CHAPTER XX
If there is anything that can arouse the greatest contempt for mankind it is the sight of the sudden downfall of the favourite of fortune, who, not long since, was idolised by his fellows.
There is in that something so vile and degrading, that the heart shudders; but in such situations a man learns to value others at their right price and tests his best friends. No one who has not passed through a similar crisis, can understand how bitter is the feeling that arises in the heart.
Sulkowski, who from childhood had been with Augustus and who was accustomed to be treated as his friend, bore his fate with dignity; he could not, however, restrain the scorn excited in him by the two gentlemen dispatched to him by the King.
He at once sent for Ludovici. The councillor owed him everything; but fear for his future, for his position, prompted him not to come, excusing himself on the plea that he was very busy.
'It will be necessary,' the Count said quietly, 'for me to pay the knave a visit and get my papers back, if he has not already given them to Brühl, in order in that way to purchase his pardon.'
In the afternoon of the same day, the Count went to the Castle. On his way he endured a veritable martyrdom.
The news of Sulkowski's downfall was already known in town, and although he had never wronged anybody, and could have sinned only by his pride against his subordinates, being even too good to many of them, all felt it their duty to show him how glad they were to hear of his disgrace.
He passed by Brühl's offices; the clerks noticed him through the windows, and, putting their pens behind their ears, with their hands in their pockets, they rushed out into the street in order to sneer at their former master.
Sulkowski saw and heard what was going on around him, but he exercised so much self-control that neither by sign nor glance did he betray that he saw or felt anything. He passed on slowly, hearing their ironical exclamations.
At every step of the way he met those who only yesterday bowed humbly as they passed him, but to-day they pretended not to see him, or looked at him impertinently, in order to show that they might disregard him.
Carriages passed by from which heads would be stretched and eyes follow him. In the castle the apparition of a ghost would not have caused greater fear.
They dared not shut the doors in his face, but even the lackeys would not make way for him.
Sulkowski seeing this would perhaps have withdrawn but he determined to see the King once more.
Being familiar with the King's regular habits, he knew that he passed that hour in the Queen's apartments. It was possible that the servants would warn the King but he determined to take his chance.
He entered a certain room in which fortunately there was no one, and this man, whose orders were formerly obeyed by the whole court, stood modestly in a corner, thinking over his situation. At that moment the King entered with a chamberlain; when Sulkowski kneeled the King was frightened and wished to retreat.
The count seized his legs.
'Sire!' he exclaimed, 'do not send your servant away, without a hearing.
'Ever since childhood I have been fortunate in faithfully fulfilling my duties towards your Majesty.'
The King's face depicted the greatest alarm.
'Sulkowski--' he said, '--I cannot--I do not wish to hear anything--'
'I beseech your Majesty,' rejoined the Count, 'to listen to me; I ask for nothing, except that I may go away cleared, for my conscience is clean. Sire, kindly remember the years we spent together; have I ever forgotten myself or overstepped the boundaries of respect? Those who wish to get rid of me, are afraid that someone watching over them might discover their deeds, and they send me away because I am faithful to your Majesty--Sire--'
Augustus covered his eyes with trembling hands and tapping the floor with his feet, repeated:
'I do not wish to hear--'
'I only want to justify myself.'
'Enough!' cried the King, 'my firm resolution is to part with you; that cannot be changed. Neither to yourself nor to your family shall any evil befall--be at ease, but go, go, go!'
The King said this with evident fear, afraid lest he might give way should no one come in.
'Sire,' cried the Count desperately rising from the ground, 'may it be permitted me to thank your Majesty for the favours I have received from the King, and to kiss his hand for the last time?'
The King was near to tears, but there was a chamberlain present, a witness and spy in one; therefore he put out his trembling hand, which the Count covered with kisses.
'Sire!' he cried, 'that hand repulses an innocent man! I repeat that I am innocent, because I could have sinned only by the excess of my love towards your Majesty.'
The uneasiness and alarm on the King's face increased.
'Enough!' he exclaimed, 'I cannot listen to you, I command you to leave.'
Sulkowski bowed in silence and withdrew--Augustus rushed to the door leading to the Queen's apartment.
The count needed a few minutes to collect his thoughts and gather strength; he leaned against the wall, pressed his forehead with his hands, and stood there for some time; he was about to go when a chamberlain entered and told him in the most impertinent tone to leave the room.
'His majesty commands you by me,' he said, 'to leave the castle at once and not to show yourself at the court. His Majesty's will is that you live at Nebigan.'
Sulkowski glanced proudly at the man, made no reply and went out.
His last effort was frustrated, and there remained nothing, but to drink the cup without shrinking. A craving for revenge arose in his heart, but he quelled it, for he knew that his enemies had the advantage.
