The Queen's Necklace Part 110

"Impossible!"

"Why so, monseigneur?"

"Because I have in my heart a love which will end only with my life."

"So I perceive," replied she, ironically; "and it is to arrive more quickly at this result that you persist in returning to the park; for most a.s.suredly, if you do, your love and your life will end together."

"Oh, countess, how fearful you are--you who were so brave yesterday!"

"I am always brave when there is no danger."

"But I have the bravery of my race, and am happier in the presence of danger."

"But permit me to tell you----"

"No, countess, the die is cast. Death, if it comes; but first, love. I shall return to Versailles."

"Alone, then."

"You abandon me?"

"And not I alone."

"She will come?"

"You deceive yourself; she will not come."

"Is that what you were sent to tell me?"

"It is what I have been preparing you for."

"She will see me no more?"

"Never; and it is I who have counseled it."

"Madame, do not plunge the knife into my heart!" cried he, in a doleful voice.

"It would be much more cruel, monseigneur, to let two foolish people destroy themselves for want of a little good advice."

"Countess, I would rather die."

"As regards yourself, that is easy; but, subject, you dare not dethrone your queen; man, you will not destroy a woman."

"But confess that you do not come in her name, that she does not throw me off."

"I speak in her name."

"It is only a delay she asks?"

"Take it as you wish; but obey her orders."

"The park is not the only place of meeting. There are a hundred safer spots--the queen can come to you, for instance."

"Monseigneur, not a word more. The weight of your secret is too much for me, and I believe her capable, in a fit of remorse, of confessing all to the king."

"Good G.o.d! impossible."

"If you saw her, you would pity her."

"What can I do then?"

"Insure your safety by your silence."

"But she will think I have forgotten her, and accuse me of being a coward."

"To save her."

"Can a woman forgive him who abandons her?"

"Do not judge her like others."

"I believe her great and strong. I love her for her courage and her n.o.ble heart. She may count on me, as I do on her. Once more I will see her, lay bare my heart to her; and whatever she then commands, I will sacredly obey."

Jeanne rose. "Go, then," said she, "but go alone. I have thrown the key of the park into the river. You can go to Versailles--I shall go to Switzerland or Holland. The further off I am when the sh.e.l.l bursts the better."

"Countess, you abandon me. With whom shall I talk of her?"

"Oh! you have the park and the echoes. You can teach them her name!"

"Countess, pity me; I am in despair."

"Well, but do not act in so childish and dangerous a manner. If you love her so much, guard her name, and if you are not totally without grat.i.tude, do not involve in your own ruin those who have served you through friends.h.i.+p. Swear to me not to attempt to see or speak to her for a fortnight, and I will remain, and may yet be of service to you.

But if you decide to brave all, I shall leave at once, and you must extricate yourself as you can."

"It is dreadful," murmured the cardinal; "the fall from so much happiness is overwhelming. I shall die of it."

"Suffering is always the consequence of love. Come, monseigneur, decide.

Am I to remain here, or start for Lausanne?"

"Remain, countess."

"You swear to obey me."

"On the faith of a Rohan."

"Good. Well, then, I forbid interviews, but not letters."

"Really! I may write?"