Black Diamonds Part 20

"No, for the future is before us, and we shall work together. Now, I must ask you, as the countess's representative, to sign the necessary papers. There is the contract, and here is the check for the first half-year's rent, and here is another check for the sum of forty thousand gulden on my cas.h.i.+er."

"To whom payable?"

Felix answered by pressing the check into the abbe's hand, while he whispered in his ear:

"To the friendly representative."

The other shook his head, with a wounded look on his face. "You mean to offer _me_ a present?" he said, haughtily.

"You do not understand," returned Felix. "This money does not come from me; it forms part of the expenses of the company, and in all such undertakings figures under the head of 'necessary expenses.'"

As he spoke, Felix lit another cigar, and looked slyly at his companion, as who should say, "You see what a capital fellow I am!"

Round the abbe Samuel's mouth a contemptuous smile flickered as he tore the check for forty thousand gulden into four pieces; then he laid his hand upon the banker's shoulder.

"My dear boy," he said, "I had the whole Bondavara property in the hollow of my hand; it was mine to do as I chose with it. I did with it as I do with these pieces of paper." He threw the torn check into the grate. "Know me, once for all. I am no begging monk. I am a candidate for high honors; nothing will content me but to be ruler of a kingdom."

The haughty air with which the abbe said these words impressed the banker so much that he laid down his cigar and stared vacantly at his visitor.

"That is a great word," he said, slowly.

"Sit down and listen to what I shall disclose to you," returned the priest, who, with his hands behind his back, now began to walk up and down the room, pausing from time to time before his astonished listener, to whom he poured out a torrent of words.

"The whole world is in labor," he said, "and brings forth nothing but mice. And wherefore? Because the lions will not come into the world.

Chaos rules everywhere--in finance, in diplomacy, in the Church. One man who would have intellect enough to see clearly could be master of the situation. But where is he to be found? Fools in embroidered coats are the leaders; therefore we see a country governed by incapables, who do not know even where to begin. They would fain force it to submit, but are afraid to use the necessary means. They oppress it, and at the same time live in dread of what it may do. And this same country does not itself know what to-morrow may bring, whether it shall submit, pay the demands of its oppressors, or appeal to arms against their tyranny; neither does it know who is its foe, who is its friend, with whom to ally itself, against whom to fight; whether it will go on submitting, whether it shall break out into curses or wild laughter at its own follies. The country still possesses one element, which stands, as it were, neutral between the two parties; this element is the clerical; the Church is a power in Hungary."

Felix's face grew darker; he could not imagine what all this would lead to. But the abbe had now paused, and was standing before him.

"What do you think, my son," he said, "would be the reward due to the man who could find a way out of this ma.s.s of confusion--who could unite the cla.s.ses, and bring them into conformity with the wishes of the government? Do you not think that there is nothing which would better further your Bondavara speculation than a submissive deputation of priests and people, who would give a promise of fidelity to the minister? One hand washes the other; he who brings about such an unlooked-for condition of affairs must be recompensed. Now do you understand what use this would be to you?"

"I think I begin to see."

"And what office do you think should be offered to the man who brings the peasant's frock into subjection and elevates the mitre?"

Felix clasped his hands together. That was his answer. The clergyman resumed his walk up and down the room; his lips were compressed, his head in the air.

"The primate is an old man," he said, suddenly.

Felix leaned back in his chair. He could see better in this position the various expressions which pa.s.sed over the abbe's face. He started when the abbe murmured, almost under his breath:

"The pope is still older."

There was a moment's silence, and then the abbe continued, speaking fast and with excitement:

"Dwarfs are at the rudder, my son; dwarfs who believe that their impotent efforts will stem the storm. The Church is in danger of going to pieces, and they make use of the old worn-out means of support.

Listen to my words. All the efforts of Rome are fruitless; it tries to maintain its dignity with Peter's pence, and has allowed millions to slip through its fingers. Only here in Hungary has the Church any property left. I know well that in the minister's drawer there is a paper prepared which only needs the signature of the state to become law; it only requires a slight pretext, and Vienna will declare war against the clerical power in Hungary. She will fight it upon the liberal principle, and those who oppose will be the unpopular, the losing side. It is only a question of time. The deficit grows daily, the government is in a hole, the treasury is empty, there is no loan possible. Hence a fight over the budget, or a trifling war somewhere.

