THE QUEEN.
The queen, after leaving the king, felt deeply the danger she had been
so nearly incurring. She was therefore pleased with Jeanne, who had
been the means of preventing it, and said to her, with a gracious
smile:
“It is really fortunate, madame, that you prevented my prolonging my
stay at M. Mesmer’s, for only think, they have taken advantage of my
being there to say that I was under the influence of the magnetism.”
“But,” said Madame de Lamballe, “it is very strange that the police
should have been so deceived, and have affirmed that they saw the queen
in the inner room.”
“It is strange,” said the queen; “and M. de Crosne is an honest man,
and would not willingly injure me; but his agents may have been bought.
I have enemies, dear Lamballe. Still there must have been some
foundation for this tale. This infamous libel represents me as
intoxicated, and overcome to such a degree by the magnetic fluid, that
I lost all control over myself, and all womanly reserve. Did any such
scene take place, Madame la Comtesse? Was there any one who behaved
like this?”
Jeanne colored; the secret once told, she lost all the fatal influence
which she could now exercise over the queen’s destiny; therefore she
again resolved to keep silent on this point.
“Madame,” said she, “there was a woman much agitated who attracted
great attention by her contortions and cries.”
“Probably some actress or loose character.”
“Possibly, madame.”
“Countess, you replied very well to the king, and I will not forget
you. How have you advanced in your own affairs?”
At this moment Madame de Misery came in, to say that Mademoiselle de
Taverney wished to know if her majesty would receive her.
“Assuredly,” said the queen. “How ceremonious you always are, Andrée;
why do you stand so much upon etiquette?”
“Your majesty is too good to me.”
Madame de Lamballe now availed herself of Andrée’s entrance to take
leave.
“Well, Andrée,” the queen then said, “here is this lady whom we went to
see the other day.”
“I recognize madame,” said Andrée, bowing.
“Do you know what they have been saying of me?”
“Yes, madame; M. de Provence has been repeating the story.”
“Oh! no doubt; therefore we will leave that subject. Countess, we were
speaking of you—who protects you now?”
“You, madame,” replied Jeanne, boldly, “since you permit me to come and
kiss your hand. Few people,” she continued, “dared to protect me when I
was in obscurity; now that I have been seen with your majesty, every
one will be anxious to do so.”
“Then,” said the queen, “no one has been either brave enough or corrupt
enough to protect you for yourself?”
“I had first Madame de Boulainvilliers, a brave protector; then her
husband, a corrupt one; but since my marriage no one. Oh yes, I forget
one brave man—a generous prince.”
“Prince, countess! who is it?”
“Monsieur the Cardinal de Rohan.”
“My enemy,” said the queen, smiling.
“Your enemy! Oh, madame!”
“It seems you are astonished that a queen should have an enemy. It is
evident you have not lived at court.”
“But, madame, he adores you. The devotion of the cardinal equals his
respect for you.”
“Oh, doubtless,” said the queen, with a hearty laugh; “that is why he
is my enemy.”
Jeanne looked surprised.
“And you are his protégée,” continued the queen; “tell me all about
it.”
“It is very simple; his eminence has assisted me in the most generous,
yet the most considerate, manner.”
“Good; Prince Louis is generous; no one can deny that. But do you not
think, Andrée, that M. le Cardinal also adores this pretty countess a
little? Come, countess, tell us.” And Marie Antoinette laughed again in
her frank, joyous manner.
“All this gaiety must be put on,” thought Jeanne. So she answered, in a
grave tone, “Madame, I have the honor to affirm to your majesty that M.
de Rohan——”
“Well, since you are his friend, ask him what he did with some hair of
mine which he bribed a certain hair-dresser to steal; and which trick
cost the poor man dear, for he lost my custom.”
“Your majesty surprises me; M. de Rohan did that?”
