'It is very curious,' said Sulkowski slowly. 'They warn me not to go, for you and Guarini have made a plot against me, to send me away purposely, in order to overthrow me.'

Bruhl wrung his hands, sprang from his chair and said angrily:

'Show me that slanderer! They dare to say that against me! I and Father Guarini! I who fear him as a pestilence! I would dare to attack you whom the King calls friend! It is stupid and ridiculous!'

'Calm yourself,' said Sulkowski laughing. 'I told you this to show you how stupid people are. I hope you do not think that I distrust or fear you.'

And he added after a while:

'It is possible that a foolish man might make such an attempt, but it would cost him dear; I am sure of the King's favour, he has no secrets from me.'

He shrugged his shoulders contemptuously.

'In that case,' Bruhl rejoined, 'I shall still more insist that you remain.'

'Excuse me, but exactly for the same reason I must go, in order to prove to the idiots that I am not afraid of anybody.'

Bruhl waved his hand.

'I am sure it came from Berlin, where the gossip about Saxony originated,' he said.

'I am going to Prague to-morrow,' said Sulkowski, for I must look at Prague from a strategical points of view, as we are going to take it.

Can I take leave of your wife?'

Bruhl rang the bell. The lackey entered.

'Is your mistress at home?'

'Yes, your Excellency.'

'Announce the Count Sulkowski and me.'

The lackey left the room; there was silence; then he returned and said:

'My lady is ready to receive your Excellencies.'

Sulkowski rose from the sofa and went to the drawing-room; Bruhl followed him, smiling notwithstanding the emotions he had just experienced.

In the drawing-room Bruhl's beautiful wife was waiting for them. She had just returned from the Queen's _cercle_, which was usually held from four to six o'clock. She was dressed and radiant in her beauty which astonished more than attracted. There was something wild in her eyes, something cruel in her mouth, those who looked at her became uneasy. It was the reflection of the disquiet raging in her soul.

She looked at Sulkowski.

'I have come to take leave of you.' said Sulkowski with indifference, bowing slightly. 'I am sure you know I am going away. I am sorry to leave such a charming court, but there are duties--'

'Ah, yes,' said the beautiful Frances, 'I heard at her Majesty's _cercle_ that you are leaving us. I was very much surprised.'

'Did your husband not tell you about it?' asked Sulkowski.

'My husband!' said Frau Bruhl, making a funny face, 'he is so busy that sometimes I do not see him for a month. I have to learn his whereabouts from other people.'

'You ought to scold him for it.'

'Why?' said Frances ironically. 'He is free and I am free also. Can there be anything more agreeable in matrimony? We have not time to be saturated with each other and we are happy.'

She looked scornfully at her husband, who took it as mirthfully as he could and laughed in the most natural way.

'Does the countess remain?' the lady asked.

'Unfortunately, I must leave her!' rejoined Sulkowski. 'Although I should like her to accompany me on the campaign.'

'Then you think of fighting?'

'Yes! Pray wish me good luck that I may bring you a Turk's head.'

'I do not wish for that,' she said maliciously. 'Bring back your own head safe, that will suffice. With a wreath of laurels on it, it would look very well on a medal.'

Her own allusion to a medal recalled Watzdorf to her memory and made her eyes burn with fire.

'I wish you good luck,' she said, making a curtsey. Her eyes said something else.

Sulkowski bowed carelessly. The hostess turned towards her apartment.

The host took Sulkowski by the arm, and whispering something confidentially, led him back to his study.

CHAPTER XVII

One winter evening, several months after Sulkowski's departure, Father Guarini entered the King's room. It was the hour which Augustus III was accustomed either to spend in the Queen's apartment, or in the opera, or shooting at a target.

That day Augustus III remained closeted in his room. Twice a chamberlain came to tell him that the Queen was waiting for him, but he sent him away. It was a sign that the King was in a very bad humour. So they told Father Guarini about it and he rushed to the rescue. He alone could improve his temper. The old priest entered smiling as usual.

The King looked at him gloomily and turned away his head.

Notwithstanding that, the Padre sat on a stool and said:

'May I ask your Majesty what makes my lord so sad? His faithful servant is sorry.'

Augustus III moved his head, muttered something and took a pipe.

'It would relieve your Majesty,' continued the Jesuit, 'if your Majesty would tell me.'

'A trifle,' said the King.

'Then it is not worth while to be sad about,' rejoined the Padre.

'A trifle!' the King repeated, and having risen, he walked to and fro, sighing, as was his custom when angry.