Count Bruhl Part 57

'I do not know what that means,' answered Sulkowski quietly. 'I went twice to the castle and could not see the King; it's extremely amusing.'

He began to laugh, while the Baroness prattled on.

'They say that Bandissin, who has already asked several times to be pensioned, will get his release at last. He needs rest. But the worst thing is, it seems that my father is going to be dismissed.'

'I do not believe it,' said Sulkowski, 'but as I was absent from Dresden for several months, I am not _au courant_ of affairs just now.'

The Baroness looked at him.

'It is very easy to guess. The positions are required for others.'

'Better not talk of these things,' said the Countess 'I am afraid to say a word.'

The Count shrugged his shoulders.

'Vain fears,' he said, 'all that will soon be changed.'

A lackey rushed in.

'His Excellency the Grand Master of Ceremonies, Baron von Lowendhal and His Excellency General Bandissin,' he announced.

All looked at each other, the Countess grew pale.

'Show them in,' said the Count advancing towards the door.

The guests entered, and Lowendhal, having noticed his daughter, looked at her as though in reproach at finding her there.

The greeting was stiff, Sulkowski received them coldly, not being able to explain their visit. He motioned to them to be seated, when Bandissin said:

'Count, we wish to speak to you without witnesses, we are sent by the King.'

Sulkowski's face did not change, he pointed to the next room.

The ladies, who could not hear the conversation, remained seated, frightened and curious.

The Countess trembled, feeling that this boded no good.

The Baroness wished to leave, but the Countess retained her by force, and she had not the strength to resist.

When the men entered the other room, Bandissin, an old and obedient soldier, took from his pocket and with evident pain a warrant signed by the King.

He handed it in silence to Sulkowski, who, in pa.s.sing the threshold of that room, seemed to have strayed into another world, and stood pale and as though thunderstruck.

He took the paper with trembling hands, read it, but did not understand.

Lowendhal, who pitied him and wished to get it over as soon as possible, seeing that the Count did not understand what it was all about, pa.s.sed behind him and read the warrant aloud.

It was very short and ran as follows:

'His Majesty the King, having noticed that the Count Sulkowski has several times, and especially at the last interview forgotten himself and lacked the respect due to His Majesty, has determined to take from him all the appointments the Count has held at the court, and dismiss him from all duties. In consideration of his long service, however, His Majesty leaves him the pension of a general.'

Sulkowski expected something worse from the fate which other men had met; therefore as he now understood the meaning of the warrant, he recovered.

'His Majesty's will,' he said, 'is sacred to me. Although I feel unjustly hurt, evidently by the machinations of my rivals, I shall bear my lot. If I have ever forgotten myself towards his Majesty, it was because of the love I have for my King, and not from any lack of respect.'

Neither Bandissin nor Lowendhal replied. Sulkowski, before whom not long ago they had almost kneeled, noticed the effect of his disgrace first upon them.

Their former affability was gone. Bandissin looked at him as on an inferior. In the faces of both gentlemen one could see that all they desired was to get rid of him as soon as possible.

Both bowed coolly, and distantly. Sulkowski returned their bow and conducted them back to the drawing-room. Here they saluted the ladies from a distance and went out as soon as they could. The Count politely escorted them to the ante-room and returned so serene, that his wife could not read in his face what had happened.

The Baroness Lowendhal waited hoping to be enlightened, and dared not ask him.

Sulkowski looked at his wife whose face betrayed anxious curiosity.

'Thank G.o.d,' said he, in a voice which trembled slightly, 'we are free.

His Majesty has pleased to dismiss me from my duties. Although I regret to be obliged to leave my beloved lord, I do not feel at all hurt. It would be difficult for an honest man to remain at the court under existing circ.u.mstances.'

His wife covered her face.

'My dear,' said the Count, 'be calm, pray. The reason for my dismissal is this. It seems that I forgot myself in the respect due to his Majesty, in that I spoke the unadvisable and unpleasant truth; the King is kind enough to leave me the pension of a general and give me precious liberty--we shall go to Vienna.'

The Baroness Lowendhal looked at the Count with admiration. She could not understand the equanimity with which he received the news of his downfall from his former high position. The fact was that Sulkowski's pride permitted him neither to feel nor to show that he was hurt. After the first shock he pulled himself together and accepted his fate in a truly lordly way.

It was possible that he still had hope.

The Countess cried.

The Baroness understood that her presence was superfluous, for she could not offer consolation and her presence prevented them from consoling each other; she silently pressed her friend's hand and slipped from the room.

The Countess continued to weep.

'My dearest,' exclaimed the Count, 'I pray you to be brave. It is not advisable to show that we are hurt. We have to be thankful to the King that I was not sent to Konigstein, and that instead of confiscating my estates they leave me a pension. The banishment to Nebigan is not very dreadful and does not exclude all hope--of overthrowing all that scaffolding built by my honest, sweet, faithful friend, Bruhl! Pray, be calm--'

But the woman was not easily consoled.

Sulkowski looked at his watch, offered his wife his arm and whispering gently, conducted her to her room.

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 pa.s.sed through a similar crisis, can understand how bitter is the feeling that arises in the heart.