“The meaning, madame? The meaning is that I require payment for my necklace, that the patience of my creditors is exhausted, and that unless you order the money to be paid, I am a ruined man!”
Marie Antoinette considered him in cold, imperious anger.
“Are you daring to suggest that your necklace is in my possession?”
Bohmer was white to the lips, his hands worked nervously.
“Does Your Majesty deny it?”
“You are insolent!” she exclaimed. “You will be good enough to answer questions, not to ask them. Answer me, then. Do you suggest that I have your necklace?”
But a desperate man is not easily intimidated.
“No, madame; I affirm it! It was the Countess of Valois who—”
“Who is the Countess of Valois?”
That sudden question, sharply uttered, was a sword of doubt through the heart of Bohmer's confidence. He stared wide-eyed a moment at the indignant lady before him, then collected himself, and made as plain a tale as he could of the circumstances under which he had parted with the necklace Madame de la Motte's intervention, the mediation of the Cardinal de Rohan with Her Majesty's signed approval of the terms, and the delivery of the necklace to His Eminence for transmission to the Queen.