Count Bruhl Part 2

'Which road shall we take, so that we may not be in the way of his Majesty?' asked Zinzendorf.

Bruhl pointed with his hand, and said:

'It would be difficult for you to find the highway but if you will accept me as your guide, I am at your service.'

Zinzendorf and his companion picked up their sticks and bags, and followed Bruhl, who seemed by no means pleased at the meeting.

Zinzendorf had had time to cool down from the state of enthusiasm in which the page had found him. It was evident that he was a man accustomed to the best society, for he had excellent manners. Having grown more calm, he endeavoured to excuse himself for the speech he had made.

'Do not be surprised,' said he calmly, 'we call ourselves Christians but in reality we are heathens, despite the promise we made at our baptism. I consider it the duty of every Christian to preach. The aim of my life is not only to preach, but also to set a good example. What is the use of preaching, if deeds do not follow our words? Catholics and Protestants, we are all heathens in our way of living. We do not worship G.o.ds, but we make sacrifices to them. A few priests quarrel about dogmas, but our Saviour's blood is wasted, for people do not wish to be saved.'

He sighed. At that moment they came in sight of the camp, where drinking was at its height. Zinzendorf looked towards it, and exclaimed:

'This is a veritable baccha.n.a.lia! It seems to me, that I hear _evoe!_ Let us hasten! I have no desire to hear and see Christians enjoying themselves in so heathenish a way.'

Bruhl made no reply. They pa.s.sed by the camp, and soon reached the highway. Having pointed out the road to the student, he ran quickly to the lighted tent.

Zinzendorf's words were still resounding in his ears when he perceived a strange sight in the tent. It is true, that in those times it was nothing surprising, but very few people made such an exhibition of themselves in public, as did the military councillor Pauli that evening. He was lying on the ground in the centre of the tent; beside him there stood a large, empty, big-bellied bottle; his face was crimson; his dress unb.u.t.toned and torn; while beside him sat a hound, evidently his favourite, licking his face and whining.

Those who stood around were splitting their sides with laughter.

It was no unusual thing for the military councillor Pauli, whose duty it was to be near the King ready to write his letters, to be thus overcome with wine, but never was he so drunk or so much laughed at as on that night.

As soon as Bruhl noticed it, he rushed to the unfortunate man and lifted him from the ground. The others, having come to their senses, helped him, and with a great effort they put the councillor on a heap of hay lying in the corner of the tent. Pauli opened his eyes, looked at the surrounding faces, and mumbled:

'Bruhl, thank you--I know everything, I understand, I am not drunk--You are a good boy, Bruhl, I thank you.'

Then he closed his eyes, sighed and muttered, 'Hard service!' and fell asleep.

CHAPTER II

The pages of Augustus II had rooms in the King's castle, where they awaited their orders during the time they were on duty. Their horses were always in readiness in case they might be sent on some errand.

They relieved each other by turns at the door and attended the King in the antechamber, and often, when no other messenger was at hand, were sent to carry orders and despatches. Bruhl always performed this arduous service with great zeal when his turn came, and even willingly took the place of others, so that the King, seeing him frequently, grew accustomed to his face and services.

'Bruhl, you are again here,' he would say smiling.

'At your Majesty's command.'

'Are you not tired?'

'My greatest happiness is to look at your Majesty.' And the boy would bow, and the King would clap him on the shoulder.

Never was anything either impossible or too difficult for him; he ran immediately and fulfilled his orders at once.

They were waiting one day for the courier. In those days the post was often late; a horse would die on the road, or a river overflow, or a postillion become sick, and in consequence there was no fixed hour for the arrival of the post. Ever since the morning the military councillor Pauli, who used to write the King's letters, had been waiting for his orders.

Pauli, whom we saw drunk in Hubertsburg, slept during the night, rose in the morning, dressed himself and felt quite well except that he was still very thirsty.

