"Into trade?" Truyn repeated slowly, and interrogatively.

"What did he die of?" asked Pistasch.

"It does not say," replied Truyn re-reading the notice in the newspaper.

"Hm!--that looks suspicious," said Pistasch.

CHAPTER III.

The election is over. Pistasch has shaken hands with all the middle-cla.s.s land-owners, and has done wonders with that haughty condescension of his wherewith he was wont to charm the hearts of such people. Truyn has been enlightened by his political friends as to the state of Bohemian affairs, and Oswald has been cordially congratulated by every one. He is one of those universally popular men before whom even envy and malice lower their weapons. His career has been hitherto like the triumphal march of a young king--let him but appear, and lo!

an illumination, and flowers strewed before him.

After the election Truyn went to dine at the chief restaurant in Prague with some friends whom he had met for the first time for years;--Georges, Pistasch, and Oswald with the indifference of youth took their lunch at 'The Black Horse,' whither they went from the station. Then Georges departed to revive old a.s.sociations in various quarters of ancient Prague. Oswald's father had been wont to pa.s.s his winters in Vienna, but his younger, poorer brother had his winter quarters in the comparatively humble Moldavian town. Georges looked up the confectioner who had been his first creditor, wandered dreamily through the gray precincts of the public school where he had studied for two years, after his tutors could do nothing more for him, walked across the picturesque Carl's bridge to the Lesser-town, the h.o.a.ry old Lesser-town, the home of the aristocracy of Prague, cowering in pious veneration at the feet of the Kaiserburg, like a grey-haired child who still believes in fairy stories. There, in one of the angular, irregular squares, just opposite two tall narrow church windows, stood the small palace where Georges pa.s.sed his boyhood, and which his father finally sold to a wealthy vinegar manufacturer. He scarcely recognised it again. The old stucco ornamentation had been painted a staring red; and a dealer in hams and sausages had his shop in the lower story.

"_Tempera mutantur!_" muttered Georges.

In a s.p.a.cious room, tolerably cool, the shades all drawn down, the furniture consisting of dim misty mirrors in shabby gilt frames, of cupboards with bra.s.s hinges, and of green velvet chairs and sofas, Oswald lay back, in an arm-chair, laughing heartily at Pistasch's account of a late adventure.

Pistasch went to one of the three windows, and drawing the shade half up looked out into the street.

The front of 'The Black Horse' looks out on the _Graben_, the _Corso_ of Prague.

All whom cruel fate had compelled to remain in town during the intolerable heat of the season, were lounging about in the late afternoon upon the heated pavement of the square.

Students with the genuine High-German swagger, over-dressed misses, round-shouldered government clerks, a wretched poodle scratching at his muzzle, an officer with jingling sabre, hack drivers, dozing peacefully on their boxes while their horses, with forelegs wide apart and heads in their nose-bags, dreamed of the 'good old times' when they caracoled beneath the spurs of gay young cavalry officers,--those 'good old times' whose chief charm for hack horses as for mortals, may perhaps consist in the fact that they are irrevocably past.

The sultry heat beats down on all, debilitating, oppressive.

"How long have you known that Capriani," Oswald asked his light-hearted friend, after a pause.

"I really cannot tell you," was the reply, "he once did me a favour without knowing me, except by sight, and then--then he came to me one day with some trifling affairs that he desired I should arrange for him, and referred to the former kindness he had shown me."

"And ever since then you have been upon friendly terms with him?"

"Not quite all that," replied Pistasch, shrugging his shoulders, "but what would you have? He consults me about his horses--his ambition is to win at the Derby;--and I consult him about my investments, the purchase of stock, etc."

"And each overreaches the other?" said Oswald, smiling.

"Up to this time I have the advantage," affirmed Pistasch, "and I have a prospect too, of a sinecure as the President of the Grunwald-Leebach stock company."

"With which of course you will have nothing to do except to inspire the public with confidence, and rake in money," said Oswald.

"Incidentally," Pistasch rejoined calmly.

Oswald drummed upon the arms of his chair, sitting erect, and looking very grave.

"Take care, Pistasch; 'those who lie down with dogs, are sure to get up with fleas.'"

