"Many thanks, but I have not a minute to spare. I can only hastily tell you what is most important. In the first place, they are furious at the Ministry of Commerce at a vote just pa.s.sed by the General Staff on the harbour question, which, as I am told by a colleague--I have not yet seen it myself,--is as good as a veto. The report is by a certain Captain von Schonau, but the actual author--did you ever hear of such a thing?--is himself a member of the War Office, and is of course no other than our friend the General. This throws us back I do not know how far or for how long. I am furious, and the more so that I can see no way of getting over this difficulty. To be sure, a man has influence, and could, if necessary, bring this influence to bear even against an old friend; but one would not like to do it except in the direst necessity. What do you advise?"

"That we should not tarnish the purity of our cause by mixing in it such odious personalities," answered Giraldi. "If you think yourself bound to spare an old friend, you know that there exists between the General and me an enmity of long standing; and everything that I should do or allow to be done against him would appear justly in the eyes of all as an act of common revenge, which G.o.d forbid! If it is His will He will surely bring about an event which will make our opponent harmless, and that need not be an accident because men call it so."

"You mean if he were to die?" asked the Councillor, with a hesitating glance.

"I mean nothing positive, and certainly not his death. As far as I am concerned, may he live long!"

"That is a n.o.ble and Christian-like wish," answered the Councillor, rubbing his long nose, "and no doubt spoken from your heart; still his opposition is and remains a stumbling-block to us, and I wish that were our only hindrance. But now, Count Golm tells me--I have just come from him; he will have the honour almost immediately; I only hurried on before him because I have something to say about him presently--Count Golm tells me that his efforts--he went over there in his present semi-official capacity as future chairman of the board--that his efforts with the President in Sundin have been quite useless. He had made up his mind and could not alter it, however willingly he would give way to the Count, for a thousand reasons of neighbourly feeling and personal good-will, and so forth. Golm, who between ourselves is clever enough and certainly not bashful, naturally allowed the great sacrifice to be perceived that we have determined to make--all in vain.

In fact Golm thinks that he has rather done harm than good in the matter."

"As is the case with all half measures," said Giraldi.

"With half measures, my dear sir. How do you mean?"

"What was he offered?"

"Fifty thousand thalers down and the first directorship of the new railway, with six thousand a year fixed salary, besides an official residence, travelling expenses, and so forth."

"Then about half what he demands?"

"He demands nothing."

"A man does not demand under those circ.u.mstances; he lets it be offered to him. Authorise the Count to double it, and I bet you anything the business is done."

"We cannot go so far as that," answered the Councillor, rubbing his closely-cropped head; "our means do not allow it. Besides the rest of us--and then Count Golm himself is satisfied with fifty thousand for the present, we cannot offer the President twice as much without offending Golm. He is not particularly pleased with us as it is, and that is the point I want to talk to you about before he comes. Is it really impossible for you--I mean for the Warnow trustees--to sell the property directly to us, the provisional board?"

"Over the Count's head!" exclaimed Giraldi. "Why I fancy, Councillor, that you are bound to the Count in that matter by the most positive promises."

"True, true, unfortunately! But Lubbener, our financial adviser and----"

"The Count's banker--I know."

"You know everything! Lubbener thinks we might find some pretext in the case of a gentleman who, like the Count, is always getting into fresh difficulties and is always inclined or forced to sell his birthright for a mess of pottage. At the same time we do not wish or intend to act contrary to your intentions, and if you insist----"

"I insist upon nothing, Councillor," answered Giraldi; "I simply obey the wishes of my client, which are on this point identical with those of Herr von Wallbach."

"Good heavens!" said the Councillor impatiently. "I can quite understand that for the sake of appearances you would prefer to sell to a man of position rather than to a provisional board, although the man of position in question is a member of that very board; but you must not forget that we should pay you as much, or nearly as much, directly as we must afterwards pay to the Count."

"The Count will not get off so cheaply either as you seem to think."

"Then he will sell so much the dearer to us," said the Councillor; "and it will be so much the worse for us."

"Nevertheless I must refuse my support in this matter, to my great regret," answered Giraldi decidedly.

