheist? Does he blaspheme?"

"Oh, no! he is on the contrary a devotee."

The queen assumed a look of sang-froid. "M. de Charny," she said, "interests me. He is the nephew of M. de Suffren, and has besides rendered me personal services. I wish to be a friend to him. Tell me, therefore, the exact truth."

"But I cannot tell you, madame. If your majesty wishes to know, the only way is to hear him yourself."

"But if he says such strange things?"

"Things which your majesty ought to hear."

"But," said the queen, "I cannot move a step here, without some charitable spy watching me."

"I will answer for your security. Come through my private way, and I will lock the door after us."

"I trust to you, then, dear doctor." And she followed him, burning with curiosity.

When they reached the second door the doctor put his ear to the keyhole.

"Is your patient in there, doctor?"

"No, madame, or you would have heard him at the end of the corridor. Even here you can hear his voice."

"He groans."

"No, he speaks loud and distinct."

"But I cannot go in to him."

"I do not mean you to do so. I only wish you to listen in the adjoining room, where you will hear without being seen." They went on, and the doctor entered the sick-room alone.

Charny, still dressed in his uniform, was making fruitless efforts to rise, and was repeating to himself his interview with the German lady in the coach. "German!" he cried – "German! Queen of France!"

"Do you hear, madame?"

"It is frightful," continued Charny, "to love an angel, a woman – to love her madly – to be willing to give your life for her; and when you come near her, to find her only a queen – of velvet and of gold, of metal and of silk, and no heart."

"Oh! oh!" cried the doctor again.

"I love a married woman!" Charny went on, "and with that wild love which, makes me forget everything else. Well, I will say to her, there remain for us still some happy days on this earth. Come, my beloved, and we will live the life of the blessed, if we love each other. Afterwards there will be death – better than a life like this. Let us love at least."

"Not badly reasoned for a man in a fever," said the doctor.

"But her children!" cried Charny suddenly, with fury; "she will not leave her children. Oh! we will carry them away also. Surely I can carry her, she is so light, and her children too." Then he gave a terrible cry: "But they are the children of a king!"

The doctor left his patient and approached the queen.

"You are right, doctor," said she; "this young man would incur a terrible danger if he were overheard."

"Listen again," said the doctor.

"Oh, no more."

But just then Charny said, in a gentler voice:

"Marie, I feel that you love me, but I will say nothing about it. Marie, I felt the touch of your foot in the coach; your hand touched mine, but I will never tell; I will keep this secret with my life. My blood may all flow away, Marie, but my secret shall not escape with it. My enemy steeped his sword in my blood, but if he has guessed my secret, yours is safe. Fear nothing, Marie, I do not even ask you if you love me; you blushed, that is enough."

"Oh!" thought the doctor; "this sounds less like delirium than like memory."

"I have heard enough," cried the queen, rising and trembling violently; and she tried to go.

The doctor stopped her. "Madame," said he, "what do you wish?"

"Nothing, doctor, nothing."

"But if the king ask to see my patient?"

"Oh! that would be dreadful!"

"What shall I say?"

"Doctor, I cannot think; this dreadful spectacle has confused me."

"I think you have caught his fever," said the doctor, feeling her pulse.

She drew away her hand, and escaped.

CHAPTER LI.
ANDRÉE

The doctor remained thoughtful, then said to himself, – "There are other difficulties here besides those I can contend with by science." He bathed again the temples of his patient, who for the time began to grow calmer.

All at once the doctor heard the rustling of a dress outside. "Can it be the queen returned?" thought he; and opening the door softly, he saw before him the motionless figure of a woman, looking like a statue of despair. It was almost dark; he advanced suddenly along the corridor to the place where the figure was standing. On seeing him, she uttered a cry.

"Who is there?" asked Doctor Louis.

"I, doctor!" replied a sweet and sorrowful voice – a voice that he knew but could not immediately recognize. "I, Andrée de Taverney," continued she.

"Oh, mon Dieu! what is the matter?" cried the doctor; "is she ill?"

"She! who?"

The doctor felt that he had committed an imprudence.

"Excuse me, but I saw a lady going away just now, perhaps it was you."