"You are a reactionary martinet," growled Pistasch. "Am I the first to a.s.sociate with speculators? Barenfeld, Calmonsky, Hermsdorf--are all men very different from myself, but you see their names at the head of all kinds of banks and stock companies."

"Unfortunately;" said Oswald, "that charlatan of a Capriani has infected you all--you all want to learn from that gentleman the secret of manufacturing gold. But you will learn nothing, and will inevitably all burn your fingers. I should think you might take warning from poor old Count Malzin."

"Oh, Malzin was such an unpractical man, he looked at everything from an ideal point of view," replied Pistasch.

"So much the better!" exclaimed Oswald eagerly. "That was why throughout the whole business it was his property alone that was sacrificed. You cannot imagine the harm done by this dabbling in speculation. It undermines our whole social order. We are at best not much else than romantic ruins. So long as the ruins can succeed in inspiring the public with respect, just so long they may remain standing. But let them once lose their prestige, and they will be regarded as useless rubbish, and as such be cleared away as soon as possible. What preserves us is a strict sense of honour, and a contempt for ign.o.ble methods of money getting. Pride without a chivalric back-ground is but a shabby characteristic, and if ...."

Some one knocked at the door, and the waiter entering handed Oswald a visiting-card.

"_Le comte_ Alfred de Capriani," read Oswald, "it must be for you," he said contemptuously, without noticing the few words written under the name, as he tossed the card to Pistasch.

"No," said the latter, "it is for you--look there--read,--'begs Count Lodrin for a brief interview.'"

"Extraordinary presumption!" grumbled Oswald, and then, with a shrug, he told the waiter to show the Conte in.

"You consent to receive him?" asked Pistasch.

"Good Heavens, yes!" replied Oswald, smiling, "he has just done me a kindness, my dear Pistasch, and has come for his pay. There are people who play the usurer with their kindnesses as well as with their money.

I will tell you the story by-and-by."

"Very well. Adieu, for the present; in half an hour I'll come and take you to the theatre;--she's not bad,--Giuletta as _Gretchen_."

And Pistasch departed; a minute afterward Capriani entered the room.

CHAPTER IV.

There are two ways of manifesting haughtiness,--that of Count Pistasch, and that of Oswald. If Pistasch had to receive an obnoxious visitor, he kept his cigar in his mouth, and his hands in his pockets;--Oswald, on the other hand, at such times observed the most marked and the most frigid politeness.

He received Capriani with a slight inclination of the head, and the conventional form of greeting, invited him to be seated, and took a chair opposite, naturally supposing that the Conte, with business-like prompt.i.tude, would immediately begin to speak of the purpose of his visit;--but no!--the Conte remained mute, only rivetting his large eyes upon the young man. Why should Oswald find those eyes so annoying? How came it that he seemed to have seen them before in some familiar face?

There was nothing bad in them--on the contrary at that moment they expressed only intense admiration, an expression, however, by no means to Oswald's taste. There might be reasons why he should condescend to discuss business-matters with Conte Capriani, but he thought it entirely unnecessary to subject himself to the Conte's admiration. He therefore broke the silence.

"You have done me a great favour," he began drily, "I shall be glad to show my grat.i.tude for it."

"Ah, such a trifle is not worth mentioning," said Capriani. "I was exceedingly delighted to have a chance to testify the cordial regard that I have always entertained for you."

"Quite insane," thought the young man. Then aloud. "I confess that this regard is rather incomprehensible to me,--moreover,--I believe you wished to speak with me upon business."

"Certainly!" replied Capriani, "but the business was merely a pretext,--imagine it,--a pretext for me,--a business-man _par excellence_--to obtain an opportunity of conveying my personal sentiments ...."

"The obtrusiveness of these creatures pa.s.ses all belief," thought Oswald. "I beg you," he said, "to take into consideration the fact that my time is,----unfortunately, not at my own disposal, and that consequently it would be well to come to the point. I think I can guess the purpose of your visit. Count Malzin informed me not long ago of your wishes. They are, so I understand, that I should give my support in an application to the government for a railway franchise, or rather that the plan of the railway, already projected, should be modified to meet your requirements--am I right?"