"I give you five minutes to dress," said Buddenbrock, taking his watch from his pocket and pointing to the door of her chamber.
Consuelo was frightened, but having made up her mind to assume all the dangers and misfortunes which might menace the princess and Trenck, dressed in less time that had been given her, and went in company with Buddenbrock, apparently perfectly calm. The aide had seen the king in a rage, and though he did not know why, when he received an order to bring the criminal, felt all the royal rage pass into his own heart. When he found Consuelo so calm, he remembered that his master had a great passion for this girl. He said that perhaps she might come out the victor in the contest which was about to begin, and be angry at his harsh conduct. He therefore thought it best to resume his humility, remembering he could play the tyrant when her disgrace was certain. He offered her his hand with an awkward and strange courtesy, to help her in the carriage he had brought, and looking shrewdly and sharply at her, as he sat on the front seat opposite her, with his hat in his hand, said:
"This, signorina, is a magnificent winter's day."
"Certainly, baron," said Consuelo, in a mocking tone. "It is a fine time to go beyond the walls."
As she spoke thus, Consuelo thought, with truly stoic calmness, that she was about to pass the rest of the day en route to some fortress. Buddenbrock, who could not conceive of such heroism, fancied that she menaced him, in case she triumphed over the stormy trials which awaited her, with disgrace and imprisonment. He became pale; he attempted to be agreeable, but could not, and remained thoughtful and discountenanced, asking himself anxiously what he had done to displease Porporina.
Consuelo was introduced into a cabinet, the rose-colored furniture of which she had time to see was scratched by the puppies that ran in and out of it, covered with snuff, and very dirty. The king was not there, but she heard his voice in the next room, and when he was in a bad humor his voice was a terrible one. "I tell you I will make an example of this rabble, which long has been gnawing the bowels of Prussia. I will purge them!" said he, as he walked with his creaking boots up and down, in the greatest agitation.
"Your majesty will do reason and Prussia a great service," said the person to whom he spoke, "but it is no reason why a woman——"
"Yes, Voltaire, it is a reason. You do not know that the worst intrigues and most infernal machinations originate in their brains?"
"A woman, sire! a woman!"
"Well, why repeat that again? You are fond of women, and have the misfortune to live under the control of a petticoat, and cannot treat them like soldiers and slaves when they interfere in serious matters."