"Your majesty, Bohmer has, in the mean while, believed it, and has delivered the necklace to the cardinal, and received the queen's promise to pay, written with her own hand."
"Who says that? How do you know all the details?"
"Sire, I know it by a paper of Bohmer's, who wrote to me after trying in vain several times to see me. The letter was a tolerably confused one, and I did not understand it. But as he stated in it that the queen's lady-in-waiting advised him to apply to me as the minister of the royal house, I considered it best to speak with Madame de Campan. What I learned of her is so important that I begged her to accompany me to Trianon, and to repeat her statement before your majesty."
"Is Campan then in Trianon?" asked the king.
"Yes, sire; and on our arrival we learned that Bohmer had just been there, and was most anxious to speak to the queen. He had been denied admission as always, and had gone away weeping and scolding."
"Come," said the king, "let us go to Trianon; I want to speak with Campan."
And with quick, rapid steps the king, followed by the minister Breteuil, left the mill, and shunning the main road in order not to be seen by the queen, struck into the little side-path that led thither behind the houses.
"Campan," said the king, hastily entering the little toilet-room of the queen, where the lady-in-waiting was--"Campan, the minister has just been telling me a singular and incredible history. Yet repeat to me your last conversation with Bohmer."
"Sire," replied Madame de Campan, bowing low, "does your majesty command that I speak before the queen knows of the matter?"
"Ah," said the king, turning to the minister, "you see I am right.
The queen knows nothing of this, else she would certainly have spoken to me about it. Thank God, the queen withholds no secrets from me! I thank you for your question, Campan. It is better that the queen be present at our interview. I will send for her to come here." And the king hastened to the door, opened it, and called, "Are any of the queen's servants here?"
The voice of the king was so loud and violent that the chamberlain, Weber, who was in the little outer antechamber, heard it, and at once rushed in.
"Weber," cried the king to him, "hasten at once to Little Trianon.
Beg the queen, in my name, to have the goodness to come to the palace within a quarter of an hour, to consult about a weighty matter that allows no delay. But take care that the queen be not alarmed, and that she do not suspect that sad news has come regarding her family. Hasten, Weber! And now, baron," continued the king, closing the door, "now you shall be convinced by your own eyes and ears that the queen will be as amazed and as little acquainted with all these things as I myself. I wish, therefore, that you would be present at the interview which I shall have with my wife and Campan, without the queen's knowing that you are near. You will be convinced at once in this way of the impudent and shameless deception that they have dared to play. Where does that door lead to, Campan?" asked the king, pointing to the white, gold-bordered door, at whose side two curtains of white satin, wrought with roses, were secured.
"Sire, it leads to the small reception room."
"Will the queen pass that way when she comes?"
"No, your majesty, she is accustomed to take the same way which your majesty took, through the antechamber."
"Good. Then, baron, go into the little saloon. Leave the door open, and do you, Campan, loosen the curtains and let them fall over the door, that the minister may hear without being seen."
A quarter of an hour had scarcely elapsed when the queen entered the toilet-chamber, with glowing cheeks, and under visible excitement.
The king went hastily to her, took her hand and pressed it to his lips.
"Forgiveness, Marie, that I have disturbed you in the midst of your pleasures."
"Tell me, quickly," cried the queen, impatiently. "What is it? Is it a great misfortune?"
"No, Marie, but a great annoyance, which is so far a misfortune in that the name of your majesty is involved in a disagreeable and absurd plot. The court jeweller, Bohmer, asserts that he has sold a necklace to your majesty for one million eight hundred thousand francs."
"But the man is crazy," cried the queen. "Is that all your majesty had to say to me?"
"I beg that Campan will repeat the conversation which she had yesterday with Bohmer."
And the king beckoned with his hand to the lady-in-waiting, who, at the entrance of the queen, had modestly taken her seat at the back part of the room.
"How!" cried the queen, amazed, now first perceiving Campan. "What do you here? What does all this mean?"
"Your majesty, I came to Trianon to inform you about the conversation which I had yesterday with Bohmer. When I arrived I found he had just been here."
"And what did he want?" cried the queen. "Did you not tell me, Campan, that he no longer possesses this unfortunate necklace, with which he has been making a martyr of me for years? Did you not tell me that he had sold it to the Grand Sultan, to go to Constantinople?"
"I repeated to your majesty what Bohmer said to me. Meanwhile I beg now your gracious permission to repeat my to-day's interview with Bohmer. Directly after your majesty had gone to Trianon with the Duchess de Polignac, the court jeweller Bohmer was announced. He came with visible disquiet and perplexity, and asked me whether your majesty had left no commission for him. I answered him that the queen had not done so, that in one word she had no commission for him, and that she was tired of his eternal pestering. ' But,' said Bohmer, 'I must have an answer to the letter that I sent to her, and to whom must I apply?' 'To nobody,' I answered. 'Her majesty has burned your letter without reading it.' 'Ah! madame,' cried he, 'that is impossible. The queen knows that she owes me money.' "
"I owe him money!" cried the queen, horrified. "How can the miserable man dare to assert such a thing?"