 CHAPTER XVIII Mademoiselle Oliva. During this time, the man who had pointed out the fictitious queen to the people, touched on the shoulder another man, who stood near him in a shabby dress, and said, For you, who are a journalist, here is a fine subject for an article. How so, replied the man, shall I tell you? Certainly. And the danger of being governed by a king, who is governed by a queen, who indulges in such paroxysms as these. The journalist laughed, but in the bus-steel he said, Poh, nonsense, I do not mean you to write it out plainly. Who can interfere with you, if you relay the history of Prasilu, and the princess Etoniatna, queen of Narfek, what do you say to that? It is an admirable idea, said the journalist. And I do not doubt that a pamphlet called, The Paroxysms of the Princess Etoniatna at the House of the Fakir Remsem, would have a great success. I believe it also. Then go and do it. The journalist pressed the hand of the unknown. Shall I send you some copies, sir? I will, with pleasure, if you will give me your name. Certainly the idea pleases me. What is your usual circulation? Two thousand. Then do me a favour. Take these fifty Louis, and publish six thousand. Oh, sir, you overwhelm me. May I not know the name of such a generous patron of literature? You shall know, when I call for one thousand copies. But two francs each, are they not? Will they be ready in a week? I will work night and day, monsieur. Let it be amusing. I shall make all Paris die with laughing, except one person, who will weep over it. Upper Poe, take the publication from London. Sir, I am your humble servant. The journalist took his leave, with the fifty Louis in his pocket, highly delighted. The unknown again turned to look at the young woman, who had now subsided into a state of exhaustion, and looked beautiful, as she lay there. Really, he said to himself, the resemblance is frightful. God had his motives in creating it, and has no doubt contempt her, to whom the resemblance is so strong. While he made these reflections she rose slowly from the midst of the cushions. Seeing herself with the arm of an attendant, and began to arrange, her somewhat disordered toilette, and then traversed the rooms, confronting boldly the looks of the people. She was somewhat astonished, however, when she found herself saluted with deep and respectful boughs, by a group which had been assembled, by the indefinitegable stranger, who kept whispering, never mind, gentlemen, never mind, she is still the Queen of France. Let us salute her. She next entered the courtyard, and looked about for a coach, or chair. But seeing none was about to set off on foot. One of what men approached, and said, Shall I call madam's carriage? I have none, she replied. Madame came in a coach. Yes. From the rue d'auphine. Yes. I will take madam home. Do so then, said she, although somewhat surprised at the offer. The man made a sign, and a carriage drove up. He opened the door for her, and then said to the coachmen. To the rue d'auphine. They set off, and the young woman, who much approved of this mode of transit, regret it, she had not further to go. They soon stopped, however. The footman handed her out, and immediately drove off again. Really, she said to herself, this is an agreeable adventure. It is very gallant of Monsieur Messmer. Oh, I am very tired, and he must have foreseen that. He is a great doctor. Saying these words she mounted to the second story, and knocked at a door, which was quickly opened by an old woman. The supper-ready mother. Yes, and growing cold. Has he come? No, not yet, but the gentleman has. My gentleman. He who was to speak to you this evening. To me? Yes. This colloquy took place in a kind of anti-champer, opening into her room, which was furnished with old curtains of yellow silk, chairs of green, Utrecht velvet, not very new, and an old yellow sofa. She opened the door, and going in saw a man seated on the sofa, whom she did not know in the least, although we do, for it was the same man whom we have seen taking so much interest in her at Messmer's. She had not time to question him for he began immediately. I know all that you are going to ask, and will tell you without asking. You are Mademoiselle Oliva, are you not? Yes, sir. A charming person, highly nervous, and much taken by the system of Miss your Messmer. I have just left there. All this, however, your beautiful eyes, or saying plainly, does not explain what brings me here. You are right, sir. Will you not do me the favour to sit down, or I shall be obliged to also get up? And that is an uncomfortable way of talking. Really, sir, you have very extraordinary manners. Mademoiselle, I saw you just now at Miss your Messmer's, and found you to be all I could wish. Sir, do not alarm yourself, Mademoiselle. I do not tell you that I found you charming. That would seem like a declaration of love, and I have no such intention. I know that you are accustomed to have yourself called beautiful, but I, who also thinks so, have other things to talk about. Say, sir, the manner which you speak to me. Do not get angry before you have heard me. Is there anyone who can overhear us? No, sir, no one, but still. Then if no one can hear, we can converse at our ease. What do you say to a little partnership between us? Really, sir. Do not misunderstand. I do not say liaison. I say partnership. I am not talking of love, but of business. What kind of business, said Oliva, with growing curiosity. What do you do all day? Why, I do nothing, or at least as little as possible. You have no occupation so much the better. Do you like walking? Very much. To see sights and go to balls, excessively. To live well, above all things. If I gave you twenty-five Louis a month, would you refuse me? Sir, my dear Mademoiselle Oliva, now you are beginning to doubt me again, and it was agreed that you were to listen quietly. I will say fifty Louis if you like. I like fifty Louis better than twenty-five, but what I like better than either is to be able to choose my own lover. Morte ble, but I have already told you that I do not desire to be your lover. Set your mind at ease about that. Then what am I to do to earn my fifty Louis? You must receive me at your house and always be glad to see me. Walk out with me whenever I desire it, and come to me whenever I send for you. But I have a lover, sir. Well dismiss him. Oh! Oseer cannot be sent away like that. I will help you. No, I love him. Oh! A little. That is just a little too much. I cannot help it. Then he may stop. You are very obliging. Well, but do my conditions suit you? Yes, if you have told me all. I believe I have said all I wish to say now. On your honour, on my honour. Very well. Then that is settled, and here is the first month in advance. He held out the money and, as she still seemed to hesitate a little, slipped it himself into her pocket. Scarcely had he done so when a knock at the door made Oliver run to the window. Good God! she cried. Escape quickly. He is here. Who? Oseer, my lover. Be quick, sir. Nonsense. He will half murder you. Bah! But do you hear how he knocks? Well, open the door. And he sat down again on the sofa saying to himself, I must see this fellow and judge what he is like. The knocks became louder and mingled with oaths. No mother, and open the door, cried Oliver. As for you, sir, if any harm happens to you, it's your own fault. End of CHAPTER XIII of the Queen's Necklace, by Alexandre Dumas. The translator is unknown. The Stubberbox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Gail Timmerman Vaughn. CHAPTER XIX. M. BOSIER. Oliver ran to meet a man who came in swearing furiously, and in a frightful passion. Some BOSIER, said she, apparently not at all frightened. Let me alone, cried he, shaking her off brutally. Ah, I see. It was because there's a man here that the door was not opened. And as the visitor remained perfectly still, he advanced furiously towards him, saying, Will you answer me, sir? What do you want to know, my dear M. BOSIER? What are you doing here, and who are you? I'm a very quiet man, and I was simply talking to Madame. That was all, said Oliver. Will you hold her tongue, bold BOSIER? Now, said the visitor, do not be so rude to Madame, who has done nothing to deserve it, and if you are in a bad temper. Yes, I am. He must have lost it cards, murmured Oliver. I'm clean out more to Diabla, cried BOSIER. But you, sir, will do me the favour to leave this room. But, M. BOSIER, Diabla, if you do not go immediately, it will be the worst for you. You did not tell me, M. Moselle, that he was troubled with these fits, good heavens, what ferocity. BOSIER, exasperated, drew his sword and roared, if you do not move, I will pin you to the sofa. Really, it is impossible to be more disagreeable, said the visitor, also drawing a small sword, which they had not seen before. Oliver uttered piercing shrieks. Oh, mad Moselle, pray be quiet, said he, or two things will happen. First, you will stun M. BOSIER, and he will get killed. Secondly, the watch will come up and carry you straight off to Saint Lazar. But Liva ceased her cries. The scene that ensued with curious, BOSIER, furious with rage, was making wild and unskillful passes at his adversary who, still seated on the sofa, parried them with the utmost ease, laughing immoderately all the time. BOSIER began to grow tired and also frightened, for he felt that if this man, who was now content to stand on the defensive, were to attack him in his turn, he should be done for in a moment. Suddenly, however, by a skillful movement, the stranger sent BOSIER's sword flying across the room. It went through an open window and fell into the street. Oh, M. BOSIER, said he, you should take more care. If your sword falls on anyone, it will kill him. BOSIER ran down at his utmost speed to fetch his sword. And meanwhile, Oliver, seizing the hand of the victor, said, oh, sir, you are very brave, but as soon as you are gone, BOSIER will beat me. Then I will remain. Oh, no. When he beats me, I beat him in return, and I always get the best of it, because I am not obliged to take any care. So if you would go, sir. But my dear, if I go now, I shall meet Mr. BOSIER on the stairs. Probably the combat will recommence. And as I shall not feel inclined to stand on the staircase, I shall have to kill Mr. BOSIER. Oh, dear, that is true. Well then, to avoid that, I will remain here. No, sir, I entreat. Go up to the next story. And as soon as he returns to this room, I will lock the door and take a key, and you can walk away while we fight it out. You are a charming girl, Oliver. To win. Tonight, if you please. Tonight, are you mad? Not at all. But there is a ball at the opera tonight. But it is now midnight. That does not matter. I should want a domino. BOSIER will fetch it when you have beaten him. You are right, said Oliver, laughing. And here are ten louis to buy a whiff. Adja in thanks, and she pushed him out, saying, quick, he is coming back. But if my chance he should beat you, how will you let me know? She reflected a moment. You have a servant? Yes. Send him here, and let him wait under the window until I let a note fall. I will, Adja. And he went upstairs. Oliver drowns the sound of his footsteps by calling loudly to BOSIER. Are you coming back, madman, for he did not seem in much hurry to re-encounter his formidable adversary. But last, however, he came up. Oliver was standing outside the door. She pushed him in, locked it, and put the key in her pocket. Before the stranger left the house he heard the noise of the combat begin, and both voices loud and furious. There is no doubt, said he to himself, that this woman knows how to take care of herself. This carriage was waiting for him at the corner of the street. But before getting in he spoke to the footman, who thereupon stationed himself within view of Madame Ozil Oliver's windows. CHAPTER XX. CHAPTER XX. GOLD. We must now return to the interior of the room. BOSIER was much surprised to see Oliver lock the door, and still more so not to see his adversary. He began to feel triumphant, for if he was hiding from him he must, he thought, be afraid of him. He therefore began to search for him. But Oliver talked so loud and fast that he advanced towards her to try and stop her. What was received was a box on the ear which he returned in kind. Oliver replied by throwing a china vase at his head. And his answer was a blow with a cane. She, furious, flew at him, and seized him by the throat, and he, trying to free himself, tore her dress. Then with a cry she pushed him from her with such force that he fell in the middle of the room. He began to get tired of this, so he said, without commencing another attack, You are a wicked creature. You ruin me. On the contrary, it is you who ruined me. Oh, I ruin her. She who has nothing. Say that I have nothing now. Say that you have eaten and drank and played away all that I had. You reproach me with my poverty. Yes, for it comes from your vices. Do not talk of vices. It only remained for you to take a lover. And what do you call all those wretches who sit by you in the tennis court where you play? I play to live. And nicely you succeed. We should die of hunger from your industry. And you with yours are obliged to cry if you get your dress torn, because you have nothing to buy another. I do better than you at all events, in putting your hand in her pocket. She drew out some gold and threw it across the room. When Boceol saw this he remained stupefied. Louie! He cried at last. She took out some more and threw them in his face. Oh! cried he. Oliva has become rich. That is what my industry brings in, said she, pushing him with her foot as he kneeled down to pick up the gold. Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, candidly joyfully. Miserable wretch! said Oliva. Nineteen, twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two, cowered. Twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five. Infamous wretch. He got up. And so, Mademoiselle, you have been saving money when you kept me without necessaries. You let me go about in an old hat, darned stockings, and patched clothes, while you had all this money. Where does it come from? From the sale of my things. Scoundrel! murmured Oliva, looking at him with contempt. But I pardon your avarice, continued he. You would have killed me just now, said Oliva. Then I should have been right. Now I should be wrong to do it. Why, if you please? Because now you contribute to our menage. You are a base wretch. My little Oliva, give me back my money. Oh, my darling, if you do not, I will pass your own sword through your body. Oliva, will you give it? Oh, would you not take it away? Ah, cowered! You beg. You solicit for the fruits of my bed conduct. That is what they call a man. I have always despised you. I gave to you when I could, Nicole. You should not call me Nicole. Pardon, then, Oliva, but is it not true? Find present, certainly, some silver buckles, six louis d'or, two silk dresses, and three embroidered handkerchiefs. It's a great deal for a soldier. Hold your tongue, the buckles you stole from someone else. The louis d'or you borrowed and never returned. The silk dresses. Oliva, Oliva, give me back my money. What shall I give you instead? Double the quantity. Well, said the rogue gravely, I will go to the Rue de Bussis and play with it and bring you back, not the double but the quintuple. And he made two steps to the door. She caught him by the coat. There, said he, you have torn my coat. Never mind, you shall have a new one. That will be six louis, Oliva. Luckily, at the Rue de Bussis, they are not particular about dress. All of us ceased hold of the other tail and tore it right off. Both here became furious. Morte tu le diable, cried he. You will have me kill you at last. You are tearing me to bits. Now I cannot go out. On the contrary, you must go out immediately. Without a coat? Put on your great coat? It is all in holes. Then do not put it on, but you must go out. I will not. She took out of her pocket another handful of gold and put it into his hands. Both here kneeled at her feet and cried, Order, and I will obey. Go quickly to the Capucin of Rue de Sin, where they sell dominoes for the ball-mask, and buy me one complete mask and all. Good. And for yourself? Black, but mine white, and I only give you twenty minutes to do it in. Are we going to the ball? Yes, if you are obedient. Oh, always. Go then, and show your zeal. I run, but the money. You have twenty-five louis that you picked up. Oh, Oliva, I thought you meant to give me those. You shall have more another time, but if I give you them now you will stop and play. She is right, said he to himself. That is just what I intended to do. And he set off. As soon as he was gone, Oliva wrote rapidly these words. The piece is signed, and the ball decided on, and to a clock we shall be at the opera. I shall wear a white domino with a blue ribbon on my left shoulder. Then, rolling this round a bit of the broken vase, she went to the window and threw it out. The valet picked it up and made off immediately. In less than half an hour Miss Ubosia returned, followed by two men bringing, at the cost of eighteen louis, two beautiful dominoes, such as were only churned out at the Capucin, makers to her majesty, and all the maids of honour. CHAPTER XXXIV We left Madame de la Motte and Monsieur Messmer's door, watching the Queen's carriage as it drove off. Then she went home, for she also intended to put on a domino and indulge herself by going to the opera. But a contra-tant awaited her. A man was waiting at her door, with a note from the cardinal de Laurent. She opened it and read as follows. Madame la Contesse, you have doubtless not forgotten that we have business together, even if you have a short memory. I never forget what has pleased me. I shall have the honour to wait for you where my messenger will conduct you, if you please, to come. Jean, though rather vexed, immediately ran to the coach, and told the footman to get on the box with a coachman. Ten minutes suffice to bring her to the entrance of the faux-broque Saint-Antoine, where, in a hollow and completely hidden by great trees, was one of those pretty houses built in the time of Louis XV, with all the taste of the 16th and the comfort of the 18th century. Oh, oh, a petit maison! She said to herself. It is very natural on the part of Monsieur de Laurent, but very humiliating for Valois, but patience. She was led from room to room till she came to a small dining room fitted up with exquisite taste. There she found the cardinal, waiting for her. He was looking over some pamphlets, but rose immediately on seeing her. Oh, here you are, thanks Madame la Contesse, and he approached to kiss her hand, but she drew back with reproachful and indignant air. What is the matter, Madame? He asked. You are doubtless, not accoste monseigneur, to receive such a greeting from the women whom your eminence is in the habit of summoning here. Oh, Madame, we are in your petit maison, are we not, sir? Continued she looking disdainfully around her. But Madame, I had hoped that your eminence would have deigned to remember in what rank I was born. I had hoped that you would have been pleased to consider that if God has made me poor he has at least left me the pride of my race. Come, come, Countess, I took you for an intelligent woman. You call a woman of intelligence, it appears monseigneur, everyone who is indifferent to, and laughs at everything, even dishonour. To me these women pardon me your eminence, I have been in the habit of giving a different name. No Contesse, you deceive yourself. I call a woman of intellect, one who listens when you speak to her, and does not speak before having listened. I listened then. I had to speak to you of serious matters, Countess. Before you receive me in a dining-room. Why would you have me receiving you in a boudoir? The distinction is nice, said she. I think so, Countess. Then I am to sup with you, nothing else. I trust your eminence is persuaded that I feel the honour as I ought. You are quizzing, Countess. No, I only laugh. Would you rather I were angry? You are very difficult to please, monseigneur. Oh, you are charming when you laugh, and I ask nothing better than to see you always doing so. But at this moment you are not laughing, oh, no. There is anger in that smile, which shows your beautiful teeth. Not the least in the world, monseigneur. That is good. And I hope you will sup well. I shall sup well, and you? Oh, I am not hungry. How, madame, you refuse to sup with me? You send me away. I do not understand you, monseigneur. Listen to your, Countess. If you were less in a passion I would tell you that it is useless to behave like this. You are always equally charming, but as at each compliment I fear to be dismissed, I abstain. You fear to be dismissed? Really, I beg pardon of your eminence, but you become unintelligible. It is, however, quite clear what I say. The other day when I came to see you, you complained that you were lodged unsuitably to your rank. I thought therefore that to restore you to your proper place would be like restoring air to the bird whom the experimenter has placed under his ear-pump. Consequently, beautiful Countess, that you might receive me with pleasure, and that I, on my part, might visit you without compromising, either you or myself, he stopped and looked at her. Well, she said, I hope that you would deign to accept this small residence. You observe, I do not call it Petite Maison. Except you give me this house, monseigneur? Said Jean, her heart beating with eagerness. A very small gift, Countess, but if I had offered you more, you would have refused. Oh, monseigneur, it is impossible for me to accept this. Impossible, why? Do not say that word to me, for I do not believe in it. The house belongs to you. The keys are here, on this silver plate. Do you find out another humiliation in this? No, but—then accept. Monseigneur, I have told you. How, madame? You write to the ministers for pension. Do you accept a hundred Louis from an unknown lady? Oh, monseigneur, it is different. Come, I have waited for you in your dining-room. I have not yet seen the boudoir, nor the drawing-room, nor the bedrooms, for I suppose there are all these. Oh, monseigneur, forgive me. You forced me to confess that you were the most delicate of men, and she plushed, with the pleasure she had been so long restraining. But checking herself, she sat down and said, Now, will your eminence give me my supper? The cardinal took off his cloak, and sat down also. Supper was served in a few moments. Jean put on her mask, before the servants came in. It is I who ought to wear a mask, said the cardinal, for you were at home, among your own people. Jean laughed, but did not take hers off. In spite of her pleasure and surprise, she made a good supper. The cardinal was a man of much talent, and from his great knowledge of the world and of women, he was a man difficult to contend with, and he thought that this country girl, full of pretension, but who, in spite of her pride, could not conceal her greediness, would be an easy conquest, worth undertaking on account of her beauty, and of something pecan't about her, very pleasing to a man blasé like him. He therefore never took pains to be much on his guard with her, and she, more cunning than he thought, saw through his opinion of her and tried to strengthen it by playing the provincial coquette, and appearing silly, that her adversary might be in reality weak in his overconfidence. The cardinal thought her completely dazzled by the present he had made her, and so indeed she was, but he forgot that he himself was below the mark of the ambition of a woman like Jean. Come, said he, pouring out for her a glass of cypress wine. As you have signed your contract with me, you will not be unfriendly any more, Countess. Oh, no! You will receive me here sometimes without repugnance, and I shall never be so ungrateful as to forget whose house this really is. Not mine. Oh, yes, Monsignor. Do not contradict me, I advise you, or I shall begin to impose conditions. You take care, on your part. Of what? Why? I am at home here, you know, and if your conditions are unreasonable, I shall call my servants. The cardinal laughed. Ah, you laugh, sir. You think if I call, they will not come. Oh, you're quite mistaken, Countess. I am nothing here, only your guest. Upper Pope, continued he, as if it had just entered his head. Have you heard anything more of the ladies who came to see you? The ladies of the portrait, said Jean, who now knowing the queen, saw through the artifice. Yes, the ladies of the portrait. Monsignor, you know them as well, and even better than I do, I feel sure. Oh, Countess, you do me wrong. Did you not express a wish to learn who they were? Finally it is natural to desire to know your benefactors. Well, if I knew, I should have told you. Monsieur le cardinal, you do know them. No. If you repeat that, no, I shall have to call you a liar. I shall know how to avenge that insult. How? With a kiss. You know the portrait of Maria Teresa. Certainly, but what of that? That having recognized this portrait, you must have had some suspicion of the person to whom it belonged. And why? Because it was natural to think that the portrait of a mother would only be in the hands of her daughter. The queen, cried the cardinal, was so truthful a tone of surprise that it duped even Jean. Do you really think the queen came to see you? And you did not suspect it? Monde, you know. How should I? I, who speak to you, am neither son, daughter, nor even relation of Maria Teresa. Yet I have a portrait of her about me at this moment. Look! said he. I threw out a snuff-box and showed it to her. Therefore you see that if I, who am in no way related to the imperial house, carry about such a portrait another might do the same, and yet be a stranger, Jean was silent. She had nothing to answer. Then it is your opinion, he went on, that you have had a visit from the queen, Marie-Antoinette, the queen and another lady. Madame de Poulignac? I do not know. Perhaps Madame de L'Ambal, a young lady very beautiful, and very serious. Oh, perhaps mademoiselle de tavernée. It is possible I do not know her. Well, if Her Majesty has really come to visit you, you are sure of her protection. It is a great step towards your fortune. I believe it, Monde Signore. And Her Majesty was generous to you? She gave me a hundred louis. And she is not rich particularly now. That doubles my gratitude. Did she show much interest in you? Very great. Then all goes well, said the prelate. There only remains one thing now to penetrate to Versailles. The countess smiled. Ah, countess, it is not so easy. She smiled again more significantly than before. Really, you provincials, said he, doubt nothing. Because you have seen Versailles with the doors open, and