“Picking oakum?”
“No; I hear he has often asked for it as a favor. But I had given stringent orders to leave him all alone and without any occupation whatever. That is the best way to silence and punish such political criminals and demagogues.”
“I would like to see this man Wenzel. We shall, perhaps, set him at liberty again,” said Thugut. “Will you order him to be brought here quietly, and without any unnecessary eclat?”
“I shall send him to you, and that shall be my last official business before being taken sick.”
“Be it so, my dear count. Go to bed at once; it is high time.”
They smilingly shook hands, and looked at each other long and significantly.
“It will be a splendid patriotic festival to-morrow,” said Thugut.
“A very patriotic festival, and the inauguration of the banner particularly will be a glorious affair!” exclaimed Count Saurau.
“What a pity that my sickness should prevent me from attending it!”
He saluted the prime minister once more and withdrew. When the door had closed behind him the smile disappeared from Thugut’s features, and a gloomy cloud settled on his brow. Folding his arms on his back, and absorbed in deep thought, he commenced slowly pacing the room. “The interview with the empress must be prevented at all events,” he muttered, after a long pause, “even if all diplomatic relations with France have to be broken off for that purpose. Besides, I must have those papers which he wanted to deliver to the empress; my repose, my safety depends upon it. Oh, I know very well what sort of papers they are with which they are threatening me. They are the letters I had written in cipher to Burton, the English emissary, whom the French Directory a month ago caused to be arrested as a spy and demagogue at Paris, and whose papers were seized at the same time. Those letters, of course, would endanger my position, for there is a receipt among them for a hundred thousand guineas paid to me. What a fool I was to write that receipt! I must get it again, and I am determined to have it!”