_ CHAPTER LXXX. THE PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE
The queen and Charny exchanged a look so full of terror, that their most cruel enemy must have pitied them.
Charny rose slowly, and bowed to the king, whose heart might almost have been seen to beat.
"Ah!" cried he, in a hoarse voice, "M. de Charny!"
The queen could not speak--she thought she was lost.
"M. de Charny," repeated the king, "it is little honorable for a gentleman to be taken in the act of theft."
"Of theft?" murmured Charny.
"Yes, sir, to kneel before the wife of another is a theft; and when this woman is a queen, his crime is called high treason!"
The count was about to speak, but the queen, ever impatient in her generosity, forestalled him.
"Sire," said she, "you seem in the mood for evil suspicions and unfavorable suppositions, which fall falsely, I warn you; and if respect chains the count's tongue, I will not hear him wrongfully accused without defending him." Here she stopped, overcome by emotion, frightened at the falsehood she was about to tell, and bewildered because she could not find one to utter.
But these few words had somewhat softened the king, who replied more gently, "You will not tell me, madame, that I did not see M. de Charny kneeling before you, and without your attempting to raise him?"
"Therefore you might think," replied she, "that he had some favor to ask me."
"A favor?"
"Yes, sire, and one which I could not easily grant, or he would not have insisted with so much less warmth."
Charny breathed again, and the king's look became calmer. Marie Antoinette was searching for something to say, with mingled rage at being obliged to lie, and grief at not being able to think of anything probable to say. She half hoped the king would be satisfied, and ask no more, but he said:
"Let us hear, madame, what is the favor so warmly solicited, which made M. de Charny kneel before you; I may, perhaps, more happy than you, be able to grant it."
She hesitated; to lie before the man she loved was agony to her, and she would have given the world for Charny to find the answer. But of this he was incapable.
"Sire, I told you that M. de Charny asked an impossible thing."
"What is it?"
"What can one ask on one's knees?"
"I want to hear."
"Sire, it is a family secret."
"There are no secrets from the king--a father interested in all his subjects, who are his children, although, like unnatural children, they may sometimes attack the honor and safety of their father."
This speech made the queen tremble anew.
"M. de Charny asked," replied she, "permission to marry."
"Really," cried the king, reassured for a moment. Then, after a pause, he said, "But why should it be impossible for M. de Charny to marry? Is he not noble? Has he not a good fortune? Is he not brave and handsome? Really, to refuse him, the lady ought to be a princess, or already married. I can see no other reason for an impossibility. Therefore, madame, tell me the name of the lady who is loved by M. de Charny, and let me see if I cannot remove the difficulty."
The queen, forced to continue her falsehood, replied:
"No, sire; there are difficulties which even you cannot remove, and the present one is of this nature."
"Still, I wish to hear," replied the king, his anger returning.
Charny looked at the queen--she seemed ready to faint. He made a step towards her and then drew back. How dared he approach her in the king's presence?
"Oh!" thought she, "for an idea--something that the king can neither doubt nor disbelieve." Then suddenly a thought struck her. She who has dedicated herself to heaven the king cannot influence. "Sire!" she cried, "she whom M. de Charny wishes to marry is in a convent."
"Oh! that is a difficulty; no doubt. But this seems a very sudden love of M. de Charny's. I have never heard of it from any one. Who is the lady you love, M. de Charny?"
The queen felt in despair, not knowing what he would say, and dreading to hear him name any one. But Charny could not reply: so, after a pause, she cried, "Sire, you know her; it is Andree de Taverney."
Charny buried his face in his hands; the queen pressed her hand to her heart, and could hardly support herself.
"Mademoiselle de Taverney? but she has gone to St. Denis."
"Yes, sire," replied the queen.
"But she has taken no vows."
"No, but she is about to do so."
"We will see if we can persuade her. Why should she take the vows?"
"She is poor," said the queen.
"That I can soon alter, madame, if M. de Charny loves her."
The queen shuddered, and cast a glance at the young man, as if begging him to deny it. He did not speak.
"And I dare say," continued the king, taking his silence for consent, "that Mademoiselle de Taverney loves M. de Charny. I will give her as dowry the 500,000 francs which I refused the other day to you. Thank the queen, M. de Charny, for telling me of this, and ensuring your happiness."
Charny bowed like a pale statue which had received an instant's life.
"Oh, it is worth kneeling again for!" said the king.
The queen trembled, and stretched out her hand to the young man, who left on it a burning kiss.
"Now," said the king, "come with me."
M. de Charny turned once, to read the anguish in the eyes of the queen. _