Count Bruhl Part 15

'Come as you are.'

'Such is the order?'

'Word for word.'

Bruhl rose as if he were forced, but he was satisfied inwardly.

They both went silently upstairs.

The door opened, Bruhl entered slowly with such a sorrowful expression on his face, that the Prince dropped his pipe and rose.

The door closed and Bruhl fell on his knees.

'I bring to Your Majesty the saddest news, but first bow down at the feet of the new King. Our most gracious lord, the King, is dead.'

Frederick stood for a while as if turned into a block of stone; he covered his face. There was a moment of silence; at length Frederick gave Bruhl his hand to be kissed and made a sign to him to rise.

'Bruhl, how and when did it happen?'

'On the first day of February, the King Augustus the Great died in my arms and entrusted me with his last will, with the jewels of the Crown and secret papers. I, myself, brought the jewels and the papers and I deposit them at the feet of your Majesty.'

Frederick again gave him his hand to be kissed; Bruhl bent very low and pretended to be crying; covering his eyes with a handkerchief, he sobbed. The new King also took out a handkerchief and began to weep for his father, whom he loved and respected.

'Bruhl, tell me, how did this misfortune occur?' he said quietly.

In a m.u.f.fled voice, trying to master his emotion, Bruhl narrated the circ.u.mstances of the illness, its course, and told of the King's patience and peace at the moment of death. At length he took out a letter and handed it to Frederick, who impatiently tore open the envelope. After having read it, he kissed it.

The letter contained the blessing and recommendation of his most faithful and best servant, the messenger of his last will. Frederick looked at Bruhl and sighed.

'I will do as my father advises and commands me.'

The letter was still lying on Frederick's knees, when the door leading to the Princess's rooms opened, and there entered Josepha dressed in black, Sulkowski and Guarini.

How surprised they were at seeing Frederick crying, Bruhl in his travelling clothes standing at the door, and the opened letter!

Frederick, still sobbing, threw himself into his wife's arms; she began to cry also, according to the Spanish etiquette prescribed to rulers and their courtiers as the form of sorrow and expression of grief.

Sulkowski looked at Bruhl with disapproval and whispered to him:

'You told me, you would wait for me.'

'Someone betrayed the secret of my arrival; they called me; I was obliged to obey.'

'Who did that?'

'Watzdorf.'

Sulkowski seemed to be trying to remember the name.

The five people gathered in that room made an interesting group.

Frederick alone was really sorrowful. Accustomed to respect and love his father, overwhelmed by grief and the fear of the burden that now fell on his shoulders, Frederick's face was very much changed. Usually serene and quiet, it was now twisted with grief which he could not conceal. Josepha's sorrow was more simulated than true; she never forgot for a moment her dignity and etiquette. Sulkowski was thoughtful and gloomy, as a man who, coming into power, calculates how to begin.

His great self-esteem never left him even in the presence of the lady, to whom his respect was due.

Padre Guarini bent his head, closed his eyes, and twitched his face with an expression well a.s.sumed for the moment. Bruhl while not forgetting that he should appear to be overwhelmed by sorrow, could not abstain from glancing from time to time at those present, especially at Sulkowski. He seemed to see an adversary.

While the Princess tried to comfort her husband, Sulkowski mustered up courage and coming nearer proposed that he should call the dignitaries for a council and announce to the capital and the country, by ordering the bells to be rung, that Augustus II was dead.

Josepha looked at the intruding adviser with some aversion, whispered something to her husband, and majestically directed her steps towards the same door through which she had entered a short time before, Guarini following her.

Those who remained were silent for a time. Bruhl waited for orders which the new King did not dare to give; Sulkowski gave Bruhl to understand that he had better leave them.

Bruhl hesitated, and then he left the room. Frederick did not notice him go out. They remained alone, till suddenly Frederick took the handkerchief from his eyes and said:

'Where is Bruhl?'

'He went out.'

'He must not leave me. Pray command him to stay here.'

Sulkowski wished to protest, but then he opened the door, whispered through it and returned.

'One must bear G.o.d's will as a man and king,' said he familiarly. 'The King has no time for sorrow.'

Frederick only made a gesture.

'The council shall be called at once.'

'Then go and preside at it; I can't,' said the King. 'Call Bruhl here.'

'But why is Bruhl necessary?' said Sulkowski in a tone of reproach.

'He? In his arms my father died. Father recommended him to me, I wish to have him, let him come.'

'They have sent for him,' Sulkowski said shrugging his shoulders impatiently.

'Joseph, don't be angry,' said Frederick in a plaintive tone.

As he said this the bells began to ring mournfully in the churches of the capital of Saxony. Frederick kneeled and prayed. Sulkowski followed his example. One after the other the bells rang out, the solemn sounds forming a gloomy choir, accompanied by the whispering of the people, whispering to each other the sad news.

CHAPTER VI

While the preceding events were taking place in the castle, preparations were in progress at the opera for the performance of 'Cleophila.'

The splendour with which the operas were put upon the stage, a hundred horses and camels appearing with numberless artistes in gorgeous oriental costumes, and the fairy-like effects produced by elaborate machinery, combined to attract as large an audience as did the charming voice of Signora Faustina Bordoni.