Count Bruhl Part 22

Suddenly, Frederick rose, and exclaimed as if he had recollected something:

'By the bye! You are going to Warsaw! Pray remember about those hounds that were left in Wilanow. I must have them! Send someone by _porte-chaise_ with them. There are no better hounds than they are. You know--'

'Yes, they are black,' said Moszynski.

'Jupiter, Diana, and Mercury,' enumerated the Prince. 'Pray send them to me at once.'

'I think they had better stay there,' said Moszynski. 'When the Prince becomes King----'

'My dear Count, send me also Corregio's Madonna! Take it from the Saxony Palace and send it! It is a masterpiece!'

Moszynski bowed.

'Any further orders?' asked he.

'Greet the musketeers; my father was very fond of them.'

The remembrance of his father made him gloomy, he sat down. Sulkowski, always anxious that his master should have that of which he was fond, went to tell a lackey to bring a fresh pipe. The Prince seized it quickly and began to smoke.

All were silent. Guarini looked attentively at Frederick; Moszynski waited in vain, for the Prince was so much absorbed in his pipe that he forgot about everything else.

At length Moszynski kissed the Prince's hand and took his leave.

Frederick smiled on him affectionately, but said not a word more.

Sulkowski conducted Moszynski to the ante-room; the Prince remained with Guarini. Hardly had the door closed when the Prince turned to the Jesuit.

'That's nothing,' he whispered, 'when they only show each other their tongues, but when Frosch begins to abuse Horch, and the latter begins to kick, and then when both go under the table and fight, then one can die of laughter.'

Guarini seemed to share the Prince's appreciation of the comical att.i.tude of two fighting fools.

'No,' continued the Prince, 'one cannot let them into the dining-room to-morrow; but later on, for they must not forget their excellent tricks.'

Guarini got up; it seemed that he was hastening to return to the guest he had left at his house. The Prince changed the subject of conversation, and said:

'Don't be angry, that I propose to make Bruhl a minister although he is a Protestant. He shall be quickly converted, for he is an intelligent man, and I shall command him--you shall see.'

Guarini made no answer; he bowed and went out.

CHAPTER VIII

During the reign of Augustus the Strong, Dresden was not lacking in beautiful women. Notwithstanding sad experiences of the King's instability, every beautiful woman hoped to be able to attract his attention, although they well knew that it would not be for long. Among the young ladies there was not however, one more beautiful, more coquettish, more vivacious, or better able to please, than the young Countess Frances Kolowrath, the same who, several years before, received Bruhl in the Taschenberg Palace, the same, whom we saw in one of the booths during the fancy dress ball in the castle. The high rank of her mother, who was the princ.i.p.al lady-in-waiting at the court of the Princess, gave her the privilege of precedence before all other ladies except the princesses of the ruling houses: the favours of Princess Josephina, hopes of a brilliant future, her family name, all made the girl proud and self-willed. The older she grew the more difficult it was for her mother to control her. An only child and much petted, notwithstanding the Princess's severity, she was able to throw off the court etiquette, and form many acquaintances and love intrigues. She did not seem to care much about the future. She looked upon matrimony as upon freedom from a yoke which she could not bear.

A few days after the news of the King's death, when the court was obliged to go into mourning and all amus.e.m.e.nts were stopped, Lady Frances was bored more than ever. The black dress, which she was obliged to put on, was becoming to her, but she disliked it very much.

That evening she stood in her room before her mirror and admired her beautiful figure and features.

As dusk fell she rang the bell and ordered lights to be brought. She was alone, for her mother was at the court, and she did not know what to do with herself. Walking to and fro she noticed a box and took it from a little table. She brought it near the light and opened it with a little key she carried in her pocket.

The box was full of small jewels and pieces of paper. One could guess that these were letters addressed to herself.

Some of them she put aside with a smile, the others she read and became thoughtful. Then she locked the box and lay down on the sofa, looking at a little ring that glistened on her finger. It was an old, black enamelled ring, with an inscription in gold on it: _A hora y siempre_.

In the young lady's room, besides the door leading to her mother's apartment, there was another little door concealed in the wall, leading to some side stairs. Just as she became thoughtful over the ring, the door opened quietly and someone looked through it cautiously: the young lady turned her head, saw who it was, and rose from the sofa with an exclamation. The good-looking young Watzdorf stood before her. We saw him at Faustina's comically joking, and ironically sneering. To-day his face, usually ironical, bore quite another expression; it was almost sad and thoughtful.

The beautiful Frances, as if afraid at his appearance, stood silent.

Watzdorf seemed to beseech her forgiveness with his eyes.

'Christian, how could you!' she said at length, with a voice in which there was true or artificial emotion. 'How could you do this, when there are so many people about? Someone will see you and tell about it.

The Princess is severe, and my mother--'

'n.o.body could see me,' said Watzdorf coming nearer. 'Frances, my G.o.ddess! I have been waiting for hours under the stairs, in order to see you alone for a moment. Your mother prays with the Princess, there is n.o.body in the house.'

'Ah! those stolen moments!' cried Frances. 'I don't much like such secret happiness.'

'Patience, till the other comes,' said Watzdorf taking her hand. 'I hope--'

'Not I,' interrupted the girl, 'they will dispose of me, against my will, as they would dispose of a piece of furniture. The Princess, the Prince, my mother, Padre Guarini--I am a slave.'

'Then let us run away from here!'

'Where?' asked Frances laughing. 'To Austria, where we shall be caught by the Emperor's police: to Prussia, where the Brandenburgian would stop us. Let us run! That is all very well, but how and with what? You have nothing, except your salary at the court, and I have only the favour of the Prince and Princess.'

'But your mother's heart--'

'That heart will search out happiness for me in diamonds--it understands no other.'

'Frances, my G.o.ddess! How cruel you are to-day, you take all my hope from me!'

'I can't give that which I don't possess myself,' said the girl coolly and sadly.

'For you don't love me.'

The lovely girl looked at him reproachfully.

'I never loved anybody but you!' said she. 'I shall never be able to love anybody else, and because I love you, I should like to speak frankly with you.'

Watzdorf cast his eyes on the floor.

'I understand,' he muttered.--'You wish to convince me, that because you love me, you cannot be mine, and that I must give you up. Such is the logic of love in courts. Because you love me, because I love you, you must marry another man--'

'Yes; I must marry the first one they give me; but that man shall not have my heart.'

'It's hideous!' interrupted Watzdorf. 'You do not wish to sacrifice anything for me.'