“Oh, yes; all his adoration, you know. After having hated me at Vienna,
and having employed every means to try and prevent my marriage, he at
last began to perceive that I was a woman, and his queen, and that he
had offended me forever. Then this dear prince began to fear for his
future, and, like all of his profession, who seem most fond of those
whom they most fear, and as he knew me young and believed me foolish
and vain, he turned—he became a professed admirer, and began with sighs
and glances. He adores me, does he not, Andrée?”
“Madame!”
“Oh! Andrée will not compromise herself, but I say what I please; at
least I may have that advantage from being a queen. So it is a settled
thing that the cardinal adores me, and you may tell him, countess, that
he has my permission.”
Jeanne, instead of seeing in all this only the angry disdain of a noble
character, which she was incapable of appreciating, thought it all
pique against M. de Rohan, hiding another feeling for him, and
therefore began to defend him with all her eloquence.
The queen listened.
“Good! she listens,” thought Jeanne, and did not again understand that
she listened through generosity, and through pleasure at anything so
novel as to hear any person defend one of whom the sovereign chose to
speak ill, and felt pleased with her, thinking she saw a heart where
none was placed.
All at once a joyous voice was heard near, and the queen said, “Here is
the Comte d’Artois.”
When he entered, the queen introduced the countess to him.
“Pray do not let me send you away, Madame la Comtesse,” said he, as
Jeanne made a move to depart.
The queen also requested her to stay. “You have returned from the
wolf-hunt, then?” she said.
“Yes, sister, and have had good sport; I have killed seven. I am not
sure,” continued he, laughing, “but they say so. However, do you know I
have gained seven hundred francs?”
“How?”
“Why, they pay a hundred francs a head for these beasts. It is dear,
but I would give two hundred of them just now for the head of a certain
journalist.”
“Ah! you know the story?”
“M. de Provence told me.”
“He is indefatigable. But tell me how he related it.”
“So as to make you whiter than snow, or Venus Aphroditus. It seems you
came out of it gloriously; you are fortunate.”
“Oh, you call that fortunate. Do you hear him, Andrée?”
“Yes, for you might have gone alone, without Madame de Lamballe; and
you might not have had Madame de la Motte there to stop your entrance.”
“Ah! you know that too?”
“Oh yes; the count told everything. Then you might not have had Madame
de la Motte at hand to give her testimony. You will tell me, doubtless,
that virtue and innocence are like the violet which does not require to
be seen in order to be recognized; but still I say you are fortunate.”
“Badly proved.”
“I will prove it still better. Saved so well from the unlucky scrape of
the cabriolet, saved from this affair, and then the ball,” whispered he
in her ear.
“What ball?”
“The ball at the Opera.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean the ball at the Opera; but I beg pardon, I should not have
mentioned it.”
“Really, brother, you puzzle me; I know nothing about the ball at the
Opera.”
The words “ball” and “Opera” caught Jeanne’s ear, and she listened
intently.
“I am dumb,” said the prince.
“But, count, I insist on knowing what it means.”
“Oh, pray allow me to let it drop.”
“Do you want to disoblige me?”
“No, sister; but I have said quite enough for you to understand.”
“You have told me nothing.”
“Oh, sister, it is needless with me.”
“But really I am in earnest.”
“You wish me to speak?”
“Immediately.”
“Not here,” said he, looking at the others.
“Yes, here; there cannot be too many at such an explanation.”
“Then you mean to say you were not at the last ball?”
“I!” cried the queen, “at the ball at the Opera?”
“Hush, I beg.”
“No, I will not hush; I will speak it aloud. You say I was at the
ball?”
“Certainly I do.”
“Perhaps you saw me?” she said ironically.
“Yes, I did.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you.”
“Oh, it is too much! Why did you not speak to me?”
“Ma foi! I was just going to do so, when the crowd separated us.”
“You are mad!”
“I should not have spoken of it. I have been very foolish.”
The queen rose, and walked up and down the room in great agitation.
Andrée trembled with fear and disquietude, and Jeanne could hardly keep
from laughing.
Then the queen stopped, and said:
“My friend, do not jest any more; you see, I am so passionate that I
have lost my temper already. Tell me at once that you were joking with
me.”
