"Yes, and let no presuming hand ever touch a thread of it!" replied Kaunitz. "I say as much as I have said to you, Binder, because the greatest minds must sometimes find a vent for their conceptions, and I trust nobody on earth except you. Now you know what I mean by 'permanent treaties with the Porte,' and I hope you will not ask any more silly questions. You ignoramus! that have lived so long with Kaunitz and have not yet learned to know him!"
"Your highness is beyond the comprehension of ordinary men," said
Binder, with a good-humored smile.
"I believe so," replied Kaunitz, with truthful simplicity; while he carefully placed his paper, pens, lines, and penknife in the drawer wherein they belonged.
The door opened, and a servant announced his excellency Osman Pacha, ambassador of the Ottoman Porte.
"Very well," replied Kaunitz with a nod, "I will see him presently."
"You see," said he to Binder, as the door closed upon the servant, "we are about to begin in earnest with the Porte. I shall receive him in the drawing-room. Meanwhile, remain here, for I shall need you again."
He smiled kindly upon his friend, and left the room. Binder looked after him with tenderest admiration. "He is a very great man," said he to himself, "and he is right. But for him, Austria would fall to the rank of a second power. What if he does know it and boast of it? He is a truthful and candid man. Voild tout."
And he sat down to write to Van Swieten in Berlin to beware of saying any thing prejudicial to the interests of the Porte.
He had just concluded his letter when Kaunitz returned. His countenance was beaming with satisfaction and his lips were half parting with a smile. "Binder," said he, laying a roll of papers on the escritoire, "here are sugar-plums for the emperor. Can you guess what I have in these papers?"
"Not a declaration of war from Russia!" exclaimed Binder.