Clara, who had been an enemy of Maximilian since the affair of the pea water, had her spies about the group, and she was always hoping to prove to Ernest Augustus that their conspiracy was not merely the mischievous but childish game he thought it. Ernest Augustus was inclined to laugh at his son’s antics; he was well aware of Clara’s fury over the pea water, and as for the Duchess Sophia, her one weakness was for her sons – other than George Lewis – and she too was apt to be lenient.
This was infuriating for Clara, who saw herself not only baulked of her revenge on mischievous Max, but robbed of the man whom she was now convinced was the only one to satisfy her. Above all she hated Sophia Dorothea and she determined to destroy her; and it occurred to her that if she could prove Maximilian to be plotting against his father and elder brother, she might at the same time involve Sophia Dorothea.
One evening when Ernest Augustus was playing cards, with Clara beside him, he asked for his snuff box, and as it was the duty of Count Mölcke to carry this, the young man immediately produced it. Ernest Augustus was about to take a pinch of snuff when Clara laid a hand on his arm; for a few seconds Ernest Augustus looked into her terrified eyes.
In view of her concern he could not but be warned; holding the snuff between his fingers he did not immediately put it to his nose. He said: ‘Mölcke, take my hand, will you.’
The Count took the cards and Ernest Augustus rose and went into an ante-room, Clara following him. In the ante-room he turned to her and said: ‘What does it mean?’
She did not answer him but called to the spaniel who was lying there.
‘Give the snuff to him and you will see,’ she said.
Ernest Augustus did so. ‘You’re not suggesting …’
‘If you won’t look after yourself, I must do it for you. Let me tell you, I have friends everywhere in the place … everywhere. It helps me to uncover plots and intrigues … in high places … and low.’
‘Clara, this is …’
She pointed to the dog who had already begun to foam at the mouth. Ernest Augustus stared in horror as it fell to its side, its legs twitching.
As Ernest Augustus looked on in horror, the dog’s movements ceased.
‘It’s dead, poor creature,’ said Clara. ‘Well, at least he has taught you to listen to me.’
“But it’s … monstrous!’
‘It’s black treachery,’ declared Clara. ‘Mölcke should be arrested before he escapes.’
‘He looked so innocent when he gave me the box!’
‘What use would he be to his friends if he betrayed his black guilt? Have him arrested at once. Then you will learn that you have been too confiding.’
Ernest Augustus called in the guard.
‘Wait at the foot of the staircase,’ he said, ‘and when Count Mölcke appears, arrest him on a charge of treason.’
Then Ernest Augustus went back to the card table. ‘Someone is waiting outside to see you, Count,’ he said.
The Count rose and walked out to the guard.
How easy it was to build up a case against a group of careless young conspirators! There were servants who had overheard their rash words. It was true enough that Maximilian was jealous of his brother; he was very friendly with his cousin the young Duke of Wolfenbüttel; and the manner in which the house of Wolfenbüttel had been treated at the time of the marriage of Sophia Dorothea and George Lewis was certain to have made bad blood. The Duchess Sophia was very anxious; she disliked her eldest son and loved the younger ones; she would have been delighted to have been able to share the inheritance instead of allowing it all to go to George Lewis.
In his heart Ernest Augustus did not believe for a moment that his son would be concerned in a plot to poison him; nor did he think the lighthearted Count Mölcke capable of such an action. But it was true that there was disaffection in the family and that was something he had tolerated long enough. Knowing Clara, an idea of how the snuff came to be poisoned entered his mind. Maximilian had insulted her and Clara was never one to forgive insults. However, he would not explore that possibility and it had to be made known that such conduct could not be tolerated.
There had to be a scapegoat and Mölcke being the obvious one, he was sentenced to death. Maximilian was banished from Hanover; and as soon as he had gone Ernest Augustus realized the folly of this action, for he immediately went to Wolfenbüttel where he was received with the utmost hospitality.
Clara was delighted with Maximilian’s banishment but to punish him was not as important as to destroy Sophia Dorothea.
When Mölcke had been questioned he had been urged to implicate the Princess but this he refused to do.
It simply was not true, he said, that the Princess had been present when they had talked of the injustice to the younger sons of Hanover. He would be lying if he said she were.
Clara was not satisfied with this. She sent one of the guards to the imprisoned man to tell him that there was one way of saving his life. He only had to implicate Sophia Dorothea.
This Mölcke steadfastly refused to do; and Clara was further enraged.
Königsmarck visited his friend Count Mölcke in his prison.
‘How could you have been so foolish as to become involved?’ he asked.
‘It was to amuse Maximilian. We were not serious any of us … at least not serious in our talk of overthrowing George Lewis. It was all so much talk. I had no idea how the poisoned snuff came to be in the box. I was as surprised as anyone.’
‘It was put there to incriminate you, of course.’
‘You will have to see that the Princess is protected.’
‘The Princess! What has the Princess to do with this?’
‘She is innocent of any plot against the Duke … but I am innocent of attempting to poison him, yet here I am … condemned as guilty. Someone wants to ruin her. I was told that if I would swear she was guilty of treason and in the plot to murder Ernest Augustus I could save my life.’
‘Good God!’ cried Königsmarck. ‘She is in danger then.’
‘No,’ said Mölcke, ‘I refused.’
‘My good friend,’ cried Königsmarck. ‘The Princess has a formidable enemy in Hanover.’
Eléonore von Knesebeck had brought him in. He embraced Sophia Dorothea with fervour.
She was in danger, he told her. Mölcke had been offered his life to betray her.
‘Betray me?’ cried Sophia Dorothea. ‘For what?’
‘My precious Princess, my darling! You are in danger. We cannot go on like this.’
‘I have few friends in Hanover,’ said Sophia Dorothea. ‘But I have many enemies.’
They embraced. Each knew who was the vindictive enemy. Königsmarck cursed his weak folly, his infidelity, his indulgence which had led him to become, though briefly, the lover of the evil Clara. And Sophia Dorothea wept for it.
Sophia Dorothea went to her husband’s apartments – an intrusion which was as distasteful to her as it was irritating to him.
‘I must speak to you,’ she said.
He grunted and not rising from his chair sat back and yawned.
How she hated him. He seemed more crude than ever since she was learning to know Königsmarck so well.
‘Someone is trying to implicate me in this affair of the snuff box.’
He did not speak.
‘Don’t you see how important it is?’
He shrugged his shoulders.
‘You will stand by and see your wife so treated? You know who is behind this, don’t you? It is the Platen woman. She offered Mölcke his life if he would admit that I was one of the conspirators, that I helped to plan your father’s death. Can’t you say anything?’
‘What is there to say? You have said it.’