stairs to go up, you think that anyone may open these doors and ascend these stairs. Have you seen the monsters of brass, of marble, and of lead, which adorn the park in the terraces? Yes. Gryphon, Scorgon, schools, and other ferocious beasts. Well, you will find ten times as many, and more wicked, living animals between you and the favour of sovereigns. Your eminence will aid me to pass through the ranks of these monsters. I will try, but it will be difficult. And if you pronounce my name, if you discover your talisman, it will lose all its power. Happily then I am guarded by the immediate protection of the queen, and I shall enter Versailles with a good key. Ah, Monsieur le Cardinal, that is my secret. Or rather, is not, for, if it were mine, I should feel bound to tell it to my generous protector. There is then an obstacle, Countess. Alas, yes, Monseigneur, it is not my secret, and I must keep it. Let it suffice you to know that tomorrow I shall go to Versailles, that I shall be received, and I have every reason to hope. Well received. The cardinal looked at her with wonder. Ah, Countess, said he, laughing. I shall see if you get in. You will push your curiosity so far as to follow me. Exactly. Very well. Really, Countess, you are a living enigma. One of those monsters who inhabit Versailles. Oh, you believe me a man of taste, do not? Certainly, Monseigneur. Well, here I am, at your knees, and I take your hand, and kiss it. Should I do that, if I thought you a monster? I beg you, sir, to remember, said Jean Coley, that I am neither a grisette nor an opera girl, that I am my own mistress, feeling myself the equal of any man in this kingdom. Therefore I shall take freely and spontaneously, when it shall please me, the man who will have gained my affections. Therefore, Monseigneur, respect me a little, and in me, the nobility to which we both belong. Cardinal Rose. I see, said he, you wish me to love you seriously. I do not say that, but I wish to be able to love you. When that day comes, if it does come, you will easily find it out, believe me. If you do not, I will let you know it, for I feel young enough and attractive enough, not to mind making the first advances, nor to fear a repulse. Countess, if it depends upon me, you shall love me. We shall see. You have already a friendship for me, have you not? More than that. Oh, then we are at least half way. Do you are a woman that I should adore if he stopped inside? Well, said she, if you would permit it, perhaps I shall, when I shall be independent of your assistance, and you can no longer suspect that I encourage you from interested motives. Then you forbid me to pay my court now. Not at all, but there are other ways besides kneeling and kissing hands. Well, Countess, let us hear. What will you permit? All that is compatible with my tastes and duties. Oh, that is vague indeed. Stop! I was going to add, my caprices. I am lost. You draw back? No, said the Cardinal. I do not. Well, then I want a proof. Speak. I want to go to the ball of the opera. Well, Countess, that only concerns yourself. Are you not free as air to go where you wish? Ah, but you have not heard all. I want you to go with me. I do the opera, Countess, said he, with a start of horror. See already how much your desire to please me is worth. The Cardinal cannot go to a ball in the opera, Countess. It is as if I proposed to you to go into a public house. Then a Cardinal does not dance, I suppose. Oh, no! But I have read that Monsieur le Cardinal de Richelieu danced a serabande. Yes, before Anne of Austria, before a queen, repeated Jean. Perhaps you would do as much for a queen. The Cardinal cannot help blushing, dissimilar as he was. It is not natural, she continued, that I should feel hurt when after all your protestations you will not do as much for me as you would for a queen, especially when I only ask you to go concealed in a domino, in a mask, besides men like you who may do anything with impunity. The Cardinal yielded to her flattery and her blandishments. Taking her hand, he said, for you I will do anything even the impossible. Yes, Monsignor, you are really amiable, but now you have consented, I will let you off. No, no. He who does the work can alone claim the reward. Countess, I will attend you, but in a domino. We shall pass through the Roussandini, close to the opera, said the Countess. I will go en masse, buy a domino and a mask for you, and you can put them on in the carriage. That will do delightfully. Oh, Monsignor, you are very good, but now I think of it. Perhaps at the Botechelois you might find a domino more to your taste than the one I should buy. Now, Countess, that is unpardonable, malice. Believe me, if I go to the opera I shall be as surprised to find myself there as you were to find yourself supping, tet-a-tet, with a man, not your husband. Jean had nothing to reply to this. Soon a carriage, without arms, drove up, they both got in, and drove off at a wrapped pace. End of Chapter 21 CHAPTER 22 Some words about the opera. The opera, that temple of pleasure at Paris, was burned in the month of June 1781. Twenty persons had perished in the ruins, and as it was the second time within eighteen years that this had happened, it created a prejudice against the place where it then stood, in the Palais Royal, and the king had ordered its removal toward a central sport. The place chosen was la Porte Saint-Martin. The king, vexed to see Paris deprived, for so long of its opera, became as sorrowful as if the arrivals of grain had ceased, or bread had risen, to more than seven sous the cordonne-love. It was melancholy to see the nobility, the army, and the citizens without their after-dinner amusement, and to see the promenades thronged, with the unemployed divinities, from the chorus singers to the primadonnes. An architect was then introduced to the king, full of new plans, who promised so perfect a ventilation that even in case of fire no one would be smothered. He would make eight doors for exit, besides five large windows placed so low that anyone could jump out of them. In the place of the beautiful Hall of Moreau, he was to erect a building with ninety-six feet of frontage towards the boulevard, ornamented with eight chariots-hits on pillars, forming three entrance doors, a bar-relief above the capitals, and a gallery with three windows. The stage was to be thirty-six feet wide, the theatre seventy-two feet deep, and eighty across from one wall to the other. He asked only seventy-five days and nights before he opened it to the public. This appeared to all Amir Gaskhanad, and he was much laughed at. The king, however, concluded the agreement with him. La Noire said to work and kept his word, but the public feared that a building so quickly erected could not be safe, and when it opened no one would go. Even the few courageous ones who did go to the first representation of Adèle de Pontu made their wills first. The architect was in despair. He came to the king to consult him as to what was to be done. It was just after the birth of the Dolphin, all Paris was full of joy. The king advised him to announce a gratuitous performance in honour of the event, and give a ball after. Doubtless plenty would come, and if the theatre stood, its safety was established. Thanks, Sire, said the architect. But reflect first, said the king, if there be a crowd, are you sure of your building? Sire, I am sure, and I shall go there myself. I will go to the second representation, said the king. The architect followed this advice. They played Adèle de Pontu to three thousand spectators who afterwards danced. After this there could be no more fear. It was three years afterwards that Madame de la Motte and the Cardinal went to the ball. The ball at the opera. The ball was at its height when they glided in quietly and were soon lost in the crowd. A couple had taken refuge from the pressure under the queen's spokes, one of them more white domino, and the other a black one. They were talking with great animation. I tell you, Oliva, said the black domino, that I am sure you are expecting someone. Your head is no longer a head, but a weather-cock, and turns round to look at every newcomer. Well, is it astonishing that I should look at the people, when that is what I came here for? Oh, that is what you came here for. Well, sir, for what do people generally come? A thousand things. Then perhaps, but women only for one, to see and be seen, by as many people as possible. Madame was El Oliva. Oh, do not speak in that big voice, it does not frighten me, and above all, do not call me by my name. It is bad taste to let everyone know who you are. The black domino made an angry gesture. It was interrupted by a blue domino who approached them. Come, monsieur, said he, let Madame amuse herself. It is not every night one comes to a ball at the opera. Meadow with your own affairs, replied Bocière, rudely. Monsieur, learn for once all that a little courtesy is never out of place. I do not know you, he replied, and do not want to have anything to do with you. No, you do not know me, but I know you, monsieur Bocière. At hearing his name thus pronounced, Bocière visibly trembled. Oh, do not be afraid, monsieur Bocière, I am not what you take me for. But, yes, sir, do you guess thoughts as well as names? Why not? Then tell me what I thought. I have never seen a sorcerer and should find it amusing. But what you ask is not difficult enough to entitle me to that name. Never mind. Tell. Well, then, you took me for an agent of Monsieur de Crosne. Monsieur de Crosne, he repeated. Yes, the new tenant of police. Sir, softly, monsieur de Bocière, you really look as if you were feeling for your sword. And so I was, sir. Good heavens, what a warlike disposition. But I think, monsieur de Bocière, you left your sword at home, and you did well. But to speak of something else, will you relinquish to me, madame, for a time? Give you up, madame? Yes, sir. That is not uncommon, I believe, at a ball at the opera. Certainly not when it suits the gentleman. It suffices sometimes that it should please the lady. Do you ask it for a long time? Really, monsieur Bocière, you are too curious, perhaps for ten minutes, perhaps for an hour, perhaps for all the evening. You are laughing at me, sir. Come, reply, will you or not? No, sir. Come, come, do not be ill-tempered. You, who were so gentle just now? Just now? Yes, at the rue d'orphine. Oliver laughed. Hold your tongue, madame, said Bocière. Yes, continued the blue domino, where you were on the point of killing his poor lady, but stopped at the side of Saint-Louis. Oh, I see, you and she have an understanding together. How can you say such a thing, cried Oliver? And if it were so, said the stranger, it is all for your benefit. For my benefit, that would be curious. I will prove to you that your presence here is as hurtful as your absence would be profitable. You are a member of a certain academy, not the Academy Française, but in the rue du Po-au-Faire, in the second story. Is it not, my dear monsieur Bocière? Hush, said Bocière. The blue domino drew out his watch, which was studded with diamonds, that made Bocière's eyes water to look at them. Well, continued he. In a quarter of an hour they are going to discuss their little project, by which they hope to secure two million francs among the twelve members, of whom you are one, monsieur Bocière. And you must be another, if you are not. Pray go on. A member of the police. Oh, monsieur Bocière, I thought you had more sense. If I were of the police, I should have taken you long ago, for some little affair less honourable than this speculation. So, sir, you wish to send me to the rue du Po-au-Faire. But I know why, that I may be arrested there. I am not such a fool. Now you are one. If I had wanted to arrest you, I had only to do it, and I am rid of you at once. But gentleness and persuasion are my maxims. Oh, I know now, said Bocière. You were the man that was on the sofa two hours ago. What sofa? Never mind, you have induced me to go, and if you are sending a gallant man into harm, you will pay for it some day. Be tranquil, said the blue domino laughing. By sending you there I give you one hundred thousand francs at least, for you know the rule of this society is that whoever is absent loses his share. Well then, goodbye, said Bocière, and vanished. The blue domino took possession of Oliva's arm, left at liberty by Bocière. Now, said she, I have let you manage, poor Bocière, at your ease, but I warn you, you will find me not so easy to talk over. Therefore find something pretty to say to me, or I know nothing prettier than your own history, dear mademoiselle Nicole. Said he, pressing the pretty round arm of the little woman who uttered a cry, adhering herself so dressed. But recovering herself with marvellous quickness said, oh, my dear, what a name. Is it I whom you call Nicole? If so, you are wrong, for that is not my name. At present I know that you call yourself Oliva, but we will talk afterwards of Oliva. At present I want to speak of Nicole. Have you forgotten the time when you bore that name? I do not believe it, my dear child, for the name that one bears as a young girl is ever the one enshrined in the heart, although one may have been forced to take another, to hide the first. Poor Oliva, happy Nicole. Why do you say poor Oliva? Do you not think me happy? It would be difficult to be happy with a man like Bociere. Oliva sighed and said, indeed