To return to the church door. As Peter Saffran stood stock-still, gazing after the vanishing figure of his former betrothed, he felt some one tap him on the shoulder; turning round, he saw standing behind him Felix Kaulmann. Peter's face went deadly white, partly with fear, more from inward rage. Felix, however, laughed carelessly, with the indifference of a great man, to what was, in his opinion, only a good joke.

"Good-day, fellow. Mind you come to the dinner," he said, as he followed the prince into the church.

Peter Saffran remained gaping at the n.o.ble gentlemen as they got out of their carriages, and when the crowd began to move into the church he followed in the stream. He made his way into the darkest corner, before the shrine of a saint, knelt down, with both his hands laid upon the wall and his head upon his folded arms, and there he made a vow--an awful, terrible vow. Those who saw him in his kneeling att.i.tude, with bent head, imagined he had been struck at last by grace, and was repenting of his sins. When he had finished his prayer, or his curse, he got up quickly, and, without waiting for the end of the splendid ceremonial, hastened out of the church, casting a wild look behind him as he went, for he imagined that the saint in the shrine was pointing her finger at him and calling out, "Take him prisoner! He is a murderer!"

The church service being over, the distinguished company drove to the company's colony, and went over the works. They drove under triumphal arches which were erected in the streets, and were received by a deputation of workmen. The best orator made a speech, which would have been very eloquent only he stuck fast in the middle. The young girl who recited some verses was more happy in her delivery, and her youngest sister presented a bouquet to Eveline, who kissed the child.

"Ah! you are little Marie. Don't you know me?"

The child, however, was too frightened at this beautiful lady to make her an answer.

The guests visited the buildings under the guidance of Herr Raune, who spared them nothing--the factory, the machinery, the iron-works. They were terribly tired of it all, and glad to get into the large rooms which had been temporarily arranged as the banqueting-hall. Here they were received by two bands playing Rakoczy's "March." To the banquet came a crowd of guests alike invited and uninvited--gentlemen, peasants, clergymen, and Bohemians. Eveline, however, looked in vain for her former master. Ivan was not among the guests. He had not even sent an excuse. What an uncouth man! and yet, perhaps, he had reason.

If you drink beforehand to the skin of the bear, the bear has every right to decline being present at the feast. Peter Saffran, however, came; he was treated as the chief guest, and given the first place at the workman's table. This struck even his obtuse senses. Looking round he saw he was the only representative of the Bondathal mine.

The banquet lasted far on into the evening. Gentlemen and workmen were exceedingly merry. Towards the close of the feast Felix sent for Peter. He presented him to the prince.

"Here is the brave miner of whom I have told your excellency."

Saffran felt the blood rush to his face.

"Well, my good friend," continued Felix, "how has the world treated you since I last saw you? Are you still afraid of 'the doctor'?

There's a plaster for you; it will heal any remains of your former injuries." So saying, he took out of his pocket-book a note for a hundred gulden and put it into Peter's hand. "No," he added, "don't thank me, but thank the kind lady there, who remembered you."

He pointed to Eveline, and Peter kissed her hand, or, rather, her beautiful mauve glove.

What a transformation in the man-eater! He had grown obedient and gentle.

"That good lady," continued Felix, "wishes you well. At her request his excellency, Prince Theobald, has given you the post of overseer in the new company's colony, at the yearly salary of a thousand gulden.

What do you say to that?"

What could he say? He kissed the hand of his excellency.

Kaulmann filled a large goblet to the brim with foaming champagne and handed it to Peter.

"Toss that off," he said. "But first drink to the long life of his excellency, our generous prince."

"And to the health of this dear lady," added the prince, gallantly, at which the trumpets sounded shrilly, and Peter Saffran, the prince, the banker, and Eveline drank to one another.

This scene delighted the working-men. Here was no pride, the gentlemen clinking gla.s.ses with the common miner. This was the right spirit.

Peter Saffran, meantime, was wondering within himself which of the two gentlemen was Eveline's husband, and in what relation did the other stand to her? He emptied his gla.s.s and put it down again, but it did not occur to him to put the question to either of the three, therefore it remained unanswered.

The festival closed with a splendid display of fireworks. The sparks from the Catherine wheels fell in a shower of molten gold into Ivan's mine.

The following morning Saffran came to Behrend and informed him that he had taken service with the company.

"You also?" said Ivan, bitterly. "Well, go!"

Peter was paler than ever. He had expected reproaches for his treachery, but as none came he suddenly burst out with what had been for some time in his mind.

"Why did you _that time_ call your friend a doctor?"

"Because he is one. He is a doctor of law."

Saffran raised his finger in a threatening manner. "Nevertheless, it was very wrong of you to call him _that time_ a doctor." And then he turned on his heel and went his way.

