nquired upon the subject, for she was not willing to have it known
that she had made the purchase. She, however, had determined to have the
necklace, and sent the Cardinal de Rohan to me to take it in her name."

"You are utterly deceived, Boehmer," Madame Campan replied; "the queen
knows nothing about your necklace. She never speaks even to the Cardinal
de Rohan, and there is no man at court more strongly disliked by her."

"You may depend upon it, madame, that you are deceived yourself,"
rejoined the jeweler. "She must hold private interviews with the
cardinal, for she gave to the cardinal six thousand dollars, which he
paid me on account, and which he assured me he saw her take from the
little porcelain secretary next the fire-place in her boudoir."

"Did the cardinal himself assure you of this?" inquired Madame Campan.

"Yes, madame," was the reply.

"What a detestable plot! There is not one word of truth in it; and you
have been miserably deceived."

"I confess," Boehmer rejoined, now trembling in every joint, "that I
have felt very anxious about it for some time; for the cardinal assured
me that the queen would wear the necklace on Whitsunday. I was, however,
alarmed in seeing that she did not wear it, and that induced me to write
the letter to her majesty. But what _shall_ I do?"

"Go immediately to Versailles, and lay the whole matter before the king.
But you have been extremely culpable, as crown jeweler, in acting in a
matter of such great importance without direct orders from the king or
queen, or their accredited minister."

"I have not acted," the unhappy man replied, "without direct orders. I
have now in my possession all the promissory notes, signed by the queen
herself; and I have been obliged to show those notes to several bankers,
my creditors, to induce them to extend the time of my payments."

Instead, however, of following Madame Campan's judicious advice,
Boehmer, half delirious with solicitude, went directly to the
cardinal, and informed him of all that had transpired. The cardinal
appeared very much embarrassed, asked a few questions, and said but
little. He, however, wrote in his diary the following memorandum:

"On this day, August 3, Boehmer went to Madame Campan's
country-house, and she told him that the queen had never had
his necklace, and that he had been cheated."

Boehmer was almost frantic with terror, for the loss of the necklace
was his utter and irremediable ru