I am not. You love him, however. A little. If you do not love him much, leave him. No. Why not? Because I should no sooner have done so than I should regret it. Do you think so? I am afraid I should. What could you have to regard in a drunkard, a gambler, a man who beats you, and a black leg, who will one day come to the gallows? You would not understand me if I told you. Try. I should regret the excitement he keeps me in. I ought to have guessed it, that comes of passing your youth with such silent people. You know about my youth perfectly. Oliva laughed and shook her head. You doubt it? Really I do. Then we will talk a little about it, mademoiselle Nicole. Very well, but I warn you, I will tell nothing. I do not wish it. I do not mean your childhood. I began from the time when you first perceived that you had a heart capable of love. Love for whom? For Gilbert, at this name, Oliva trembled. Ah, mon Dieu, she cried. How do you know? Then with a sigh she said, oh, sir, you have pronounced a name indeed fertile in remembrances. You knew Gilbert? Yes, since I speak to you of him. Alas. A charming lad upon my word. You loved him? He was handsome. No, perhaps not, but I thought him so. He was full of mind, my equal in birth. But Gilbert thought no woman his equal. Not even mademoiselle d'etat. Oh, I know whom you mean, sir. You are well instructed. Yes, Gilbert loved higher than the poor Nicole. You are possessed of terrible secrets, sir. Tell me, if you can, she continued, looking earnestly at him. What has become of him? You should know best. Why in heaven's name? Because if he followed you from Tévernée to Paris, you followed him from Paris to Trinon. Yes, that is true, but that is ten years ago, and I wished to know what had passed since the time I ran away, and since he disappeared. When Gilbert loved mademoiselle d'etat, do not pronounce names aloud, said he. Well then, when he loved her so much that each tree at Trinon was witness to his love, you loved him no more. On the contrary, I loved him more than ever, and this love was my ruin. I am beautiful, proud, and when I please, insolent, and would lay my head on the scaffold rather than confess myself despised. You have a heart, Nicole. I had then, she said, sighing. This conversation makes you sad. Know it does me good to speak of my youth, but tell me why Gilbert fled from Trinon. Do you wish me to confirm a suspicion, or to tell you something you do not know? Something I do not know. Well, I cannot tell you this. Have you not heard that he is dead? Yes, I have, but—well, he is dead. Dead, said Nicole, with an air of doubt. Then with a sudden start, grant me one favour, she cried, as many as you like. I saw you two hours ago, for it was you, was it not? Certainly. You did not, then, try to disguise yourself. Not at all. But I was stupid. I saw you, but I did not observe you. I do not understand. Do you know what I want? No. Take off your mask. Here, impossible. Oh, you cannot fear other people seeing you, here, behind this column. You will be quite hidden. I fear that I should recognise you. You! And that I should cry. It is you! It is you'll bear. What folly! Take off your mask. Yes, on one condition, that you will take off yours, if I ask. Agreed. The unknown. Took off his immediately. Oliva looked earnestly at him, and then sighed, and said, Alas, no, it is not you'll bear. And who am I? Oh, I do not care, as you are not he. And if it had been you'll bear, said he, as he put on his mask again, ah, if it had been, cried she passionately. And he had said to me, Nicole, do you remember, ta'afir name Maison Rouge? Then there would have been no longer a boceer in the world for me. But I have told you, my dear child, that you'll bear is dead. Ah, perhaps then it is for the best, said Oliva with a sigh. Yes, he would never have loved you beautiful as you are. Do you then think he despised me? No, he rather feared you. That is possible. Do you think it better that he is dead? Do not repeat my words, in your mouth they wound me. But it is better for mademoiselle Oliva. You observe I abandon Nicole, and speak to Oliva. You have before you a future, happy, rich, and brilliant. Do you think so? Yes, if you make up your mind to do anything to arrive at this end. I promise you. But you must give up sighing, as you are doing just now. Very well. I sighed for Gilbert, and as he is dead, and there are not two Gilbert's in the world, I shall sigh no more. But enough of him. Yes, we will speak of yourself. Why did you run away with boceer? Because I wished to quit trianon, and I was obliged to go with someone. I could no longer remain a pisale, rejected by Gilbert. You have then been faithful for ten years, through pride? You have paid dearly for it. Oliva laughed. Oh, I know what you are laughing at. To hear a man who pretends to know everything, accuse you of having been ten years faithful when you think you have not rendered yourself worthy of such a ridiculous reproach. However, I know all about you. I know that you went to Portugal with boceer, where you remained two years. That you then left him, and went to the Indies with the captain of a frigate, who hid you in his cabin, and who left you at Chandanagore when he returned to Europe. I know that you had two millions of rupees to spend in the house of a naebob who kept you shut up, that you escaped through the window on the shoulders of a slave. Then, rich, for you carried away two beautiful prompt bracelets, two diamonds, and three large rupees. You came back to France. When landing at Brest, your eagle genius made you encounter boceer on the quay, who recognized you immediately, bronzed and altered as you were, while you almost fainted at the sight of him. Oh, mon Dieu, cried Oliva, who are you then, who know all this? I know for ear that boceer carried you off again, persuaded you that he loved you, sold your jewels, and reduced you to poverty. Still you say you love him, and as love is the root of all happiness, of course, you ought to be happy. Oliva hung her head and covered her eyes with her hands, but two large tears might be seen forcing their way through her fingers. Liquid pearls, more precious, though not so marketable, as those both seer had sold. And this woman, enla, she said, whom you described as so proud and so happy, you have bought to-day, for fifteen Louis. I am aware it is too little, mademoiselle. No sir, on the contrary, I am surprised that a woman like me should be worth so much. You are worth more than that, as I will show you, but just now I want all your attention. Then I will be silent. No talk, on the contrary, of anything, does not matter what, so that we seem occupied. You are very odd. Take hold of my arm and let us walk. They walked on among the various groups. In a minute or two Oliva asked a question. Talk as much as you like, only do not ask questions at present, said her companion. For I cannot answer now, only as you speak disguise your voice, hold your head up and scratch your neck with your fan. She obeyed. In a minute they passed a highly perfumed group, in the centre of which a very elegant looking man was talking fast to three companions who were listening respectfully. Who is that young man in that beautiful grey domino? asked Oliva. Monsieur de Condartois, but pray do not speak just now. At this moment two other dominoes passed them, and stood in a place near, which was rather free from people. Lean on this pillar countess, said one of them in a low voice, but which was overheard by the blue domino, who started at its sound. Then a yellow domino, past her, the crowd, came up to the blue one and said, It is he, very good, replied the other, and the yellow domino vanished. Now then, said Oliva's companion turning to her, we will begin to enjoy ourselves a little. I hope so, for you have twice made me sad, first by taking away Bossir, and then by speaking of Gilbert. I will be both Gilbert and Bossir to you, said the unknown. Oh! sighed Oliva. I do not ask you to love me, remember, I only ask you to accept the life I offer you. That is, the accomplishment of all your desires, provided occasionally you give way to mine. Just now I have one. What? That black domino that you see there, is a German of my acquaintance who refused to come to the bowl with me, saying he was not well, and now he is here, and a lady with him, who is she? I do not know, we will approach them. I will pretend that you are a German, and you must not speak for fear of being found out. Now pretend to point him out to me, with the end of your fan. Like that? Yes, very well. Now whisper to me. Oliva obeyed with a docility, which charmed her companion. The black domino, who had his back turned to them, did not see all this, but his companion did. Take care, Monsieur, said she. There are two masks watching us. Oh! do not be afraid, Countess. They cannot recognize us. Do not mind them. But let me assure you that never form was so enchanting as yours. Never eyes so brilliant. Never. Hush! The spies approach. Spies, said the cardinal, uneasily. Disguise your voice if they make you speak, and I will do the same. Oliva and her blue domino indeed approached. He came up to the cardinal and said, Mask, what do you want, said the cardinal, in a voice as unlike as natural one as he could make it. The lady who accompanies me desires me to ask you some questions. Ask, said Monsieur de Rouen. Are they very indiscreet, said Madame de la Motte, so indiscreet that you shall not hear them? And he pretended to whisper to Oliva, who made a sign and answer. Then in irreproachable German he said to the cardinal, Montseigneur, are you in love with a lady who accompanies you? The cardinal trembled. Did you say Montseigneur? He asked. Yes. You deceive yourself, I am not the person you think. Oh, Monsieur de Cardinal, do not deny it, it is useless. If even I did not know you, the lady who accompanies me, assures me she knows you perfectly. And he again whispered to Oliva. Make a sign for yes, do so each time I press your arm. She did so. You astonish me, said the cardinal. Who is this lady? Oh, Montseigneur, I thought you would have known. She soon knew you. It is true that jealousy. Madame is jealous of me, cried the cardinal. We do not say that, replied the unknown, rather hotly. What are you talking about? Asked Madame de la Motte, who did not like this conversation in German. Oh, nothing, nothing. Madame, said the cardinal to Oliva. One word from you and I promised to recognize you instantly. Oliva saw him speaking to her, but did not understand a word, whispered to her companion. All this mystery peaked to the cardinal. One single German word, he said, could not much compromise Madame. The Blue Domino again pretended to take her orders, and then said, Monsieur de Cardinal, these are the words of Madame. He whose thoughts are not ever on the alert. He whose imagination does not perpetually suggest the presence of the loved one does not love, however much he may pretend it. The cardinal appeared struck with these words, all his attitude expressed surprise, respect and devotion. It is impossible, he murmured in French. What is impossible? Asked Madame de la Motte, who seized eagerly on these few words she could understand. Nothing Madame, nothing. Really, cardinal, you are making me play but a sad part, said she, withdrawing her arm angrily. He did not even seem to notice it, so great was his preoccupation with the German lady. Madame, said he to her, these words that your companion has repeated to me in your name are some German lines which I read in a house which is perhaps known to you. The Blue Domino pressed Oliva's arm, who thereupon bowed an ascent. That house, said the cardinal, hesitatingly, is it not called Schoenblum? She again made a gesture of ascent. They were written on a table of cherry wood, with a golden bodkin, by an august hand. Yes, Mount Oliva again. The cardinal stopped, he tottered, and leaned against a pillar for support. Madame de la Motte stood by, watching this strange scene. Then the cardinal, touching the Blue Domino, said, this is the conclusion of the quotation, but he who sees everywhere the loved object who recognizes her by a flower, by a perfume, through the thickest veils, he can still be silent, his voice is in his heart, and if one other understands him, he is happy. Oh, they are speaking German here, said a young voice from an approaching group. Let us listen. Do you speak German, Marshal? No, Monsignor. You, Chani? Yes, your Highness. Here is M. Le Condar-toi, said all of us softly to her companion. A crowd followed them, and many were pressing round. Take care, gentlemen, said the Blue Domino. M. replied the Prince. The people are pushing us. At this moment some invisible hand pulled all of us hood from behind, and her mask fell. She replaced it as quickly as possible, with a half-terrified cry, which was echoed by one of the affected disquiet from her companion. Several others around looked no little bewildered. The cardinal nearly fainted, and Madame de la Motte supported him. The pressure of the crowd separated the Condar-toi and his party from them. Then the Blue Domino approached the cardinal and said, this is indeed an irreparable misfortune. This lady's honour is at your mercy. Oh, Monsieur, murmured the cardinal, who was much agitated. Let us go quickly, said the Blue Domino to Oliva, and they moved away. Now I know, said Madame de la Motte to herself, what the