The king took a paper from his table and gave it to the cardinal.
"Do you confess that you wrote this letter to Bohmer, in which you
send him thirty thousand francs in behalf of the queen, in part
payment for the necklace?"

"Yes, sire, I confess it," answered the cardinal, with a low voice,
which seemed to contradict what he uttered.

"He confesses it," cried the queen, gnashing her teeth, and making
up her little hand into a clinched fist. "He has held me fit for
such infamy--me, his queen!"

"You assert that you bought the jewels for the queen. Did you
deliver them in person?"

"No, sire, the Countess Lamotte did that."

"In your name, cardinal?"

"Yes, in my name, sire, and she gave at the same time a receipt to
the queen for one hundred and fifty thousand francs, which I lent
the queen toward the purchase."

"And what reward did you have from the queen?"

The cardinal hesitated; then, as he felt the angry, cold, and
contemning look of the queen resting upon him, the red blood mounted
into his face, and with a withering glance at Marie Antoinette, he
said: