Wilhelmine made no response, but rang the bell, and told the servant who answered her call, to inform the porter that no soirée would take place that evening, and that he was to tell all visitors that mourning for the sudden death of Countess Ingenheim would compel her to forego the pleasure of seeing them for that evening and the following week.
“I beg you to leave me now, my friend,” said Wilhelmine, beginning to divest herself of the sparkling jewels that encircled her neck and arms. “I must hasten to lay aside these worldly garments, in order that the king may find me attired in sable robes when he arrives.”
“How! Do you believe the king will visit you at a time when his wife of the left hand has but just breathed her last?”
“I feel assured that he will. His majesty knows how deep an interest I take in all that concerns him. He knows where to look for sympathy; he knows that I laugh with him when he is glad, and weep with him when he is sad. To whom should he flee in his hour of grief but to me?”
“You are right,” said Rietz, smiling, “to whom should he flee, in his hour of grief, but to his first sultana? I am going, and I truly promise you that if his majesty, in the depth of his grief, should chance to be forgetful of this haven of rest, I will suggest it to our dear, chastened king.”
“Do so, my friend, and hasten to his majesty’s side, or my enemies will forestall you, and perhaps console the king in a different manner.”
“I am going, sultana. But these shutters—shall I order them to be closed?”
“And why, pray? I am not afraid of a few stones, and if they should be showered upon us too plentifully, we can retire to one of the back rooms and observe the bombardment in perfect security. When did you say it was to begin?”
“As soon as it has grown dark; the deeds of these pious fathers shun the light of day. The calendar says moonlight until ten o’clock; it is therefore probable that the sovereign people, as the rabble of Paris now calls itself, will not honor you with a call until that hour. It would be well to notify the police of the flattering attentions awaiting you, and to solicit a guard for the protection of your palace.”
“I will take good care not to do so,” rejoined Wilhelmine, smiling. “Let the sovereign people amuse themselves by breaking my windows if they choose. The louder they howl and call me poisoner the better, for the king will hear them and he will pity me.”