A quarter of an hour had scarcely elapsed when the queen entered the toilet-chamber, with glowing cheeks, and under visible excitement. The king went hastily to her, took her hand and pressed it to his lips.
"Forgiveness, Marie, that I have disturbed you in the midst of your pleasures."
"Tell me, quickly," cried the queen, impatiently. "What is it? Is it a great misfortune?"
"No, Marie, but a great annoyance, which is so far a misfortune in that the name of your majesty is involved in a disagreeable and absurd plot. The court jeweller, Bohmer, asserts that he has sold a necklace to your majesty for one million eight hundred thousand francs."
"But the man is crazy," cried the queen. "Is that all your majesty had to say to me?"
"I beg that Campan will repeat the conversation which she had yesterday with Bohmer."
And the king beckoned with his hand to the lady-in-waiting, who, at the entrance of the queen, had modestly taken her seat at the back part of the room.
"How!" cried the queen, amazed, now first perceiving Campan. "What do you here? What does all this mean?"
"Your majesty, I came to Trianon to inform you about the conversation which I had yesterday with Bohmer. When I arrived I found he had just been here."
"And what did he want?" cried the queen. "Did you not tell me, Campan, that he no longer possesses this unfortunate necklace, with which he has been making a martyr of me for years? Did you not tell me that he had sold it to the Grand Sultan, to go to Constantinople?"