He returned home in order to tranquillise his wife and assure her that she need fear nothing worse.
The banishment to Nebigan, situated near Dresden, permitted the hope of meeting the King and of justifying himself. To this his wife replied:
'Brühl will not be satisfied with banishment, we shall be in his hands! He will find some reasons to renew his attack; let us leave this cursed Saxony immediately: let us go to Vienna, to Poland, anywhere you please, except remain here!'
During the whole evening, the people gathered round Sulkowski's palace, looking in at the windows, anxious to see the ashes of the sacrifice.
From time to time Sulkowski came to the window and looked at the vile crowd. Nobody called on him that evening. But an official document was handed to the porter, in which the King dismissed the Count from his duties of Grand Chamberlain and Grand Equerry of the court.
The Count laid the paper on the table.
The same evening there was a reception at Brühl's palace. The minister's face expressed uneasiness; he was tired after the fight. He threw himself into an arm-chair when his wife came into the drawing-room.
She looked at him scornfully.
'I ought to congratulate you,' she said, 'you are master of the situation, king of Saxony and Poland; Henniche is the lieutenant general; Loss, Hammer and Globig viceroys.'
'And you are the queen,' rejoined Brühl smiling, 'à double titre.'
'Yes,' she said laughing, 'I am beginning to get accustomed to my situation, I find it quite bearable.'
She shrugged her shoulders.
'Provided it lasts longer than Sulkowski's reign.'
'I should add, that you are very clever, having laid your throne on women's shoulders. The Queen, I, the Countess Moszynski, and Fräulein Hernberg--not counting Abbuzzi, for she is a supernumary.'
'It is your fault that I must seek for hearts outside my own house.'
'Ah! hearts! hearts!' interrupted his wife, 'neither you nor I have any right to speak about hearts. We have fancies, but not hearts; we have senses, but not sentiments, but--it is better so.'
She turned from him.
'One word,' said Brühl, 'later the guests will arrive and I shall not have a chance of talking to you.'
'What is it?'
Brühl bent close to her ear.
'You are compromising yourself.'
'The idea!'
'That young employé from my office--'
She blushed and said angrily:
'I have my fancies! Nobody can stop them. Pray do not mix yourself up in my affairs, as I do not mix in yours.'
'Madam!'
Here the Countess Moszynski entered: she was beaming with animation. She put out her hands to Frau Brühl and said:
'There is victory sur tout la ligne! In town they speak of nothing else; they wonder, they tremble--'
'They rejoice,' added Brühl.
'I am not certain of that,' the Countess interrupted, 'but we are pleased at the downfall of that proconsul. Once and for all we are en famille and are not required to bow to that proud lord.'
'What news? What does he intend to do?' asked Brühl.
'If you know him,' the Countess said, 'you should readily guess. Naturally he will go to Nebigan, where he will shake his head as he used to do and try to see the King, and to intrigue in order to regain his favour.'
Brühl laughed.
'Yes, it is very probable; but, dear Countess--from Nebigan it is not far to Dresden, neither is it far from Königstein--I doubt--'
At that moment a new-comer, Countess Hernberg, the wife of the Austrian envoy, entered. She was a beautiful, black-eyed Viennese, with aristocratic features, who was also Brühl's Egeria, and said without any greeting:
'I make a wager that they go to Vienna.'
Brühl made a grimace.
The two ladies began to converse together and the Countess Moszynski took Brühl aside.
'You make a mistake,' she said. 'Never do anything by halves; you ought to have shut him--'
'The King would never consent,' said Brühl, 'by asking too much, we might make him resist, and Sulkowski would have our heads cut off. Then, I know the Count too well, and that is why I do not fear him, he is a weak-minded man, he cannot make a plot. Before he leaves Nebigan I shall find proofs that he appropriated two million thalers and then Königstein will be justified--'
'Brühl!' laughed the Countess, 'two million thalers--and you--'
'I do not have one single penny for myself,' exclaimed Brühl, 'only for the receptions, by which I endeavour to do honour to my King. I am in debt.'
Then he whispered:
'Do not think that I am so stupid as to let the prey go before it is killed; but I was obliged to do it with two blows. I shall get him away from Nebigan as soon as I wish. In the meanwhile I gather proofs. In a few weeks' time the King will consent to anything.'
He laughed strangely, when the Grand Minister of Ceremonies, entering, obliged him to leave the Countess, who joined the ladies.
'How did he receive the news?' asked Brühl.
'At first he was dismayed, but after a time, bravely and proudly.'
'But the Chamberlain Frisen told me,' hissed Brühl, 'that having surprised the King in the castle, he crawled to his feet.'
