The last days of the carnival were more merry than in former years, because everyone tried to make the King cheerful, on whose forehead could often be seen something like sadness and yearning.

He yawned very often during the afternoon, and Guarini's jokes could not make him laugh. They asked Faustina to sing the King's favourite songs. Frosch and Horch were promised a reward for good tricks. They induced the King to shoot every day at a target. The entertainments at the castle were very brilliant. BrÜhl would hardly leave the castle; he would stand at the door trying to guess the King's thoughts. Sometimes Augustus would be in a better humour and would smile; but very often too, during the laughter, a cloud would come and the monarch's face would become suddenly gloomy; then he would turn to the window, and appeared not to see or to hear anything.

The next day Sulkowski received an order to go immediately to Nebigan. He was obliged to leave Dresden. The people were waiting for him on his way in order to jeer at him.

His little dog Fido was running after his carriage, someone shot him. It was done in the day time, in the town, and no one said anything. The Countess cried, the Count said not a word, he bore it stoically, pretending to know nothing about it.

The vile mob accompanied him beyond the bridge, running and shouting after him. The coachman urged the horses, the Count looked into the distance and did not even move--he felt superior to it all.

BrÜhl was told all about this; he only smiled.

At last the new minister learned through his spies that Sulkowski's downfall aroused in the court rather regret and fear than pleasure. They murmured everywhere.

The only remedy for that was to isolate the King so that no unauthorised word could penetrate to him. During the next few days, immediately the new officials were appointed, BrÜhl's brother became the Grand Marshal of the court, the pages and lackeys whom they suspected of having any relations with Sulkowski, were changed.

Augustus got everything he was fond of, but he was strictly watched. He felt happy, since he could satisfy his habits and besides that, desired nothing else.

It was impossible immediately to think of restraining the Queen's influence, but it was in BrÜhl's plans to do so. He determined to act through his wife alone, for he feared that Guarini would not consent to use such radical measures. BrÜhl felt omnipotent, and his viceroys, as they called his councillors, grew more and more arrogant.

They were still afraid of Sulkowski and it was necessary to finish with him once and for ever. Henniche collected proofs of money appropriated. The action that now had to be put through was, to confiscate the FÜrstenburg Palace, given to him by the King, to take from him Nebigan Castle, and lock him up in KÖnigstein. As there had been many similar examples in the reign of Augustus the Strong, BrÜhl expected to be able to carry out his plans very easily. Sulkowski, free, was dangerous. Sulkowski in Vienna would be threatening.

BrÜhl was still more alarmed that the Count did not seem to be crushed by his misfortune. He ordered his furniture to be brought from Dresden to Nebigan, and the beautiful situation of the castle made sojourn in it quite bearable. From his window Sulkowski could see the tower of the King's castle, in which he had been such a powerful man.

The carnival drew to its end, the Count did not leave Nebigan.

Every day his steps were dogged by spies, but they could not learn anything. Nobody visited him from town. Every day the Count's servants would go to Dresden for provisions, but they had no intercourse with anyone except the shopkeepers.

The Count would spend whole days reading, conversing with his wife, and writing letters, but the spies never learned how they were sent.

One morning BrÜhl entered the King's room with a pile of papers. The King hated the mere sight of papers, and talk about intrigues. One word would make him sullen.

BrÜhl would shorten the disagreeable duty by handing to the King documents ready for his signature. Augustus III would sit at a table and would sign them like a machine, not looking at the documents; his signature was always the same, clear, precise, majestic and quiet.

That day, the King, having noticed the papers, was preparing to perform his onerous duty, but BrÜhl stood motionless, and did not unfold the documents.

An enquiring look made him speak.

'Sire,' he said, 'I have to-day such a disagreeable affair that for the sake of my lord's peace I should like not to speak about it.'

The King twisted his mouth.

'I would have preferred that somebody else should have done this, but nobody would take my place,' said BrÜhl sighing. 'Consequently I must speak myself.'

'H'm?' said Augustus.

'Your Majesty knows well,' BrÜhl continued, 'that I am not mixed up in Sulkowski's affairs.'

'It is over! Enough of it!' interrupted the King impatiently.

