THE PROCÈS-VERBAL.
When the king reentered his room he signed the order to consign M. de
Rohan to the Bastile. The Count de Provence soon came in and began
making a series of signs to M. de Breteuil, who, however willing, could
not understand their meaning. This, however, the count did not care
for, as his sole object was to attract the king’s attention. He at last
succeeded, and the king, after dismissing M. de Breteuil, said to him,
“What was the meaning of all those signs you were making just now? I
suppose they meant something.”
“Undoubtedly, but——”
“Oh, you are quite free to say or not.”
“Sire, I have just heard of the arrest of M. de Rohan.”
“Well, and what then? Am I wrong to do justice even on him?”
“Oh no, brother; I did not mean that.”
“I should have been surprised had you not taken part somehow against
the queen. I have just seen her, and am quite satisfied.”
“Oh, sire, God forbid that I should accuse her! The queen has no friend
more devoted than myself.”
“Then you approve of my proceedings? which will, I trust, terminate all
the scandals which have lately disgraced our court.”
“Yes, sire, I entirely approve your majesty’s conduct, and I think all
is for the best as regards the necklace——”
“Pardieu, it is clear enough. M. de Rohan has been making himself great
on a pretended familiarity with the queen; and conducting in her name a
bargain for the diamonds, and leaving it to be supposed that she had
them. It is monstrous. And then these tales never stop at the truth,
but add all sorts of dreadful details which would end in a frightful
scandal on the queen.”
“Yes, brother, I repeat as far as the necklace is concerned you were
perfectly right.”
“What else is there, then?”
“Sire, you embarrass me. The queen has not, then, told you?”
“Oh, the other boastings of M. de Rohan? The pretended correspondence
and interviews he speaks of? All that I know is, that I have the most
absolute confidence in the queen, which she merits by the nobleness of
her character. It was easy for her to have told me nothing of all this;
but she always makes an immediate appeal to me in all difficulties, and
confides to me the care of her honor. I am her confessor and her
judge.”
“Sire, you make me afraid to speak, lest I should be again accused of
want of friendship for the queen. But it is right that all should be
spoken, that she may justify herself from the other accusations.”
“Well, what have you to say?”
“Let me first hear what she told you?”
“She said she had not the necklace; that she never signed the receipt
for the jewels; that she never authorized M. de Rohan to buy them; that
she had never given him the right to think himself more to her than any
other of her subjects; and that she was perfectly indifferent to him.”
“Ah! she said that——?”
“Most decidedly.”
“Then these rumors about other people——”
“What others?”
“Why, if it were not M. de Rohan, who walked with the queen——”
“How! do they say he walked with her?”
“The queen denies it, you say? but how came she to be in the park at
night, and with whom did she walk?”
“The queen in the park at night!”
“Doubtless, there are always eyes ready to watch every movement of a
queen.”
“Brother, these are infamous things that you repeat, take care.”
“Sire, I openly repeat them, that your majesty may search out the
truth.”
“And they say that the queen walked at night in the park?”
“Yes, sire, tête-à-tête.”
“I do not believe any one says it.”
“Unfortunately I can prove it but too well. There are four witnesses:
one is the captain of the hunt, who says he saw the queen go out two
following nights by the door near the kennel of the wolf-hounds; here
is his declaration signed.”
The king, trembling, took the paper.
“The next is the night watchman at Trianon, who says he saw the queen
walking arm in arm with a gentleman. The third is the porter of the
west door, who also saw the queen going through the little gate; he
states how she was dressed, but that he could not recognize the
gentleman, but thought he looked like an officer; he says he could not
be mistaken, for that the queen was accompanied by her friend, Madame
de la Motte.”
“Her friend!” cried the king, furiously.
“The last is from the man whose duty it is to see that all the doors
are locked at night. He says that he saw the queen go into the baths of
Apollo with a gentleman.”
The king, pale with anger and emotion, snatched the paper from the
hands of his brother.
“It is true,” continued the count, “that Madame de la Motte was
outside, and that the queen did not remain more than an hour.”
“The name of the gentleman?” cried the king.
“This report does not name him; but here is one dated the next day, by
a forester, who says it was M. de Charny.”
“M. de Charny!” cried the king. “Wait here; I will soon learn the truth
of all this.”