cardinal meant was impossible. He took this woman for the Queen. But what an effect it has had on him. Would you like to leave the ball, asked Monsieur de Rouen in a feeble voice? As you please, Monsignor, replied Jean, I do not find much interest here to you. None at all. They pushed their way through the crowd. The cardinal, who was tall, looked all around him to try and see again the vision which had disappeared. But Blue, White, and Grey Dominoes were everywhere, and he could distinguish no one. They had been some time in the carriage, and he had not yet spoken to Jean. End of Chapter 23 Chapter 24 of The Queen's Necklace by Alexandre Dumas The translator is unknown. This Liberox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Gael Timmerman Vaughn. Chapter 24 The Examination At last Jean said, Where is this carriage taking me to, cardinal? Back to your house, Countess. To my house, in the Faubourg. Yes, Countess. A very small house to contain so many charms. They soon stopped. Jean alighted, and he was preparing to follow her but she stopped him and said, It is very late, cardinal. Adieu then, said he, and he drove away, absorbed with the scene at the ball. Jean entered alone into her new house. Ex-Lacquies waited for her in the hall, and she looked at them as calmly as though she had been used to it all her life. Where are my fam de Chambre? said she. One of the men advanced respectfully. Two women wait for Madame in her room. Call them. Le Valet obeyed. Where do you usually sleep? said Jean to them, when they entered. We have no places yet, said one of them. We can sleep wherever Madame pleases. Where are the keys? Here Madame. Well, for this night you shall sleep out of the house. The women looked at her in surprise. You have some place to go, said Jean. Certainly Madame, but it is late. Still if Madame wishes. And these men can accompany you. She continued, dismissing the Valets also, who seemed rather pleased. When shall we return? asked one of them. Tomorrow, at noon, they seemed more astonished than ever, but Jean looked so imperious that they did not speak. Is there anyone else here? She asked. No one, Madame. It is impossible for Madame to remain like this. Surely you must have someone here. I want no one. The house might take fire. Madame might be ill. Go, all of you, said Jean, and take this, had it she giving the money from her purse. They all thanked her and disappeared, saying to each other that they had found a strange mistress. Jean then unlocked the doors and said triumphantly, now I am alone here in my own house. She now commenced an examination, admiring each thing individually. The ground floor contained a bathroom, dining room, three drawing rooms, and two morning rooms. The furniture of these rooms was handsome, though not new. It pleased John better than if it had been furnished expressly for her. All the rich antiques, disdained by fashionable ladies, the marvellous pieces of carved ebony, the glass lusters, the Gothic clocks, chef duvet of carving and enamel, the screens with embroidered Chinese figures, and the immense vases threw Jean into indescribable raptures. Here on a chimneypiece two gilded tritons were bearing branches of coral, upon which were hung jeweled fruits. In another place on a gilded console table was an enormous elephant, with sapphires hanging from his ears, supporting a tower filled with little bottles of scent. Books and gilt bindings were on rosewood shelves. One room was held with goblin tapestry and furnished in gray and gold. Another paneled in paintings by Vernet. The small rooms contained pictures. The whole was evidently the collection of years. John examined it all with delight. Then, as her domino was inconvenient, she went into her room to put on a dressing-cown of wadded silk, and, secure of meeting no one, she wandered from room to room, continuing her examination. Till at last her light nearly exhausted. She returned to her bedroom, which was hung with embroidered blue satin. She had seen everything, and admired everything. Her only remained herself to be admired, and she thought, as she undressed before the long mirror, that she was not the object least worthy of admiration in the place. At last we read out with pleasurable excitement. She went to bed, and soon sank to sleep. End of Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Of the Queen's Necklace by Alexandre Dumas. The translator is unknown. The Slipper-Rox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Gael Timmerman Vaughn. Chapter 25 The Academy of Missy-Beaussier. Beaussier had followed the advice of the Blue Domino, and repaired to the place of meeting in the Rue du Po-au-Faire. He was frightened by the apparent exclusion, which his companions had seemed to meditate, in not communicating their plans to him, and he knew none of them to be particularly scrupulous. He had acquired the reputation among them of a man to be feared. It was not wonderful, as he had been a soldier, and wore a uniform. He knew how to draw his sword, and he had the habit of looking very fierce at the slightest word that displeased him. All things which appear rather terrifying to those of doubtful courage, especially when they have reason to shun the éclat of a duel and the curiosity of the police. Beaussier counted, therefore, on revenging himself by frightening them a little. It was a long way, but Beaussier had money in his pocket, so he took a coach, promised the driver an extra franc to go fast, and, to make up for the absence of his sword, he assumed as fierce a look as he could on entering the room. It was a large hall full of tables, at which were seated about twenty players drinking beer or syrups, and smiling now and then on some highly-rooged women who sat near them. They were playing faro at the principal table, but the stakes were low, and the excitement small in proportion. On the entrance of the domino all the women smiled at him, half in railery, half in coquetry, for Monsieur Beaussier was a favorite among them. However he advanced in silence, to the table without noticing any one. One of the players, who was a good-humoured-looking fellow, said to him, "'Caubre bleu, Chevalier! You come from the ball looking out of sorts.' "'Is your domino uncomfortable?' said another. "'No, it is not my domino,' replied Beaussier gruffly. "'Oh!' said the banker. He has been unfaithful to us, he has been playing somewhere else, and lost. "'It is not I who am unfaithful to my friends, I am incapable of it. I leave that to others.' "'What do you mean, dear Chevalier? I know what I mean. I thought I had friends here.' "'Certainly,' replied several voices. While I was deceived. "'How?' "'You plan things without me.' Several of the members began to protest. It was not true. "'I know better,' said Beaussier, and these false friends shall be punished. He put his hand to his side of hill for his sword, but as it was not there, he only shook his pocket, and the gold rattled. "'Oh!' said the banker. "'Mr. Beaussier has not lost. Come will you play.' "'Thanks,' said Beaussier. "'I will keep what I have got.' "'Only one Louis,' said one of the women caressingly. "'I do not play for miserable Louis,' said he. "'We play for millions here tonight, yes, gentlemen, millions.' He had worked himself up into a great state of excitement, and was losing sight of all prudence, when a blow from behind made him turn, and he saw by him a great dark figure, stiff and upright, with two shining black eyes. He met Beaussier's furious glance, with a ceremonious bow. "'The Portuguese,' said Beaussier. "'The Portuguese,' echoed the ladies, who abandoned Beaussier to crowd round the newcomer, he being there a special pet, as he was in the habit of bringing them sweetmeats, sometimes wrapped up in notes of forty or fifty francs. This man was one of the twelve associates. He was used as a bait at their society. It was a great that he should lose a hundred Louis a week, as an inducement to all our strangers to play. He was therefore considered a useful man. He was also an agreeable one, and was held in much consideration. Beaussier became silent on seeing him. The Portuguese took his place at the table and put down twenty Louis, which he soon lost, thereby making some of those who had been stripped before forget their losses. All the money received by the banker was dropped into a well under the table, and he was forbidden to wear long sleeves, lest he should conceal any within them, although the other members generally took the liberty of searching both sleeves and pockets before they left. Several now put on their great coats and took leave, some happy enough to escort the ladies. "'A few, however, after making a faint to go return to another room and hear the twelve associates, soon found themselves united. "'Now we will have an explanation,' said Beaussier. "'Do not speak so loud,' said the Portuguese in good French. Then they examined the doors and windows to make certain that all was secure, drew their curtain close, and seated themselves. "'I have a communication to make,' said the Portuguese. "'It was lucky, however, I arrived when I did, for Monsieur de Beaussier was seized this evening with a most imprudent flow of eloquence.' Beaussier tried to speak. "'Silence,' said the Portuguese. "'Let us not waste words you know my ideas beforehand very well. You are a man of talent and may have guessed it, but I think a more propre should never overcome self-interest. "'I do not understand.' "'Monsieur Beaussier hoped to be the first to make this proposition.' "'What proposition?' cried the rest. "'Conturning a two million francs,' said Beaussier. "'Two million francs?' cried they. "'First,' said the Portuguese. "'You exaggerate. "'It is not as much as that.' "'We do not know what you are talking of,' said the banker. "'But are not less all ears,' said another. "'The Portuguese drank off a large glass of Orgiat and then began. "'The necklace is not worth more than one million five hundred thousand francs.' "'Oh, then it concerns a necklace,' said Beaussier. "'Yes, did you not mean the same thing?' "'Perhaps.' "'Now he is going to be discreet after his former folly, "'said the Portuguese. "'But time presses, for the ambassador will arrive in eight days.' "'This matter becomes complicated,' said the banker. "'A necklace, one million five hundred thousand francs, "'and an ambassador.' "'Pray explain.' "'In a few words,' said the Portuguese. "'Monsieur Spomer and Beaussier offered to the Queen "'and Nicholas worth that sum. "'She refused it and now they do not know what to do "'with it, for none but a royal fortune could buy it. "'Well, I have found the royal personage who will buy this necklace, and obtain the custody of it from Messers Bomer and Beaussange, and that is my gracious sovereign, the Queen of Portugal. "'We understand it less than ever,' said the associates. "'And I not at all,' thought Beaussier. Then he said aloud, "'Explain yourself clearly, dear Monsieur Manuel, "'our private differences should give place to the public interests.' "'I acknowledge you, the author of the idea, "'and renounce all right to its paternity. "'Their forespeak on.' "'Willingly,' said Manuel, drinking a second glass of Orgiate. "'The embassy is vacant just now. "'The new ambassador, Monsieur de Souza, will not arrive for a week. "'Well, he may arrive sooner. "'They all look stupefied, but Beaussier, who said, "'Do you not see some ambassador whether true or false?' "'Exactly,' said Manuel. "'And the ambassador who arrived may desire to buy this necklace for the Queen of Portugal and read accordingly "'with Messers Bomer and Beaussange. "'That is all.' "'But,' said the banker, they would not allow such a necklace "'to pass into the hands of Monsieur de Souza himself without "'very good security.' "'Oh, I have thought of all that. "'The ambassador's house is vacant, with the exception of "'the Chancellor, who is a Frenchman, and speaks bad Portuguese. "'And he was therefore delighted when the Portuguese speak "'French to him, as he does not betray himself, "'but who likes to speak Portuguese to the French, "'as it sounds grand.' "'Well, we will present ourselves to this Chancellor "'with all the appearances of a new legation. "'Appearances are something,' said Beaussier, "'but the credentials are much more. "'We will have them,' replied Manuel. "'No one can deny that Don Manuel is an invaluable man,' said Beaussier. "'Well, our appearances and the credentials having "'convinced the Chancellor of our identity, we will establish "'ourselves at the house.' "'That is pretty bold,' said Beaussier. "'It is necessary and quite easy,' said Manuel. "'The Chancellor will be convinced, and if he should afterwards "'become less credulous, we will dismiss him. "'I believe an ambassador has the right to change his "'Chancellor, certainly. "'Then when we are masters of the hotel, our first operation, "'will be to wait on Messers Boemer and Beaussange.' "'But you forget one thing,' said Beaussier. "'Our first act should be to ask an audience of the king, "'and then we should break down. "'The famous Risa Bay, who was presented to Louis XIV "'as an ambassador from the show of Persia, "'spoke Persian at least, and there were no salvants here "'capable of knowing how well. "'But we should be found out at once. "'We should be told that our Portuguese was remarkably French, "'and we should be sent to the Bastille. "'We will escape this danger by remaining