the Court appear to have been prompted by imprudence and want of
foresight; the obscurity resulting left free scope for the fables of which
the voluminous memorials written on one side and the other consisted. The
Queen so little imagined what could have given rise to the intrigue, of
which she was about to become the victim, that, at the moment when the
King was interrogating the Cardinal, a terrific idea entered her mind.
With that rapidity of thought caused by personal interest and extreme
agitation, she fancied that, if a design to ruin her in the eyes of the
King and the French people were the concealed motive of this intrigue, the
Cardinal would, perhaps, affirm that she had the necklace; that he had
been honoured with her confidence for this purchase, made without the
King's knowledge; and point out some secret place in her apartment, where
he might have got some villain to hide it. Want of money and the meanest
swindling were the sole motives for this criminal affair. The necklace
had already been taken to pieces and sold, partly in London, partly in
Holland, and the rest in Paris.

The moment the Cardinal's arrest was known a universal clamour arose.
Every memorial that appeared during the trial increased the outcry. On
this occasion the clergy took that course which a little wisdom and the
least knowledge of the spirit of such a body ought to have foreseen. The
Rohans and the House of Conde, as well as the clergy, made their
complaints heard everywhere. The King consented to having a legal
judgment, and early in September he addressed letters-patent to the
Parliament, in which he said that he was "filled with the most just
indignation on seeing the means which, by the confession of his Eminence
the Cardinal, had been employed in order to inculpate his most dear spouse
and companion."

Fatal moment! in which the Queen found herself, in consequence of this