Count Bruhl Part 54

'I came here straight from my journey,' answered the Count. 'In Pirma I learned about the plot, and by your manner I see that it is true. Is it true? Then they dread--'

Vogler shrugged his shoulders.

'Yes, your good friends await you with this surprise,' he said slowly, 'they will not admit you to the King.'

'It is I who will prepare a surprise for them and see the King notwithstanding them all,' cried Sulkowski. 'They are mistaken; the King under pressure would give in in my absence, but if I get half an hour's conversation with him, I shall regain my influence and then--Then,' cried Sulkowski rising and clenching his fist, 'it will not be I that will be sent away, but those who dared to intrigue against me.'

He became silent.

Vogler wrung his hands.

'The question is where I can pa.s.s the night and wait till to-morrow, so that they may not know that I have arrived. I am sure that they will not give orders that I am not to be admitted to the court; by my right and my rank I have free access to the King at any hour. At eleven o'clock the King is alone; Bruhl is not with him.'

The Jesuit listened attentively, not showing what he thought of the Count's plan.

'You have nothing to lose, you must try to win,' he said.

'Will you have the courage to let me sleep here?' asked Sulkowski with a smile of doubt.

'You are welcome; my humble dwelling is at your service. You are safe here, for n.o.body calls on me.'

Sulkowski's eyes shone.

'If I am able to see the King, I am sure of winning--'

'May G.o.d help you,' whispered Vogler.

The next morning Bruhl heard through Henniche, that Sulkowski was not expected to arrive for two more days. In the court the whole plot had been kept in great secresy; the Countess Sulkowski, whom the Queen always received very kindly had not the slightest suspicion. The King was in an excellent humour.

Early in the morning Bruhl came to the King for his orders, and having left Guarini with him, returned to his palace. Here he changed his clothes, because the etiquette required him to do so several times during the day, and ordered his _porte-chaise_ to carry him to the Countess Moszynski. He now felt at home in her house, for her husband had died a few months previously, and Bruhl was certain that she was too much in love with him to marry anybody else. His relations of tender friendship with the beautiful widow were no secret. Every day he would take counsel with her, every morning the Countess Moszynski would visit him. It was known that she did what she pleased with him. Very often when they had something very urgent to communicate to the minister, for he did nothing without her advice, they would go to the Countess to find him there.

That day Bruhl also went to her house as though it were his own. The Countess on seeing him said:

'Has Sulkowski arrived?'

'Not yet! I had news from Pinna; they do not expect him for two days.'

The Countess Moszynski shook her head with evident dissatisfaction.

'It is not natural,' she said, 'it is suspicious. His wife told me that at the latest she expected him last night. Somebody must have warned him.'

'Impossible! n.o.body knows!'

The Countess laughed.

'Let us count up how many people know the secret,' she said, counting on her fingers. 'The Queen, the Countess Kolowrath, the King, Guarini, you, I, and to be sure, your wife. If she was not told she would guess: let us add Henniche. Have you ever heard of a secret being kept by eight persons?'

Bruhl shook his head carelessly.

'Even if he had learned, it would not help him at all. The Queen wearied the King so much about Sulkowski, that for the sake of his beloved peace he must give him up.'

The subject of conversation was soon changed. Bruhl, however, notwithstanding his apparent calm, was thoughtful and gloomy. Towards noon, just as he was about to take leave of the Countess, there was a rap at the door, and Henniche rushed in.

His changed face and hurried entrance into the drawing-room announced bad news. The Countess sprang from her seat. Bruhl ran to him.

Henniche could not speak.

'Henniche, what is the matter? Come to your senses!' exclaimed Bruhl.

'What is the matter with me? Sulkowski has been in town ever since last night, at eleven o'clock he came to the castle, and asking no permission, entered the King's room. Father Guarini, who was with the King, said that his Majesty became white as marble. The Count, as if not aware of anything wrong, greeted the King in most tender words and kneeling he said that his first step was to fall at his Majesty's feet.

