Augustus smiled at her; his handsome face was no longer troubled as he gazed at this brilliant, darling companion of his; his distresses that sat lightly enough on him anyhow were almost forgotten as he contemplated her courage and her gaiety.
“Tell me,” he answered gently.
There was something of challenge, almost of defiance in her beautiful eyes as she replied, but she spoke very sweetly.
“You must make peace with Karl.”
Augustus did not speak.
“Of course you will have to take his terms, but it seems to be his rôle to be generous,” continued the Countess. “And better be at his mercy than at that of the Poles, your own subjects.”
Augustus thought so too; it was not very pleasant to contemplate humbling himself before the boy King whom he had hoped to conquer so easily, but his pride was not very deep-seated, and he bore no rancor against anyone, not even against the man who had defeated him; if he could purchase ease and safety by submitting to Karl he was ready to do so without any bitterness, and, as Aurora suggested, it was easier to accept terms from a fellow-monarch than from his own subjects.
“You must open negotiations at once before you lose everything,” continued the Countess quickly.
“But he will not listen—why should he?” returned Augustus doubtfully.
“If the ambassador is well chosen he will listen.”