He fell into deep thought, and sighed. The task was difficult. Even had he been less familiar with the life of the court and the fate of favourites, he could easily guess that there were plenty of spies round Nebigan and probably also in the castle.
Frohlich was a well-known person, but happily the frequent fancy-dress balls, given during the reign of Augustus the Strong, accustomed most people to the art of disguising themselves. Frohlich closeted himself in his room and without losing time commenced to work at his transformation.
It was early in February, the river Elbe was covered with strong ice, and it seemed to Frohlich that access to Nebigan was easiest and safest from the river. It was too late to travel on foot, so he hired a sledge at Briesnitz, and having promised the driver high pay, was driven swiftly to an inn in the village of Nebigan. Telling the driver to wait, he went out through, another door and walked towards the river.
He felt that only by some good luck could he fulfil his dangerous mission. On arriving at the castle he hesitated, then he entered the courtyard and ran as fast as he could to the hall. It was dark and no one was about. Sulkowski never kept many servants and now he had still less. The stairs were dark, and only on ascending them did he hear voices. In the anteroom the servants were quarrelling over their game of cards.
At the sight of a strangely dressed man, coming at such an unusual hour, they sprang to their feet, asking him what he wanted.
Frohlich said that he must see the Count at once. The butler first searched his pockets, fearing that he might carry arms, or might have come with some evil design, then went to the Count to announce the stranger.
There was some stir in the castle: the wig, the clothes and the handkerchief with which his face was covered did not permit them to recognise Frohlich. They showed him into a drawing-room, just lighted for the purpose. Sulkowski was pale but quiet and as proud as if he were still prime minister. The visitor requested that the servant might be dismissed. The request aroused some suspicion and alarm, but the Count did not betray his feelings. As soon as they were alone, Frohlich uncovered his face.
'Two hours ago,' he said, 'I was called to the King; I shall repeat his own words: "To-day, secretly, go to Nebigan--tell him to escape at once to Poland."'
Sulkowski listened indifferently.
'The King told you this?' he asked.