Several years had passed; the enthusiasm of both of them had cooled. But in the woman there remained attachment, tenderness, gratitude; in the King a feeling of weariness predominated. Instead of pitying her sadness, he wished to escape from it as quickly as possible; her tears made him impatient, her grief bored him.
Cosel could no longer appear gay and cheerful as formerly, in the happy days when she used to ride out with the King to hunt the deer, or took her part in shooting at a target.
Her charms had not changed, but daily intercourse with her had made them appear common in the King's eyes. Grief had not dimmed her beauty; her eye had not lost its brilliancy; but neither her charming looks, nor her smiles, could now bring the King to her feet. Her power over Augustus was ended, the beloved woman had become common, because she no longer possessed for him the charm of novelty.
Never before, when the King departed, had the Countess felt as lonely as she did now. The palace, until then crowded, was suddenly deserted. Cosel had no one to be with her.
During the day, the gossiping Baroness Glasenapp would rush in, or the stern Baron Haxthausen, her only friend, would dine with her. This was all the company she had.
In the whole crowd, her most faithful friend was Raymond Zaklika, whose hand often trembled with the desire to attack some arrogant man who had offended the Countess. The slightest sign from her would have been sufficient for him, and the one whom he touched would have been a dead man.
Looking towards him at critical moments, Cosel had sometimes noticed him in such a state of excitement that she had been obliged to calm him.
Being a servant, Zaklika had no opportunity of expressing his feeling, but the Countess understood him perfectly, and knew that she could depend on his loyalty. Had she bidden him kill Flemming, he would have done so instantly, and would then have gone without a groan to the scaffold. In his eyes, she was always the same beautiful star that he had seen shining in bygone days among the linden trees at Laubegast. To him she even appeared more beautiful, and his whole happiness lay in the privilege of seeing her several times a day.
But whilst at Dresden all was sad and quiet, the King, in the best of spirits, and full of hope, was hastening to Warsaw. Flemming was with him, the Countess Przebendowska preceded him. It was an open secret that they wished to find a new lady for the King at Warsaw. They did not wish her to be as beautiful as Cosel, for beauty such as hers threatened a long attachment; neither must she be witty, for the King was content with giddiness, and she must not possess a heart, for it was only at the commencement that Augustus played a sentimental part.
Youth, great daring, coquetry, a good name, and good breeding were sufficient, and would counterbalance Cosel.