Count Bruhl Part 8

Saying this she almost turned her back on Bruhl, took a fan from a chair, inclined her head backwards, pouted her lips and looked at Bruhl with contempt. In the eyes of that girl there was already reflected the frivolity of the times.

Bruhl stood enchanted and the scene would perhaps have lasted much longer had it not been interrupted by the rustling of a silk gown and then by laughter.

'Francesca! Bruhl, you are courting my daughter.'

The lady who said these words, was tall, majestic, still very beautiful, and above all had an aristocratic bearing. She was Frances's mother. Frances did not become confused, she repeated her curtsey and then ran to her. Bruhl bowed humbly and then looked with ecstasy into the Countess's black eyes.

She was no longer young but her features were still very beautiful. The whiteness of her complexion was enhanced by black hair, that night innocent of powder, but carefully dressed. Her figure, notwithstanding its ample form, was still graceful. She looked at the page with half-closed eyes.

'Frances,' said she, 'go to Fraulein Braun; I must have some conversation with Henry.'

The girl looked roguishly at her mother and disappeared through the door. The Countess, rapidly moving her fan, walked to and fro in the room, then bending towards Bruhl, spoke confidentially.

Bruhl followed her respectfully, although sometimes he approached perchance too near.

Even the pictures on the walls heard not that conversation, and half an hour later the page was sitting in the King's ante-room, apparently dozing.

CHAPTER III

Ten years have pa.s.sed since that prologue to Bruhl's life, since that first scene in a long drama. Bruhl was still that brilliant, affable, charming young man, whose fascination even his foes could not resist.

In the magnificent court of the Louis XIV of the North, whom the flatterer called Apollo-Hercules, the people and favourites were changed. A few days after that on which Bruhl succeeded to Pauli's office, Augustus II's favourite became his aide-de-camp.

When old Fleming died, Bruhl was placed in charge of the King's secret archives. Humble and exceedingly polite, Bruhl succeeded in overthrowing two ministers: Fleming and Manteufel. Soon he was created a chamberlain, and promoted to wear a key, as badge of office; the key to the king's heart and exchequer he had already possessed for some time; at length he became a grand chamberlain and was given a new appointment created specially for him, that of _grand maitre de la garde-robe_. To this office belonged the care of the libraries, art galleries and other collections of Augustus II, who could do nothing without Bruhl. Many others could not do without him either, and he, as if needing everyone himself, as if afraid of everyone, bowed, smiled, and respected even the door keeper of the castle.

King Augustus the Strong had changed a great deal since the days when he could drink so much. He still preserved the stature of Hercules but no longer possessed his strength. No more could he dig his spurs into his horse's flanks or saw his head off. Carefully dressed and smiling he would walk with a stick, and if he lingered for a longer time than usual to chat with a lady he would look round for a chair, for he felt pain in the toe, which the surgeon Weiss cut off, risking his head, but saving the King's life. The surgeon's head still existed, but the toe did not, and thus the King could not stand for long at a time. It was a glorious memory that tournament in which Augustus conquered the heart of Princess Lubonirski. The King's loves were scattered throughout the world. Even the last, Orzelska, now the Princess Holstein Beck, was a respectable mother of a family, for in the year 1732, during the carnival, she gave birth to the future head of the princely house.

The King would have felt lonely had not the Italian nightingale, Faustina Bordoni, brightened his gloomy thoughts by her lovely voice.

The singer was married to the famous composer of those times, Ha.s.se, whom however they sent to Italy, in order to give him a chance to cultivate his art and that he might not disturb his wife. Ha.s.se composed masterpieces inspired by the yearning of his heart.

That year the carnival promised to be brilliant, but there was a lack of money, which the King could not bear: Bruhl, who could manage everything, was the only man who could a.s.sure tranquillity to the King's mind. Therefore, during the carnival the King entrusted the modest Bruhl with the portfolio of the minister of finance.

In vain the modest young official tried to excuse himself from such an honour, but King Augustus II would brook no refusal, would listen to no excuses, and commanded him to provide him with money. From that moment it was Bruhl's duty to make the Pactolus flow continually with gold, although it would be mixed with blood and tears.

Bruhl was no longer a humble page, but a man with whom the most influential dignitaries were obliged to reckon. The King would permit no word against him, and would frown threateningly if any were ventured. In him alone he found that for which he had formerly looked in ten other men. Bruhl knew all about pictures, he was fond of music, he understood how to get money from those who were moneyless, how to be blind when occasion demanded, how to be dumb when it was prudent; he was always obedient.

Through the King's munificence he was then given a house near the castle, and he soon turned it into a palace.

The evening before Shrove-Tuesday the newly created minister was sitting in his palace; he was thoughtful, and seemed to be awaiting the arrival of someone.

The room in which he sat might have been the boudoir of the most fastidious woman spoiled by the luxury of the court. In gilded frames shone mirrors; the walls were covered with lilac-coloured silk; on the mantle-pieces, tables, consols, there was a perfect museum of china and bronzes; the floor was covered with a soft carpet.

Bruhl, with his legs stretched out, lying back in the recesses of a comfortable arm chair, his hand shining with splendid rings, seemed to be absorbed in thought and perplexities. From time to time, at the sound of an opening door, he would listen, but when n.o.body came, he returned to his thoughts and calculations.

Sometimes he would glance at the clock standing on the mantle-piece, for a man burdened with so many duties was obliged to count his time as he counted the money.

Notwithstanding work and emotions, his youthful face had not lost its freshness, his eyes shone brilliantly as ever; one felt that he was a man reserved for the future, who had more hopes than reminiscences.

At the further end of the house doors could be heard opening one after another. Bruhl listened--steps approached. The steps were those of a man, though cautious and soft; the tread of one person.

'It's he,' whispered Bruhl, and rose from the chair.

The knock at the door was gentle and full of respect, as though the fingers that rapped were swathed in cotton wool.

'Enter!' said Bruhl softly, and the door opened noiselessly. At the door stood a man, such as one could only find at the court, for they are born for the court; though cradled in a stable, their coffin would certainly be found in a palace. He was tall, strong and flexible in every movement as a juggler.

At the first glance one could read nothing in the man's face, for its features were insignificant, neither ugly nor comely, the expression was cold and vulgar. Clean-shaven, his lips closed so tightly that one could hardly see them, the new-comer stood humbly at the door and waited to be questioned.

His dress did not betray to what cla.s.s he belonged. It was neither elegant nor striking. The coat he wore was grey with steel b.u.t.tons; the rest was black; at his side hung a sword with dark enamelled hilt; on his head he had a wig, which was rather official and dignified than coquettish. Under his arm he held a black hat, innocent of galoons; and he had no lace round his sleeves. Bruhl on seeing the man, rose quickly as though moved by a spring, and walked across the room.

'Hans,' said he, 'we have but half an hour. I sent for you about an unfortunate affair. Open the door and see that there is no one in the ante-room.'

The obedient Hans Henniche quickly opened the door, looked through it, and signed that there was no one.

'You know,' said Bruhl, 'that his Majesty was kind enough to appoint me Secretary of the Treasury.'

'I wanted to congratulate your Excellency,' said Henniche with a bow.

'Don't trouble yourself,' said Bruhl with the well-a.s.sumed mien of an embarra.s.sed man. 'It's a new burden on my feeble shoulders.'

'Your Excellency is too modest,' said Henniche with a new bow.

'Hans,' said Bruhl, 'do you wish to help me, to be my right hand? Will you swear to be faithful and obedient to me? Do you wish to go with me, even if we have to break our necks?'

'But you and I can't break our necks,' said Henniche, smiling cynically.

'Stronger people than we have done so before now.'

'Yes, but they were not so cunning as we are! Strength means nothing, if one does not know how to use it. I guarantee you that we shall succeed, provided I can do what I please.'

'Remember only,' Bruhl said coolly, 'that these are not trifling words, but a solemn oath.'

Henniche raised his hand and said ironically:

'I swear--but on what, my lord and master?'

'On G.o.d!' said Bruhl, bending his head piously. 'Henniche, you know that I am a religious man, you mustn't joke.'

'Your Excellency, I never joke. Joking is a very costly thing, and many people pay for it with their lives.'

'If you help me,' added Bruhl, 'I promise to make you rich, powerful, important.'

'Before all, the first,' said Henniche, 'for riches mean everything.'

'You forget the one who although rich went to Konigstein.'