The Queen's Necklace - Alexandre Dumas père (electric book reader TXT) 📗

of the weak. I implore you, with tearful eyes and joined hands, to be merciful towards those whom you pursue. I ask you to spare me the remorse of knowing you were acting against this poor queen, and not preventing you. I beg you to destroy this publication, which would make a woman shed tears. I ask you, by the love which you have guessed, or I swear that with this sword, which has proved so powerless against you, I will pierce myself before your eyes!"

"Ah!" murmured Cagliostro, "why are they not all like you? Then I would join them, and they should not perish."

"Monsieur, monsieur, I pray you to reply to me!"

"See, then," said Cagliostro, "if all the thousand numbers be there, and burn them yourself."

Philippe ran to the cabinet, took them out, and threw them on the fire. "Adieu, monsieur!" then he said; "a hundred thanks for the favor you have granted me."

"I owed the brother," said Cagliostro, when he had gone, "some compensation for all I made the sister endure."

Then he called for his carriage.


CHAPTER XXXIII.

THE HEAD OF THE TAVERNEY FAMILY.

While this was passing in the Rue St. Gilles, the elder M. Taverney was walking in his garden, followed by two footmen, who carried a chair, with which they approached him every five minutes, that he might rest. While doing so, a servant came to announce the chevalier.

"My son," said the old man, "come, Philippe, you arrive apropos--my heart is full of happy thoughts; but how solemn you look!"

"Do I, sir?"

"You know already the results of that affair?"

"What affair?"

The old man looked to see that no one was listening, then said, "I speak of the ball."

"I do not understand."

"Oh, the ball at the Opera."

Philippe colored.

"Sit down," continued his father; "I want to talk to you. It seems that you, so timid and delicate at first, now compromise her too much."

"Whom do you mean, sir?"

"Pardieu! do you think I am ignorant of your escapade, both together at the Opera ball? It was pretty."

"Sir, I protest----"

"Oh, do not be angry; I only mean to warn you for your good. You are not careful enough; you were seen there with her."

"I was seen?"

"Pardieu! had you, or not, a blue domino?"

Philippe was about to explain that he had not, and did not know what his father meant, but he thought to himself, "It is of no use to explain to him; he never believes me. Besides, I wish to learn more."

"You see," continued the old man, triumphantly, "you were recognized. Indeed, M. de Richelieu, who was at the ball in spite of his eighty-four years, wondered who the blue domino could be with whom the queen was walking, and he could only suspect you, for he knew all the others."

"And pray how does he say he recognized the queen?"

"Not very difficult, when she took her mask off. Such audacity as that surpasses all imagination; she must really be mad about you. But take care, chevalier; you have jealous rivals to fear; it is an envied post to be favorite of the queen, when the queen is the real king. Pardon my moralizing, but I do not wish that the breath of chance should blow down what you have reared so skilfully."

Philippe rose; the conversation was hateful to him, but a kind of savage curiosity impelled him to hear everything.

"We are already envied," continued the old man; "that is natural, but we have not yet attained the height to which we shall rise. To you will belong the glory of raising our name; and now you are progressing so well, only be prudent, or you will fail after all. Soon, however, you must ask for some high post, and obtain for me a lord-lieutenancy not too far from Paris. Then you can have a peerage, and become a duke and lieutenant-general. In two years, if I am still alive----"

"Enough, enough!" groaned Philippe.

"Oh, if you are satisfied with that, I am not. You have a whole life before you; I, perhaps, only a few months. However, I do not complain; God gave me two children, and if my daughter has been useless in repairing our fortunes, you will make up for it. I see in you the great Taverney, and you inspire me with respect, for your conduct has been admirable; you show no jealousy, but leave the field apparently open to every one, while you really hold it alone."

"I do not understand you," replied Philippe.

"Oh, no modesty; it was exactly the conduct of M. Potemkin, who astonished the world with his fortunes. He saw that Catherine loved variety in her amours; that, if left free, she would fly from flower to flower, returning always to the sweetest and most beautiful; but that, if pursued, she would fly right away. He took his part, therefore; he even introduced new favorites to his sovereign, to weary her out with their number; but through and after the quickly succeeding reigns of the twelve Caesars, as they were ironically called, Potemkin in reality was supreme."

"What incomprehensible infamies!" murmured poor Philippe. But the old man went on:

"According to his system, however, you have been still a little wrong. He never abandoned his surveillance, and you are too lax in this."

Philippe replied only by shrugging his shoulders. He really began to think his father was crazy.

"Ah! you thought I did not see your game. You are already providing a successor, for you have divined that there is no stability in the queen's amours, and in the event of her changing, you wish not to be quite thrown aside; therefore you make friends with M. de Charny, who might otherwise, when his turn comes, exile you, as you now might MM. de Coigny, Vaudreuil, and others."