quietly at home. "'Then Messier Boemer will not believe in our ambassadorship. "'Messier Boemer will be told that we are sent merely "'to buy the necklace. "'We will show him our order to do this, "'as we shall before have shown it to the Chancellor. "'Only we must try to avoid showing it to the ministers, "'for they are suspicious, "'and might find a host of little flanks. "'Oh yes,' cried they all, "'let us avoid the ministers. "'But if Messers Boemer and Beaussange require money on account, "'asked Beaussier. "'That would complicate the affair certainly.' "'Four,' continued Beaussier. "'It is usual for an ambassador to have letters of credit, "'at least, if not ready money, and here we should fail. "'You find plenty of reasons why it should fail,' said Manuel, "'but nothing to make it succeed. "'It is because I wish it to succeed, "'that I speak of the difficulties. "'But stop,' a thought strikes me. "'And every ambassador's house there is a strongbox. "'Yes, but it may be empty. "'Well, if it be, we must ask Messers Boemer and Beaussange, "'who are their correspondents at Lisbon, "'and we will sign and stamp for them, "'letters of credit, for the sum demanded.' "'That will do,' said Manuel. "'I was engrossed with a grand idea, "'but had not sufficiently considered the details.' "'Now let us think of arranging the parts,' said Boemer. "'Don Manuel will be the ambassador.' "'Certainly,' they all said. "'And Messers Boemer and Beaussange are my secretary "'and interpreter,' said Manuel. "'Why so?' said Beaussier, rather uneasily. "'I am Messier de Souza and must not speak a word of French, "'for I know that that gentleman speaks nothing but Portuguese, "'and very little of that. "'You, on the contrary, I miss your Beaussier, "'who have traveled and have acquired French habits, "'who speak Portuguese also, very badly,' said Beaussier. "'Quite enough to deceive a Parisienne. "'And then you know the most useful agents "'will have the largest shares.' "'Assuredly,' said the others. "'Well, it is agreed. "'I am secretary and interpreter. "'Then, as to the money, it shall be divided into twelve parts. "'But I, as ambassador and author of the scheme, "'shall have a share and a half. "'Miss you, Beaussier, the same, as interpreter, "'and because you partly shared my idea, "'and also a share and a half to him who sells the jewels. "'So far, then, it is settled. "'We will arrange the minor details tomorrow, "'for it is very late,' said Beaussier, "'who was thinking of Oliva left at the ball "'with a blue domino towards whom, "'in spite of his readiness in giving oil Louis d'or, "'he did not feel very friendly. "'No, no, we will finish it once,' said the others. "'What is to be prepared?' "'A traveling carriage with the arms of Monsieur de Souza,' said Beaussier. "'That would take too long to paint and to dry,' said Manuel. "'Then we must say that the ambassador's carriage "'broke down on the way, "'and he was forced to use that of the secretary. "'I must have a carriage, and my arms will do for that. "'Besides, we will have plenty of bruises "'and injuries on the carriage, "'and especially round the arms, "'and no one will think of them. "'But the rest of the embassy? "'We will arrive in the evening. "'It is the best time to make a debut. "'And you shall all follow the next day "'when we have prepared the way. "'Very well. "'But every ambassador besides the secretary "'must have a valet de chambre.' "'You, captain,' said done Manuel, "'adressing one of his gang, "'shall take this part,' the captain bowed. "'And the money for the purchases,' said Manuel. "'I have nothing. "'I have a little,' said Bossiere. "'But it belongs to my mistress. "'What have we in our fund?' "'Your keys, gentlemen,' said the banker. "'Each drew out a key which opened one of twelve locks "'in the table, so that none of these honest associates "'could open it without all the others. "'They went to look. "'198 Louis, beside the reserve fund,' said the banker, "'give them to Mr. Bossiere and me. "'It is not too much,' said Manuel. "'Give us two-thirds and leave the rest,' said Bossiere, "'with a generosity which won all their hearts.' "'Don Manuel and Bossiere received, therefore, "'132 Louis and 66 remained for the others. "'They then separated, having fixed a rendezvous "'for the next day. "'Bossiere rolled up his domino under his arm "'and hastened to the road Dauphine, "'where he hoped to find Oliver "'in possession of some new Louis d'Or.' "'End of Chapter 25.' "'Chapter 26 of the Queen's Necklace. "'By Alexandre Dumas. "'The translator is unknown. "'This Librivox recording is in the public domain. "'Recording by Gael Timmerman Vaughn. "'Chapter 26, the Ambassador. "'On the evening of the next day, "'a traveling carriage passed through the barrières d'enfer, "'so covered with dust and scratches "'that no one could discern the arms. "'The four horses that drew it went at a rapid pace, "'until it arrived before an hotel "'of handsome appearance in the rue de la Jussienne, "'at the door of which two men, "'one of whom was in full dress, were waiting. "'The carriage entered the courtyard of the hotel, "'and one of the persons waiting approached the door "'and commenced speaking in bad Portuguese. "'Who are you?' said a voice from the inside, "'speaking the language perfectly. "'The unworthy Chancellor of the Embassy, Your Excellency. "'Very well, Mons, do help badly. "'You speak our language. "'Mind your Chancellor. "'But where are we to go? "'This way, Monsignor. "'This is a poor reception,' said Don Manuel. "'As he got out of the carriage leaning on the arms "'of his secretary and valet. "'Your Excellency must pardon me,' said the Chancellor. "'But the courier announcing your arrival "'only reached the hotel at two o'clock today. "'I was absent on some business, "'and when I returned, found your Excellency's letter. "'I have only had time to have the rooms opened and lighted. "'Very good. "'It gives me great pleasure to see the illustrious person "'of our ambassador. "'We desire to keep as quiet as possible,' said Don Manuel, "'until we receive further orders from Lisbon. "'But pray show me to my room, for I am dying with fatigue. "'My secretary will give you all necessary directions.' "'The Chancellor bowed respectfully to Bossiere, "'who returned it, and then said, "'We will speak French, sir. "'I think it will be better for both of us.' "'Yes,' murmured the Chancellor. "'I shall be more at my ease, "'for I confess that my pronunciation. "'So I hear,' interrupted Bossiere. "'I will take the liberty to say to you, sir, "'as you seem so amiable, "'that I trust M. de Souza will not be annoyed "'and my speaking such bad Portuguese.' "'Oh, not at all, as you speak French.' "'French,' cried the Chancellor. "'I was born in the Rue Saint-Honoré.' "'Oh, that will do,' said Bossiere. "'Your name is Ducourneux. Is it not?' "'Yes, M. de Souza, rather a lucky one, "'as it has a Spanish termination. "'It is very flattering to me that M. de Souza knew my name. "'Oh, you are well known, so well, "'that we did not bring a Chancellor from Lisbon with us. "'I am very grateful, M. de Souza, "'but I think M. de Souza is ringing. "'Let us go and see.' "'They found Manuel attired in a magnificent dressing gown. "'Several boxes and dressing cases of rich appearance "'were already unpacked and lying about. "'Enter,' said he to the Chancellor. "'Will his Excellency be angry if I answer in French,' said Ducourneux, in a low voice to Bossiere. "'Oh, no, I am sure of it. "'M. de Ducourneux, therefore, "'pay the compliments in French. "'Oh, it is very convenient that you speak French, "'so well, M. de Ducourneux,' said the Ambassador. "'He takes me for a Portuguese,' thought the Chancellor with joy. "'Now,' said Manuel, "'can I have supper? "'Certainly your Excellency. "'The Palais Royale is only two steps from here, "'and I know an excellent restaurant from which your Excellency "'can have a good supper in a very short time. "'Order it in your own name, if you please, M. de Ducourneux. "'And if your Excellency will permit me, "'I will add to it some bottles of capital wine.' "'Oh, our Chancellor keeps a good cellar, then,' said Bosseer, jokingly. "'It is my only luxury,' replied he. "'And now by the wax lights they could remark his rather red nose "'and puffed cheeks. "'Very well, M. de Ducourneux, bring your wine and suck with us. "'Such an honour!' "'Oh, no etiquette to-night. "'I am only a traveller. "'I shall not begin to be Ambassador until to-morrow. "'Then we will talk of business. "'M. de Ducourneux will permit me to arrange my toilette. "'Oh, you are superb already,' said Bosseer. "'Yes, but this is a reception dress, and not a gala one. "'Remain as you are, M. de Ducourneux, "'and give the time to expediting our supper.' "'Ducourneux, delighted, left the room to fulfil his orders. "'Then the three rogues left together began to discuss their affairs. "'Does this Chancellor sleep here?' said Manuel. "'No, the fellow has a good cellar, "'and I doubt not, us not lodging, somewhere or other. "'He is an old bachelor. "'There is a Suisse. "'He must get rid of him. "'And there are a few valets whom we must replace to-morrow, "'with our own friends. "'Who is in the kitchen department?' "'No one. The old ambassador did not live here. "'He had a house in the town.' "'What about the strongbox?' "'Oh, on that point we must consult the Chancellor. "'It is a delicate matter. "'I charged myself with it,' said Bosseer. "'We are already capital friends.' "'Hush! Here he comes.' "'Ducourneux entered quite out of breath. "'He had ordered the supper and fetched six bottles of wine "'from his cellar, and was looking quite radiant "'at the thoughts of the coming repast. "'Will your Excellency descend to the dining-room? "'No, we will sup up here. "'Here is the wine, then,' said Ducourneux. "'It sparkles like rubies,' said Bosseer, "'holding it to the light. "'Sit down, Monsieur Ducourneux. "'My valley will wait upon us. "'What day do the last dispatches arrive? "'Immediately after the departure "'of your Excellency's predecessor. "'Are the affairs of the Embassy in good order? "'Yes, Monsignor. "'No money difficulties, no debts. "'Not that I know of. "'Because if there are, we must begin by paying them. "'Oh, your Excellency will have nothing of that sort to do. "'All the accounts were paid up three weeks ago, "'and the day after the departure of the late Ambassador "'100,000 francs arrived here. "'100,000 francs,' said Bosseer. "'Yes, in gold.' "'So,' said Bosseer, the box contains, "'100,380 francs, Monsieur. "'It is not much,' said Manuel Coldly. "'But happily Her Majesty has placed funds at my disposal. "'I told you, continued he turning to Bosseer, "'than I thought we should need it at Paris. "'Your Excellency took wise precautions,' said Bosseer, "'respectfully. "'From the time of this important communication, "'the hilarity of the party went on increasing. "'A good supper, consisting of salmon, crabs, and sweets, "'contributed to their satisfaction. "'Ducourneau quieted his ease, eight enough for ten, "'and did not fail either in demonstrating "'that a Parisian could do honour to Port and Sherry.'" End of Chapter 26 Chapter 27 of the Queen's Necklace by Alexandre Dumas. The translator is unknown. This Librevox recording is in the public domain, recording by Gael Timmerman Vaughn. Chapter 27, Messers Beaumet and Beausange. Monsieur Ducourneau blessed heaven repeatedly for sending an ambassador who preferred his speaking French to Portuguese, and liked Portuguese wines better than French ones. At last Manuel expressed a wish to go to bed. Ducourneau rose and left the room, although it must be confessed he found some difficulty in the operation. It was now the turn of the valet to have supper, which he did with great goodwill. The next day the hotel assumed an air of business, all the bureaus were open, and everything indicated life in the recently deserted place. The report soon spread in the neighbourhood that some great personages had arrived from Portugal during the night. This, although what was wanted to give them credit, could not but inspire the conspirators with some alarm, for the police had quick ears and argus eyes. Still, they thought that by audacity, combined with prudence, they might easily keep them from becoming suspicious until they had had time to complete their business. Two carriages containing the other nine associates arrived, as agreed upon, and they were soon installed in their different departments. Monsieur induced Ducourneau himself to dismiss the porter on the ground that he did not speak Portuguese. They were therefore in a good situation to keep off all unwelcome visitors. About noon, Don Manuel, gaily dressed, got into a carriage, which they had hired for five hundred francs a month, and set out with his secretary for the residence of Monsieur Beaumé and Bossange. Their servant knocked at the door, which was secured with immense locks and studded with great nails, like that of a prison. A servant opened it. His excellency, the ambassador of Portugal, desires to speak to Monsieur Beaumé and Bossange. They got out and Monsieur Beaumé came to them in a few moments and received them with a profusion of polite speeches. But seeing that the ambassador did not deign even a smile and reply, but somewhat disconcerted, his excellency does not speak or understand French, sir. And you must communicate to him through me if you do not speak Portuguese, said