Count Bruhl Part 53

'As I live.'

'Then be it so, but--I am not afraid of them; they cannot crush me as they did Hoym and the rest. We shall see. Let us now have something to eat. I shall leave my retinue here and we shall go to Dresden on horseback. I should like to know who would dare to bar my access to the King to-morrow. We shall see! Can we not reach town without being recognised?

'We must!' answered Ludovici.

'Come then and let us eat well, that they may not guess anything here.'

Having said this he returned to the other room in which the meal was ready. They spoke very little and only of extraneous matters as they eat. Ludovici had a very good appet.i.te, while Sulkowski seemed only to be thirsty, he drank so much.

The Count said to his aide-de-camp:

'Count, you and the horses are tired; stay over night at Pirma. I wish to take my wife by surprise and go to Dresden on horseback with the Councillor Ludovici.'

The aide-de-camp seemed to be very much surprised, for Sulkowski was fond of travelling in comfort, with much pomp and ceremony: such an _incognito_ during bad weather, on the road covered with snow, in the night, seemed very strange. Sulkowski noticing his astonishment said with a smile:

'There is nothing extraordinary in my project, sometimes one must satisfy a fancy although one is not very young.'

Having said this, he took his aide-de-camp aside and gave him secret orders.

The aide-de-camp left the room at once.

Sulkowski stood silent and pensive.

Soon two saddled horses stood at the door of the inn; the minister was advised at least to take a groom, but he refused. The journey for Ludovici, who had already made it coming from Dresden and who was not accustomed to riding on horseback, was more painful than for the Count; but he did not wish to let him go alone.

Fortunately for both of them the weather improved, the snow ceased to fall. The horses were accustomed to the road on which they travelled often and followed the highway. The sun was setting, they pushed on at a smart trot, the Count ahead, the councillor behind him, both silent.

They quickly pa.s.sed villages, houses and inns. The night was quite dark and the numerous lights in the distance presently announced that they were approaching Dresden. Here the road was less lonely. Several sledges pa.s.sed, men on horseback and pedestrians. Against the bright sky could be seen the dark towers of the churches.

Sulkowski slackened the speed of his horse until Ludovici came up with him.

'If they guard the gate,' he said, 'we must use some precautions.'

'Your Excellency will wrap himself in the cloak and will follow me. It is true that they guard the gates, but they look for the equipages and retinue with which they expect you.'

'You said that they watch my house also?'

'Yes,' Ludovici answered.

'I must go there on foot and enter without being noticed.'

'I would not advise you to do that,' said Ludovici, 'in our times one cannot be sure of the servants, some of them might betray us.'

Sulkowski laughed bitterly.

'It is very amusing,' he said, 'who could have told me this morning that I should not be able to pa.s.s the night in safety in Dresden?'

He shrugged his shoulders.

'If my position is so dangerous,' he said proudly, after a while, 'then I do not wish to expose any one else. Take care of the horses, and I shall find a place to pa.s.s the night, and then do what I have to do.'

Thus saying he turned his horse, covered his face with the mantle, let Ludovici pa.s.s in front, bent to the saddle, and having a.s.sumed the mien of a groom, following his master, followed the councillor. They approached the gate. In very truth the guards were there, but Ludovici gave them some name and as they did not pay much attention to two men on horseback they entered the town.

A soldier rushed after Ludovici.

'Do you come from Pirma?'

'Yes,' answered Ludovici.

'Did you hear anything of the Count Sulkowski, who is expected to-day?'

'The inn called the Crown,' said Ludovici, 'was engaged for his Excellency, but a courier came to say that he would not be leaving Prague for two days.'

The soldiers returned, glad that they would not be obliged to watch very closely during the night and the Count with the councillor proceeded.

In the town there was still much stir as was usual during the carnival.

Sulkowski dismounted near the post office, gave the horse to Ludovici, and went towards his palace.

He no longer doubted that what Ludovici had lately told him was true, and tried to enter his house unperceived. Even he hesitated whether it would not be better to pa.s.s the night elsewhere; but his pride prevented him from hiding like a culprit. The question was how to enter unnoticed by servants whom he distrusted. Not being accustomed to subterfuges he did not know how to act.

A strange feeling was aroused in him at the sight of the people, many of whom he recognised, of pa.s.sing carriages, of all that merry carnival movement. Smaller officials pa.s.sed him without recognition of the man wrapped in the mantle; before whom, not long since, they almost kneeled. His situation seemed to him like a dream, the danger a nightmare. He was angry that he could have believed it. He measured the position he occupied with the menace of downfall, and could not imagine it possible.

Under the influence of these thoughts he went more boldly. At about the distance of a furlong, he noticed several dark figures walking about and apparently awaiting someone. Those figures, hiding stealthily in corners, were the best proof that the house was watched. Sulkowski entered a side street, uncertain what to do. At that moment he recollected a man whom he could trust. It was Father Vogler, a Jesuit, the King's former confessor, an old man, who apparently left the court of his own will, giving way to Father Guarini.

He lived quietly, seldom showing himself in the court, and entirely engrossed in his books. Formerly the King's favourite, now almost forgotten, for he did not know how to amuse him. Father Vogler was a silent retiring man. He was Sulkowski's chaplain and confessor and had gained his esteem. Although Vogler apparently lived far from the intrigues of the court, even Guarini seemed to fear him and was very respectful towards him. Vogler did not hide his dislike of Bruhl and although he said little, one could see that he disliked the court and everything that was going on there. Sulkowski remembered that Vogler had warned him before his departure that he should not stay away long, that he should not be too confident of the King's favour, and should not trust those who were apparently his best friends.

If anyone was well informed it was certainly Vogler. The Count, being obliged to steal through the old market and a much populated street leading to the castle in which the Jesuit lived, wrapped the cloak very carefully around him and walked in the shadow of the houses in order that he might not be recognised. Carriages were going towards the castle and he recognised Bruhl's _post-chaise_ and smiled bitterly. The street scene with Erell led by on a donkey recurred to his mind, and it seemed to him that he had met with a similar fate to that of the editor.

The house, in which Vogler lived, belonged to the castle, and the entrance to it was from a small dark street. He knew that Vogler occupied the second floor. He pa.s.sed the dark stairs, and rang the bell at the door which he found with difficulty in the darkness.

He waited long. A small boy with a candle in his hand opened the door.

'Is Father Vogler at home?'

The boy looked timidly at the stranger and hesitated as to what to answer.

'I wish to see Father Vogler on urgent business,' he said.

The boy left the door open and disappeared into the room. He returned shortly and showed the Count into a small room full of books and bookshelves, and a large table on which was an abundant supply of papers. A reading lamp was burning. From an old chair, upholstered with leather, rose a tall, thin, bent, bald-headed man. He seemed to be surprised at such a late call and turned his feeble eye on the visitor, whose face was still half covered with the mantle. Only when the boy closed the door, did Sulkowski uncover his face and head and come near Father Vogler, who seizing him by the hand cried out with astonishment.

'Hsh!' cried Sulkowski.

Vogler embraced him and made him sit down on a chair, then he went to the ante-room and gave some orders to the boy.

The Count leaned thoughtfully on the table.

'I see,' said the Jesuit, coming back, 'that you know all, although n.o.body here knows yet. Has anybody seen you?'