"Oh, yes, there has been a lady here before me, has there not?" asked Andrée, in a tone of emotion.

"My dear child," replied the doctor, "of whom do you speak? what do you want to know?"

"Doctor," answered Andrée, in a sorrowful voice, "you always speak the truth, do not deceive me now; I am sure there was a woman here before me."

"Doubtless. Why should I deceive you? Madame de Misery was here."

"It was Madame de Misery who came?"

"Certainly; what makes you doubt? What inexplicable beings women are."

"Dear doctor."

"Well, but to the point. Is she worse?"

"Who?"

"Pardieu, the queen."

"The queen!"

"Yes, the queen, for whom Madame de Misery came to fetch me, and who was troubled with her palpitations. If you come from her, tell me, and we will go back together."

"No, doctor, I do not come from the queen, and was even ignorant that she was suffering. But pardon me, doctor, I scarcely know what I an saying." In fact, she seemed on the point of fainting.

The doctor supported her. She rallied by a strong effort. "Doctor," she said, "you know I am nervous in the dark; I lost my way in these intricate passages, and have grown frightened and foolish."

"And why the devil should you be wandering about these dark passages, since you came for nothing?"

"I did not say I came for nothing, only that no one sent me."

"Well, if you have anything to say to me, come away from here, for I am tired of standing."

"Oh, I shall not be ten minutes; can any one hear us?"

"No one."

"Not even your patient in there?"

"Oh, no fear of his hearing anything."

Andrée clasped her hands. "Oh, mon Dieu!" she cried, "he is, then, very ill?"

"Indeed he is not well. But tell me quickly what brings you here, for I cannot wait."

"Well, doctor, we have spoken of it; I came to ask after him."

Doctor Louis received this confession with a solemn silence, which Andrée took for a reproach.

"You may excuse this step, doctor," she said, "as he was wounded in a duel with my brother."

"Your brother! I was ignorant of that."

"But now that you know it, you understand why I inquire after him."

"Oh, certainly, my child," said the good doctor, enchanted to find an excuse for being indulgent; "I could not know this."

"A duel between two gentlemen is a thing of everyday occurrence, doctor."

"Certainly; the only thing that could make it of importance would be that they have fought about a lady!"

"About a lady!"

"About yourself, for example."

Andrée sighed.

"Oh, doctor! they did not fight about me."

"Then," said the doctor, "is it your brother that has sent you for news of M. de Charny?"

"Oh, yes, my brother, doctor."

Dr. Louis looked at her scrutinizingly.

"I will find out the truth," thought he. Then he said, "Well, I will tell you the truth, that your brother may make his arrangements accordingly; you understand."

"No, doctor."

"Why, a duel is never a very agreeable thing to the king, and if it makes a scandal, he often banishes or imprisons the actors; but when death ensues, he is always inflexible. Therefore counsel your brother to hide for a time."

"Then," cried Andrée, "M. de Charny is – dangerously ill?"

"My dear young lady, if he is not out of danger by this time to-morrow, if before that time I cannot quell the fever that devours him, M. de Charny is a dead man."

Andrée bit her lips till the blood came, and clenched her hands till the nails stuck into the flesh, to stifle the cry that was ready to burst from her. Having conquered herself, she said, "My brother will not fly; he wounded M. de Charny in fair fight, and if he has killed him, he will take his chance."

The doctor was deceived. She did not come on her own account, he thought.

"How does the queen take it?" he asked.

"The queen? I know not. What is it to her?"

"But she likes your brother."

"Well, he is safe; and perhaps she will defend him if he is accused."

"Then, mademoiselle, you have learned what you wished. Let your brother fly, or not, as he pleases; that is your affair. Mine is to do the best to-night for the wounded man; without which, death will infallibly carry him off. Adieu."

Andrée fled back to her room, locked herself in, and falling on her knees by the side of her bed, "My God!" cried she, with a torrent of burning tears, "you will not leave this young man to die who has done no wrong, and who is so loved in this world. Oh! save him, that I may see a God of mercy, and not of vengeance." Her strength gave way, and she fell senseless on the floor. When her senses returned to her, her first muttered words were, "I love him! oh, I love him!"