s du Barry. On the assembling of
its component gems Bohmer had laboured for five years and travelled all
over Europe, with the result that he had achieved not so much a necklace
as a blazing scarf of diamonds of a splendour outrivalling any jewel
that the world had ever seen.

Unfortunately, Bohmer was too long over the task. Louis XV died
inopportunely, and the firm found itself with a necklace worth two
million livres on its hands.

Hopes were founded upon Marie Antoinette's reputed extravagance. But
the price appalled her, while Louis XVI met the importunities of the
jeweller with the reply that the country needed a ship of war more
urgently than a necklace.

Thereafter Bohmer offered it in various Courts of Europe, but always
without success. Things were becoming awkward. The firm had borrowed
heavily to pay for the stones, and anxiety seems to have driven Bohmer
to the verge of desperation. Again he offered the necklace to the
King, announcing himself ready to make terms, and to accept payment in
instalments; but again it was refused.

Bohmer now became that pest to society, the man with a grievance that he
must be venting everywhere. On one occasion he so far forgot himself
as to intrude upon the Queen as she was walking in the gardens of the
Trianon. Flinging himself upon his knees before her, he protested with
sobs that he was in despair, and that unless she purchased the necklace
he would go and drown himself. His tears left her unmoved to anything
but scorn.

"Get up, Bohmer!" she bade him. "I don't like such scenes. I have
refused the necklace, and I don't want to hear of it again. Instead of
drowning yourself, break it up and sell the diamonds separately."

He did neither one nor the other, but continued to air his grievance;
and among those who heard him was one Laporte, an impecunious visitor at
the house of the Countess of Valois.

Bohmer had said that he would pay a thousand louis to any one who found
him a purchaser for the necklace. That was enough to stir the needy
Laporte. He mentioned the matter to the Countess, and enlisted her
interest. Then he told Bohmer of her great influence with the Queen, and
brought the jeweller to visit her with the necklace.

Dazzled by the fire of those gems, the Countess nevertheless
protested--but in an arch manner calculated to convince Bohmer of the
contrary--that she had no power to influence Her Majesty. Yet yielding
with apparent reluctance to his import