"That the queen went in a common dress, in the middle of this crowd, and alone."

"Alone!" cried the king.

"Yes, sire."

"You are deceived, M. de Crosne."

"I do not think so, sire."

"You have bad reporters, sir."

"So exact, that I can give your majesty a description of her dress, of all her movements, of her cries----"

"Her cries!"

"Even her sighs were observed, sire."

"It is impossible she could have so far forgotten what is due to me and to herself."

"Oh, yes," said the Comte de Provence; "her majesty is surely incapable----"

Louis XVI. interrupted him. "Sir," said he, to M. de Crosne, "you maintain what you have said?"

"Unhappily, yes, sire."

"I will examine into it further," said the king, pa.s.sing his handkerchief over his forehead, on which the drops hung from anxiety and vexation. "I did permit the queen to go, but I ordered her to take with her a person safe, irreproachable, and even holy."

"Ah," said M. de Crosne, "if she had but done so----"

"Yes," said the count; "if a lady like Madame de Lamballe for instance----"

"It was precisely she whom the queen promised to take."

"Unhappily, sire, she did not do so."

"Well," said the king, with agitation; "if she has disobeyed me so openly I ought to punish, and I will punish; only some doubts still remain on my mind; these doubts you do not share; that is natural; you are not the king, husband, and friend of her whom they accuse. However, I will proceed to clear the affair up." He rang. "Let some one see,"

said he to the person who came, "where Madame de Lamballe is."

"Sire, she is walking in the garden with her majesty and another lady."

"Beg her to come to me. Now, gentlemen, in ten minutes we shall know the truth."

All were silent.

M. de Crosne was really sad, and the count put on an affectation of it which might have solemnized Momus himself.

CHAPTER x.x.xV.

THE PRINCESS DE LAMBALLE.

The Princesse de Lamballe entered beautiful and calm. Her hair drawn back from her n.o.ble forehead, her dark penciled eyebrows, her clear blue eyes and beautiful lips, and her unrivaled figure, formed a lovely tout ensemble. She seemed always surrounded by an atmosphere of virtue and grace.

The king looked at her with a troubled expression, dreading what he was about to hear; then bowing, said, "Sit down, princess."

"What does your majesty desire?" asked she, in a sweet voice.

"Some information, princess: what day did you last go with the queen to Paris?"

"Wednesday, sire."

"Pardon me, cousin," said Louis XVI.; "but I wish to know the exact truth."

"You will never hear anything else from me, sire."

"What did you go there for?"

"I went to M. Mesmer's, Place Vendome."

The two witnesses trembled. The king colored with delight.

"Alone?" asked the king.

"No, sire; with the queen."

"With the queen?" cried Louis, seizing her hand.

"Yes, sire."

M. de Provence and M. de Crosne looked stupefied.

"Your majesty had authorized the queen to go; at least, so she told me,"

continued the princess.

"It was true, cousin: gentlemen, I breathe again; Madame de Lamballe never tells a falsehood."

"Never, sire."

"Oh, never, sire," said M. de Crosne, with perfect sincerity. "But will you permit me, sire?"

"Certainly, monsieur; question, search as much as you please; I place the princess at your disposal."

Madame de Lamballe smiled. "I am ready," she said.

"Madame," said the lieutenant of police, "have the goodness to tell his majesty what you did there, and how the queen was dressed."