“I will have men like that, Patkul.”
“Meanwhile it is useful to tolerate the Elector, sire.”
“And choke myself with his French sauces, and grimace with him over his compliments.”
“Well,” said Patkul gravely, “I think your Majesties have some tastes in common; you have been drunk together for three days on end, and that should have promoted some fellow-feeling.”
The Czar gave no answer and Prince Mentchikoff entered the room; he was dressed magnificently, and in tolerable imitation of the Saxon nobility; the peasant had acquired Western polish more easily than the Czar.
Peter greeted him affectionately, taking his face between his hands and kissing him; it was the first time he had seen him that day for Mentchikoff had been sleeping off the effects of last night’s orgy.
Patkul left the two Russians together, and hastened after Augustus who was already seated at table with several of his ministers and officers.
“You wish yourself back at Dresden, no?” he greeted the Livonian pleasantly.
“Sire,” replied Patkul, “I should not care to be back at Dresden thinking that this meeting had been fruitless.”
“You are right,” said Augustus, gravely, “and the sooner we finish this treaty the sooner we can return,” and his eyes shone, as he thought of his Aurora.