ll lead to a further examination of
Brusson, to his being confronted with Count Miossens; the torture will
be postponed, and further investigations made. Then will be the time to
have recourse to the King. Your brilliant intellect, Mademoiselle, will
point out the most fitting way to do this. I think it would be best to
tell His Majesty the whole story. Count Miossen's statement will
support Olivier's. Perhaps, too, an examination of Cardillac's house
would help matters. The King might then follow the bent of his own
judgment--of his kind heart, which might pardon where justice could
only punish." Count Miossens closely followed D'Andilly's advice, and
everything fell out just as he had said it would.

It was now time to repair to the King; and this was the chief
difficulty of all, as he had such an intense horror of Brusson--whom he
believed to be the man who had for so long kept Paris in a state of
terror--that the least allusion to him threw him at once into the most
violent anger. Madame de Maintenon, faithful to her system of never
mentioning unpleasant subjects to him, declined all intermediation; so
that Brusson's fate was entirely in Mademoiselle Scuderi's hands. After
long reflection, she hit upon a scheme which she put in execution at
once. She put on a heavy black silk dress, with Cardillac's jewels, and
a long black veil, and appeared at Madame de Maintenon's at the time
when she knew the King would be there. Her noble figure in this
mourning garb excited the reverential respect even of those frivolous
persons who pass their days in Court antechambers. They all made way
for her, and when she came into the presence, the King himself rose,
astonished, and came forward to meet her. The splendid diamonds of the
necklace and bracelets flashed in his eyes, and he cried: "By Heavens!
Cardillac's work!" Then, turning to Madame de Maintenon, he said, with
a pleasant smile, "See, Madame la Marquise, how our fair lady mourns
for her affianced husband." "Ah, Sire!" said Mademoiselle Scuderi, as
if keeping up the jest, "it would ill become a mourning bride to wear
such bravery. No; I have done with the goldsmith; nor would I remember
him, but that the gruesome spectacle of his corpse carried close by me
before my eyes keeps coming back to my memory." "What!" said the King,
"did you actually see him, poor fellow?" She then told him in few words
(not introducing Brusson into the business at all) how chance had
brought her