A murmur of applause and of astonishment rose at these words from the spectators, comprising some of the greatest noble families of France, the Rohans, the Guemenes, the Count de Vergennes, and all the most powerful enemies of the queen, who had taken advantage of this occasion in order to avenge themselves on the Austrian, who had dared to choose her friends and select her society, not in accordance with lineage, but as her own pleasure dictated.
The president of the court did not consider this murmur of applause marked enough to be reprimanded, and let it be continued.
"And did the Countess Lamotte-Valois procure for you this audience?" he then asked.
Prince Rohan was silent a moment, his face grew pale, his features assumed for the first time a troubled expression, and the painful struggles which disturbed his soul could be seen working within him.
"May it please this noble court," he replied, after a pause, with feeling, trembling voice, "I feel at this moment that, beneath the robe of the priest, the heart of the man beats yet. It is, however, for every man a wrong, an unpardonable wrong, to disclose the confidence of a lady, and to reveal to the open light of day the favors which have been granted by her. But I must take this crime upon myself, because I have to defend the honor of a priest, even of a dignitary in the Church, and also because I do not dare to suffer my purple to be soiled with even the suspicion of a lie, or an act of falsehood. It may be--and I fear it even myself--it may be, that in this matter, I myself was the deceived one, but I dare not bring suspicion upon my tiara that I was the deceiver, and, therefore, I have to meet the stern necessity of disclosing the secret of a lady and a queen."
"Besides this," said the president, solemnly--"besides this, your eminence may graciously consider, in presence of the authority given you by God, all the tender thoughts of the cardinal must be silent.
The duty of a dignitary of the Church commands you to go before all other men in setting them a noble example, and one worthy of imitation. It is your sacred duty, in accordance with the demands of truth, to give the most detailed information regarding every thing that concerns this affair, and your eminence will have the goodness to remember that we are the secular priests of God, before whom every accused person must confess the whole truth with a perfect conscience."
"I thank you, Mr. President," said the cardinal, with so gentle and tremulous a voice, that you might hear after it a faint sob from some deeply-veiled ladies who sat on the spectators' seats, and so that even the eyes of President de l'Aigro filled with tears--" I thank you, Mr. President," repeated the cardinal, breathing more freely. "You take a heavy burden from my heart, and your wisdom instructs me as to my own duty."
The president blushed with pleasure at the high praises of the cardinal.
"And now," he said, "I take the liberty of repeating my question, did the Countess Lamotte-Valois succeed in procuring for your eminence a secret audience with the queen?"
"She did," replied the cardinal, "she did procure an interview for me."
And compelling himself to a quiet manner, he went on with his story:
The Countess de Valois came to him after two days with a joyful countenance, and brought to him the request to accompany the Countess Valois two days after to Versailles, where, in the garden, in a place indicated by the countess, the meeting of the queen and the cardinal should take place. The cardinal was to put on the simple, unpretending dress of a citizen of Paris, a blue cloth coat, a round hat, and high leather boots. The cardinal, full of inexpressible delight at this, could, notwithstanding, scarcely believe that the queen would show him this intoxicating mark of her favor; upon which the Countess Valois, laughing, showed him a letter of the queen, directed to her, on gold-bordered paper, and signed like the note which he had received before--" Marie Antoinette of France." In this note the queen requested her dear friend to go carefully to work to warn the cardinal to speak softly during the interview, because there were ears lurking in the neighborhood, and not to come out from the thicket till the queen should give a sign.
After reading this letter, the cardinal had no more doubts, but surrendered himself completely to his joy, his impatience, and longed for the appointed hour to arrive. At last this hour came, and, in company with the countess, the cardinal, arrayed in the appointed dress, repaired in a simple hired carriage to Versailles.
The countess led him to the terrace of the palace, where she directed the cardinal to hide behind a clump of laurel-trees, and then left him, in order to inform the queen, who walked every evening in the park, in company with the Count and Countess d'Artois, of the presence of the cardinal, and to conduct her to him. The latter now remained alone, and, with loud-beating heart, listened to every sound, and, moving gently around, looked down the long alley which ran between the two fountains, in order to catch sight of the approach of the queen. It was a delightful evening; the full moon shone in golden clearness from the deep-blue sky, and illuminated all the objects in the neighborhood with a light like that of day. It now disclosed a tall, noble figure, clad in a dark-red robe, and with large blue pins in her hair, hurrying to the terrace, and followed by the Countess Valois.
To the present moment the cardinal had slightly doubted as to his unmeasurable good fortune--now he doubted no more. It was the queen, Marie Antoinette, who was approaching. She wore the same dress, the same coiffure which she had worn the last Sunday, when after the mass he had gone to Versailles to drive.
Yes, it was the queen, who was hurrying across the terrace, and approaching the thicket behind which the cardinal was standing.