The Princesse de Lamballe entered beautiful and calm. Her hair drawn1 back from her noble forehead, her dark penciled eyebrows2, her clear blue eyes and beautiful lips, and her unrivaled figure, formed a lovely tout3 ensemble4. She seemed always surrounded by an atmosphere of virtue5 and grace.
The king looked at her with a troubled expression, dreading6 what he was about to hear; then bowing, said, “Sit down, princess.”
“What does your majesty7 desire?” asked she, in a sweet voice.
“Some information, princess: what day did you last go with the queen to Paris?”
“Wednesday, sire.”
“Pardon me, cousin,” said Louis XVI.; “but I wish to know the exact truth.”
“You will never hear anything else from me, sire.”
“What did you go there for?”
“I went to M. Mesmer’s, Place Vendôme.”
The two witnesses trembled. The king colored with delight.
“Alone?” asked the king.
“No, sire; with the queen.”
“With the queen?” cried Louis, seizing her hand.
“Yes, sire.”
M. de Provence and M. de Crosne looked stupefied.
“Your majesty had authorized8 the queen to go; at least, so she told me,” continued the princess.
“It was true, cousin: gentlemen, I breathe again; Madame de Lamballe never tells a falsehood.”
“Never, sire.”
“Oh, never, sire,” said M. de Crosne, with perfect sincerity9. “But will you permit me, sire?”
“Certainly, monsieur; question, search as much as you please; I place the princess at your disposal.”
Madame de Lamballe smiled. “I am ready,” she said.
“Madame,” said the lieutenant10 of police, “have the goodness to tell his majesty what you did there, and how the queen was dressed.”
“She had on a dress of gray taffeta, a mantle11 of embroidered12 muslin, an ermine muff, and a rose-colored velvet13 bonnet14, trimmed with black.”
M. de Crosne looked astonished. It was a totally different dress from that which he had had described to him. The Comte de Provence bit his lips with vexation, and the king rubbed his hands.
“What did you do on entering?” asked he.
“Sire, you are right to say on entering, for we had hardly entered the room——”
“Together?”
“Yes, sire; and we could scarcely have been seen, for every one was occupied with the experiments going on, when a lady approached the queen, and, offering her a mask, implored15 her to turn back.”
“And you stopped?”
“Yes, sire.”
“You never went through the rooms?” asked M. de Crosne.
“No, monsieur.”
“And you never quitted the queen?” asked the king.
“Not for a moment, sire. Her majesty never left my arm.”
“Now!” cried the king, “what do you say, M. de Crosne? and you, brother?”
“It is extraordinary, quite supernatural,” said the count, who affected16 a gaiety which could not conceal17 his disappointment.
“There is nothing supernatural,” said M. de Crosne, who felt real remorse18: “what Madame de Lamballe says is undoubtedly19 true; therefore my informants must have been mistaken.”
“Do you speak seriously, sir?” asked the count.
“Perfectly, monseigneur. Her majesty did what Madame de Lamballe states, and nothing more, I feel convinced; my agents were, somehow or other, deceived. As for this journalist, I will immediately send the order for his imprisonment20.”
Madame de Lamballe looked from one to the other with an expression of innocent curiosity.
“One moment,” said the king; “you spoke21 of a lady who came to stop you; tell us who she was?”
“Her majesty seemed to know her, sire.”
“Because, cousin, I must speak to this person; then we shall learn the key to this mystery.”
“That is my opinion also, sire,” said M. de Crosne.
“Did the queen tell you that she knew this person?” said the count.
“She told me so, monseigneur.”
“My brother means to say that you probably know her name.”
“Madame d............