'It is possible,' said Lowendhal, 'But--'
He did not have time to finish the sentence, for the butler made signs to Brühl from the door, and he was obliged to leave his guest and go and find out why he had been called. He passed through the drawing-room with some uneasiness, for although the King was carefully watched, he feared that the former favourite had succeeded in stealing into the castle.
Henniche was waiting in the study, sitting comfortably in an armchair. Although he made some movement as the minister entered, one could see that he played with him, knowing that he was more necessary to Brühl, than Brühl to him.
'What is this urgent business you have to communicate?' said Brühl reproachfully. 'The people will think that something has happened.'
'Let them think,' said Henniche impatiently. 'Your Excellency amuses himself and I work; I cannot satisfy your fancies.'
'Are you mad?'
'I?' asked Henniche quickly.
'You forget yourself,' said Brühl.
Henniche laughed.
'Let us drop that; to others you may be a great man, but not to me.'
He waved his hand.
'To what would you amount without me?'
'And what about you, without me?' cried Brühl vehemently.
'I am a fork, with which every minister must eat; it's quite different.'
Brühl quieted down.
'Well, tell me, what news?'
'Instead of thanking me, your Excellency scolds me. It is true that Henniche was a lackey, but precisely for that reason, he does not like to be reminded of the fact.'
Saying this he unfolded some papers.
'Here is what I have brought; I made Ludovici drunk, I have assured him that we shall appoint him a councillor in the secret department, and I guarantee that he shall keep it in such secrecy that nobody shall learn about it! I have already some accusations. There are sums taken from the custom house, there are receipts of money not paid to the army. Ho! ho! plenty to accuse him of. How could he buy estates otherwise?'
'You must have proofs,' said Brühl.
'Black and white,' Henniche returned.
'When could you have them ready?'
'In a few days.'
'There is no hurry,' said Brühl, 'the King must rest after his first effort. Faustina shall sing, Guarini shall make him laugh, we shall shoot; the incident in the corridor will be forgotten, then we shall be able to act. The essential thing is to keep all in secrecy; he must not suspect anything and run away.'
Henniche, who looked attentively at his master, added:
'We must watch him at Nebigan; we must tell some of our lackeys to enter his service; they will act as spies.'
'Very good,' said Brühl.
'I should think it is very good, as I never suggest anything bad,' rejoined Henniche.
'If he escapes to Vienna, or to Prussia, even to Poland,' said Brühl thoughtfully, 'it would be a very unpleasant and dangerous occurrence.'
'Yes, dangerous,' said Henniche fixing his wig, 'for although he is not very cunning, it is never wise to despise an enemy.'
'Then it is understood,' whispered Brühl, 'you collect proofs of guilt. It would not be proper for me, who succeed him, to act openly against him.'
Before leaving he added:
'Listen, Henniche, you cannot go away, it will be better to send Globig. Such a man as Sulkowski cannot be put in one room, especially when it is probable that he will remain there a long time. Do you understand? Tell Globig to go to the commandant and let him choose a few good rooms for the Count, that he may be quite comfortable. They might clean the rooms and have them ready, but they must not know for whom they are destined.'
Henniche laughed.
'Your Excellency forgets that for such a game I must be rewarded.'
'When he is in the cage,' Brühl said. 'And it seems to me that you do not forget yourself.'
'We are both alike,' rejoined Henniche folding the papers. 'Why should we cheat each other? We know each other well.'
Brühl, although the ex-lackey treated him so brutally, did not dare to answer; he needed him.
The minister returned with a serene face to the drawing-room, where the card tables were quite ready. The Countess Moszynski, tapping the table with her fingers, waited for him.
'Sit down,' she said, 'at this hour all business goes to bed.'
CHAPTER XXI
The last days of the carnival were more merry than in former years, because everyone tried to make the King cheerful, on whose forehead could often be seen something like sadness and yearning.
He yawned very often during the afternoon, and Guarini's jokes could not make him laugh. They asked Faustina to sing the King's favourite songs. Frosch and Horch were promised a reward for good tricks. They induced the King to shoot every day at a target. The entertainments at the castle were very brilliant. Brühl would hardly leave the castle; he would stand at the door trying to guess the King's thoughts. Sometimes Augustus would be in a better humour and would smile; but very often too, during the laughter, a cloud would come and the monarch's face would become suddenly gloomy; then he would turn to the window, and appeared not to see or to hear anything.
The next day Sulkowski received an order to go immediately to Nebigan. He was obliged to leave Dresden. The people were waiting for him on his way in order to jeer at him.
His little dog Fido was running after his carriage, someone shot him. It was done in the day time, in the town, and no one said anything. The Countess cried, the Count said not a word, he bore it stoically, pretending to know nothing about it.