Philippe, with an angry flush, said:

"Once more, enough; I am ashamed to have listened so long. Those who say that the Queen of France is a Messalina are criminal calumniators."

"I tell you," said the old man, "no one can hear, and I approve your plan. M. de Charny will repay your kindness some day."

"Your logic is admirable, sir; and M. de Charny is so much my favorite that I have just passed my sword through his ribs."

"What!" cried the old man, somewhat frightened at his son's flashing eyes, "you have not been fighting?"

"Yes, sir; that is my method of conciliating my successors. And he turned to go away.

"Philippe, you jest."

"I do not, sir."

The old man rose, and tottered off to the house.

"Quick," said he to the servant; "let a man on horseback go at once and ask after M. de Charny, who has been wounded, and let him be sure to say he comes from me." Then he murmured to himself, "Mine is still the only head in the family."


CHAPTER XXXIV.

THE STANZAS OF M. DE PROVENCE.

While these events were passing in Paris and in Versailles, the king, tranquil as usual, sat in his study, surrounded by maps and plans, and traced new paths for the vessels of La Perouse.

A slight knock at his door roused him from his study, and a voice said, "May I come in, brother?"

"The Comte de Provence," growled the king, discontentedly. "Enter."

A short person came in.

"You did not expect me, brother?" he said.

"No, indeed."

"Do I disturb you?"

"Have you anything particular to say?"

"Such a strange report----"

"Oh, some scandal?"

"Yes, brother."

"Which has amused you?"

"Because it is so strange."

"Something against me?"

"Should I laugh if it were?"

"Then against the queen?"

"Sire, imagine that I was told quite seriously that the queen slept out the other night."

"That would be very sad if it were true," replied the king.

"But it is not true, is it?"

"No."

"Nor that the queen was seen waiting outside the gate at the reservoirs?"

"No."

"The day, you know, that you ordered the gates to be shut at eleven o'clock?"

"I do not remember."

"Well, brother, they pretend that the queen was seen arm-in-arm with M. d'Artois at half-past twelve that night."

"Where?"

"Going to a house which he possesses behind the stables. Has not your majesty heard this report?"

"Yes, you took care of that."

"How, sire?--what have I done?"

"Some verses which were printed in the _Mercury_."

"Some verses!" said the count, growing red.

"Oh, yes; you are a favorite of the Muses."

"Not I, sire."

"Oh, do not deny it; I have the manuscript in your writing! Now, if you had informed yourself of what the queen really did that day, instead of writing these lines against her, and consequently against me, you would have written an ode in her favor. Perhaps the subject does not inspire you; but I should have liked a bad ode better than a good satire."

"Sire, you overwhelm me; but I trust you will believe I was deceived, and did not mean harm."

"Perhaps."

"Besides, I did not say I believed it; and then, a few verses are nothing. Now, a pamphlet like one I have just seen----"

"A pamphlet?"

"Yes, sire; and I want an order for the Bastile for the author of it."

The king rose. "Let me see it," he said.

"I do not know if I ought."

"Certainly you ought. Have you got it with you?"

"Yes, sire;" and he drew from his pocket "The History of the Queen Etteniotna," one of the fatal numbers which had escaped from Philippe and Charny.

The king glanced over it rapidly. "Infamous!" he cried.

"You see, sire, they pretend the queen went to M. Mesmer's."

"Well, she did go."

"She went?"

"Authorized by me."

"Oh, sire!"

"That is nothing against her; I gave my consent."

"Did your majesty intend that she should experimentalize on herself?"

The king stamped with rage as the count said this; he was reading one of the most insulting passages--the history of her contortions, voluptuous disorder, and the attention she had excited.

"Impossible!" he cried, growing pale; and he rang the bell. "Oh, the police shall deal with this! Fetch M. de Crosne."

"Sire, it is his day for coming here, and he is now waiting."

"Let him come in."

"Shall I go, brother?" said the count.

"No; remain. If the queen be guilty, you are one of the family, and must know it; if innocent, you, who have suspected her, must hear it."

M. de Crosne entered, and bowed, saying, "The report is ready, sire."

"First, sir," said the king, "explain how you allow such infamous publications against the queen."

"Etteniotna?" asked M. de Crosne.

"Yes."

"Well, sire, it is a man called Reteau."

"You know his name, and have not arrested him!"

"Sire, nothing is more easy. I have an order already prepared in my portfolio."

"Then why is it not done?"

M. de Crosne looked at the count.

"I see, M. de Crosne wishes me to leave," said he.

"No," replied the king, "remain. And you, M. de Crosne, speak freely."

"Well, sire, I wished first