“I will, if you please, sister.”
“Be serious, Charles. You have invented all this, have you not?”
He winked at the ladies, and said, “Oh, yes, of course.”
“You do not understand me, brother!” cried the queen vehemently. “Say
yes or no. Do not tell falsehoods; I only want the truth!”
“Well, then, sister,” said he, in a low voice, “I have told the truth,
but I am sorry I spoke.”
“You saw me there?”
“As plain as I see you now; and you saw me.”
The queen uttered a cry, and, running up to Andrée and Jeanne, cried,
“Ladies, M. le Comte d’Artois affirms that he saw me at the ball at the
Opera; let him prove it.”
“Well,” said he, “I was with M. de Richelieu and others, when your mask
fell off.”
“My mask!”
“I was about to say, ‘This is too rash, sister,’ but the gentleman with
you drew you away so quickly.”
“Oh, mon Dieu! you will drive me mad! What gentleman?”
“The blue domino.”
The queen passed her hand over her eyes.
“What day was this?” she asked.
“Saturday. The next day I set off to hunt, before you were up.”
“What time do you say you saw me?”
“Between two and three.”
“Decidedly one of us is mad!”
“Oh, it is I. It is all a mistake. Do not be so afraid; there is no
harm done. At first I thought you were with the king; but the blue
domino spoke German, and he does not.”
“Well, brother, on Saturday I went to bed at eleven.”
The count bowed, with an incredulous smile.
The queen rang. “Madame de Misery shall tell you.”
“Why do you not call Laurent also?” said he, laughing.
“Oh!” cried the queen in a rage, “not to be believed!”
“My dear sister, if I believed you, others would not.”
“What others?”
“Those who saw you as well as myself.”
“Who were they?”
“M. Philippe de Taverney, for instance.”
“My brother?” cried Andrée.
“Yes; shall we ask him?”
“Immediately.”
“Mon Dieu!” murmured Andrée, “my brother a witness!”
“Yes; I wish it;” and she went to seek him at his father’s.
He was just leaving, after the scene we have described with his father,
when the messenger met him. He came quickly, and Marie Antoinette
turned to him at once.
“Sir,” said she, “are you capable of speaking the truth?”
“Incapable of anything else, madame.”
“Well, then, say frankly, have you seen me at any public place within
the last week?”
“Yes, madame.”
All hearts beat so that you might have heard them.
“Where?” said the queen, in a terrible voice.
Philippe was silent.
“Oh, no concealment, sir! My brother says you saw me at the ball of the
Opera.”
“I did, madame.”
The queen sank on a sofa; then, rising furiously, she said:
“It is impossible, for I was not there! Take care, M. de Taverney!”
“Your majesty,” said Andrée, pale with anger, “if my brother says he
saw you, he did see you.”
“You also!” cried Marie Antoinette; “it only remains now for you to
have seen me. Pardieu! my enemies overwhelm me.”
“When I saw that the blue domino was not the king,” said the Comte
d’Artois, “I believed him to be that nephew of M. de Suffren whom you
received so well here the other night.”
The queen colored.
“Did it not look something like his tournure, M. de Taverney?”
continued the count.
“I did not remark, monseigneur,” said he, in a choking voice.
“But I soon found out that it was not he; for suddenly I saw him before
me, and he was close by you when your mask fell off.”
“So he saw me too?”
“If he were not blind, he did.”
The queen rang.
“What are you about to do?”
“Send for him also, and ask. I will drain this cup to the dregs!”
“I do not think he can come,” said Philippe.
“Why?”
“Because I believe he is not well.”
“Oh, he must come, monsieur! I am not well either, but I would go to
the end of the world barefoot to prove——”
All at once Andrée, who was near the window, uttered an exclamation.
“What is it?” cried the queen.
“Oh, nothing; only here comes M. de Charny.”
The queen, in her excitement, ran to the window, opened it, and cried,
“M. de Charny!”
He, full of astonishment, hastened to enter.