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

from the table, and showed her the following words, addressed to himself:

"MONSIEUR, and my generous protector, forgive me for leaving you; but above all things I love M. Beausire. He came and I follow him. Adieu! Believe in my gratitude!"

"Beausire!" cried Jeanne, petrified; "he, who did not even know her address?"

"Oh, madame, here is another paper, which was doubtless dropped by M. Beausire." The countess read, shuddering:


"M. Beausire will find Mademoiselle Oliva, Rue St. Claude, at the
corner of the boulevard. He had better come for her at once; it is
time. This is the advice of a sincere friend."


"Oh!" groaned the countess.

"And he has taken her away," said Cagliostro.

"But who wrote this note?"

"Doubtless yourself."

"But how did he get in?"

"Probably with your key."

"But as I have it here, he could not have it."

"Whoever has one can easily have two."

"You are convinced," replied she, "while I can only suspect." She turned and went away, but found the staircase lighted and filled with men-servants. Cagliostro called out loudly before them, "Madame la Comtesse de la Motte!" She went out full of rage and disappointment.


CHAPTER LXXII.

THE LETTER AND THE RECEIPT.

The day arrived for the payment of the first 500,000 francs. The jewelers had prepared a receipt, but no one came with the money in exchange for it. They passed the day and night in a state of cruel anxiety. The following day M. Boehmer went to Versailles, and asked to see the queen; he was told that he could not be admitted without a letter of audience. However, he begged so hard, and urged his solicitations so well among the servants, that they consented to place him in the queen's way when she went out. Marie Antoinette, still full of joy from her interview with Charny, came along, looking bright and happy, when she caught sight of the somewhat solemn face of M. Boehmer. She smiled on him, which he took for a favorable sign, and asked for an audience, which was promised him for two o'clock. On his return to Bossange, they agreed that no doubt the money was all right, only the queen had been unable to send it the day before. At two o'clock Boehmer returned to Versailles.

"What is it now, M. Boehmer?" asked the queen, as he entered. Boehmer thought some one must be listening, and looked cautiously around him.

"Have you any secret to tell?" asked the queen, in surprise. "The same as before, I suppose--some jewels to sell. But make yourself easy; no one can hear you."

"Ahem!" murmured Boehmer, startled at his reception.

"Well, what?"

"Then I may speak out to your majesty?"

"Anything; only be quick."

"I only wished to say that your majesty probably forgot us yesterday."

"Forgot you! what do you mean?"

"Yesterday the sum was due----"

"What sum?"

"Pardon me, your majesty, if I am indiscreet. Perhaps your majesty is not prepared. It would be a misfortune; but still----"

"But," interrupted the queen, "I do not understand a word of what you are saying. Pray explain yourself."

"Yesterday the first payment for the necklace was due."

"Have you sold it, then?"

"Certainly, your majesty," replied Boehmer, looking stupefied.

"And those to whom you have sold it have not paid, my poor Boehmer? So much the worse; but they must do as I did, and, if they cannot pay, send it you back again."

The jeweler staggered like a man who had just had a sunstroke. "I do not understand your majesty," he said.

"Why, Boehmer, if ten purchasers were each to send it back, and give you 100,000 francs, as I did, you would make a million, and keep your necklace also."

"Your majesty says," cried Boehmer, ready to drop, "that you sent me back the necklace!"

"Certainly. What is the matter?"

"What! your majesty denies having bought the necklace?"

"Ah! what comedy is this, sir?" said the queen, severely. "Is this unlucky necklace destined to turn some one's brain?"

"But did your majesty really say that you had returned the necklace?"

"Happily," replied the queen, "I can refresh your memory, as you are so forgetful, to say nothing more." She went to her secretaire, and, taking out the receipt, showed it to him, saying, "I suppose this is clear enough?"

Boehmer's expression changed from incredulity to terror. "Madame," cried he, "I never signed this receipt!"

"You deny it!" said the queen, with flashing eyes.

"Positively, if I lose my life for it. I never received the necklace; I never signed the receipt. Were the headsman here, or the gallows, I would repeat the same thing!"

"Then, sir," said the queen, "do you think I have robbed you? do you think I have your necklace?"

Boehmer drew out a pocket-book, and in his turn produced a letter. "I do not believe," said he, "that if your majesty had wished to return the necklace, you would have written this."

"I write! I never wrote to you; that is not my writing."

"It is signed," said Boehmer.

"Yes, 'Marie Antoinette of France.' You are mad! Do you think that is the way I sign? I am of Austria. Go, M. Boehmer; you have played this game unskilfully; your forgers have not understood their work."

"My forgers!" cried the poor Boehmer, ready to faint at this new blow. "You suspect me?"

"You accuse me, Marie Antoinette?" replied she.