'Not altogether,' rejoined BrÜhl, 'and that is why I feel so unhappy. I took his duties, I am an honest man, I was obliged to investigate everything.'

The King stared at BrÜhl; there was something alarming in that look.

'Among his papers were found some letters accusing your Majesty's ungrateful servant; there were many abuses; deficits in the accounts--'

The King cleared his throat.

'But I still have money?' he asked with energy.

'Yes, but not as much as there ought to be,' said the minister. 'But the worst is this, that the letters exchanged between Sulkowski and some foreign courts condemn him as a most dangerous man. If he goes to Poland he will be protected by the laws of the republic; should he go to Vienna, he might be a menace to us there. In a word, wherever Sulkowski might go--'

BrÜhl looked attentively at the King's face as he said this, but although he knew his character well, he could not guess what impression he had made on Augustus by his speech. Augustus looked surprised, gazed round the room, grew red and pale by turns, appeared confused, but did not say a word.

The minister waited for the answer. Augustus cleared his throat, coughed loudly and looked challengingly at BrÜhl.

'Your Majesty,' BrÜhl continued, 'knows that I am against severe measures. I also loved that man, he was my friend as long as he was faithful to my lord. To-day as a minister, as a faithful servant, I must act against my heart.'

It was evidently an understood thing between BrÜhl and Guarini, that the Padre was to enter during this conversation, and in he came. But the King made quite a different use of his presence and asked after Faustina.

'She is very well,' answered Guarini laughing. 'Chi ha la sanita, È ricco, e se no 'l sa.'

But BrÜhl stood there like an executioner. 'Will Your Majesty permit me to finish my unpleasant business?' he said. 'Father Guarini knows all about it.'

'Ah! He knows! Very well!' said the King and turning to the Padre asked him: 'And what do you think of it?'

The Padre shrugged his shoulders. 'I hold the same opinion as my gracious lord,' he said laughing. 'I am a priest, it is not for me to judge these things.'

There was a pause; Augustus looked at the floor; BrÜhl was frightened.

'During the reign of Augustus the Strong, Sulkowski would by this time have been in KÖnigstein,' said BrÜhl.

'No! No!' said Augustus, looking at BrÜhl and growing pale; then he rose and paced to and fro.

Guarini stood sighing.

'I never insisted on treating anyone severely,' rejoined BrÜhl. 'I was and I am for clemency, but there are proofs of such ingratitude--'

The Jesuit raised his eyes and sighed again. He and BrÜhl both watched the King's every movement and did not know what to think. Never before had he been a riddle to them, knowing him they were sure of being able to make him give in, but the question was, how to do it without wearying him, for then he would be angry with them for tiring him. BrÜhl looked at Guarini as though urging him to finish the matter. The Padre looked back at the minister with the same silent request. Augustus directed his gaze steadily to the floor.

'What are your Majesty's orders?' asked BrÜhl persisting.

'What about?' muttered the King.

'About Sulkowski.'

'Ah! yes--yes--'

And again he looked down at the floor.

At length he turned to BrÜhl, and as it seemed with a great effort, pointing to the table, said:

'Leave the papers until to-morrow.'

The minister grew confused, for he was not willing to leave the papers. Although he was sure that the King would not read them he was cautious, and being afraid that something unexpected might happen, wished to finish the business at one blow. He looked at Guarini.

'Sire,' said the Jesuit softly, 'it is such a bitter pill that it is not worth while to taste it twice. Alcun pensier no paga mai debito. Why think it over?'

The King did not answer; presently he turned to BrÜhl and said: 'In the afternoon shooting at the target in the castle.'

The order was significant, BrÜhl was confounded.

'The last reindeer tired us,' added the King, 'but it was worthy of our efforts.'

He was silent again.

'And the last died,' he added sighing.

The clock pointed to the hour at which the King was accustomed to go to the Queen; he ordered a chamberlain to be called.

BrÜhl was dismissed, having gained nothing, and his efforts were frustrated. He did not know why the King resisted him. The King hastened off. They were obliged to leave him, and BrÜhl called the Padre into the next room.

He threw the papers on the table.

'I am at a loss to understand it!' he cried.

'Patienza! Col tempo e colla paglia maturano le nespole!' answered Guarini. 'Wait till to-morrow; you could not expect to do it so soon. The King must grow accustomed to the idea, and as he dislikes every fresh attack, you will succeed.'