The King became tender and embraced him. The Count began to talk about his travels and made the King laugh--and thus he resumed his former duties. At this moment Sulkowski is with the King; everybody is alarmed in the castle: the Queen weeps, Guarini is pale--everything is lost.'

Bruhl and the Countess looked at each other.

Bruhl did not appear to be frightened but very much annoyed.

'Henniche, listen!' he said, 'Sulkowski cannot remain with the King for ever; I do not wish to meet him; let me know when he leaves the castle.

They watched well at the gates and fulfilled my orders nicely!' added the minister drily.

He went to the Countess, kissed her hand, whispering a few words, and went out with Henniche.

The scene described by Henniche was very interesting indeed. A ghost would not have been more alarming in the castle than the sudden appearance of Sulkowski. When he entered the King's room. Augustus III was struck dumb with surprise, for the things he most disliked were reproaches and quarrels. Father Guarini, notwithstanding his usual self-composure, could not conceal his confusion. Sulkowski kneeling greeted the King with apparent joy, telling him how happy he was to look on his lord's face again. This calmed Augustus a little. Guarini noticed, however, that he only smiled, but said not a word.

The Padre's first intention was to remain to the end of the interview, but later on it occurred to his mind, that it was his duty to communicate the incident to the Queen in order that some precautions might be taken at once. In consequence, having listened to Sulkowski's narration for about an hour, he was obliged to leave the room.

Sulkowski spoke merrily and quickly as though in a fever. Although he did not, even by the slightest allusion, let it be known that he knew what was going to happen to him, one could guess by his agitation and daring that he was playing his last card. The King glanced round as if he were afraid and grew more and more stiff: one moment his face grew brighter, the next it became cold.

As long as Father Guarini was in the room, the Count confined his conversation to his travels; when Guarini left the room he changed both the tone and subject.

'Your Majesty,' he said, 'I was longing to see my liege: I had a sad presentiment, although thank G.o.d, it is not realised, and your Majesty's heart is the best guarantee that it could not be realised. I have served my lord since childhood, I sacrificed my life to him, and I am ready to sacrifice the rest of my days; I was able to gain my lord's favour and confidence, my conscience does not reproach me with anything; I am not afraid of the plots of my enemies, even if I had any, and I do not believe I have them, for I have done no harm to anybody.'

The King listened with forced dignity, which did not promise well.

Sulkowski asked to be permitted once more to kiss the King's hand; Augustus gave it to him muttering, changing uneasily from one foot to the other, but not saying one intelligible word. The Count's enthusiasm increased and he spoke with growing fever.

'Sire, my lord, I believe in your heart as I believe in G.o.d. Only may the intriguers not take it from me by their calumnies!'

'Oh! Oh!' interrupted Augustus, 'there are no intrigues here.'

'Into what court are they not able to penetrate? What dress must they a.s.sume?' said Sulkowski laughing. 'Sire, I am a soldier and I speak straight. There are bad people and those who are the sweetest, the most humble, the most useful, they are the most dangerous. Sire, and my lord, I do not wish to name the others--but Bruhl must be dismissed, otherwise he will get all into his own power and deprive your Majesty of his best friends, in order that he may rule absolutely.'

Thus saying he looked at the King's face, which became crimson and then pale, his eyes a.s.sumed a wild expression, the result of suppressed anger. Sulkowski, knowing well that it was necessary to conquer the outburst in order to dominate the monarch, favoured peace above all things; the anger never lasted long. Several times the King had wished to break the chain of dependence, but every time he had shirked the effort necessary to effect it. The Count had seen him several times in that state of mind and became still bolder.

'Sire,' he said, following the King, who went to the window, 'your Majesty respects the memory of his great father; may he serve as an example! He never permitted anyone to domineer over him, neither the Queen, nor favourites, nor ministers, nor priests. He ruled supreme.

Your Majesty has only to wish, to command, and those who murmur will become silent; the chain shall be broken. One must have courage to live and to rule, and for that one must break all chains.'

The King listened but grew more and more frightened; he stopped up both his ears and instead of answering retreated further and further towards the window.

Sulkowski having gone so far could not retreat, and determined to strike the iron while it was hot.