Evening was approaching, it was raining hard, the horses could hardly drag themselves along, when the steeples and lights of a small hamlet appeared through the grey curtain of rain. Brühl expected to find the King here, but at the posting station he was told that his Majesty was going to pass the night about twenty miles further on, and it was impossible to get horses. Brühl promised to buy the horses but nobody would accept his offer and he was forced to seek a lodging in the village.
His numerous attendants, for he had lately been made a Count, dispersed to find him decent accommodation. There was only one inn called 'Ye Old Horse,' which was occupied by a Polish nobleman and his retinue. The minister thought that at the sound of his name the inn would be immediately vacated in his favour, for the Polish nobles were very polite, outside their house of parliament, and Brühl was omnipotent and could reward the courtesy with the gift of some state property. Count Brühl's major-domo hastened to 'Ye Old Horse' where he found the numerous and lordly retinue of someone whom they called prince. Without asking the name of the nobleman he preferred his request, or, as he thought, command, that they should vacate it in favour of his Excellency the Count Brühl. The prince, on hearing the name made a grimace, pondered a while, and answered in very good German, even betraying the Saxon accent, that he would not give up the inn, but would share it with the minister.
In the meantime the sleet was beating so effectually against the windows of the Count's carriage that it found its way inside. The messenger returned with the answer and Brühl, not apprehending any inconvenience from meeting a stranger ordered them to drive to the inn.
He expected that someone would come out to meet him, but he was mistaken. It was Brühl's custom to double his civility when he was slighted, and he alighted from the carriage with a determination to put the proud nobleman to shame by his amiability. The butler threw open the door, and the minister hastened into a large room, in which there was a fire in the grate, and two lighted candles on the table. Looking round for the prince, he perceived, standing at the further end of the room, not in the least embarrassed at the meeting, only a little older, but still more proud than ever--Sulkowski.
The prince stood silently looking down on his adversary, without greeting him.
Brühl grew pale and wanted to withdraw, thinking that he had fallen into an ambush. His face changed so strangely, that Sulkowski could not help smiling.
Evidently recollecting Guarini and his Italian proverbs, he said:
'Si rincontrano gli uomini, e non le montagne.'
Brühl stood astounded
'I am sure you know the fable,' said Sulkowski, 'about a storm, during which a wolf found himself in a cavern with a lamb--it is something like that with us! During such bad weather it would not be right to refuse hospitality even to a foe.'