The vile mob accompanied him beyond the bridge, running and shouting after him. The coachman urged the horses, the Count looked into the distance and did not even move--he felt superior to it all.
Brühl was told all about this; he only smiled.
At last the new minister learned through his spies that Sulkowski's downfall aroused in the court rather regret and fear than pleasure. They murmured everywhere.
The only remedy for that was to isolate the King so that no unauthorised word could penetrate to him. During the next few days, immediately the new officials were appointed, Brühl's brother became the Grand Marshal of the court, the pages and lackeys whom they suspected of having any relations with Sulkowski, were changed.
Augustus got everything he was fond of, but he was strictly watched. He felt happy, since he could satisfy his habits and besides that, desired nothing else.
It was impossible immediately to think of restraining the Queen's influence, but it was in Brühl's plans to do so. He determined to act through his wife alone, for he feared that Guarini would not consent to use such radical measures. Brühl felt omnipotent, and his viceroys, as they called his councillors, grew more and more arrogant.
They were still afraid of Sulkowski and it was necessary to finish with him once and for ever. Henniche collected proofs of money appropriated. The action that now had to be put through was, to confiscate the Fürstenburg Palace, given to him by the King, to take from him Nebigan Castle, and lock him up in Königstein. As there had been many similar examples in the reign of Augustus the Strong, Brühl expected to be able to carry out his plans very easily. Sulkowski, free, was dangerous. Sulkowski in Vienna would be threatening.
Brühl was still more alarmed that the Count did not seem to be crushed by his misfortune. He ordered his furniture to be brought from Dresden to Nebigan, and the beautiful situation of the castle made sojourn in it quite bearable. From his window Sulkowski could see the tower of the King's castle, in which he had been such a powerful man.
The carnival drew to its end, the Count did not leave Nebigan.
Every day his steps were dogged by spies, but they could not learn anything. Nobody visited him from town. Every day the Count's servants would go to Dresden for provisions, but they had no intercourse with anyone except the shopkeepers.
The Count would spend whole days reading, conversing with his wife, and writing letters, but the spies never learned how they were sent.
One morning Brühl entered the King's room with a pile of papers. The King hated the mere sight of papers, and talk about intrigues. One word would make him sullen.
Brühl would shorten the disagreeable duty by handing to the King documents ready for his signature. Augustus III would sit at a table and would sign them like a machine, not looking at the documents; his signature was always the same, clear, precise, majestic and quiet.
That day, the King, having noticed the papers, was preparing to perform his onerous duty, but Brühl stood motionless, and did not unfold the documents.
An enquiring look made him speak.
'Sire,' he said, 'I have to-day such a disagreeable affair that for the sake of my lord's peace I should like not to speak about it.'
The King twisted his mouth.
'I would have preferred that somebody else should have done this, but nobody would take my place,' said Brühl sighing. 'Consequently I must speak myself.'
'H'm?' said Augustus.
'Your Majesty knows well,' Brühl continued, 'that I am not mixed up in Sulkowski's affairs.'
'It is over! Enough of it!' interrupted the King impatiently.
'Not altogether,' rejoined Brühl, 'and that is why I feel so unhappy. I took his duties, I am an honest man, I was obliged to investigate everything.'
The King stared at Brühl; there was something alarming in that look.
'Among his papers were found some letters accusing your Majesty's ungrateful servant; there were many abuses; deficits in the accounts--'
The King cleared his throat.
'But I still have money?' he asked with energy.
'Yes, but not as much as there ought to be,' said the minister. 'But the worst is this, that the letters exchanged between Sulkowski and some foreign courts condemn him as a most dangerous man. If he goes to Poland he will be protected by the laws of the republic; should he go to Vienna, he might be a menace to us there. In a word, wherever Sulkowski might go--'
Brühl looked attentively at the King's face as he said this, but although he knew his character well, he could not guess what impression he had made on Augustus by his speech. Augustus looked surprised, gazed round the room, grew red and pale by turns, appeared confused, but did not say a word.
The minister waited for the answer. Augustus cleared his throat, coughed loudly and looked challengingly at Brühl.
'Your Majesty,' Brühl continued, 'knows that I am against severe measures. I also loved that man, he was my friend as long as he was faithful to my lord. To-day as a minister, as a faithful servant, I must act against my heart.'
It was evidently an understood thing between Brühl and Guarini, that the Padre was to enter during this conversation, and in he came. But the King made quite a different use of his presence and asked after Faustina.
'She is very well,' answered Guarini laughing. 'Chi ha la sanita, è ricco, e se no 'l sa.'
But Brühl stood there like an executioner. 'Will Your Majesty permit me to finish my unpleasant business?' he said. 'Father Guarini knows all about it.'
