"Count Platen assured Ingelheim the affair should come to nothing," he said, rubbing his hands, whilst the minister read; "and in Berlin there is Stockhausen quite devoted to us, and determined to prevent any understanding being arrived at."
"Well, gentlemen," said Count Mensdorff, rising and returning von Meysenbug his paper, "you now know his majesty's intentions, so apply yourselves to the work. I shall see you when you visit the countess."
Both the gentlemen bowed, and left the cabinet.
Count Mensdorff sat for some time leaning back in his arm-chair. His features expressed gloomy thought, and his eyes saw nothing that was around him, but gazed into space.
He raised his head slowly, and looked round the large dimly-lighted room.
"Oh! ye great men who have watched in this spot over Austria's greatness, would that ye were in my place! My hand is ready to draw the sword for my country, but it is unable to guide the vessel of state through this dangerous sea so full of sunken rocks. I see the abyss on the brink of which Austria, my beloved Austria, stands. I cannot restrain her,--I cannot even resign the place which burdens me with the whole responsibility. I must tarry at my post since I am a soldier, and yet I cannot serve as a soldier."
Again he sank into deep thought.
A low knock was heard at the inner door of the cabinet, and almost immediately two boys entered, of the ages of five and eight; they advanced shyly and cautiously at first, but when they saw the count was alone, they ran up to him, and climbed on to his chair.
Count Mensdorff awoke from his reverie; his face cleared, and he smiled as he put his arms around the two boys.
"We have not seen you before to-day, papa," said the youngest, "and we waited to say good night. Good night, dear papa, we were to go to bed directly, and we are very tired."