The Padre's first intention was to remain to the end of the interview, but later on it occurred to his mind, that it was his duty to communicate the incident to the Queen in order that some precautions might be taken at once. In consequence, having listened to Sulkowski's narration for about an hour, he was obliged to leave the room. Sulkowski spoke merrily and quickly as though in a fever. Although he did not, even by the slightest allusion, let it be known that he knew what was going to happen to him, one could guess by his agitation and daring that he was playing his last card. The King glanced round as if he were afraid and grew more and more stiff: one moment his face grew brighter, the next it became cold.
As long as Father Guarini was in the room, the Count confined his conversation to his travels; when Guarini left the room he changed both the tone and subject.
'Your Majesty,' he said, 'I was longing to see my liege: I had a sad presentiment, although thank God, it is not realised, and your Majesty's heart is the best guarantee that it could not be realised. I have served my lord since childhood, I sacrificed my life to him, and I am ready to sacrifice the rest of my days; I was able to gain my lord's favour and confidence, my conscience does not reproach me with anything; I am not afraid of the plots of my enemies, even if I had any, and I do not believe I have them, for I have done no harm to anybody.'
The King listened with forced dignity, which did not promise well.
Sulkowski asked to be permitted once more to kiss the King's hand; Augustus gave it to him muttering, changing uneasily from one foot to the other, but not saying one intelligible word. The Count's enthusiasm increased and he spoke with growing fever.
'Sire, my lord, I believe in your heart as I believe in God. Only may the intriguers not take it from me by their calumnies!'
'Oh! Oh!' interrupted Augustus, 'there are no intrigues here.'
'Into what court are they not able to penetrate? What dress must they assume?' said Sulkowski laughing. 'Sire, I am a soldier and I speak straight. There are bad people and those who are the sweetest, the most humble, the most useful, they are the most dangerous. Sire, and my lord, I do not wish to name the others--but Brühl must be dismissed, otherwise he will get all into his own power and deprive your Majesty of his best friends, in order that he may rule absolutely.'
Thus saying he looked at the King's face, which became crimson and then pale, his eyes assumed a wild expression, the result of suppressed anger. Sulkowski, knowing well that it was necessary to conquer the outburst in order to dominate the monarch, favoured peace above all things; the anger never lasted long. Several times the King had wished to break the chain of dependence, but every time he had shirked the effort necessary to effect it. The Count had seen him several times in that state of mind and became still bolder.
'Sire,' he said, following the King, who went to the window, 'your Majesty respects the memory of his great father; may he serve as an example! He never permitted anyone to domineer over him, neither the Queen, nor favourites, nor ministers, nor priests. He ruled supreme. Your Majesty has only to wish, to command, and those who murmur will become silent; the chain shall be broken. One must have courage to live and to rule, and for that one must break all chains.'