Bossier. No, Monsieur, I do not. Manuel then spoke in Portuguese to Bossier, who, turning to Monsieur Beaumé, said, his excellency, Monsieur Lecombe de Souza, ambassador from the Queen of Portugal, desires me to ask you if you have not in your possession a beautiful diamond necklace. Beaumé looked at him scrutinizingly. A beautiful diamond necklace, repeated he, the one which you offered to the Queen of France in which our gracious Queen has heard of. Monsieur, said Beaumé, is an officer of the ambassadors. His secretary, Monsieur. Don Manuel was seated with the air of a great man, looking carelessly at the pictures which hung round the room. Monsieur Beaumé, said Bossier, abruptly. Do you not understand what I am saying to you? Yes, sir, answered Beaumé, rather startled by the manner of the secretary. Because I see his excellency is becoming impatient. Excuse me, sir, said Beaumé, coloring, but I dare not show the necklace, except in my partner's presence. Well, sir, call your partner. Don Manuel approached Bossier and began again talking to him in Portuguese. His excellency says, interpreted he, that he has already waited ten minutes and that he is not accustomed to be kept waiting. Beaumé bowed and rang the bell. A minute afterwards Monsieur Bossier entered. Beaumé explained the matter to him who, after looking scrutinizingly at the Portuguese, left the room with a key given him by his partner and soon returned with a case in one hand. The other was hidden under his coat, but they distinctly saw the shining barrel of a pistol. However well we may look, said Manuel gravely in Portuguese to his companion. These gentlemen seemed to take us for pickpockets rather than ambassadors. Monsieur Bossier advanced and put the case into the hands of Manuel. He opened it and then cried angrily to his secretary. Monsieur, tell these gentlemen that they tire my patience. I ask for a diamond necklace and they bring me paste. Tell them I will complain to the ministers and we'll have them thrown into the Bastille, impertinent people who play tricks upon an ambassador. And he threw down the case in such a passion that they did not need an interpretation of his speech, but began explaining most humbly that in France it was usual to show only the models of diamonds, so as not to tempt people to robbery. Were they so inclined? Manuel was an indignant gesture walked towards the door. His excellency desires me to tell you, said Bossier, that he is sorry that people like Monsieur, Beaumé and Bossange, jewelers to the Queen, should not know better how to distinguish an ambassador from a rogue and then he will return to his hotel. The jewelers began to utter most respectful protestations, but Manuel walked on and Bossier followed him. To the ambassador's hotel, Rue de la Jussienne, said Bossier to the footmen, a lost business, grown the valet as they set off. On the contrary, a safe one. In an hour these men will follow us. End of Chapter 27, Chapter 28 of the Queen's Necklace by Alexandre Dumas. The translator is unknown. This Libre Rock's recording is in the public domain. Recording by Gail Timmerman Vaughn. Chapter 28, the ambassador's hotel. On returning to their hotel, these gentlemen found du chrono dining quietly in his bureau. Bossier desired him when he had finished to go up and see the ambassador and added, you will see my dear Chancellor, that Monsieur de Sousa is not an ordinary man. I see that already. His excellency continued Bossier, wishes to take a distinguished position in Paris and this residence will be insupportable to him. He will require a private house. That will complicate the diplomatic business, said du chrono. We shall have to go so often to obtain his signature. His excellency will give you a carriage, Monsieur du chrono. A carriage for me, certainly. Every Chancellor of a great ambassador should have a carriage. But we will talk of that afterwards. His excellency wishes to know where the strongbox is, upstairs, close to his own room. So far from you, for greater safety, sir, robbers would find greater difficulty in penetrating there than here on the ground floor. Robbers, said Bossier disdainfully, for such a little sum. 100,000 francs, said du chrono. It is easy to see Monsieur de Sousa is rich, but there is not more kept in any ambassador's house in Europe. Shall we examine it now, said Bossier? I am rather in a hurry to attend to my own business. Immediately, Monsieur, they went up and the money was found all right. Du chrono gave his key to Bossier, who kept it for some time, pretending to admire its ingenious construction, while he cleverly took the impression of it in wax. Then he gave it back, saying, keep it, Monsieur du chrono, it is better in your hands than in mine. Let us now go to the ambassador. They found Don Manuel drinking chocolate and apparently much occupied with a paper covered with ciphers. Do you understand the ciphers used in the late correspondence? Said he to the Chancellor. I know your excellency. I should wish you to learn it. It will save me a great deal of trouble. What about the box? Said he to Bossier. Perfectly correct, like everything else, with which Monsieur du chrono has any connection. Well, sit down, Monsieur du chrono. I want you to give me some information. Do you know an honest jeweler in Paris? There are Monsieur Bommet and Bossange, jewelers to the Queen, but they are precisely the people I do not wish to employ. I have just quitted them never to return. Have they had the misfortune to displease your excellency? Seriously, Monsieur du chrono. Oh, if I dare to speak, you may. I would ask how these people who bear so high a name. They are perfect jews, Monsieur du chrono, and their bad behavior will make them lose a million or two. I was sent by her gracious majesty to make an offer to them for a diamond necklace. Oh, the famous necklace which had been ordered by the late King from Madame du Paris. You are a valuable man, sir, you know everything. Oh, now I shall not buy it. Shall I interfere? Monsieur du chrono. Oh, only as a diplomatic affair. If he knew them at all. Bossange is a distant relation of mine. At this moment, a valet opened the door and announced Monsieur Bommet and Bossange. Don Manuel rose quickly and said in those angry tones, send those people away. The valet made a step forward. No, you do it, he said to the secretary. I beg you to allow me, said du chrono, and the advance to meet them. There, this affair is destined to fail, said Manuel. No, du chrono will arrange it. I am convinced he will embroil it. You said at the jewelers that I did not understand French, and du chrono will let out that I do. I will go, said Bossiere. Perhaps that is equally dangerous. Oh no, only leave me to act. Bossiere went down. Du chrono had found the jewelers much more disposed of politeness and confidence since entering the hotel. And also on seeing an old friend, Bossange was delighted. You here, said he, and he approached to embrace him. Ah, you are very amiable today, my rich cousin, said du chrono. Oh, said Bossange, if we have been a little separated forgive and rend me a service, I came to do it. Thanks, you are then attached to the embassy? Yes. On what advice? On what? On this embassy. I am the Chancellor. That is well, but about the Ambassador? I come to you on his behalf to tell you that he begs you to leave his hotel as quickly as possible. The two jewelers looked at each other disconcerted. Because, continued du chrono, it seems you have been uncivil to him. But listen, it is useless, said Bossiere, who suddenly appeared. His Excellency told you to dismiss them. Do it. But, Monsieur, I cannot listen, said Bossiere. The Chancellor took his relation by the shoulder and pushed him out saying, you have spoiled your fortune. Oh, Dieu, how susceptible these foreigners are! When one is called Souza and has nine hundred thousand francs a year, one has a right to be anything, said du chrono. Ah, Said Bossange, I told you Bonet, you were too stiff about it. Well, replied the opposite German, at least if we do not get his money, he will not get our necklace. Du chrono laughed. You do not understand either a Portuguese or an ambassador, Wershwah, that you are. I will tell you what they are. One ambassador, Monsieur de Potemkin, bought every year for his queen on the first of January, a basket of cherries which cost one hundred thousand crowns, one thousand francs a cherry. Well, Monsieur de Souza, will buy up the minds of Brazil till he finds a diamond as big as all yours put together. If it cost him twenty years of his income, what does he care? He has no children. And he was going to shut the door when Bossange said, arrange this affair, and you shall have. I am incorruptible, said he, and closed the door. That evening the ambassador received this letter. Monsignor, a man who waits for your orders and desires to present you, our respectful excuses is at the door of your hotel, and at a word from your Excellency he will place in the hands of one of your people the necklace of which you did us the honour to speak. I need to receive, Monsignor, the assurances of our most profound respect. Bommet and Bossange. Well, said Manuel, on reading this note, the necklace is ours. Not so, said Bossiere, it will only be ours when we have bought it. We must buy it, but remember your Excellency does not know French. Yes, I know, but this Chancellor, oh, I will send him away on some diplomatic mission. You are wrong. He will be our security with these men, but he will say that you know French. No, he will not. I will tell him not to do so. Very well, then. We will have up the man. The man was introduced. It was Bommet himself, who made many bows and excuses, and offered the necklace for examination. Sit down, said Bossiere. His Excellency pardons you. Oh, how much trouble to sell, sighed Bommet. How much trouble to steal, thought Bossiere. End of Chapter 28 Chapter 29 of the Queen's Necklace By Alexandre Dumas. The translator is unknown. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Gael Timmerman Vaughn. Chapter 29 The Bargain Then the Ambassador consented to examine the necklace in detail. Monsieur Bommet showed each individual beauty. On the whole, said Bossiere, interpreting for Manuel, his Excellency sees nothing to complain of in the necklace. But there are ten of the diamonds rather spotted. Oh, said Bommet. His Excellency, Interrupted Bossiere, understands diamonds perfectly. The Portuguese nobility play with the diamonds of Brazil, as children do here with goss beads. Whatever it may be, however, said Bommet, this necklace is the finest collection of diamonds in all Europe. That is true, said Manuel. Then Bossiere went on. Well, Monsieur Bommet, Her Majesty the Queen of Portugal, has heard of this necklace and has given Monsieur de Souza a commission to buy it, if he approved of the diamonds which he does. Now, what is the price? One million six hundred thousand francs. Bossiere repeated this to the Ambassador. It is one hundred thousand francs too much, replied Manuel. Montseigneur replied the jeweler. One cannot fix the exact price of the diamonds on a thing like this. It has been necessary in making this collection, to undertake voyages and make searches and inquiries, which no one would believe but myself. One hundred thousand francs too dear, repeated Manuel. And if His Excellency says this, said Bossiere, it must be his firm conviction, for he never bargains. Bommet was shaken. Nothing reassures a suspicious merchant so much as a customer who beats down the price. However, he said, after a minute's thought, I cannot consent to a deduction which will make all the difference of loss or profit to myself and my partner. Don Manuel, after hearing this, rose, and Bossiere returned the case to the jeweler. I will, however, speak to Monsieur Bossange about it, contained Bommet. I am to understand that His Excellency offers one million five hundred thousand francs for the necklace. Yes, he never draws back from what he has said, but, Monsieur, you understand that I must consult with my partner. Certainly, Monsieur Bommet, certainly repeated Don Manuel, after hearing this translated, but I must have a speedy answer, while Montseigneur of my partner will accept the price I will. Good. It then only remains, accepting the consent of Monsieur Bossange, to settle the mode of payment. There will be no difficulty about that, said Bossiere. How do you wish to be paid? Oh! said Bommet, laughing. If ready money be possible, what do you call ready money? said Bossiere codely. Oh! I know no one has a million and a half francs ready to pay down, said Bommet, sighing. Certainly not. Still, I cannot consent to dispense with some ready money. That is but reasonable. Then turning to Manuel. How much will your excellency pay down to Monsieur Bommet? One hundred thousand francs. Bossiere repeated this, and when the remainder asked Bommet, when we shall have had the time to send to Lisbon. Oh! said Bommet. We have a correspondent there, and by writing to him. Yes, said Bossiere, laughing ironically, write to him and ask if Monsieur de Sousa is solvent, and if Her Majesty be good for one million four hundred thousand francs. We cannot, sir, let this necklace leave France forever without informing the Queen, and our respect and loyalty demand that we should once more give her the refusal of it. It is just, said Manuel, with dignity. I should wish a Portuguese merchant to