Count Bruhl Part 4

'Yes, it is the duty of an honest man to finish that which he began,'

said Pauli.

Having poured out the last gla.s.s, Bruhl brought forward a pipe and tobacco.

'Will you not smoke?' he said.

'You are an angel!' exclaimed Pauli opening his eyes. 'You remembered about that also. But suppose this herb intoxicates me further? What do you say?'

'It will make you sober,' said Bruhl handing him the pipe.

'How can I resist such a tempting offer! Come what may, give it to me.

Perchance the postillion will break his neck, and will not come. I don't wish him evil, but I would prefer that he stayed away.'

They both laughed. The councillor smoked a.s.siduously.

'Very strong tobacco!'

'The King smokes it,' said the page,

'But he is stronger than I am.'

The tobacco evidently made him more intoxicated for he began to mumble.

He smoked for a little while longer, then the pipe slipped from his hand, his head dropped, and he began to snore.

Bruhl looked at him, smiled, went quietly to the door, and disappeared behind it. Then he ran straight to the King's ante-room.

A young, well-dressed boy, of lordly mien, also in page's costume, stopped him.

It was the Count Anthony Moszynski. He was distinguished among the other pages of the King, by his pale face, black hair, expressive although not beautiful features, eyes full of fire, but above all by his aristocratic bearing and stiff manners. He was with Sulkowski at the Prince's court, then he pa.s.sed, to that of Augustus II, who, it was said, liked his liveliness and intelligence, and a brilliant career was prophesied for him.

'Bruhl,' said he. 'Where have you been?'

The page hesitated to answer.

'In the marshals' room.'

'It is your hour now.'

'I know it, but I am not too late,' he answered, glancing at the clock.

'I thought,' said Moszynski laughing, 'that I should have to take your place.'

Something like anger flashed across Bruhl's face, but it became serene again immediately.

'My dear Count,' said he sweetly, 'you favourites are permitted not to be punctual, but it would be unpardonable in me. I have often acted as a subst.i.tute for others, but no one has yet been subst.i.tuted for me.'

'You wish to imply that no one is able to act as subst.i.tute for you,'

said Moszynski.

'You are good-humouredly joking at my simplicity. I try to learn that in which you lords are masters.'

Moszynski put out his hand.

'It's dangerous to fight you with words. I would prefer swords.'

Bruhl a.s.sumed a humble mien.

'I do not think I am superior in anything,' he said quietly.

'Well, I wish you good luck during your service,' said Moszynski.

'Good-bye!'

He left the room.

Bruhl breathed more freely. He went slowly to the window, and stood there seemingly looking with indifference into a courtyard paved with stones. Beneath him swarmed a numerous company of busy courtiers.

Soldiers in magnificent uniforms, chamberlains in dresses richly embroidered with gold, many lackeys and other servants moved quickly about; several post-chaises stood near the steps and yellow-dressed carriers waited for their masters; further there were carriages with German and Polish harness, hayduks in scarlet, kozaks, all const.i.tuting a variegated and picturesque whole. A chamberlain came out from the King.

'The post has not yet come?' he asked Bruhl.

'Not yet.'

'As soon as it comes, bring the letters at once. Where is Pauli?'

'In the marshal's room.'

'Very well, he must wait.'

Bruhl bowed and returned to the window, looking through it impatiently until he perceived, galloping in on a foaming horse, a postillion with a trumpet slung across his shoulder, and a leathern bag on his chest.

The page flew downstairs as fast as he could, and before the servants had noticed the postillion, he seized hold of the letters. A silver tray was in readiness in the ante-room; Bruhl placed the letters on it, and entered the King's apartment.

Augustus was walking to and fro with the Count Hoym. Seeing the page, tray, and letters, he put out his hand and took the letters and broke the seals.

Bruhl waited, while the King and Hoym read the letters.

'Ah!' exclaimed Augustus. 'Be quick, and call Pauli.'

Bruhl did not move.

'Go and call Pauli to me,' repeated the King impatiently.

The page bowed, rushed out of the room and looked into the marshal's room. Pauli was sleeping like a log. Bruhl returned to the King.

'Your Majesty!' stammered Bruhl. 'Councillor Pauli--'

'Is he here?'

'Yes, your Majesty.'