'Ah! He knows! Very well!' said the King and turning to the Padre asked him: 'And what do you think of it?'
The Padre shrugged his shoulders. 'I hold the same opinion as my gracious lord,' he said laughing. 'I am a priest, it is not for me to judge these things.'
There was a pause; Augustus looked at the floor; Brühl was frightened.
'During the reign of Augustus the Strong, Sulkowski would by this time have been in Königstein,' said Brühl.
'No! No!' said Augustus, looking at Brühl and growing pale; then he rose and paced to and fro.
Guarini stood sighing.
'I never insisted on treating anyone severely,' rejoined Brühl. 'I was and I am for clemency, but there are proofs of such ingratitude--'
The Jesuit raised his eyes and sighed again. He and Brühl both watched the King's every movement and did not know what to think. Never before had he been a riddle to them, knowing him they were sure of being able to make him give in, but the question was, how to do it without wearying him, for then he would be angry with them for tiring him. Brühl looked at Guarini as though urging him to finish the matter. The Padre looked back at the minister with the same silent request. Augustus directed his gaze steadily to the floor.
'What are your Majesty's orders?' asked Brühl persisting.
'What about?' muttered the King.
'About Sulkowski.'
'Ah! yes--yes--'
And again he looked down at the floor.
At length he turned to Brühl, and as it seemed with a great effort, pointing to the table, said:
'Leave the papers until to-morrow.'
The minister grew confused, for he was not willing to leave the papers. Although he was sure that the King would not read them he was cautious, and being afraid that something unexpected might happen, wished to finish the business at one blow. He looked at Guarini.
'Sire,' said the Jesuit softly, 'it is such a bitter pill that it is not worth while to taste it twice. Alcun pensier no paga mai debito. Why think it over?'
The King did not answer; presently he turned to Brühl and said: 'In the afternoon shooting at the target in the castle.'
The order was significant, Brühl was confounded.
'The last reindeer tired us,' added the King, 'but it was worthy of our efforts.'
He was silent again.
'And the last died,' he added sighing.
The clock pointed to the hour at which the King was accustomed to go to the Queen; he ordered a chamberlain to be called.
Brühl was dismissed, having gained nothing, and his efforts were frustrated. He did not know why the King resisted him. The King hastened off. They were obliged to leave him, and Brühl called the Padre into the next room.
He threw the papers on the table.
'I am at a loss to understand it!' he cried.
'Patienza! Col tempo e colla paglia maturano le nespole!' answered Guarini. 'Wait till to-morrow; you could not expect to do it so soon. The King must grow accustomed to the idea, and as he dislikes every fresh attack, you will succeed.'
The minister relapsed into thought.
'At any rate, it is bad,' he said, 'that he is still so fond of Sulkowski.'
They began to whisper, taking counsel of each other. The Jesuit went to the Queen, Brühl returned home with the papers.
The King being fond of regular habits, while smoking his pipe in the afternoon, would never see anyone except those who could amuse him. Even Brühl was then obliged to forget his duties as prime minister and assume the rôle of one of the King's fools. But, as there was no danger on those afternoons, the minister showed himself very seldom. The King amused himself with his fools, and was not permitted to send for anybody outside the court, for even if Brühl's creatures received such an order, they would find some pretext for not fulfilling it, until they had consulted the minister.
From the time of Augustus the Strong there remained in the court the famous fool Joseph Frohlich, who wore a silver chamberlain's key on his back containing a quart of wine.
Brühl, who distrusted him as much as the Baron Schmiedel, tried to get him dismissed, but Augustus would not permit him to drive off all his father's faithful servants. Frohlich had his own house beyond the bridge, was well to do, and seldom appeared at court; but every time he came, Augustus would laugh as soon as he caught sight of his round face.
That afternoon Brühl was not with the King. Frosch had a swollen face, the result of a blow from Horch, and could not come to amuse the King. Therefore no one was surprised when the King told the page to go and bring Frohlich.
The fool was very much surprised when he received the order to go to the castle. He quickly donned one of the three hundred dresses purchased for him by Augustus the Strong, hung his famous key on his back, and rushed through the bridge thinking by what joke he could best amuse the King.
Even fools have hours in which they do not care to laugh. Frohlich, semper nunquam traurig, as the motto ran on a medal struck in his honour, was in such a mood that day that he was not fröhlich but sour as vinegar. He would not confess it, but he liked the times of Augustus II better than those of his son.
But the habit of being amusing to order enabled him to be merry when he appeared before the King.
Besides being witty, Frohlich was a very able conjuror, and it was just then more easy for him to begin by some trick than a witticism.