act in the same way. I am very happy that Monsignor approves my conduct. The null is settled subject only to the consent of Monsieur Bossange and the reiterated refusal of Her Majesty. I ask three days to settle these points. On one side said Bossiere, one hundred thousand francs down, the necklace to be placed in my hands, who will accompany you to Lisbon, to the honour of your correspondence, who are also our bankers, the haul of the money to be paid in three months. Yes, Monsignor, said Bommet bowing. Manuel returned it, and the jewelers took leave. When they were alone Manuel said angrily to Bossiere, pleased to explain what the devil you mean by this journey to Portugal are you mad? Why not have the jewels here in exchange for our money? You think yourself too really ambassador, replied Bossiere. You are not yet quite, Monsieur de Souza, to this jeweler. If he had not thought so, he would not have treated it. Agreed, but every man in possession of one million, five hundred thousand francs, holds himself above all the ambassadors in the world, and everyone who gives that value, in exchange for pieces of paper wishes first to know what the papers are worth. Then you mean to go to Portugal, you who cannot speak Portuguese properly? I tell you, you are mad. Not at all. You should go yourself if you like. Thank you, said Don Manuel. There are reasons why I would rather not return to Portugal. Well I tell you, Monsieur Bommet would never give up the diamonds from your papers. Paper signed Souza. I said you thought yourself a real Souza. Better say at once that we have found, said Manuel. Not at all. Come here, Captain, said Bossiere to the valet. You know what we are talking of? Yes. You have listened to everything, certainly. Very well do you think I have committed a folly? I think you are perfectly right. Explain why? Monsieur Bommet would, on the other plan, have been incessantly watching us, and all connected with us. Now with the money in the diamonds both in his hands, he can have no suspicion, but will set out quietly for Portugal, which, however, he will never reach. Is it not so, Monsieur Bossiere? Ah, you are a lad of discernment. Explain your plan, said Manuel. About fifty leagues from here, said Bossiere, this clever fellow here, will come and present two pistols at the heads of our pestilians, will steal from us all we have, including the diamonds, and will leave Monsieur Bommet half dead with blows. Oh, I did not understand exactly that, said the valet. I thought you would embark for Portugal. And then? Monsieur Bommet, like all Germans, will like the sea and walk on the deck. One day he may slip and fall over, and the necklace will be supposed to have perished with him. Oh, I understand, said Manuel. That is lucky at last. Only, replied Manuel, for stealing diamonds one is simply sent to the Bastille, but for murder one is hanged. But for stealing diamonds one may be taken. For a little push to Monsieur Bommet we should never even be suspected. Well, we will settle all this afterwards, said Bossiere. At present let us conduct our business in style so that they may say, if he was not really ambassador, at least, he seemed like one. CHAPTER 30 The Journalist's House It was the day after the agreement with Monsieur Bommet, and three days after the ball at the opera, in the Rue Montregoré, at the end of a courtyard, was a high and narrow house. The ground floor was a kind of shop, and here lived a tolerably well-known journalist. The other stories were occupied by quiet people, who lived there for cheapness. Monsieur Riteau, the journalist, published his paper weekly. It was issued on the day of which we speak, and when Monsieur Riteau rose at eight o'clock his servant brought him a copy, still went from the press. He hastened to peruse it with a care which a tender father bestows on the virtues or failings of his offspring. When he had finished it, Alderjand, said he to the old woman, this is a capital number, have you read it? Not yet. My soup is not finished. It is excellent, repeated the journalist. Yes, said she, but do you know what they say of it in the printing office? What? That you will certainly be sent to the Bastille. Alderjand replied, Riteau, calmly, make me a good soup, and do not meddle with literature. Here is the same, said she, rash and imprudent. I will buy you some buckles, with what I make today. How many copies have been sold yet? No, and I fear my buckles will be buck poor. Do you remember the number against Monsieur de Broglie? We sold one hundred before ten o'clock, therefore this cannot be as good. Do you know the difference, Alderjand? Now, instead of attacking an individual, I attack a body. And instead of a soldier, I attack a queen. As a queen? Oh, then there is no fear. The numbers will sell, and I shall have my buckles. Someone rings, said Riteau. The old woman ran to the shop, and returned a minute after, triumphant. One thousand copies, said she, there is an order. In whose name? Asked Riteau quickly. I do not know, but I want to know. Run and ask. Oh, there is plenty of time. They cannot count a thousand copies in a minute. Yes, but be quick. Ask the servant. Is it a servant? It is a porter. Well, ask him where he is to take them to. Alderjand went, and the man replied that he was to take them to the Rue Nerve Saint-Gilles, to the house of the Count de Cugley-Ostro. The journalist jumped with delight, and ran to assist in counting off the numbers. They were not gone long when there was another ring. Perhaps that is for another thousand copies, cried Alderjand. As it is against the Austrian, everyone will join the chorus. Hush, hush, Alderjand. Do not speak so loud, but go and see who it is. Alderjand opened the door to a man who asked if he could speak to the editor of the paper. What do you want to say to him? Ask Alderjand rather suspiciously. The man rattled some money in his pocket and said, I come to pay for the thousand copies, sent for by Monsieur Lecombe de Cugley-Ostro. Oh, come in. A young and handsome man, who had advanced just behind him, stopped him as he was about to shut the door and followed him in. Alderjand ran to her master. Come, said she, here is the money for the thousand copies. He went directly in the man, taking out a small bag, paid down one hundred six franc pieces. Grotto counted them and gave a receipt, smiling graciously on the man and said, Tell the count de Cugley-Ostro that I shall always be at his orders and that I can keep a secret. There is no need, replied the man. Monsieur de Cugley-Ostro is independent. He does not believe in magnetism and wishes to make people laugh at Monsieur Messmer. That is all. Good! replied another voice. We will see if we cannot turn the laugh against Monsieur de Cugley-Ostro. And Monsieur Grotto, turning, saw before him the young man we mentioned. His glance was menacing. He had his left hand on the hilt of his sword and a stick in his right. What can I do for you, sir? said Grotto, trembling. Are you Monsieur Grotto? asked the young man. Yes, sir. Journalist and author of this article said the visitor, drawing the new number from his pocket. Not exactly the author, but the publisher, said Grotto. Very well that comes to the same thing, for if you had not the audacity to write it. You have had the baseness to give it publicity. I say baseness, for, as I am a gentleman, I wish to keep within bounds, even with you. If I expressed all I think I should say, that he who wrote this article is infamous, and that he who published it is a villain. Monsieur, said Grotto, growing pale. Now listen, continued the young man. You have received one payment and money. Now you shall have another in caning. Oh! cried Grotto. We will see about that. Yes, we will see, said the young man advancing towards him. But Grotto was used to these sorts of affairs, and knew the conveniences of his own house. Turning quickly round, he gained a door which shut after him, and which opened into a passage leading to a gate, through which there was an exit into the rue Vieux-au-Castin. Once there he was safe, for in this gate the key was always lived, and he could lock it behind him. But this day was an unlucky one for the poor journalist. For just as he was about to turn the key, he saw coming towards him another young man who, in his agitation, appeared to him like a perfect Hercules. He would have retreated, but he was now between two fires, as his first opponent had by this time discovered him, and was advancing upon him. Monsieur, let me pass, if you please. Send Grotto to the young man who guarded the gate. Monsieur, cried the one who followed him, stopped the fellow I beg. Do not be afraid, Monsieur de Charny, he shall not pass. Monsieur de Tafene, cried Charny. For it was really he who was the first-comer. Both these young men, on reading the article that morning, had conceived the same idea, because they were animated with the same sentiments, and unknown to each other, had hastened to put it in practice. Each, however, felt a kind of displeasure at seeing the other, dividing a rival in the man who had the same idea as himself. Because it was, with a rather disturbed manner, Charny had called out, You, Monsieur de Tafene, even so replied the other in the same way. But it seems I am come too late, and can only look on unless you will be kind enough to open the gate. Oh, cried Grotto, do you want to murder me, gentlemen? No, said Charny. We do not want to murder you, but first we will ask a few questions, then we will see the end. You permit me to speak, Monsieur de Tafene? Certainly, sir. We have the precedents having arrived first. Charny bowed, then turning to Grotto said, You confess, then, that you have published against the Queen the playful little tale, as you call it, which appeared this morning in your paper. Monsieur, it is not against the Queen. Good, I only wanted that. You are very patient, sir, cried Philippe, who was boiling with rage outside the gate. Oh, be easy, sir, replied Charny. He shall lose nothing by waiting. Yes, but I also am waiting. Charny turned again to Grotto, a tiniotna is Antoinette transposed, oh, do not lie, sir, or instead of beating or simply killing you I shall bring you alive, but tell me if you are the sole author of this. I am not an informer, said Grotto. Very well that means that you have an accomplice, and first the man who bought a thousand copies of this infamy, the Count de Cagliostro, but he shall pay for his share when you have paid for yours. Monsieur, I do not accuse him, said Grotto, who feared that he should encounter the anger of Cagliostro after he had done with these two. Charny raised his cane. Oh, if I had a sword, cried Grotto. Monsieur Philippe, will you lend your sword to this man? No, Monsieur de Charny, I cannot lend my sword to a man like that, but I will lend you my cane if yours does not suffice. Corbleux, a cane, cried Grotto. Do you know that I am a gentleman? Then lend me your sword, Monsieur de Tavernais, he shall have mine, and I will never touch it again, replied Charny. Philippe unsheathed his sword, and passed it through the railings. Now, said Charny, throwing down his sword at the feet of Grotto, you call yourself a gentleman, and you write such infamies against the Queen of France. Pick up that sword, and let us see what kind of gentleman you are. But Grotto did not stir. He seemed as afraid of the sword at his feet as he had been of the uplifted cane. Corbleux, cried Philippe, open the gate to me. Pardon, Monsieur, said Charny, but you acknowledged my right to be first. Then be quick, for I am in a hurry to begin. I wish to try other methods before resorting to this, for I am not much more fond of inflicting a caning than Monsieur Grotto is of receiving one, but as he prefers it to fighting he shall be satisfied, and a cry from Grotto soon announced that Charny had begun. The noise soon attracted old Aldejaund, who joined her voice to her masters. Charny minded one no more than the other, but last however he stopped, tired of his work. Now have you finished, sir? said Philippe. Yes. Then pray return me my sword, and let me in. Oh, no, Monsieur, implored Grotto, who hoped for a protector in the man who had finished with him. I cannot leave Monsieur outside the door, said Charny. Oh, it is a murder! cried Grotto. Kill me right off, and have done with it. Be easy, said Charny. I do not think Monsieur will touch you. You are right, said Philippe. You have been beaten, let it suffice, but there are the remaining numbers which must be destroyed. Oh, yes, cried Charny. You see, two hits are better than one. I should have forgotten that. But how did you happen to come to this gate, Monsieur Deteffene? I made some inquiries in the neighborhood about this fellow, and hearing that he had this mode of escape, I thought by coming here, and locking the gate after me, I should cut off his retreat, and make sure of him. The same idea of vengeance struck you only more in a hurry. You came straight to his house, without any inquiries, and he would have escaped you, if I had not, luckily, been here. I am rejoiced that you were Monsieur Deteffene. Now, fellow, lead us to your press. It is not here. C'est Grotto. A lie. Said Charny. No, no, cried Philippe. We do not want the press. The numbers are all printed, and here, except those sold to Monsieur Deteffene Astro, and he shall burn them before our eyes. Then they pushed Grotto into his shop, end of chapter 30.