At the landing-place she turned, and speaking to the steward, said:
"Let Count Esterhazy know that in ten minutes I await him in the blue room." Having said thus much, she continued her way, and disappeared from the eyes of her staring household.
Her disappearance was the signal for the transformation of the candelabra into men.
"Did you hear her?" whispered one. "She has sent for the count."
"Never troubling herself whether he sleeps or wakes," said another.
"Poor man! He has been in bed for four hours."
"No wonder he goes to bed early," remarked a third. "It is the only place on earth where he has peace."
"Nevertheless he will be obedient and come; he dare not refuse." "Oh, no!" was the general response. "In ten minutes he will be here; or his amiable countess will treat us to a scene like some we have witnessed, wherein she flings handfuls of gold out of the windows, and gathers all the people in Vienna before the hotel to see the show. "
The servants were right; Count Esterhazy did not disobey his wife. He trembled when he received her message, called nervously for his valet to dress him, and at the end of the ten minutes was on his way to the blue-room.
The countess was there before him, looking like an angry queen about to condemn a recreant vassal to death. And Esterhazy, with the mien and gait of a culprit, carne into her presence with a bow that was almost a genuflection.
"You see, countess," said he, "with what haste I obey your commands. I feel so honored at the call, that—"