The Councillor looked very much disgusted. "The best of it is," he said sulkily, "that he cannot find the money--not even a hundred thousand, and still less the million or whatever sum we decide upon as the price of the land. He must come to us then; I know n.o.body else who would advance him so much at once, or even in instalments. I can tell him, however, beforehand, without being Merlin the Wise, that we shall not let him have the money cheap, so it will come to the same thing in the end. But now, my honoured patron, I must make room for the Count and take leave of you. Give my best regards to the lady, whom unfortunately I have not yet the honour of knowing, but for whom I have always had the deepest respect, and for whom I have broken many a lance in knightly fashion. And not in vain, for this family visit--I met Fraulein Sidonie in the hall, Fraulein Elsa had hastened on in front--is a concession which I may, without vanity, look upon as the result of my powers of persuasion. Apropos of my dear old friend Sidonie, you wished to know yesterday what it was that had actually decided the matter of the betrothal and put an end to Ottomar's obstinate resistance."

"Well!" asked Giraldi, with unfeigned curiosity.

"I do not know," said the Councillor, with his finger on his long nose; "that is to say, my dear friend does not know, or she was sure to have told me. According to the servant's evidence--that was all she could tell me--an interview took place the night before between the father and son; but I have every reason to suspect that the subject was no romantic one, but on the contrary, the equally prosaic and inexhaustible one of Ottomar's debts. Farewell, my dear and honoured patron!--You will keep me informed?"

"Be a.s.sured of it."

The Councillor was gone. Giraldi's dark eyes were still fixed on the door; a smile of the deepest contempt played upon his lips.

"_Buffone!_" he murmured.

CHAPTER IV.

He stood sunk in the deepest thought, his slender white fingers stroking his dark beard. "It is amusing to be the only well-informed man amongst the ignorant; amusing and sad. I feel it for the first time, now that I can no longer share my thoughts and plans with her.

She has brought it on herself, and she is heaping wrong upon wrong. A little while ago and the measure was nearly full. If a spark of the old love remained in her she must have taken it differently. That pallor, that terror, that 'no!' at the mere vision of what formerly her soul thirsted for, as the thirsty traveller in the desert longs for the stream of water in the oasis. Only because it was a vision? Because it was not the truth? And if it were made truth?" Giraldi slowly paced the apartment. "His parents are dead, the monk may be disposed of, and the handsome youth can have no objection; he is vain and false, and in love; any one of the three would suffice to induce him to play the part. And then the likeness--it is not very striking, but she cannot convict me of falsehood when she sees him; and she must see him."

In the anteroom was a stir as of several people moving; Giraldi, who was near the door, advanced a step nearer and listened; doubtless the visit announced in the niece's note. They were all pressing round her now; they who had formerly avoided Valerie as an outcast and castaway hastened to her now that she was their equal and doubly as powerful.

They would try to make up by the flatteries and caresses of one hour for what they had for long years committed against her in their stupid shortsightedness. She had said once that she longed for this hour, in order that she might set her foot on the necks of her persecutors, and pay them back in their own coin for their treatment of her. He had just now repeated the words that had often been mentioned between them, but she had not taken them up. The old German love of family was moving in her towards her blood-relations, while her own flesh and blood--his own--

He struck his forehead with his clenched fist. "That was the only foolish action of my life. What would I give if I could undo it!"

All was quiet again in the anteroom; Giraldi opened the door and beckoned in Francois, who handed him a number of visiting cards.

"I brought them out again, monsieur," said Francois; "I was not sure of being able to remember those German names."

"You must practise," said Giraldi, letting the cards run through his fingers; "Privy Councillor Wallbach, Frau Louisa von Wallbach (nee Herrenburg Semlow), Ottomar von Werben, Carla von Wallbach--_mon Dieu!_ it is not so very difficult--I can remember twenty names that I have heard mentioned."

"Oh yes, you, monsieur!" said Francois, bowing with a cringing smile.

"I expect the same of you. How did madame receive the lady who came first, the young Fraulein Elsa von Werben!"

"Mademoiselle shut the door when I wanted to follow her. I could not do it with the best will in the world. Mademoiselle seems to be very determined."

"You are a fool. And the second lady, the older one, Fraulein Sidonie von Werben, or were you out of the way again?"

"Oh! no, monsieur! She is a great lady who gives herself airs; there was no difficulty with her. She walked ten paces forward and then made her curtsey. Oh, monsieur! such a curtsey! I could not help thinking of Madame la d.u.c.h.esse de Rosambert, from whose service I came into monsieur's."

"Good! and madame?"

"Madame could not help smiling--a melancholy smile, monsieur, that went to one's heart."

And Francois laid his hand with a hypocritical look on his dazzlingly white closely-plaited shirt-front with its large gold studs.

"You may dispense with those grimaces in my presence! Go on."

"Madame, who had pa.s.sed her left arm through mademoiselle's, and did not let it go now, held out her right hand and said: 'Ah, que nous----'"

"In French?"

"No, monsieur, in German."