Читать книгу The Queen's Necklace - Alexandre Dumas - Страница 5

"Oh," cried he, in terror, "do not tell me anything; I do not wish to know!"

"Well, then, I will ask instead of him," said Richelieu.

"You, marshal, be happy; you are the only one of us all who will die in his bed."

"Coffee, gentlemen, coffee," cried the marshal, enchanted with the prediction. Every one rose.

But before passing into the drawing-room, Count Haga, approaching Cagliostro, said—

"Tell me what to beware of."

"Of a muff, sir," replied Cagliostro.

"And I?" said Condorcet.

"Of an omelet."

"Good; I renounce eggs," and he left the room.

"And I?" said M. de Favras; "what must I fear?"

"A letter."

"And I?" said De Launay.

"The taking of the Bastile."

"Oh, you quite reassure me." And he went away laughing.

"Now for me, sir," said the countess, trembling.

"You, beautiful countess, shun the Place Louis XV."

"Alas," said the countess, "one day already I lost myself there; that day I suffered much."

She left the room, and Cagliostro was about to follow her when Richelieu stopped him.

"One moment," said he; "there remains only Taverney and I, my dear sorcerer."

"M. de Taverney begged me to say nothing, and you, marshal, have asked me nothing."

"Oh, I do not wish to hear," again cried Taverney.

"But come, to prove your power, tell us something that only Taverney and I know," said Richelieu.

"What?" asked Cagliostro, smiling.

"Tell us what makes Taverney come to Versailles, instead of living quietly in his beautiful house at Maison-Rouge, which the king bought for him three years ago."

"Nothing more simple, marshal," said Cagliostro. "Ten years ago, M. de Taverney wished to give his daughter, Mademoiselle Andrée, to the King Louis XV., but he did not succeed."

"Oh!" growled Taverney.

"Now, monsieur wishes to give his son Philippe de Taverney, to the Queen Marie Antoinette; ask him if I speak the truth."

"On my word," said Taverney, trembling, "this man is a sorcerer; devil take me if he is not!"

"Do not speak so cavalierly of the devil, my old comrade," said the marshal.

"It is frightful," murmured Taverney, and he turned to implore Cagliostro to be discreet, but he was gone.

"Come, Taverney, to the drawing-room," said the marshal; "or they will drink their coffee without us."

But when they arrived there, the room was empty; no one had courage to face again the author of these terrible predictions.

The wax lights burned in the candelabra, the fire burned on the hearth, but all for nothing.

"Ma foi, old friend, it seems we must take our coffee tête-à-tête. Why, where the devil has he gone?" Richelieu looked all around him, but Taverney had vanished like the rest. "Never mind," said the marshal, chuckling as Voltaire might have done, and rubbing his withered though still white hands; "I shall be the only one to die in my bed. Well, Count Cagliostro, at least I believe. In my bed! that was it; I shall die in my bed, and I trust not for a long time. Hola! my valet-de-chambre and my drops."

The valet entered with the bottle, and the marshal went with him into the bedroom.