"While all were
shouting, there came one voice which sounded to my ear like the song
of the bird of misfortune. Believe me, Besenval, every thing is not
as it ought to be. There is something in the air which fills me with
anxiety and fear. I cannot drive it away; I feel that the sword of
Damocles is hanging over my head, and that my hands are too weak to
remove it."
"A woe to the traitors who have dared to raise the sword of Damocles
over the head of the queen!" cried the baron, furiously.
"Woe to them, but woe to me too!" replied the queen, with gentle
sadness. "I have this morning had a stormy interview with Madame
Adelaide. It appears that my enemies have concocted a new way of
attacking me, and Madame Adelaide was the herald to announce the
beginning of the tournament."
"Did she venture to bring any accusations against your majesty?"
asked Besenval. The queen replying in the affirmative with a nod, he
went on. "But what can they say? Whence do they draw the poisoned
arrows to wound the noblest and truest of hearts?"
"They draw them from their jealousy, from their hatred against the
house of Austria, from the rage with which they look upon the manner
in which the king has bestowed his love. 'What can they say?' They
make out of little things monstrous crimes. They let a pebble grow
into a great rock, with which they strive to smite me down.
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