On January 3d the Cardinal came back from Strasbourg. Correspondence with the Queen, through Madame de Valois, had continued during his absence, and now, within a few days of his return, an opportunity was to be afforded him of proving his readiness to serve Her Majesty, and of placing her under a profound obligation to him.
The Countess brought him a letter from Marie Antoinette, in which the Queen expressed her desire to acquire the necklace, but added that, being without the requisite funds at the moment, it would be necessary to settle the terms and arrange the instalments, which should be paid at intervals of three months. For this she required an intermediary who in himself would be a sufficient guarantee to the Bohmers, and she ended by inviting His Eminence to act on her behalf.
That invitation the Cardinal, who had been waiting ever since the meeting in the Grove of Venus for an opportunity of proving himself, accepted with alacrity.
And so, on January 24th, the Countess drives up to the Grand Balcon, the jewellers' shop in the Rue Vendome. Her dark eyes sparkle, the lovely, piquant face is wreathed in smiles.
“Messieurs,” she greets the anxious partners, “I think I can promise you that the necklace will very shortly be sold.”
The jewellers gasp in the immensity of the hope her words arouse.
“The purchase,” she goes on to inform them, “will be effected by a very great nobleman.”
Bassenge bursts into voluble gratitude. She cuts it short.
“That nobleman is the Cardinal-Prince Louis de Rohan. It is with him that you will arrange the affair, and I advise you,” she adds in a confidential tone, “to take every precaution, especially in the matter of the terms of payment that may be proposed to you. That is all, I think, messieurs. You will, of course, bear in mind that it is no concern of mine, and that I do not so much as want my name mentioned in connection with it.”
“Perfectly, madame,” splutters Bohmer, who is perspiring, although the air is cold—“perfectly! We understand, and we are profoundly grateful. If—” His hands fumble nervously at a case. “If you would deign, madame, to accept this trifle as an earnest of our indebtedness, we—”