The minister relapsed into thought.

'At any rate, it is bad,' he said, 'that he is still so fond of Sulkowski.'

They began to whisper, taking counsel of each other. The Jesuit went to the Queen, BrÜhl returned home with the papers.

The King being fond of regular habits, while smoking his pipe in the afternoon, would never see anyone except those who could amuse him. Even BrÜhl was then obliged to forget his duties as prime minister and assume the rÔle of one of the King's fools. But, as there was no danger on those afternoons, the minister showed himself very seldom. The King amused himself with his fools, and was not permitted to send for anybody outside the court, for even if BrÜhl's creatures received such an order, they would find some pretext for not fulfilling it, until they had consulted the minister.

From the time of Augustus the Strong there remained in the court the famous fool Joseph Frohlich, who wore a silver chamberlain's key on his back containing a quart of wine.

BrÜhl, who distrusted him as much as the Baron Schmiedel, tried to get him dismissed, but Augustus would not permit him to drive off all his father's faithful servants. Frohlich had his own house beyond the bridge, was well to do, and seldom appeared at court; but every time he came, Augustus would laugh as soon as he caught sight of his round face.

That afternoon BrÜhl was not with the King. Frosch had a swollen face, the result of a blow from Horch, and could not come to amuse the King. Therefore no one was surprised when the King told the page to go and bring Frohlich.

The fool was very much surprised when he received the order to go to the castle. He quickly donned one of the three hundred dresses purchased for him by Augustus the Strong, hung his famous key on his back, and rushed through the bridge thinking by what joke he could best amuse the King.

Even fools have hours in which they do not care to laugh. Frohlich, semper nunquam traurig, as the motto ran on a medal struck in his honour, was in such a mood that day that he was not frÖhlich but sour as vinegar. He would not confess it, but he liked the times of Augustus II better than those of his son.

But the habit of being amusing to order enabled him to be merry when he appeared before the King.

Besides being witty, Frohlich was a very able conjuror, and it was just then more easy for him to begin by some trick than a witticism.

Kneeling before the King, Frohlich said that he ran so fast that his throat was dry. He took off his key and asked if his Majesty would be kind enough to permit him to strengthen his forces by a draught of wine. The King clapped his hands and told a page to bring a bottle.

In the meantime Frohlich employed himself cleaning his key which was a little rusty, and from which he was going to drink, complaining that he seldom used it now. The page stood with the bottle ready to pour in the wine, when Frohlich looking at the bottom of his key, grew frightened at seeing something in it.

'Who would have expected,' he exclaimed, 'that a bird would build a nest in it?' And a canary flew out of the key. The King laughed; but that was not all; there was still something more in the key, and the fool took out a pile of ribbons, six handkerchiefs, a candle, and a handful of nuts. Then he said that not being certain that there was not an enchanted princess in the key, he would prefer to drink the King's health from a glass. After some refreshment, the fool began to amuse the King by imitating well-known actors.

The entertainment lasted about half an hour. The King laughed, but Frohlich noticed that in spite of his apparent mirth, he was uneasy, perplexed and distracted. He wondered what the cause could be, when, to his surprise, the King went to the farthest window, and motioned to him to follow.

There was something so mysterious and unusual in this that Frohlich was alarmed. He followed the King, however, to the window, where he was standing, looking round undecided and alarmed.

The fool could not solve the riddle.

'Frohlich, listen,' said the King in a whisper, 'h'm! laugh aloud, laugh, but listen to what I am going to say, Do you understand?'

As yet the fool did not understand, but he began to laugh so loudly as to deafen the loudest conversation. The King took hold of his ear and drew it almost to his lips.

'Frohlich is faithful, honest, will not betray me,' he said. 'To-day, go secretly to Nebigan. Understand? Tell him, understand, to escape at once to Poland.'

Frohlich could not understand why the King should use him as a secret messenger. It did not strike him to think of Sulkowski. He made a gesture that he did not understand. The King bent again over his ear and said one word only: 'Sulkowski!'

Having said this, as though frightened at having mentioned a name forbidden to be spoken at the court, he drew aside, Frohlich could not laugh any more. He was so frightened that he did not yet comprehend.

