The queen, after leaving the king, felt deeply the danger she had been so nearly incurring1. She was therefore pleased with Jeanne, who had been the means of preventing it, and said to her, with a gracious smile:
“It is really fortunate, madame, that you prevented my prolonging my stay at M. Mesmer’s, for only think, they have taken advantage of my being there to say that I was under the influence of the magnetism2.”
“But,” said Madame de Lamballe, “it is very strange that the police should have been so deceived, and have affirmed that they saw the queen in the inner room.”
“It is strange,” said the queen; “and M. de Crosne is an honest man, and would not willingly injure me; but his agents may have been bought. I have enemies, dear Lamballe. Still there must have been some foundation for this tale. This infamous3 libel represents me as intoxicated4, and overcome to such a degree by the magnetic fluid, that I lost all control over myself, and all womanly reserve. Did any such scene take place, Madame la Comtesse? Was there any one who behaved like this?”
Jeanne colored; the secret once told, she lost all the fatal influence which she could now exercise over the queen’s destiny; therefore she again resolved to keep silent on this point.
“Madame,” said she, “there was a woman much agitated5 who attracted great attention by her contortions6 and cries.”
“Probably some actress or loose character.”
“Possibly, madame.”
“Countess, you replied very well to the king, and I will not forget you. How have you advanced in your own affairs?”
At this moment Madame de Misery7 came in, to say that Mademoiselle de Taverney wished to know if her majesty8 would receive her.
“Assuredly,” said the queen. “How ceremonious you always are, Andrée; why do you stand so much upon etiquette9?”
“Your majesty is too good to me.”
Madame de Lamballe now availed herself of Andrée’s entrance to take leave.
“Well, Andrée,” the queen then said, “here is this lady whom we went to see the other day.”
“I recognize madame,” said Andrée, bowing.
“Do you know what they have been saying of me?”
“Yes, madame; M. de Provence has been repeating the story.”
“Oh! no doubt; therefore we will leave that subject. Countess, we were speaking of you—who protects you now?”
“You, madame,” replied Jeanne, boldly, “since you permit me to come and kiss your hand. Few people,” she continued, “dared to protect me when I was in obscurity; now that I have been seen with your majesty, every one will be anxious to do so.”
“Then,” said the queen, “no one has been either brave enough or corrupt10 enough to protect you for yourself?”
“I had first Madame de Boulainvilliers, a brave protector; then her husband, a corrupt one; but since my marriage no one. Oh yes, I forget one brave man—a generous prince.”
“Prince, countess! who is it?”
“Monsieur the Cardinal11 de Rohan.”
“My enemy,” said the queen, smiling.
“Your enemy! Oh, madame!”
“It seems you are astonished that a queen should have an enemy. It is evident you have not lived at court.”
“But, madame, he adores you. The devotion of the cardinal equals his respect for you.”
“Oh, doubtless,” said the queen, with a hearty12 laugh; “that is why he is my enemy.”
Jeanne looked surprised.
“And you are his protégée,” continued the queen; “tell me all about it.”
“It is very simple; his eminence13 has assisted me in the most generous, yet the most considerate, manner.”
“Good; Prince Louis is generous; no one can deny that. But do you not think, Andrée, that M. le Cardinal also adores this pretty countess a little? Come, countess, tell us.” And Marie Antoinette laughed again in her frank, joyous14 manner.
“All this gaiety must be put on,” thought Jeanne. So she answered, in a grave tone, “Madame, I have the honor to affirm to your majesty that M. de Rohan——”
“Well, since you are his friend, ask him what he did with some hair of mine which he bribed15 a certain hair-dresser to steal; and which trick cost the poor man dear, for he lost my custom.”
“Your majesty surprises me; M. de Rohan did that?”
“Oh, yes; all his adoration16, you know. After having hated me at Vienna, and having employed every means to try and prevent my marriage, he at last began to perceive that I was a woman, and his queen, and that he had offended me forever. Then this dear prince began to fear for his future, and, like all of his profession, who seem most fond of those whom they most fear, and as he knew me young and believed me foolish and vain, he turned—he became a professed17 admirer, and began with sighs and glances. He adores me, does he not, Andrée?”
“Madame!”
“Oh! Andrée will not compromise herself, but I say what I please; at least I may have that advantage from being a queen. So it is a settled thing that the cardinal adores me, and you may tell him, countess, that he has my permission.”
Jeanne, instead of seeing in all this only the angry disdain18 of a noble character, which she was incapable19 of appreciating, thought it all pique20 against M. de Rohan, hiding another feeling for him, and therefore began to defend him with all her eloquence21.
The queen listened.
“Good! she listens,” thought Jeanne, and did not again understand that she listened through generosity22, and through pleasure at anything so novel as to hear any person defend one of whom the sovereign chose to speak ill, and felt pleased with her, thinking she saw a heart where none was placed.
All at once a joyous voice was heard near, and the queen said, “Here is the Comte d’Artois.”
When he entered, the queen introduced the countess to him.
“Pray do not let me send you away, Madame la Comtesse,” said he, as Jeanne made a move to depart.
The queen also requested her to stay. “You have returned from the wolf-hunt, then?” she said.
“Yes, sister, and have had good sport; I have killed seven. I am not sure,” continued he, laughing, “but they say so. However, do you know I have gained seven hundred francs?”
“How?”
“Why, they pay a hundred francs a head for these beasts. It is dear, but I would give two hundred of them just now for the head of a certain journalist.”
“Ah! you know the story?”
“M. de Provence told me.”
“He is indefatigable23. But tell me how he related it.”
“So as to make you whiter than snow, or Venus Aphroditus. It seems you came out of it gloriously; you are fortunate.”
“Oh, you call that fortunate. Do you hear him, Andrée?”
“Yes, for you might have g............