The commandant arrived when the two cold corpses were already on the bloody ground--the third was dying.
"Countess," said he, "look how many lives your fancies of escape cost!"
She answered nothing, but, jumping from her horse, came to the dead Zaklika. She put her pale lips on his forehead, covered with blood. The dead man's hand was lying on his breast, as though it would defend the King's promise of marriage to Cosel that had been entrusted to him. She took it with her.
She was led back to the castle, where she spent long days sitting and reading the Bible. Zaklika was buried at her expense.
"Nobody would care about my funeral," she said to herself. "Now I am alone in the world. My children do not know me."
* * * * *
In 1733 Augustus died, and the commandant of Stolpen came personally to announce to her the news.
For a long time she stood speechless; then she wrung her hands, and, throwing herself on the floor, began to cry.
Imprisonment, cruelty, wrongs, oblivion, could not take from her womanly heart the love which she had for him. From that moment he was again for her the dear Augustus.
Five days later there came an official from Dresden, sent by the Kurfürst, who was then Augustus III., King of Poland. He asked to be announced to the Countess.