Ivan's strength of mind was more and more put to the proof. Each day brought fresh defections. His best men left him to go over to his enemy, who, like some horrid monster, raised large furnaces which crushed the very life out of his smaller chimneys. His business friends fell away from him. They looked upon him as an obstinate fool, carrying on such an unequal fight; but the darker the outlook the stronger grew his determination to see the affair to the bitter end. He would not leave his old home, his own little territory; he would carry on the unequal, perhaps the fruitless, task of opposing his apparently triumphant adversary.

In the depth of his misfortune one true, reliable friend remained to him, and saved him from utter despair. This friend was the multiplication-table. Before he began to calculate he put these questions to himself, as if he were some one else:

"Is this colony a company of commercial men? No, a company of speculators. A joint-stock company? No, it is a game of chance. Is it a factory? No, a tower of Babel." Then he went on to consider this point. "Two and two make four, and, turn it how you like, it makes nothing _but_ four; and if all the kings and emperors in Europe, with decrees and ukases, were to tell their individual subjects that two and two make five, and if the pope fulminated a bull to enjoin on all true believers that two and two make five, and if even the best financial authority was to declare that we should count two and two as five, all these--kings, emperors, popes, and accountants--would not alter the fact that two and two make four. These generous shareholders of the Bondavara Company are working against a well-known fact. The new company builds, creates, invents, contracts, buys, and sells without taking any heed of the primary rule of arithmetic; therefore it is clear that the company is not working for the future, but merely for present gain. Therefore, I will live down this swindle."

At the end of the year the company gave their shareholders a surprise.

The Bondavara shares began to fluctuate between thirty-five and forty florins exchange, although the date of the payment of second instalments of capital was at hand. At such times all the early bonds are handed in. Csanta thought this would be a good time for him to bring in his shares and to get his silver back. He was contemplating a visit to the bank when he received a private note from Spitzhase, putting him on his guard not to fall into such a mistake as to sell.

"This very day the board of directors had met, and a resolution had been carried unanimously that at the next general meeting the shareholders should be surprised by getting a bonus of twenty per cent., upon which the shares would at once rise higher. This was a profound secret, but he could not allow his good friend to remain in ignorance."

And at the next general meeting the commercial world heard the same story. The first two months of the Bondavara Coal Company had been such a signal success that, besides the usual rate of interest, the directors were enabled to offer upon each share a bonus of six florins, which amounted (with the usual rate) to thirty-five per cent., an unheard-of profit in two months.

When Ivan read this in the newspaper he burst into a loud laugh. He knew, no one better, what amount of profit the factory had made, but it is easy to manipulate accounts so that the ledger presents these remarkable results. What do the unbusiness-like, credulous shareholders understand of such matters? The board of directors know very well how matters really stand; but they have their own ends to serve. The outside world may bleed; what is that to them? There is no court-martial in the stock-exchange, and no justice for the injured.

Csanta did not sell his shares. He paid his second instalment in silver pieces, rejoiced over the bonus, and blessed Spitzhase for preventing him from selling his bonds at thirty-five. They had now risen to forty florins, and continued to rise.

Ivan watched this diabolical swindle with calmness. He said to himself:

"How long will the game last?"

CHAPTER XXI

RESPECT FOR HALINA CLOTH

It was a singular coincidence that in the same moment that Ivan said to himself, "How long will this game last?" Prince Waldemar, meeting Felix Kaulmann, beaming with triumph, at the exchange, put to him the question, "How long, do you think, will this comedy last?"

"The third act is still wanting," replied the banker.

"Yes, the third instalment. Then I shall hoist you on your own petard."

"We will see about that."

The bears could not imagine what Kaulmann had in his head. That he had a plan was certain; what it was no one knew but the Abbe Samuel and Prince Theobald.

The third act was not the instalment; it was the Bondavara Railway.

This question bristled with difficulties. The government was irritated against Hungary, and in their irritation would not listen to any proposals as to railways and the like. Even the country party was sulky. Let the country go to the devil; what did they care? And no doubt they had justification for their righteous indignation. Every Hungarian who wore "broadcloth" was against them. The body of officials, the middle cla.s.s, the intelligence of the country, preferred to lay down place and to give up government patronage sooner than submit to the chimeras which the cabinet at Vienna indulged in by way of government. Good! So far as officials went, men were easily got to fill the places the others had resigned, for when a good table is spread, needless to say, guests are not hard to find. The hired troop pocketed their salary, took the oath, stuffed their pockets, but did nothing to promote the government measures. Between the men who had resigned and the newly appointed officials there was only this difference: that one set openly declared they would do nothing; the others pretended to do something, but found it impossible to accomplish anything. They tried to shove, but the cart would not move an inch. From those who wore cloth among the middle cla.s.ses the government had to expect nothing, that was evident. Formerly those who wore silk and satin acted as a sort of counterpoise--the high and mighty, and the magnates, the lawyers, and the priests--but now all these held aloof. The primate remonstrated, the bishops advised the n.o.bility, the higher cla.s.ses collected in Pesth and talked treason.