Count Bruhl Part 29

'You do not know what there is in question.'

Having said this Bruhl took the medal from his pocket and showed it to the Countess. She looked at both sides, read the inscription, smiled, shrugged her shoulders, and wanted to throw it through the window, but Bruhl stopped her.

'I need it,' said he.

'What for?'

'I must find out who did it. The joke came from Saxony. If we don't punish the man who did it--'

'In the first place you must find him,' said the Countess, 'and then you had better think it over, if by taking revenge you would not be giving too great an importance to some childish folly.'

'They are too daring,' cried Bruhl. 'We were obliged to make Erell ride a donkey through the town, and it would be necessary to send the man who ordered this medal to be struck, to Konigstein.'

The Countess shrugged her shoulders contemptuously.

'Believe me, it would be better to leave vengeance to Sulkowski,' she said. 'As long as you share the responsibility of state affairs with, him, see that everything painful falls on him; you take that which is agreeable. But I hope that you will not be long in partners.h.i.+p with him,' she added.

'I don't know how long it will last,' said Bruhl. 'As far as I can see, we must wait till he makes some mistake through being too confident about his own powers.'

'You are right, and that will come soon. Sulkowski is very proud and too conceited; he thinks that he can do anything he likes with the Prince. One must give him a chance to turn a summersault. In the meantime _il tirera les marrons du feu_.'

The Countess laughed, Bruhl remained gloomy.

An intelligent-looking servant, wearing high-heeled shoes and dressed like Liotard's famous 'Chocolate girl,' brought in a silver soup tureen. She smiled to Bruhl as she put the dish on the table and disappeared.

The _tete a tete_ dinner was animated by a lively conversation. The Countess asked about Fraulein Kling, about her mission, even about Bruhl's coming marriage.

'I don't think that you will cease to love me,' she said sighing, 'the girl does not love you, and you are indifferent towards her; you marry to win favour with the Princess and the old Countess Kolowrath; I know that and therefore I keep quiet.'

'You are right,' said Bruhl, 'I have not a second heart, and the one I had, I gave to you. I marry because it is necessary, as it is necessary also for me to share government affairs with Sulkowski.'

'Try to become indispensable to the Prince: amuse him, hunt with him, leave him as little as possible. If I am not mistaken, Sulkowski will wish to take it easy, to play the part of the _grand seigneur_, you must become indispensable to the King,--I call him king already, for I am certain that he will be elected. He must have somebody always near him, he is weak, and likes the faces he is most accustomed to. You must remember all this.'

'Dear Countess!' said Bruhl, taking hold of her hand, 'be my guide, my Egeria, my Providence, and I shall be sure of my future.'

At that moment voices were heard at the gate. The servant rushed in frightened. The Countess rose frowning, angry.

'What is it?' she cried.

'Some one--I don't know, somebody from the court, with a letter or invitation, asks to be admitted.'

'Here? But who could have told him that I was here? I don't receive anyone here.'

Hardly had she p.r.o.nounced the last words, when amongst the trees in the garden appeared a man in a chamberlain's dress. The gardener tried to bar his way but the chamberlain, paying no heed to him, advanced slowly. Bruhl bent forward, looked through the window, recognised Watzdorf and at a signal from the Countess withdrew to the next room, closing the door behind him. The Countess ordered the servant to remove the second plate from the table, which was done in the twinkling of an eye, but the second gla.s.s was forgotten. The Countess sat at the table, looking with uneasiness towards the garden: she frowned and trembled with anger. In the meanwhile Watzdorf came to the house and seeing the Countess through the window, said to the gardener:

'I told you that the Countess was here, I knew it.' Saying this he bowed with an ironical smile, looking impudently round as if expecting to see someone else.

The Countess a.s.sumed a very severe expression when he entered.

'What are you doing here?' she asked threateningly.

'I beg a thousand pardons! I am the most awkward of men and the most unfortunate of chamberlains. The Prince gave me a letter for you. I went to your palace but could not find you there. The Prince's letter is very urgent. I was obliged to try and find you, and I came here.'

'I am not surprised that you tracked me like a hound,' hissed the Countess, 'but I don't like to be the game.'

Watzdorf appeared to be delighted at her anger. He glanced at the chair on which hung a napkin left, by Bruhl. The Countess noticed when he smiled at this discovery. She did not grow confused; but was angry in the highest degree.

'Where is that letter?' she asked.

Watzdorf smiled ironically and began to search his pockets, muttering in the meanwhile impertinently:

'Well, this house is charmingly situated for two.'

He took out several things and among them as if by accident the medal, then he added:

'Just imagine the daring of these agitators! Who could have expected anything like this?'

He put the medal on the table and searched further in his pockets. The Countess took the medal and looked at it, pretending that she had not seen it before: then she said indifferently, replacing it on the table:

'A very poor joke indeed! It does not hurt anybody.'

Watzdorf looked at her.

'It might suggest something to the Prince.'

'What?' asked the Countess.

'That he might find other props,' said Watzdorf.

'Whom? You, Frosch and Horch?'

'Countess, you are malicious.'

'With you one might become mad. Where is that letter?'

'I am in despair! It seems that I have lost it.'

'Running after me for the purpose of amusing me,' muttered the Countess, 'to disturb me when I wish to be alone.'

'Alone!' Watzdorf repeated, smiling ironically and looking at the chair with the napkin.

'I understand you,' the Countess burst out. 'Did the Count Moszynski tell you to spy on me?'

At that moment the rustling of a silk dress was heard, and a lady who a few minutes previously had entered the room and slipped behind a Chinese screen, came slowly to the centre of the room.

Watzdorf was struck dumb with amazement. There was something so unusual in the apparition that even the Countess trembled.

The lady was tall and not young; her gaze was piercing; her mien majestic; her face beautiful notwithstanding her age; she was dressed so strangely that one might have thought she was mad. She wore a large gown, bordered with galoons. The girdle worn on the dress underneath was golden with black cabalistic signs; on her black hair she wore a kind of turban with a band made of parchment inscribed with Hebrew letters, the ends of the band hanging over her shoulders.