He had attained, in a few years, a glory which is seldom the reward of a long and splendid career.
“Are you not now satisfied, sire?” asked Count Piper, with a real curiosity.
Karl smiled; he was in a good humor, for he had made an end of the Polish intrigues and was on the eve of giving a new King to Poland; he gave little confidence to his minister, but continued to employ him as one useful in those matters so distasteful to his own spirit, now entirely absorbed in war.
“You think to get me back to Stockholm, Count?” he asked.
Count Piper smiled in his turn; he knew too well the iron obstinacy with which he had to deal to attempt to persuade Karl to any design.
“Sire,” he counter-questioned, “on whom now do you intend to make war?”
Karl lifted his cold blue eyes.
“There is always the Czar.”
“But he has withdrawn himself, sire. I believe he cares no more about the war, despite the appeals of the Elector. He is absorbed in building his new city.”
“I will topple over the foundations of his city,” replied the stern young King. “Piper, have you ever known me alter my mind? I told you some while since that I had a mind to dethrone the Czar.”