Kneeling before the King, Frohlich said that he ran so fast that his throat was dry. He took off his key and asked if his Majesty would be kind enough to permit him to strengthen his forces by a draught of wine. The King clapped his hands and told a page to bring a bottle.
In the meantime Frohlich employed himself cleaning his key which was a little rusty, and from which he was going to drink, complaining that he seldom used it now. The page stood with the bottle ready to pour in the wine, when Frohlich looking at the bottom of his key, grew frightened at seeing something in it.
'Who would have expected,' he exclaimed, 'that a bird would build a nest in it?' And a canary flew out of the key. The King laughed; but that was not all; there was still something more in the key, and the fool took out a pile of ribbons, six handkerchiefs, a candle, and a handful of nuts. Then he said that not being certain that there was not an enchanted princess in the key, he would prefer to drink the King's health from a glass. After some refreshment, the fool began to amuse the King by imitating well-known actors.
The entertainment lasted about half an hour. The King laughed, but Frohlich noticed that in spite of his apparent mirth, he was uneasy, perplexed and distracted. He wondered what the cause could be, when, to his surprise, the King went to the farthest window, and motioned to him to follow.
There was something so mysterious and unusual in this that Frohlich was alarmed. He followed the King, however, to the window, where he was standing, looking round undecided and alarmed.
The fool could not solve the riddle.
'Frohlich, listen,' said the King in a whisper, 'h'm! laugh aloud, laugh, but listen to what I am going to say, Do you understand?'
As yet the fool did not understand, but he began to laugh so loudly as to deafen the loudest conversation. The King took hold of his ear and drew it almost to his lips.
'Frohlich is faithful, honest, will not betray me,' he said. 'To-day, go secretly to Nebigan. Understand? Tell him, understand, to escape at once to Poland.'
Frohlich could not understand why the King should use him as a secret messenger. It did not strike him to think of Sulkowski. He made a gesture that he did not understand. The King bent again over his ear and said one word only: 'Sulkowski!'
Having said this, as though frightened at having mentioned a name forbidden to be spoken at the court, he drew aside, Frohlich could not laugh any more. He was so frightened that he did not yet comprehend.
His face must have expressed the doubt, for the King told him again to laugh, aloud, repeating the order precisely.
He spoke quickly, incoherently, but at length the fool understood that the King told him to warn the Count of his danger, and bid him escape to Poland.
In order not to arouse suspicion Augustus continued for a time to listen to the fool's jokes and then taking a handful of gold pieces from his pocket, put them into Frohlich's hands.
'Go!' said the King.
Frohlich, after being permitted to kiss the King's hand, went out and ran home as fast as he could.
He hardly grasped what had happened to him. It was necessary to collect his thoughts and take counsel with himself, how he could best fulfil the King's order, for he was afraid of his entourage.
He fell into deep thought, and sighed. The task was difficult. Even had he been less familiar with the life of the court and the fate of favourites, he could easily guess that there were plenty of spies round Nebigan and probably also in the castle.
Frohlich was a well-known person, but happily the frequent fancy-dress balls, given during the reign of Augustus the Strong, accustomed most people to the art of disguising themselves. Frohlich closeted himself in his room and without losing time commenced to work at his transformation.
It was early in February, the river Elbe was covered with strong ice, and it seemed to Frohlich that access to Nebigan was easiest and safest from the river. It was too late to travel on foot, so he hired a sledge at Briesnitz, and having promised the driver high pay, was driven swiftly to an inn in the village of Nebigan. Telling the driver to wait, he went out through, another door and walked towards the river.
He felt that only by some good luck could he fulfil his dangerous mission. On arriving at the castle he hesitated, then he entered the courtyard and ran as fast as he could to the hall. It was dark and no one was about. Sulkowski never kept many servants and now he had still less. The stairs were dark, and only on ascending them did he hear voices. In the anteroom the servants were quarrelling over their game of cards.
At the sight of a strangely dressed man, coming at such an unusual hour, they sprang to their feet, asking him what he wanted.
Frohlich said that he must see the Count at once. The butler first searched his pockets, fearing that he might carry arms, or might have come with some evil design, then went to the Count to announce the stranger.
There was some stir in the castle: the wig, the clothes and the handkerchief with which his face was covered did not permit them to recognise Frohlich. They showed him into a drawing-room, just lighted for the purpose. Sulkowski was pale but quiet and as proud as if he were still prime minister. The visitor requested that the servant might be dismissed. The request aroused some suspicion and alarm, but the Count did not betray his feelings. As soon as they were alone, Frohlich uncovered his face.
'Two hours ago,' he said, 'I was called to the King; I shall repeat his own words: "To-day, secretly, go to Nebigan--tell him to escape at once to Poland."'
Sulkowski listened indifferently.
