CHAPTER LVI.

  THE CARDINAL DE ROHAN.

  Hardly had M. de Calonne traversed the gallery, when Madame de la Mottewas shown in to the queen.

  "Madame," said she, "the cardinal is here." She then introduced him, andtook her leave.

  The cardinal, finding himself alone with the queen, bowed respectfully,without raising his eyes.

  "Monsieur," said the queen, "I have heard of you what has effaced manywrongs."

  "Permit me, madame," said he, trembling with real emotion, "to assureyour majesty that these wrongs of which you speak I could explain in afew words."

  "I do not forbid you to justify yourself," replied she, with dignity;"but if what you are about to say throws the smallest shade upon myfamily or country, you will only wound me still more. Let us leave thissubject; and I will only see you under the fresh light, which shows youto me obliging, respectful, and devoted."

  "Devoted until death," replied he.

  "But," said Marie Antoinette, with a smile, "at present it is a questionnot of death, but of ruin; and I do not wish you devoted even so far.You shall live, and not be ruined, at least, not by me; for they say youare ruining yourself."

  "Madame!"

  "Oh! that is your own business; only, as a friend, I would counsel youto be economical--the king would like you better."

  "I would become a miser to please your majesty."

  "Oh, the king," replied she, with an accent on the word, "does not lovemisers either."

  "I will become whatever your majesty desires," replied he, with ahardly-disguised passion.

  "I said, then," continued she, "that you shall not be ruined for me.You have advanced money on my account, and I have the means of meetingthe calls; therefore, regard the affair for the future as in my hands."

  "To finish it, then, it only remains for me to offer the necklace toyour majesty;" and drawing out the case, he presented it to her.

  She took it, but did not open it, and laid it down by her side. Shereceived kindly all his polite speeches, but as she was longing to beleft alone with her diamonds, she began to answer somewhat absently.

  He thought she was embarrassed, and was delighted, thinking it showed,at least, an absence of indifference. He then kissed her hand, and tookleave, going away full of enthusiasm and hope.

  Jeanne was waiting for him in the carriage, and received his ardentprotestations with pleasure. "Well," said she, "shall you be Richelieuor Mazarin? Have her lips given you encouragement in ambition or love?Are you launched in politics or intrigue?"

  "Do not laugh, dear countess; I am full of happiness."

  "Already!"

  "Assist me, and in three weeks I may be a minister."

  "Peste! that is a long time; the next payment is in a fortnight."

  "Ah! the queen has money, and will pay, and I shall have only the meritof the intention. It is too little; I would willingly have paid for thisreconciliation with the whole sum."

  "Make yourself easy," replied the countess; "you shall have this meritif you desire it."

  "I should have preferred it; the queen would then have been under anobligation to me."

  "Monseigneur, something tells me you will have this satisfaction. Areyou prepared for it?"

  "I have mortgaged all my revenue for the ensuing year."

  "Then you have the money?"

  "Certainly, for this payment; after that, I do not know what I shalldo."

  "Oh, this payment will give you three quiet months; who knows what mayhappen in three months?"

  "That is true; but she said that the king wished me to incur no moredebt."

  "Two months in the ministry would set all straight."

  "Countess!"

  "Oh, do not be fastidious; if you do not assist yourself, others will."

  "You are right. Where are you going now?"

  "Back to the queen, to hear what she says of your interview."

  "Good! I go to Paris."

  "Why? You should go this evening to the 'jeu du roi;' it is good policyto keep your ground."

  "No, countess; I must attend a rendezvous, for which I received a notethis morning."

  "A rendezvous?"

  "Yes, and a serious one, by the contents of the note. Look."

  "A man's writing," said the countess; and, opening the note, she read:

  "MONSEIGNEUR,--Some one wishes to see you about raising an important sum of money. This person will wait on you this evening, at Paris, to solicit the honor of an interview."

  "Anonymous--some beggar?"

  "No, countess; no beggar would expose himself to the risk of beingbeaten by my servants. Besides, I fancy I have seen the writing before.So au revoir, countess."

  "Apropos, monseigneur, if you are going to get a windfall, some largesum, I understand we are to share."

  "Countess, you have brought me luck; I shall not be ungrateful." Andthey separated.

  The cardinal was full of happy dreams: the queen had received himkindly. He would place himself at the head of her party, and make it apopular one; he would protect her, and for her sake would abandon hisslothful life, and live an active one.

  As soon as he arrived at his hotel, he commenced burning a box full oflove-letters; then he called his steward to order some economicalreforms, and sat down to his history of English politics. Soon he hearda ring, and a servant entered to announce the person who had written tohim that morning.

  "Ask his name," said the cardinal.

  The man, having inquired, returned and said:

  "M. le Comte de Cagliostro."

  "Let him come in."

  The count entered.

  "Mon Dieu!" cried the cardinal, "is it possible? Joseph Balsamo, who wassupposed to have perished in the flames?"

  "Yes, monseigneur, more alive than ever."

  "But, sir, you have taken a new name."

  "Yes, monseigneur; the other recalled too many painful recollections.Possibly, you yourself would not have opened your door to JosephBalsamo."

  "I! oh yes, sir."

  "Then monseigneur has a better memory and more honesty than most men."

  "Monsieur, you once rendered me a service."

  "Am I not, monseigneur, a good specimen of the results of my elixir?"

  "I confess it, sir; but you seem above humanity--you, who distributehealth and gold to all."

  "Health perhaps, monseigneur, but not gold."

  "You make no more gold."

  "No, monseigneur."

  "Why?"

  "Because I lost the parcel of an indispensable ingredient which Althotasdiscovered, but of which I never had the receipt. He has carried thatsecret with him to the grave."

  "He is dead, then? How, could you not preserve the life of this man, souseful to you, as you have kept yourself through so many centuries?"

  "Because I can guard against illness, but not against such accidents askill before I can act."

  "He died from an accident, then?"

  "The fire in which you thought I died killed him; or rather he, weary oflife, chose to die."

  "It is strange."

  "No, it is natural; I have a hundred times thought of ending my life."

  "But you have not done so."

  "Because I enjoy a state of youth, in which health and pleasure kept mefrom ennui; but he had chosen one of old age. He was a savant, and caredonly for science; and thus youth, with its thousand pleasures, wouldhave constantly drawn him from its study. An old man meditates betterthan a young one. Althotas died a victim to his love of science: I leada worldly life, and do nothing--I live like a planet."

  "Oh, sir, your words and appearance bring to me dreams of my youth. Itis ten years since I saw you."

  "Yes; but if you are no longer a fine young man, you are a prince. Doyou remember the day when, in my cabinet, I promised you the love of thewoman whose fair locks I consulted?"

  The cardinal turned from pale to red. Terror and joy almost stopped thebeating of his heart.

  "I
remember," said he.

  "Ah, let me try if I can still play the magician. This fair child ofyour dreams----"

  "What is she doing now?"

  "Ah, I suspect you yourself have seen her to-day; indeed, you have notlong left her."

  The cardinal could hardly stand.

  "Oh, I beg, sir----" he cried.

  "Let us speak of something else," said Cagliostro, sitting down.