'You told me, you would wait for me.'
'Someone betrayed the secret of my arrival; they called me; I was obliged to obey.'
'Who did that?'
'Watzdorf.'
Sulkowski seemed to be trying to remember the name.
The five people gathered in that room made an interesting group. Frederick alone was really sorrowful. Accustomed to respect and love his father, overwhelmed by grief and the fear of the burden that now fell on his shoulders, Frederick's face was very much changed. Usually serene and quiet, it was now twisted with grief which he could not conceal. Josepha's sorrow was more simulated than true; she never forgot for a moment her dignity and etiquette. Sulkowski was thoughtful and gloomy, as a man who, coming into power, calculates how to begin. His great self-esteem never left him even in the presence of the lady, to whom his respect was due.
Padre Guarini bent his head, closed his eyes, and twitched his face with an expression well assumed for the moment. Brühl while not forgetting that he should appear to be overwhelmed by sorrow, could not abstain from glancing from time to time at those present, especially at Sulkowski. He seemed to see an adversary.
While the Princess tried to comfort her husband, Sulkowski mustered up courage and coming nearer proposed that he should call the dignitaries for a council and announce to the capital and the country, by ordering the bells to be rung, that Augustus II was dead.
Josepha looked at the intruding adviser with some aversion, whispered something to her husband, and majestically directed her steps towards the same door through which she had entered a short time before, Guarini following her.
Those who remained were silent for a time. Brühl waited for orders which the new King did not dare to give; Sulkowski gave Brühl to understand that he had better leave them.