Count Bruhl Part 27

Sulkowski gave Ludovici to understand that the interview was over for the present and advanced towards the door, through which there appeared a lady dressed very strangely.

Figures such as she presented are seen only on screens or made of china. Over-dressed and very plain, thin, sallow, smelling of _l'eau de la reine d'Hongrie_, wearing a large wig, the little woman rushed in looking sweetly at Sulkowski with her small eyes.

The moment that this unwelcome guest took the room by storm, Ludovici bowed humbly, left the room, and the new-comer looked at him and said:

'_Ah! ce cher comte!_ You see, you ungrateful, before you could learn that I was in Dresden, as soon as I had kissed the hand of my august pupil, I came to see you. _N'est ce pas joli de via part?_'

Sulkowski bowed and wanted to kiss her hand, but she struck him with her fan and said:

'Let that be--I am old, it would not be seemly; but let me sit somewhere.'

She looked round and sat on the nearest chair.

'I must breathe; I wanted to talk to you privately.'

Sulkowski stood before her ready to listen.

'Well, we have lost our great magnificent Augustus.'

She sighed, so did Sulkowski.

'It's a pity that he died, but between ourselves, he lived long enough, he abused his life a great deal--I cannot speak about that: _des horreurs_! What will become now of you, poor orphans? The Prince? He is inconsolable in his grief? True? Yes? I came from my court with condolences to my august and dearest pupil.'

She bent a little and leaned on the arm of the chair, raising the fan to her mouth.

'What news? My dear Count, what news? I already know that you have been appointed to a position due to you. We are all glad of it, for we know that our court can count on you.'

Sulkowski bowed.

From those words it was easy to guess that the new-comer was sent by the Austrian court. She was a famous teacher of the Archd.u.c.h.ess Josephine, Fraulein Kling, whom they used to send where a man would attract too much attention. Fraulein Kling was one of the most able diplomats in the service of the Austrian court.

'I suppose you already know about everything.'

'Dear Count, I don't know anything; I know only that the Kurfurst loves you, that Bruhl is going to help you. But pray, tell me, who is this Bruhl?'

Sulkowski became thoughtful.

'He is a friend of mine!' he answered at length.

'Now I understand. You know that the Princess promised him the Countess Kolowrath's hand and that the girl, as it seems, does not fancy him very much. Was Bruhl not madly in love with the Countess Moszynski?'

All this was said so quickly, that it gave Sulkowski no time to think over his answer.

'Yes,' said he shortly, 'it seems that he is going to marry.'

'But he is a Lutheran?'

'He is going to be converted to Catholicism.'

'It is to be hoped not in the same way as the late magnificent and great Augustus II, who used to put rosaries round the necks of his favourite hounds.'

Sulkowski was silent.

'What more? I have not yet seen the Prince--has he changed? Has he become sadder? I pity him! Mourning--he will not have an opera for a long time. And what about Faustina? Is she superseded by someone else?'

'The Prince wishes to keep everything as it was during his late father's life. n.o.body could supersede Faustina.'

'But she is old.'

'She charms with her voice alone.'

Fraulein covered her face with her fan and moved her head.

'It is a very delicate question,' she said softly, 'for me as a woman, but I am inquisitive, I must know. My dear Count, tell me, is he still faithful to his wife? I love her so much, my dear, august pupil!'

The Count retreated.

'It is beyond my doubt,' said he with animation. 'The Princess does not leave him for a moment; she accompanies him to the hunting parties, to Hubertsburg and Diannenburg.'

'In order that he may become sooner tired of her,' whispered the lady.

'That's unwise--I am always afraid of that pa.s.sion which must be in his blood.'

She looked at the Count, who shook his head.

'The Prince is so pious,' said he.

Fraulein Kling covered her smile with her fan. The windows of the room in which they were sitting looked on the square. Although they spoke quite loudly, some laughter and shouting became so overpowering, that Sulkowski, frowning, could not help turning towards the window to see what was going on in the street.

In those times street noises and shouting of the mob were very rare. If anything of the kind happened the cause for it was nearly always an official one. In this case, one could see through the windows crowds of people in the street, in the windows and doors of the opposite houses.

Amongst the crowd, moving like a wave, a strange procession advanced.

Fraulein Kling, very curious, sprang from her chair and rushed to the window, and, having pushed aside the curtain, she and Sulkowski looked into the street.

The crowd pa.s.sed under the windows, rus.h.i.+ng after a man dressed in dark clothes and sitting on a donkey, his face turned toward the a.s.s's tail.

The donkey was led by a man dressed in red. It was painful to look at the unfortunate culprit, an elderly man, bent and crushed by shame.

From the window one could see his pale face with the painful expression of a punished man, who, judging by his dress, belonged to the better cla.s.s. His pockets were full of papers sticking out; his clothes were unb.u.t.toned and threadbare. A kind of stupor evidently followed the humiliation, for he mechanically clasped the donkey in order not to fall, he did not look at what was going on around him, though men armed with halberds surrounded him, while the always merciless crowd threw mud and small stones at him. His dress and face was covered with dirt.

The men laughed, the children rushed, screamed and thoughtlessly tortured the unfortunate man.

'What is it?' cried Fraulein Kling. 'What is going on? I don't understand!'

'Oh! nothing!' said Sulkowski indifferently, 'a very simple thing. It cannot be permitted that any scribbler can dare to criticise the people belonging to the upper cla.s.ses, and speak about them disrespectfully.'

'Naturally,' answered Fraulein Kling, 'one cannot permit them to attack the most sacred things.'

'That man,' said Sulkowski, 'is an editor of some paper called a gazette, or news; his name is Erell. We noticed that he took too many liberties. At length he said something very outrageous in the _Dresden Merkwurdigkeiten_ and they ordered him to be put on such a donkey as he is himself.'

'_Et c'est juste_!' cried Fraulein Kling. 'One must be severe with such people. I should like to see the same in Vienna, that we might catch those who take the liberty of speaking about our secrets in Hamburg and the Hague.'