But the king, turning towards him, said, "About a certain necklace, is it not, sir?"

M. de Rohan took advantage of the king's question, and chose the least of two evils. "Yes, sire," he murmured, "about the necklace."

"Then, sir, you have brought the necklace?"

"Sire----"

"Yes, or no, sir."

The cardinal looked at the queen, and did not reply.

"The truth, sir," said the queen, answering his look. "We want nothing but the truth."

M. de Rohan turned away his head, and did not speak.

"If M. de Rohan will not reply, will you, madame, explain?" said the king. "You must know something about it; did you buy it?"

"No."

M. de Rohan smiled rather contemptuously.

"You say nothing, sir," said the king.

"Of what am I accused, sire?"

"The jewelers say they sold the necklace either to you or the queen.

They show a receipt from her majesty----"

"A forged one," interrupted the queen.

"The jewelers," continued the king, "say that in case the queen does not pay, you are bound to do so by your engagements."

"I do not refuse to pay, sire. It must be the truth, as the queen permits it to be said." And a second look, still more contemptuous than the first, accompanied this speech.

The queen trembled, for she began to think his behavior like the indignation of an honest man.

"Well, M. le Cardinal, some one has imitated the signature of the Queen of France," said the king.

"The queen, sire, is free to attribute to me whatever crimes she pleases."

"Sir," said the king, "instead of justifying yourself, you a.s.sume the air of an accuser."

The cardinal paused a moment, and then cried, "Justify myself?--impossible!"

"Monsieur, these people say that this necklace has been stolen under a promise to pay for it; do you confess the crime?"

"Who would believe it, if I did?" asked the cardinal, with a haughty disdain.

"Then, sir, you think they will believe----"

"Sire, I know nothing of what is said," interrupted the cardinal; "all that I can affirm is, that I have not the necklace; some one has it who will not produce it; and I can but say, let the shame of the crime fall on the person who knows himself guilty."

"The question, madame, is between you two," said the king. "Once more, have you the necklace?"

"No, by the honor of my mother, by the life of my son."

The king joyfully turned towards the cardinal. "Then, sir, the affair lies between you and justice, unless you prefer trusting to my clemency."

"The clemency of kings is for the guilty, sire; I prefer the justice of men!"

"You will confess nothing?"

"I have nothing to say."

"But, sir, your silence compromises my honor," cried the queen.

The cardinal did not speak.

"Well, then, I will speak," cried she. "Learn, sire, that M. de Rohan's chief crime is not the theft of this necklace."

M. de Rohan turned pale.

"What do you mean?" cried the king.

"Madame!" murmured the cardinal.

"Oh! no reasons, no fear, no weakness shall close my mouth. I would proclaim my innocence in public if necessary."

"Your innocence," said the king. "Oh, madame, who would be rash enough, or base enough, to compel you to defend that?"

"I beg you, madame," said the cardinal.

"Ah! you begin to tremble. I was right: such plots bear not the light.

Sire, will you order M. de Rohan to repeat to you what he has just said to me."

"Madame," cried the cardinal, "take care; you pa.s.s all bounds."

"Sir," said the king, "do you dare to speak thus to the queen?"

"Yes, sire," said Marie Antoinette; "this is the way he speaks to me, and pretends he has the right to do so."

"You, sir!" cried the king, livid with rage.

"Oh! he says he has letters----"

"Let us see them, sir," said the king.

"Yes, produce them," cried the queen.