'The King told you this?' he asked.
'Yes, and with fear lest he might be overheard, as though he were a slave and not a king.'
'He is a slave and will remain so for ever,' sighed Sulkowski.
He became pensive.
'May God reward you,' he said presently, 'for the trouble you have taken for me, or rather for the King. How can I show you my gratitude?'
'Only by this, that your Excellency fulfils the King's will to-night.'
The Count stood as if riveted to the ground. Frohlich went out to find his sledge, while the Count still stood undecided as to what to do.
He knew enough of Brühl to understand that his wisest course was to follow the King's advice.
The next day as the King was returning from chapel, Guarini came to him to wish him good morning. To this the King would usually answer by sounds similar to those produced by clearing his throat, laughter or hiccoughs. The King's face indicated excellent health, which he inherited from his father, and as he did not abuse it, it served him admirably.
Guarini with other courtiers accompanied the King.
The King looked at him inquisitively several times, as if trying to learn something from the expression of his face; at length he said laconically: 'Cold.'
'I feel it, for at best I am an Italian,' said Guarini, 'but notwithstanding the cold,' he continued in a whisper, 'there are people who do not fear to travel. A certain Count whose name I will not mention, for he was unfortunate enough to fall into disgrace--started last night, so I heard, to an unknown destination.'
The King as though not hearing made no answer.
Brühl was waiting in the King's room with the documents, but he was distracted and morose.
Augustus came to him quickly. 'Brühl! those papers of yesterday; we must finish with them.'
'All is over,' answered the minister, sighing.
CHAPTER XXII
Brühl conquered, but for many years he was afraid of the revenge Sulkowski might take, which, however, the latter never attempted. Sulkowski, having purchased a large estate from the King Leszezynski, and also being occupied in administrating his other estate in Silesia, being moreover created prince by the Emperor of Austria, enjoyed his life and did not trouble to recall himself to Augustus III, now so completely dominated by Brühl.
The present story is only a preface to Brühl's life who until the death of Augustus ruled over Saxony and Poland; he became a Polish nobleman and, as he himself said, played a most interesting rôle as a favourite, whom good luck never deserted till the day of his death. It would be unsatisfactory to give a mere synopsis of this curious drama. Brühl is a historical figure as well as a remarkable type of his epoch; in Brühl's life, that of Augustus III appears as in a mirror.
Here the story might close, had not tradition left an interesting incident which may form a fitting epilogue to the tale.
In 1756, during the war with Prussia, when Brühl was in the height of his power, he was obliged to fly to Poland with Augustus III, who left to the victor all his property--his palaces, libraries, galleries, collections. It was late in the autumn and the court carriages, on account of bad roads and the scarcity of horses in Silesia, were divided into several groups. It so happened that the King was in the first of these and his minister in the last. Brühl greatly feared capture by the King of Prussia who hated him, and in consequence endeavoured to reach Augustus in whose company he felt safer. But misfortune pursued him; the horses dropped dead, the wheels broke, and haste was impossible. The rain rendered the roads so bad that double teams for the carriages were insufficient. Brühl was obliged to accept his fate. Recent events had much depressed him, he had lost millions and was obliged to fly to Poland where he could not rule so absolutely as in Saxony. No wonder then that the pet of fortune was gloomy, frightened and impatient. Sometimes he was so absent-minded that he did not even understand what was said to him.
Evening was approaching, it was raining hard, the horses could hardly drag themselves along, when the steeples and lights of a small hamlet appeared through the grey curtain of rain. Brühl expected to find the King here, but at the posting station he was told that his Majesty was going to pass the night about twenty miles further on, and it was impossible to get horses. Brühl promised to buy the horses but nobody would accept his offer and he was forced to seek a lodging in the village.
His numerous attendants, for he had lately been made a Count, dispersed to find him decent accommodation. There was only one inn called 'Ye Old Horse,' which was occupied by a Polish nobleman and his retinue. The minister thought that at the sound of his name the inn would be immediately vacated in his favour, for the Polish nobles were very polite, outside their house of parliament, and Brühl was omnipotent and could reward the courtesy with the gift of some state property. Count Brühl's major-domo hastened to 'Ye Old Horse' where he found the numerous and lordly retinue of someone whom they called prince. Without asking the name of the nobleman he preferred his request, or, as he thought, command, that they should vacate it in favour of his Excellency the Count Brühl. The prince, on hearing the name made a grimace, pondered a while, and answered in very good German, even betraying the Saxon accent, that he would not give up the inn, but would share it with the minister.
In the meantime the sleet was beating so effectually against the windows of the Count's carriage that it found its way inside. The messenger returned with the answer and Brühl, not apprehending any inconvenience from meeting a stranger ordered them to drive to the inn.
