And the countess broke out into scornful laughter, which found a loud echo in some of the veiled ladies in the tribune.
"Moderate your pleasantry, madame," commanded the president. "Remember that you are in a grave and perilous situation, and that justice hangs over you like the sword of Damocles. You have already invoked your fate, in calling God to witness that the innocent shall not suffer for the guilty, and now this word is fulfilled in yourself. The whole edifice of your lies and intrigues crumbles over you, and will cover your head with the dust of eternal infamy."
"I experience nothing of it yet, God be thanked," cried Lamotte, shrugging her shoulders.
"You will be punished for these shameless deeds sooner than you expected," answered the president, solemnly.
"You said that you wanted proof that that was not the queen who gave the rendezvous to the cardinal in Versailles; that the promissory note was not subscribed by the queen, and that the letters to the cardinal were not written by her. If the proof of this were to be displayed to you, it would be right to accuse you of high-treason. We have already exhibited the proof that it was not Queen Marie Antoinette who made an appointment with the cardinal in Versailles, but that it was the comedy planned and brought out by yourself, with which you deceived the cardinal, and made him believe that he was going to buy the necklace of which you intended to rob him. It only remains to show you that the subscription of the queen and the letters to the cardinal were forged by you."
"And certainly," cried the countess, "I am very curious to have you exhibit the proofs of this!"
"That is a very simple matter," answered the president, calmly. "We confront you with him who at your direction imitated the handwriting of the queen and wrote the letters. Officer, summon the last witness!"
The officer threw open the door which led to the next room. A breathless silence prevailed in the great hall; every one was intensely eager to see this last witness who was to uncover the web of frauds of the countess's spinning. The great burning eyes of the accused, too, were turned to this door, and her compressed lips and her piercing glance disclosed a little of the anxiety of her soul, although her bearing and manner were still impudent and scornful.
And now the door opened, and a cry of amazement and rage broke from the lips of the countess.
"Retaux de Vilette," cried she madly, doubling up her little hands into fists and extending them toward the man who now entered the hall. "Shameful, shameful! He has turned against me!"