The Queens Necklace | Page 6

I can affirm----"
"What?" cried Taverney, who was the most eager listener.
"That I have seen all the people and events of which I have been
speaking to you."

"You have known Montecucully?"
"As well as I know you, M. de Favras; and, indeed, much better, for
this is but the second or third time I have had the honor of seeing you,
while I lived nearly a year under the same tent with him of whom you
speak."
"You knew Philip de Valois?"
"As I have already had the honor of telling you, M. de Condorcet; but
when he returned to Paris, I left France and returned to Bohemia."
"And Cleopatra."
"Yes, countess; Cleopatra, I can tell you, had eyes as black as yours,
and shoulders almost as beautiful."
"But what do you know of my shoulders?"
"They are like what Cassandra's once were; and there is still a further
resemblance,--she had like you, or rather, you have like her, a little
black spot on your left side, just above the sixth rib."
"Oh, count, now you really are a sorcerer."
"No, no," cried the marshal, laughing; "it was I who told him."
"And pray how do you know?"
The marshal bit his lips, and replied, "Oh, it is a family secret."
"Well, really, marshal," said the countess, "one should put on a double
coat of rouge before visiting you;" and turning again to Cagliostro,
"then, sir, you have the art of renewing your youth? For although you
say you are three or four thousand years old, you scarcely look forty."
"Yes, madame, I do possess that secret."
"Oh, then, sir, impart it to me."

"To you, madame? It is useless; your youth is already renewed; your
age is only what it appears to be, and you do not look thirty."
"Ah! you flatter."
"No, madame, I speak only the truth, but it is easily explained: you
have already tried my receipt."
"How so?"
"You have taken my elixir."
"I?"
"You, countess. Oh! you cannot have forgotten it. Do you not
remember a certain house in the Rue St. Claude, and coming there on
some business respecting M. de Sartines? You remember rendering a
service to one of my friends, called Joseph Balsamo, and that this
Joseph Balsamo gave you a bottle of elixir, recommending you to take
three drops every morning? Do you not remember having done this
regularly until the last year, when the bottle became exhausted? If you
do not remember all this, countess, it is more than forgetfulness--it is
ingratitude."
"Oh! M. Cagliostro, you are telling me things----"
"Which were only known to yourself, I am aware; but what would be
the use of being a sorcerer if one did not know one's neighbor's
secrets?"
"Then Joseph Balsamo has, like you, the secret of this famous elixir?"
"No, madame, but he was one of my best friends, and I gave him three
or four bottles."
"And has he any left?"
"Oh! I know nothing of that; for the last two or three years, poor
Balsamo has disappeared. The last time I saw him was in America, on

the banks of the Ohio: he was setting off on an expedition to the Rocky
Mountains, and since then I have heard that he is dead."
"Come, come, count," cried the marshal; "let us have the secret, by all
means."
"Are you speaking seriously, sir?" said Count Haga.
"Very seriously, sire,--I beg pardon, I mean count;" and Cagliostro
bowed in such a way as to indicate that his error was a voluntary one.
"Then," said the marshal, "Madame Dubarry is not old enough to be
made young again?"
"No, on my conscience."
"Well, then, I will give you another subject: here is my friend, M.
Taverney--what do you say to him? Does he not look like a
contemporary of Pontius Pilate? But perhaps, he, on the contrary, is too
old."
Cagliostro looked at the baron. "No," said he.
"Ah! my dear count," exclaimed Richelieu; "if you will renew his youth,
I will proclaim you a true pupil of Medea."
"You wish it?" asked Cagliostro of the host, and looking round at the
same time on all assembled.
Every one called out, "Yes."
"And you also, M. Taverney?"
"I more than any one," said the baron.
"Well, it is easy," returned Cagliostro; and he drew from his pocket a
small bottle, and poured into a glass some of the liquid it contained.
Then, mixing these drops with half a glass of iced champagne, he
passed it to the baron.

All eyes followed his movements eagerly.
The baron took the glass, but as he was about to drink he hesitated.
Every one began to laugh, but Cagliostro called out, "Drink, baron, or
you will lose a liquor of which each drop is worth a