"Your majesty has commanded, and I must obey," said Campan, bowing.
"Read, read," urged Marie Antoinette. "Let me know the sentence."
Madame de Campan unfolded the paper, and went nearer to the light in order to see better. Marie Antoinette leaned forward, folded both hands in her lap, and looked at Campan with an expression of eager expectation.
"Read, read!" she repeated, with trembling lips. Madame de Campan bowed and read:
"First.--The writing, the basis of the trial, the note and signatures, are declared to be forged in imitation of the queen's hand.
"Second.--Count Lamotte is sentenced in contumacion to the galleys for life.
"Third.--The woman Lamotte to be whipped, marked on both shoulders with the letter O, and to be confined for life.
"Fourth.--Retaux de Vilette to be banished for life from France.
"Fifth.--Mademoiselle Oliva is discharged.
"Sixth.--The lord cardinal--"
"Well," cried the queen, passionately, "why do you stammer, why do you tremble? He has been discharged; I know it already, for we are already at the names of the acquitted. Read on, Campan."
And Madame de Campan read on:
"The lord cardinal is acquitted from every charge, and is allowed to publish this acquittal."
"Acquitted!" cried the queen, springing from her seat, "acquitted!
Oh, Campan, what I feared is true. The Queen of France has become the victim of cabals and intrigues. The Queen of France in her honor, dignity, and virtue, is injured and wounded by one of her own subjects, and there is no punishment for him; he is free. Pity me, Campan! But no, on the contrary, I pity you, I pity France! If I can have no impartial judges in a matter which darkens my character, what can you, what can all others hope for, when you are tried in a matter which touches your happiness and honor? [Footnote: The very words of the queen See "Memoires de Madame de Campan," vol. ii., o.
23.] I am sad, sad in my inmost soul, and it seems to me as if this instant were to overshadow my whole life; as if the shades of night had fallen upon me, and--what is that? Did you blow out the light, Campan?"
"Your majesty sees that I am standing entirely away from the lights."
"But only see," cried the queen, "one of the candles is put out!"
"It is true," said Madame de Campan, looking at the light, over which a bluish cloud was yet hovering. "The light is put out, but if your majesty allows me, I--"
She was silent, and her bearing assumed the appearance of amazement and horror.
The candle which had been burning in the other arm of the candlestick went out like the one before.
The queen said not a word. She gazed with pale lips and wide-opened eyes at both the lights, the last spark of which had just disappeared.
"Will your majesty allow me to light the candles again?" asked Madame de Campan, extending her hand to the candlestick.
But the queen held her hand fast. "Let them be," she whispered, "I want to see whether both the other lights--"
Suddenly she was convulsed, and, rising slowly from her arm-chair, pointed with silent amazement at the second candlestick.
One of the two other lights had gone out.
Only one was now burning, and dark shadows filled the cabinet. The one light faintly illumined only the centre, and shone with its glare upon the pale, horrified face of the queen.
"Campan," she whispered, raising her arm, and pointing at the single light which remained burning, "if this fourth light goes out like the other three, it is a bad omen for me, and forebodes the approach of misfortune."
At this instant the light flared up and illumined the room more distinctly, then its flame began to die away. One flare more and this light went out, and a deep darkness reigned in the cabinet.
The queen uttered a loud, piercing cry, and sank in a swoon.
