o imagine the excitement which this story
produced all over Europe. It was represented that the queen was found
engaged in a swindling transaction with a profligate woman to cheat the
crown jeweler out of gems of inestimable value, and that, being
detected, she was employing all the influence of the crown to shield her
own reputation by consigning the innocent cardinal to infamy. The
enemies of the queen, sustained by the ecclesiastics generally, rallied
around the cardinal. The king and queen, feeling that his acquittal
would be the virtual condemnation of Maria Antoinette, and firmly
convinced of his guilt, exerted their utmost influence, in self-defense,
to bring him to punishment. Rumors and counter rumors floated through
Versailles, Paris, and all the courts of the Continent. The tale was
rehearsed in saloon and cafe with every conceivable addition and
exaggeration, and the queen hardly knew which way to turn from the
invectives which were so mercilessly showered upon her. Her lofty
spirit, conscious of rectitude, sustained her in public, and there she
nerved herself to appear with firmness and equanimity. But in the
retirement of her boudoir she was unable to repel the most melancholy
imaginings, and often wept with almost the anguish of a bursting heart.
The sunshine of her life had now disappeared. Each succeeding day grew
darker and darker with enveloping glooms.

The trial of the cardinal continued, with various interruptions, for
more than a year. Very powerful parties were formed for and against him.
All France was agitated by the protracted contest. The cardinal appeared
before his judges in mourning robes, but with all the pageantry of the
most imposing ecclesiastical costume. He was conducted into court with
much ceremony, and treated with the greatest deference. In the trying
moment in which he first appeared before his judges, his courage seemed
utterly to fail him. Pale and trembling with emotion, his knees bent
under him, and he had to cling to a support to prevent himself from
falling to the floor. Five or six voices immediately addressed him in
tones of sympathy, and the president said, "His eminence the cardinal is
at liberty to sit down, if he wishes it." The distinguished prisoner
immediately took his seat with the members of the court. Having soon
recovered in some degree his composure, he arose, and for half an hour
addressed his judges, with much feeling and dignity, repeating his
protestation