"What a dreadful place!" she repeated. "It seems as if I could--can hear the moans of those who have been tortured here."

"We cannot be tender towards every one," said Augustus, indifferently. "But how is it you have such gloomy thoughts? Let us leave the castle and go into the park. I have ordered them to have lunch ready. Soon they will drive up some game, and we shall be able to admire your skill in shooting them."

In the park, under a magnificent Turkish tent, they found lunch all ready prepared for them. The sun was scorching, the heat was overpowering, so that none of the company were very animated. Even the witty Kyan sat silent in front of his full glass. Augustus did not like silence, so he ordered the servants to serve quickly, and then fetch the rifles.

Luncheon ended, all went into the park. Cosel followed the King, but she felt very sad, for Mlawa's words, foretelling the dreadful fate that awaited her, still rang in her ears, though at present no signs of such a fate were visible. Augustus, on the contrary, was merry.

Towards evening, having killed a few deer and boars, Augustus mounted his horse. Cosel rode beside him. As they passed the house where she met Mlawa, Cosel searched for her with her eyes, but she was not there. A little further on they saw her standing leaning on her stick, as though she were waiting to see the King. She glanced at Cosel and smiled, as though recognizing an old acquaintance. Augustus turned from the sight of her in disgust.

CHAPTER XIII.

Prince Fürstenburg and Count Flemming had made a compact to get rid of Countess Cosel. She ordered them, as if she had been a Queen, she treated them proudly, and she squandered money like a child who is ignorant of its value. The influence she had acquired over the King alarmed every one. None of the King's favourites had had such power, such faith in herself, and none of them had been able to keep the fickle Augustus so long at her side. The whole court longed for her downfall; the number of her enemies increased daily. But the Countess heeded them not, and when the faithful Zaklika told her things that he had overheard, she only laughed contemptuously. Slowly yet surely the forces of her enemies were gathering together against her, but as yet they did not venture to declare open war. They were waiting for certain symptoms that would lead them to believe that the King was tired of her, and would indicate that the fight would be crowned with victory.

On the one side were adroit and clever courtiers, drilled from childhood in the art of intriguing, and aided in their enterprise by corrupt and cunning women; on the other side was Countess Cosel, proud, intelligent, trusting in her beauty, in her imaginary title of wife, in the knot that had been made fast by having her children acknowledged, and a few friends without influence, and a few double-faced people, who were eager to be on the victorious side, and only waiting to see which side had the greatest power. The prospect was that the war would be long, but Cosel's adversaries were patient, and, knowing the disposition of the King, felt confident of an ultimate victory.

They knew that sooner or later Cosel must weary the King by her fancies and by her insatiable desire for luxury as well as by her pride and impetuosity. Until the present these had amused the King, but at any moment the scale might turn.

Every one of importance at Court was against Cosel, profiting by the King's absence in Flanders, whither he had gone to fight against France, in the hope that by some deed of daring he might brighten his fame, so clouded by the Swedish defeat. Fürstenberg and Flemming wished to shake the King's love by writing to him about the Countess's extravagant luxuries. So black did they succeed in painting her, that the King gave orders that she should not be furnished with too much money. Fürstenberg seized on this order to refuse Cosel money several times when she required it, for which insult the Countess threatened to give him a slap in the face should she come across him.