He was aware that nature had provided water for him to drink, but he despised the simple beverage and used to say G.o.d created it for geese and not for men. Consequently he quenched his thirst with wine; he felt better and more lively.

He remembered that Bruhl had come to his a.s.sistance in that awful moment of drunkenness, and from that moment a friendship sprang up between old Pauli and the young page.

Bruhl, who did not despise anybody's favour, became attached to the councillor. Pauli was an elderly man, prematurely aged by his intemperate habits: he was very fat and could hardly walk, and, after dinner, would even dose standing up. Pauli's face was red, verging to purple, and his whole body seemed to be swollen.

But when he dressed in his best for the court, when he b.u.t.toned up, pulled himself together and a.s.sumed his official demeanour, one really could take him for a respectable person. He was so accustomed to the King and the King to him, that from one word, or even a look from Augustus, he could spin out whole letters, guessing the thought, grasping the style, and the King never needed to make any corrections.

For this reason he was fond of Pauli, and requisitioned his services continually; for this reason too, he forgave him when he got drunk and was incapacitated from fulfilling his duties.

Then the lackeys were obliged to wake him up and the councillor would open his eyes, and murmur, 'Wait a minute! I am ready!' though he did not rise till he became sober. Then he would rise, wash himself with cold water, drink a big gla.s.s of strong wine, and go to the King.

Such things used to happen in those days, not to Pauli alone; the King's friend Fleming used to get drunk and many others too. People merely laughed at a drunken man for having so weak a head.

That day when they were waiting for the courier Pauli was sitting in the marshals' room, yawning. He selected a comfortable chair, stretched his legs, drooped his head a little and fell a-thinking. He could not dose. Who could travel with Morpheus into the country of dreams, not being prepared with good food for the journey?

The pictures that hung in the room were too familiar to his gaze to interest him. He could not look at them, so he yawned again, this time so outrageously that his jaws cracked. It was a heartrending sight to see such a respectable councillor yawn because he had nothing to eat.

The clock struck ten, then eleven, and still Pauli sat yawning and trembling on account of the emptiness of his stomach. At that moment he felt the most miserable of men.

At eleven o'clock Bruhl, who was waiting for the hour of his service, entered. He was lovely in his page's dress, worn with great elegance; n.o.body could rival him in the freshness of the lace on his cuffs, the cut of his dress, and his exquisitely combed wig. As usual, he smiled sweetly. Everyone was conquered by his smiles, his words, and the grace of all his movements. Pauli, catching sight of him, put out his hand without rising.

Bruhl ran to him and said:

'How happy I am to see you!' And he bowed humbly.

'Bruhl, you alone can save me!' said Pauli. 'Just imagine, I have not yet had my breakfast! When will that courier arrive?'

The page looked at the clock and shrugged his shoulders.

'_Chi lo sa?_' he answered in that language which with French, was then used at court, for Italians were then quite numerous in Dresden.

'Eleven! and I have not had my breakfast! I shall die of starvation!'

Having said this, Pauli yawned once more and shivered.

Bruhl stood thoughtful, then he whispered in Pauli's ear:

'_Est modus in rebus!_ Why do you sit here as though you were on a public road? There is a room with a door opening on the corridor leading to the kitchen; there I could manage to get you served with something.'

The councillor's eyes brightened, and he tried to rise, always a difficulty with him. He was obliged to put both hands on the arms of the chair, and leaning heavily on his elbows, at length succeeded.

'My dear boy,' he exclaimed, 'help me then, if you can.'

Bruhl nodded and they disappeared through the door of the next room.

Here, as though Pauli had been expected, some enchanted force had prepared a table. There stood a large chair, as if made for him, and on the snow-white table a soup tureen, a covered dish and a large bottle of golden wine.

Pauli, having perceived this, hastened to occupy the chair, as if afraid that someone else might step in before him, seized the napkin and stretched his arm towards the soup tureen; suddenly he remembered Bruhl and said: