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 passed
through a similar crisis, can understand how bitter is the feeling that
arises in the heart.
Sulkowski, who from childhood had been with Augustus and who was
accustomed to be treated as his friend, bore his fate with dignity; he
could not, however, restrain the scorn excited in him by the two
gentlemen dispatched to him by the King.
He at once sent for Ludovici. The councillor owed him everything; but
fear for his future, for his position, prompted him not to come,
excusing himself on the plea that he was very busy.
'It will be necessary,' the Count said quietly, 'for me to pay the
knave a visit and get my papers back, if he has not already given them
to Bruehl, in order in that way to purchase his pardon.'
In the afternoon of the same day, the Count went to the Castle. On his
way he endured a veritable martyrdom.
The news of Sulkowski's downfall was already known in town, and
although he had never wronged anybody, and could have sinned only by
his pride against his subordinates, being even too good to many of
them, all felt it their duty to show him how glad they were to hear of
his disgrace.
He passed by Bruehl's offices; the clerks noticed him through the
windows, and, putting their pens behind their ears, with their hands in
their pockets, they rushed out into the street in order to sneer at
their former master.
Sulkowski saw and heard what was going on around him, but he exercised
so much self-control that neither by sign nor glance did he betray that
he saw or felt anything. He passed on slowly, hearing their ironical
exclamations.
At every step of the way he met those who only yesterday bowed humbly
as they passed him, but to-day they pretended not to see him, or looked
at him impertinently, in order to show that they might disregard him.
Carriages passed by from which heads would be stretched and eyes follow
him. In the castle the apparition of a ghost would not have caused
greater fear.
They dared not shut the doors in his face, but even the lackeys would
not make way for him.
Sulkowski seeing this would perhaps have withdrawn but he determined to
see the King once more.
Being familiar with the King's regular habits, he knew that he passed
that hour in the Queen's apartments. It was possible that the servants
would warn the King but he determined to take his chance.
He entered a certain room in which fortunately there was no one, and
this man, whose orders were formerly obeyed by the whole court, stood
modestly in a corner, thinking over his situation. At that moment the
King entered with a chamberlain; when Sulkowski kneeled the King was
frightened and wished to retreat.
The count seized his legs.
'Sire!' he exclaimed, 'do not send your servant away, without a
hearing.
'Ever since childhood I have been fortunate in faithfully fulfilling my
duties towards your Majesty.'
The King's face depicted the greatest alarm.
'Sulkowski--' he said, '--I cannot--I do not wish to hear anything--'
'I beseech your Majesty,' rejoined the Count, 'to listen to me; I ask
for nothing, except that I may go away cleared, for my conscience is
clean. Sire, kindly remember the years we spent together; have I ever
forgotten myself or overstepped the boundaries of respect? Those who
wish to get rid of me, are afraid that someone watching over them might
discover their deeds, and they send me away because I am faithful to
your Majesty--Sire--'
Augustus covered his eyes with trembling hands and tapping the floor
with his feet, repeated:
'I do not wish to hear--'
'I only want to justify myself.'
'Enough!' cried the King, 'my firm resolution is to part with you; that
cannot be changed. Neither to yourself nor to your family shall any
evil befall--be at ease, but go, go, go!'
The King said this with evident fear, afraid lest he might give way
should no one come in.
'Sire,' cried the Count desperately rising from the ground, 'may it be
permitted me to thank your Majesty for the favours I have received from
the King, and to kiss his hand for the last time?'
The King was near to tears, but there was a chamberlain present, a
witness and spy in one; therefore he put out his trembling hand, which
the Count covered with kisses.
'Sire!' he cried, 'that hand repulses an innocent man! I repeat that I
am innocent, because I could have sinned only by the excess of my love
towards your Majesty.'
The uneasiness and alarm on the King's face increased.
'Enough!' he exclaimed, 'I cannot listen to you, I command you to
leave.'
Sulkowski bowed in silence and withdrew--Augustus rushed to the door
leading to the Queen's apartment.
The count needed a few minutes to collect his thoughts and gather
strength; he leaned against the wall, pressed his forehead with his
hands, and stood there for some time; he was about to go when a
chamberlain entered and told him in the most impertinent tone to leave
the room.
'His majesty commands you by me,' he said, 'to leave the castle at once
and not to show yourself at the court. His Majesty's will is that you
live at Nebigan.'
Sulkowski glanced proudly at the man, made no reply and went out.
His last effort was frustrated, and there remained nothing, but to
drink the cup without shrinking. A craving for revenge arose in his
heart, but he quelled it, for he knew that his enemies had the
advantage.
He returned home in order to tranquillise his wife and assure her that
she need fear nothing worse.
The banishment to Nebigan, situated near Dresden, permitted the hope of
meeting the King and of justifying himself. To this his wife replied:
'Bruehl will not be satisfied with banishment, we shall be in his hands!
He will find some reasons to renew his attack; let us leave this cursed
Saxony immediately: let us go to Vienna, to Poland, anywhere you
please, except remain here!'
During the whole evening, the people gathered round Sulkowski's palace,
looking in at the windows, anxious to see the ashes of the sacrifice.
From time to time Sulkowski came to the window and looked at the vile
crowd. Nobody called on him that evening. But an official document was
handed to the porter, in which the King dismissed the Count from his
duties of Grand Chamberlain and Grand Equerry of the court.
The Count laid the paper on the table.
The same evening there was a reception at Bruehl's palace. The
minister's face expressed uneasiness; he was tired after the fight.
He threw himself into an arm-chair when his wife came into the
drawing-room.
She looked at him scornfully.
'I ought to congratulate you,' she said, 'you are master of the
situation, king of Saxony and Poland; Henniche is the lieutenant
general; Loss, Hammer and Globig viceroys.'
'And you are the queen,' rejoined Bruehl smiling, '_a double titre_.'
'Yes,' she said laughing, 'I am beginning to get accustomed to my
situation, I find it quite bearable.'
She shrugged her shoulders.
'Provided it lasts longer than Sulkowski's reign.'
'I should add, that you are very clever, having laid your throne on
women's shoulders. The Queen, I, the Countess Moszynski, and Fraeulein
Hernberg--not counting Abbuzzi, for she is a supernumary.'
'It is your fault that I must seek for hearts outside my own house.'
'Ah! hearts! hearts!' interrupted his wife, 'neither you nor I have any
right to speak about hearts. We have fancies, but not hearts; we have
senses, but not sentiments, but--it is better so.'
She turned from him.
'One word,' said Bruehl, 'later the guests will arrive and I shall not
have a chance of talking to you.'
'What is it?'
Bruehl bent close to her ear.
'You are compromising yourself.'
'The idea!'
'That young employe from my office--'
She blushed and said angrily:
'I have my fancies! Nobody can stop them. Pray do not mix yourself up
in my affairs, as I do not mix in yours.'
'Madam!'
Here the Countess Moszynski entered: she was beaming with animation.
She put out her hands to Frau Bruehl and said:
'There is victory _sur tout la ligne!_ In town they speak of nothing
else; they wonder, they tremble--'
'They rejoice,' added Bruehl.
'I am not certain of that,' the Countess interrupted, 'but we are
pleased at the downfall of that proconsul. Once and for all we are _en
famille_ and are not required to bow to that proud lord.'
'What news? What does he intend to do?' asked Bruehl.
'If you know him,' the Countess said, 'you should readily guess.
Naturally he will go to Nebigan, where he will shake his head as he
used to do and try to see the King, and to intrigue in order to regain
his favour.'
Bruehl laughed.
'Yes, it is very probable; but, dear Countess--from Nebigan it is not
far to Dresden, neither is it far from Koenigstein--I doubt--'
At that moment a new-comer, Countess Hernberg, the wife of the Austrian
envoy, entered. She was a beautiful, black-eyed Viennese, with
aristocratic features, who was also Bruehl's Egeria, and said without
any greeting:
'I make a wager that they go to Vienna.'
Bruehl made a grimace.
The two ladies began to converse together and the Countess Moszynski
took Bruehl aside.
'You make a mistake,' she said. 'Never do anything by halves; you ought
to have shut him--'
'The King would never consent,' said Bruehl, 'by asking too much, we
might make him resist, and Sulkowski would have our heads cut off.
Then, I know the Count too well, and that is why I do not fear him, he
is a weak-minded man, he cannot make a plot. Before he leaves Nebigan I
shall find proofs that he appropriated two million thalers and then
Koenigstein will be justified--'
'Bruehl!' laughed the Countess, 'two million thalers--and you--'
'I do not have one single penny for myself,' exclaimed Bruehl, 'only for
the receptions, by which I endeavour to do honour to my King. I am in
debt.'
Then he whispered:
'Do not think that I am so stupid as to let the prey go before it is
killed; but I was obliged to do it with two blows. I shall get him away
from Nebigan as soon as I wish. In the meanwhile I gather proofs. In a
few weeks' time the King will consent to anything.'
He laughed strangely, when the Grand Minister of Ceremonies, entering,
obliged him to leave the Countess, who joined the ladies.
'How did he receive the news?' asked Bruehl.
'At first he was dismayed, but after a time, bravely and proudly.'
'But the Chamberlain Frisen told me,' hissed Bruehl, 'that having
surprised the King in the castle, he crawled to his feet.'
'It is possible,' said Lowendhal, 'But--'
He did not have time to finish the sentence, for the butler made signs
to Bruehl from the door, and he was obliged to leave his guest and go
and find out why he had been called. He passed through the drawing-room
with some uneasiness, for although the King was carefully watched, he
feared that the former favourite had succeeded in stealing into the
castle.
Henniche was waiting in the study, sitting comfortably in an armchair.
Although he made some movement as the minister entered, one could see
that he played with him, knowing that he was more necessary to Bruehl,
than Bruehl to him.
'What is this urgent business you have to communicate?' said Bruehl
reproachfully. 'The people will think that something has happened.'
'Let them think,' said Henniche impatiently. 'Your Excellency amuses
himself and I work; I cannot satisfy your fancies.'
'Are you mad?'
'I?' asked Henniche quickly.
'You forget yourself,' said Bruehl.
Henniche laughed.
'Let us drop that; to others you may be a great man, but not to me.'
He waved his hand.
'To what would you amount without me?'
'And what about you, without me?' cried Bruehl vehemently.
'I am a fork, with which every minister must eat; it's quite
different.'
Bruehl quieted down.
'Well, tell me, what news?'
'Instead of thanking me, your Excellency scolds me. It is true that
Henniche was a lackey, but precisely for that reason, he does not like
to be reminded of the fact.'
Saying this he unfolded some papers.
'Here is what I have brought; I made Ludovici drunk, I have assured him
that we shall appoint him a councillor in the secret department, and I
guarantee that he shall keep it in such secrecy that nobody shall learn
about it! I have already some accusations. There are sums taken from
the custom house, there are receipts of money not paid to the army. Ho!
ho! plenty to accuse him of. How could he buy estates otherwise?'
'You must have proofs,' said Bruehl.
'Black and white,' Henniche returned.
'When could you have them ready?'
'In a few days.'
'There is no hurry,' said Bruehl, 'the King must rest after his first
effort. Faustina shall sing, Guarini shall make him laugh, we shall
shoot; the incident in the corridor will be forgotten, then we shall be
able to act. The essential thing is to keep all in secrecy; he must not
suspect anything and run away.'
Henniche, who looked attentively at his master, added:
'We must watch him at Nebigan; we must tell some of our lackeys to
enter his service; they will act as spies.'
'Very good,' said Bruehl.
'I should think it is very good, as I never suggest anything bad,'
rejoined Henniche.
'If he escapes to Vienna, or to Prussia, even to Poland,' said Bruehl
thoughtfully, 'it would be a very unpleasant and dangerous occurrence.'
'Yes, dangerous,' said Henniche fixing his wig, 'for although he is not
very cunning, it is never wise to despise an enemy.'
'Then it is understood,' whispered Bruehl, 'you collect proofs of guilt.
It would not be proper for me, who succeed him, to act openly against
him.'
Before leaving he added:
'Listen, Henniche, you cannot go away, it will be better to send
Globig. Such a man as Sulkowski cannot be put in one room, especially
when it is probable that he will remain there a long time. Do you
understand? Tell Globig to go to the commandant and let him choose a
few good rooms for the Count, that he may be quite comfortable. They
might clean the rooms and have them ready, but they must not know for
whom they are destined.'
Henniche laughed.
'Your Excellency forgets that for such a game I must be rewarded.'
'When he is in the cage,' Bruehl said. 'And it seems to me that you do
not forget yourself.'
'We are both alike,' rejoined Henniche folding the papers. 'Why should
we cheat each other? We know each other well.'
Bruehl, although the ex-lackey treated him so brutally, did not dare to
answer; he needed him.
The minister returned with a serene face to the drawing-room, where the
card tables were quite ready. The Countess Moszynski, tapping the table
with her fingers, waited for him.
'Sit down,' she said, 'at this hour all business goes to bed.'