He expected that someone would come out to meet him, but he was mistaken. It was Brühl's custom to double his civility when he was slighted, and he alighted from the carriage with a determination to put the proud nobleman to shame by his amiability. The butler threw open the door, and the minister hastened into a large room, in which there was a fire in the grate, and two lighted candles on the table. Looking round for the prince, he perceived, standing at the further end of the room, not in the least embarrassed at the meeting, only a little older, but still more proud than ever--Sulkowski.
The prince stood silently looking down on his adversary, without greeting him.
Brühl grew pale and wanted to withdraw, thinking that he had fallen into an ambush. His face changed so strangely, that Sulkowski could not help smiling.
Evidently recollecting Guarini and his Italian proverbs, he said:
'Si rincontrano gli uomini, e non le montagne.'
Brühl stood astounded
'I am sure you know the fable,' said Sulkowski, 'about a storm, during which a wolf found himself in a cavern with a lamb--it is something like that with us! During such bad weather it would not be right to refuse hospitality even to a foe.'
Brühl was silent.
'Count, you may rest assured that I shall not take advantage of the situation, in order to annoy you,' added Sulkowski. 'Our meeting amuses me very much, especially when I think that I am avenged by your fate after fourteen years.'
'Prince!' said Brühl very sweetly.
'Count!' Sulkowski rejoined, 'had it depended upon you, I should have had a lodging in Königstein instead of a principality.'
'Prince!' retorted Brühl, 'you attribute to me greater power than I had. The reasons of your downfall were, in the first place, your own lack of foresight, secondly, right or not, the King's anger, and lastly, his Majesty's will, of which I was merely the executioner.'
'Count!' said the Prince, 'you should put it as it will be written in history, namely, that the King was and is the executor of your fancies--'
'Prince, you are mistaken--'
'I hope you do not think me so stupid,' rejoined Sulkowski, 'that knowing your character and the situation, I could be persuaded that you were innocent.'
'I call God to witness!' cried Brühl, clasping his hands.
'That is very comfortable,' answered Sulkowski, 'for that witness never comes on earth. The best proof is the fate you have met with. The fruits of your policy are: the Prussian invasion, and the King's shameful flight.'
Brühl was indignant.
'It is only a beginning and not the end,' he said, 'we shall see what will become of the invaders and of us.'
'Yes,' said Sulkowski smiling, 'the King and you, that is to say, you, are going to make another country happy, and do with Poland as you have done with Saxony.'
'In the administration at Saxony,' Brühl said sarcastically, 'I had no need to introduce anything new, it sufficed to follow the steps of my worthy predecessor.'
Sulkowski's eyes shone.
'Your predecessor planned quite differently for the future of Saxony,' said Sulkowski proudly, 'and the best proof of that was the plan you gave to the Austrian Court through the Prince von Lichtenstein.'
Brühl was confused.
'I? I know nothing about it,' he muttered sulkily.
Sulkowski laughed, and paced to and fro.
'Brühl, listen; I speak as formerly, without giving you your title,' he said, 'do not play the fool with me, for it is useless.'
'I have nothing to reproach myself with,' said Brühl, 'and I forgive you. Prince, you are talking like a competitor who failed to accomplish what good fortune gave to me.'
'How can you call that good fortune?' said Sulkowski laughing. 'Padre Guarini, or--'
Brühl blushed, the prince shrugged his shoulders.
'Upon my honour, Count, I admire you from a distance, but you must not tell me that I would have done the same in your place! I most humbly avow that I could not use so much falsehood as you did for your plans. I wanted to see Saxony powerful and Augustus III famous; he was noble but weak and lazy; I wanted to supply him with my energy. What I possess I owe to the King's munificence and not to dishonest calculations.'
'Prince!' exclaimed Brühl, 'that is too much!'
Sulkowski turned to him and continued:--.
'But we can be honest and laugh at this comedy behind the scenes as the Roman augurs did. You may be to others as innocent as Ephraim, but to me you will always remain Brühl, whom I remember wearing the uniform of a page and saluting the lackeys.'
With these words, Sulkowski took his fur cap, and taking no further notice of Brühl, walked out. The wind was still howling, the rain pouring down, but the prince ordered his carriage to be brought round.
The servants were amazed but ventured no remark.
'Not a word! We go to the next village, but we leave here and at once.'
He did not return to the room in which he had left Brühl; even the icy cold was preferable to that, and when after a long delay the carriage came to the door, he sprang in, and answered the servant's enquiry where to drive to, with: 'Anywhere you please.'
Against the lighted panes of the window there appeared the shadow of a man, as of one peering into the darkness. The carriage rolled away into the night and the shadow of the man at the window disappeared.