"But this letter?"

"This receipt? Give it me back, and take your letter; the first lawyer you ask will tell you how much that is worth." And taking the receipt from his trembling hands, and throwing the letter indignantly down, she left the room.

The unfortunate man ran to communicate this dreadful blow to his partner, who was waiting in the carriage for him; and on their way home their gestures and cries of grief were so frantic as to attract the attention of every passer-by. At last they decided to return to Versailles.

Immediately they presented themselves they were admitted by the order of the queen.


CHAPTER LXXIII.

"Roi ne puis, prince ne daigne, Rohan je suis."[B]

[B] The motto of the Rohans.

"Ah!" cried the queen, immediately they entered, "you have brought a reinforcement, M. Boehmer; so much the better."

Boehmer kneeled at her feet, and Bossange followed his example.

"Gentlemen," said she, "I have now grown calm, and an idea has come into my head which has modified my opinion with regard to you. It seems to me that we have both been duped."

"Ah, madame, you suspect me no longer. Forger was a dreadful word."

"No, I do not suspect you now."

"Does your majesty suspect any one else?"

"Reply to my questions. You say you have not these diamonds?"

"No, madame, we have not."

"It then matters little to you that I sent them--that is my affair. Did you not see Madame de la Motte?"

"Yes, madame."

"And she gave you nothing from me?"

"No, madame; she only said to us, 'Wait.'"

"But this letter--who brought it?"

"An unknown messenger, during the night."

She rang, and a servant entered.

"Send for Madame de la Motte. And," continued the queen to M. Boehmer, "did you see M. de Rohan?"

"Yes, madame; he paid us a visit in order to ask."

"Good!" said the queen. "I wish to hear no more now; but if he be mixed up with this affair, I think you need not despair. I think I can guess what Madame de la Motte meant by saying 'Wait.' Meanwhile, go to M. de Rohan, and tell him all you have told us, and that I know it."

The jewelers had a renewed spark of hope; only Bossange said that the receipt was a false one, and that that was a crime.

"True," replied Marie Antoinette, "if you did not write it, it is a crime; but to prove this I must confront you with the person whom I charged to return you the jewels."

"Whenever your majesty pleases; we do not fear the test."

"Go first to M. de Rohan; he alone can enlighten you."

"And will your majesty permit us to bring you his answer?"

"Yes; but I dare say I shall know all before you do."

When they were gone she was restless and unquiet, and despatched courier after courier for Madame de la Motte.

We will, however, leave her for the present, and follow the jewelers in their search after the truth.

The cardinal was at home, reading, with a rage impossible to describe, a little note which Madame de la Motte had just sent him, as she said, from Versailles. It was harsh, forbidding any hope, ordering him to think no more of the past, not to appear again at Versailles, and ending with an appeal to his loyalty not to attempt to renew relations which were become impossible.

"Coquette, capricious, perfidious!" cried he. "Here are four letters which she has written to me, each more unjust and tyrannical than the other. She encouraged me only for a caprice, and now sacrifices me to a new one."

It was at this moment that the jewelers presented themselves. Three times he refused them admittance, and each time the servant came back, saying that they would not go without an audience. "Let them come in, then," said he.

"What means this rudeness, gentlemen? No one owes you anything here."

The jewelers, driven to despair, made a half-menacing gesture.

"Are you mad?" asked the cardinal.

"Monseigneur," replied Boehmer, with a sigh, "do us justice, and do not compel us to be rude to an illustrious prince."

"Either you are not mad, in which case my servants shall throw you out of the window; or you are mad, and they shall simply push you out of the door."

"Monseigneur, we are not mad, but we have been robbed."

"What is that to me? I am not lieutenant of police."

"But you have had the necklace in your hands, and in justice----"

"The necklace! is it the necklace that is stolen?"

"Yes, monseigneur."

"Well, what does the queen say about it?"

"She sent me to you."

"She is very amiable; but what can I do, my poor fellows?"

"You can tell us, monseigneur, what has been done with it."

"I?"

"Doubtless."

"Do you think I stole the necklace from the queen?"

"It is not the queen from whom it was stolen."

"Mon Dieu! from whom, then?"

"The queen denies having had it in her possession."

"How! she denies it? But I thought you had an acknowledgment from her."

"She says it is a forged one."

"Decidedly, you are mad!" cried the cardinal.

"We simply speak the truth."

"Then she denied it because some one was there."

"No, monseigneur. And this is not all: not only does the queen deny her own acknowledgment, but she produced a receipt from us, purporting that we had received back the necklace."

"A receipt from you?"

"Which also is a forgery, M. le Cardinal--you know it."

"A forgery, and I know it!"

"Assuredly, for you came to confirm what Madame