He became thoughtful and ended with:
'Listen Brühl, it is Ribera--'
'Yes, your Majesty, it is Ribera,' affirmed the minister.
[CHAPTER XVIII]
The carnival promised to be brilliant that year. In Saxony everything was satisfactory; the noblemen, who dared murmur, were sent to Pleissenburg; in Poland quiet was assured by the last Sobieski. Faustina always sang marvellously, and there was plenty of game in the forests round Hubertsburg. Day after day, arranged in advance, passed very pleasantly.
The blessed peacefulness was disturbed by the news that Sulkowski was returning; it hastened the Queen's attack and sealed his sentence. It was not expected that the favourite would be admitted to see the King.
Henniche and his accomplices gave orders that all roads were to be watched; the guards were at the gates, private detectives watched Sulkowski's palace.
The general-minister's carriage came. His wife had intended to go towards Prague and meet him, but they were afraid of that, and the Countess Kolowrath told her that the Queen desired her to be in readiness in case she was called to the castle, and that she must not leave Dresden. The Countess was obliged to obey.
On the first of February, 1738, the Count Sulkowski arrived at Pirma, where he stopped to feed and water the horses before proceeding to Dresden. In the inn a courier sent on ahead prepared everything for the minister's reception. Nobody yet could even suspect his downfall. The whole borough, the officials, burgomasters, in gala uniforms, were awaiting, notwithstanding the intense cold, the man whom they thought to be almighty and before whom all trembled.
The courier announced the arrival of his Excellency for four o'clock; but as that day there was a heavy fall of snow, he did not arrive at the appointed hour. While all eyes were looking down the road in the direction of Prague, a cavalier wrapped in a mantle came from the direction of Dresden and stopped his tired horse before the inn. The owner of the inn called 'The Crown,' Jonas Hender, a very resolute man, having perceived the stranger, who at any other time would have been very welcome, rushed to tell him that there was no room for him.