His face must have expressed the doubt, for the King told him again to laugh, aloud, repeating the order precisely.

He spoke quickly, incoherently, but at length the fool understood that the King told him to warn the Count of his danger, and bid him escape to Poland.

In order not to arouse suspicion Augustus continued for a time to listen to the fool's jokes and then taking a handful of gold pieces from his pocket, put them into Frohlich's hands.

'Go!' said the King.

Frohlich, after being permitted to kiss the King's hand, went out and ran home as fast as he could.

He hardly grasped what had happened to him. It was necessary to collect his thoughts and take counsel with himself, how he could best fulfil the King's order, for he was afraid of his entourage.

He fell into deep thought, and sighed. The task was difficult. Even had he been less familiar with the life of the court and the fate of favourites, he could easily guess that there were plenty of spies round Nebigan and probably also in the castle.

Frohlich was a well-known person, but happily the frequent fancy-dress balls, given during the reign of Augustus the Strong, accustomed most people to the art of disguising themselves. Frohlich closeted himself in his room and without losing time commenced to work at his transformation.

It was early in February, the river Elbe was covered with strong ice, and it seemed to Frohlich that access to Nebigan was easiest and safest from the river. It was too late to travel on foot, so he hired a sledge at Briesnitz, and having promised the driver high pay, was driven swiftly to an inn in the village of Nebigan. Telling the driver to wait, he went out through, another door and walked towards the river.

He felt that only by some good luck could he fulfil his dangerous mission. On arriving at the castle he hesitated, then he entered the courtyard and ran as fast as he could to the hall. It was dark and no one was about. Sulkowski never kept many servants and now he had still less. The stairs were dark, and only on ascending them did he hear voices. In the anteroom the servants were quarrelling over their game of cards.

At the sight of a strangely dressed man, coming at such an unusual hour, they sprang to their feet, asking him what he wanted.

Frohlich said that he must see the Count at once. The butler first searched his pockets, fearing that he might carry arms, or might have come with some evil design, then went to the Count to announce the stranger.

There was some stir in the castle: the wig, the clothes and the handkerchief with which his face was covered did not permit them to recognise Frohlich. They showed him into a drawing-room, just lighted for the purpose. Sulkowski was pale but quiet and as proud as if he were still prime minister. The visitor requested that the servant might be dismissed. The request aroused some suspicion and alarm, but the Count did not betray his feelings. As soon as they were alone, Frohlich uncovered his face.

'Two hours ago,' he said, 'I was called to the King; I shall repeat his own words: "To-day, secretly, go to Nebigan--tell him to escape at once to Poland."'

Sulkowski listened indifferently.

'The King told you this?' he asked.

'Yes, and with fear lest he might be overheard, as though he were a slave and not a king.'

'He is a slave and will remain so for ever,' sighed Sulkowski.

He became pensive.

'May God reward you,' he said presently, 'for the trouble you have taken for me, or rather for the King. How can I show you my gratitude?'

'Only by this, that your Excellency fulfils the King's will to-night.'

The Count stood as if riveted to the ground. Frohlich went out to find his sledge, while the Count still stood undecided as to what to do.

He knew enough of BrÜhl to understand that his wisest course was to follow the King's advice.

The next day as the King was returning from chapel, Guarini came to him to wish him good morning. To this the King would usually answer by sounds similar to those produced by clearing his throat, laughter or hiccoughs. The King's face indicated excellent health, which he inherited from his father, and as he did not abuse it, it served him admirably.

Guarini with other courtiers accompanied the King.

The King looked at him inquisitively several times, as if trying to learn something from the expression of his face; at length he said laconically: 'Cold.'

'I feel it, for at best I am an Italian,' said Guarini, 'but notwithstanding the cold,' he continued in a whisper, 'there are people who do not fear to travel. A certain Count whose name I will not mention, for he was unfortunate enough to fall into disgrace--started last night, so I heard, to an unknown destination.'

The King as though not hearing made no answer.

BrÜhl was waiting in the King's room with the documents, but he was distracted and morose.

Augustus came to him quickly. 'BrÜhl! those papers of yesterday; we must finish with them.'

'All is over,' answered the minister, sighing.