“I need not tell you,” said the prelate quietly, “that I am in Bleiberg only for that purpose. And since we are together, I will tell you this: Madame the duchess will never sit upon this throne. To-day I am practically regent, with full powers from his Majesty. I have summoned von Wallenstein and Mollendorf for a purpose which I shall make known to you.” He held up two documents, and gently waving them: “These contain the dismissal of both gentlemen, together with my reasons. There were three; one I shall now destroy because it has suddenly become void.” He tore it up, turned, and flung the pieces into the grate.
The Marshal glanced instinctively at his shoulder straps, and saw that they had come very near to oblivion.
“There is nothing more, Marshal,” went on the prelate. “What I had to say to you has slipped my mind. Under the change of circumstances, it might embarrass you to meet von Wallenstein and Mollendorf. You have spoken frankly, and in justice to you I will return in kind. Yes, in the old days I was ambitious; but God has punished me through those I love. I shall leave to you the selection of a new Colonel of the cuirassiers.”
“What! and Beauvais, too?” exclaimed the Marshal.
“Yes. My plans require it. I have formed a new cabinet, which will meet to-night at eight. I shall expect you to be present.”
The two old men rose. Suddenly, a kindly smile broke through the austereness of the prelate's countenance, and he thrust out his hand; the old soldier met it.
“Providence always watches over the innocent,” said the prelate, “else we would have been still at war. Good morning.”
The Marshal returned home, thoughtful and taciturn. What would be the end?
Ten minutes after the Marshal's departure, von Wallenstein and Mollendorf entered the prelate's breakfast room.
“Good morning, Messieurs,” said the churchman, the expression on his face losing its softness, and the glint of triumph stealing into his keen eyes. “I am acting on behalf of his Majesty this morning,” presenting a document to each. “Observe them carefully.” He turned and left the room. The archbishop had not only eaten a breakfast, he had devoured a cabinet.