The King cleared his throat significantly.
'He is a useful man, but has many drawbacks,' continued Sulkowski. 'I am afraid of him. He is mixed up with everything, he takes hold of everything--he squanders the money--is fond of luxury--'
'Oh! Oh! Oh!' muttered the King, shaking his head.
'It is true, your Majesty.'
Sulkowski became silent and looked sad. The King pitied him.
'Sulkowski,' he said, 'don't be afraid, there is plenty of room for both of you, and you will always stand first with me.'
After these words, which were quite an effort for the silent Augustus III, Sulkowski kissed his hand. The King embraced him.
'You are my true friend, but I need Brühl.'
This time Sulkowski did not press the matter further, but made up his mind to pursue the same subject on some future occasion, and allow it to act slowly on the King; he noticed however, that Augustus III was growing accustomed to Brühl, and of this he was afraid.
The King smoked his pipe contentedly, sitting up straight in his chair, blinking his eyes and thinking, as he was wont to do when at peace with all the world. There was a soft rap at the door. It announced that some privileged person, one who was permitted to enter the King's room without being previously announced, was coming. It was Father Guarini. He entered quietly and smiling; the King greeted him with a friendly nod, and continued to smoke his pipe and blink his eyes. Sulkowski, silent, stood near him.