'Do you know why?'

'Lord's disgrace. G.o.d's disgrace.'

'No, it's trifling with the sleeper,' said Henniche. 'An intelligent man ought to put a sleeper on the altar and pray to it: the women do everything.'

'But they fall also: Cosel is in Stolpen.'

'And who overthrew Cosel?' asked Henniche. 'If you look through a gla.s.s you will see the white fingers of the Countess Denhoff and a small sleeper, under which the great King was held.'

Bruhl sighed but made no remark.

'Your Excellency entered on a new life yesterday, and ought to remember one word: woman.'

'I remember it,' Bruhl said gloomily, 'but we don't have time to talk about it. Then you are with me?'

'For life or death,' answered Henniche. 'I am a man of no importance but great experience; and believe me that my wisdom is quite equal to those who bear silver trays to drawing-rooms. I need make no secret to you that for a long time I served as a lackey and used to open the door. But before that they opened to me. My first experience was in Lutzen as a revenue officer.'

'That is why I need you. The King needs money and the country is already overtaxed. The people groan and complain.'

'Who would listen to them?' answered Henniche indifferently. 'They will never be satisfied, they will always complain. One must squeeze them as one squeezes a lemon for the juice.'

'But how?'

'We shall find the means.'

'They will complain.'

'To whom?' said Henniche laughing. 'Can we not close the road with bars, and send those who are too noisy to Konigstein, or Sonnenstein, or Plissenburg, for the sake of the King's tranquillity?'

'Yes, that's true,' said Bruhl thoughtfully, 'but it won't bring any money.'

'On the contrary, we must be severe, if we wish to obtain it.'

Bruhl listened attentively.

'We need a great deal of money; the carnival will be costly.'

'Yes, and all that is spent at court does not sink into the ground, it returns to the people, therefore they can pay. We need money for the King and for ourselves.'

Bruhl smiled and said:

'Naturally, we cannot toil for nothing.'

'And endure so many curses.'

'Well, when it is a matter of duty, one cannot pay attention to cursing. The King must have that which he needs.'

'And we, what is due to us,' Henniche added.

Bruhl stepped before him and said after careful thought:--

'Then keep your eyes and ears open; inform me about everything, work for me and for yourself; I have already so much to do, that I can undertake no more without you.'

'Rely on me,' said Henniche. 'I quite understand, that while working for you, I work for myself. I don't promise you Platonic love; for thus if I mistake not, they call kissing the gloves, having no respect for the hands. One must clearly define the business. I shall remember my own interests; you and I will not forget the King.'

He bowed. Bruhl clapped him on the shoulder.

'Henniche, I shall help you to rise.'

'Provided it's not too high, and not in the new market square,'

whispered Henniche.

'You may be easy about that. And now, what would you advise me to do in order that I may not lose my footing at the court? It is easy to mount the ladder, but the question is not to break one's neck.'

'I have only one piece of advice,' said the former lackey, 'everything is done by the women.'

'Oh! Oh!' said Bruhl,' there are other means too.'

'Yes, I know that your Excellency has Padre Guarini on his side.'

'Silence, Henniche!'

'I am already silent, but I must add all the same, that your Excellency must bear in mind the power of women, it will do no harm to have two strings to one's bow.'

Bruhl sighed.

'I shall remember your advice.'

They were both silent for a few moments.

'How does your Excellency stand with the Count Sulkowski?' whispered Henniche. 'One must not forget that the sun sets, that the people are mortal, that the sons succeed the fathers, and Sulkowski the Bruhls.'

'Oh!' said Bruhl, 'he is my friend.'

'I would prefer that his wife was your Excellency's friend,' said Henniche. 'I put more faith in her.'

'Sulkowski has a n.o.ble heart.'

'I don't deny it, but the best heart prefers the chest in which it beats. And how about the Count Moszynski?'

Bruhl shivered and blushed: looked at Henniche sharply, as though he would learn whether he mentioned the name with any design. But Henniche's face was placid and indifferent.

'The Count Moszynski is of no importance whatever,' hissed Bruhl, 'and he never shall be of any importance.'

'His Majesty gave him his own daughter,' said Henniche slowly.

Bruhl was silent.