You know the proverb, 'When the devil is hungry he eats flies.' The clerical property in Hungary is the fly, and Austria will make one bite at it. The chair of St. Peter and the Church property in Hungary are both in danger. How is the danger to be averted? Let us put our shoulders to the wheel; let us be more patriotic than the democrats, more loyal than the prime-minister, more liberal than revolutionists; let us save the Church property from the government, and the Church itself from the revolution. Let us throw into the market a gigantic loan of a hundred millions upon the property of the Hungarian Church for the rescue of the throne of St. Peter. What do you now think of the man who could do this thing? What should be his reward?"

"Everything," stammered Felix, his mind confused over this bewildering, yet fascinating, programme.

"To this great work I have destined you," said the abbe, with a solemn, majestic air. "Your Bondavara speculation is necessary, for with it you can make a _coup_ which shall bring you a world-wide reputation, your name shall be on a par with that of the Strousbergs, the Pereiras, with that of Rothschild itself. This is the reason why I have given you my support. When you are firmly established, then I shall say to you, 'Lend me your shoulder,' upon which I shall climb where I will."

After this Felix sank into a waking dream. Before his eyes gleamed the gigantic loan, and through a mist he saw the tall form of the abbe with a crown upon his head.

CHAPTER XI

SOIReES AMALGAMANTES

One winter's morning Ivan Behrend, to his great astonishment, received a notice from the president of the Hungarian Academy of Arts and Science. This notice set forth that the members of the physical, scientific, and mathematical department had in the last general a.s.sembly chosen him as an honorary member of the before-mentioned departments; and before being elected member of the academy itself he should, in conformity to the established custom, read before the a.s.sembly his first address. Ivan was petrified with amazement. How had such an honor come to him? He who had never written a scientific paper in any periodical; who had no connections or friend in the academical a.s.sembly, who was not a magnate, or had played no part in political life. He was puzzled; he could not conceive who had brought forward his name. Could it have been, he thought, that in some way his chemical researches had reached their ears? In which case, as he told himself, every director of a mine, every manager of a factory, would be considered a philosopher and made member of the Academy, for every one of them possessed as much knowledge as he did. There was no use in thinking about it; the honor had come to him, and should be accepted.

Ivan thought it best not to look the gift-horse in the mouth; he therefore wrote to the secretary, expressing his grat.i.tude for the unlooked-for honor conferred upon him, and stating that towards the end of the year he would present himself in Pesth, and read before the ill.u.s.trious a.s.sembly his inaugural address. Then he considered the subject of this address long and carefully, and spent much of his time over its elaboration. It was an account of microscopical crustations, the study of which he had followed closely during the boring of an artesian well, and which during ten years he had perfectly mastered.

It took him until late in the autumn to complete his essay on the subject.

In many places, where such scientific research is valued at its proper merit, his paper would have been appreciated, and would have even caused a sensation; but we are bound in honesty to confess that it did not do so in Pesth, and that during the sixty minutes allowed by the canon law of all inst.i.tutions for such lectures, the microscopical crustations produced an amount of yawning unprecedented, even among academicians.

After the reading of the lecture was over the very first person to greet the neophyte and offer his congratulations was the Abbe Samuel, and then a light burst suddenly upon Ivan. He now saw who it was who had discovered his talents, and who had been his patron. It was something of a fall to his vanity; he had thought--well, it didn't matter, the abbe was doubtless as learned as any one in the a.s.sembly, and his thanks were due to him. Small attentions, it is said, consolidate friends.h.i.+p.

Ivan decided to spend some days in Pesth; he had business to do.

During the week several papers noticed his academical address; the most merciful was one which announced he had given an interesting lecture upon the "Volcanic Origin of the Stalact.i.tes." Ivan's only consolation was that in his own country no one read _The Referate_, and that abroad no one understood it, as it was written in Hungarian.

He was wrong, however; some one did read it--but of this again. One day, as Ivan was making his preparations for his homeward journey, he received from the Countess Theudelinde Bondavara a card of invitation for a _soiree_, which would take place three evenings later.

"Aha!" thought Ivan, "another thank-offering. It is well that it did not come sooner."

He sat down to his writing-table and answered the invitation in the most courteous manner, regretting his inability to avail himself of it in consequence of his immediate departure from Pesth. He was in the act of sealing the letter when the door opened and the Abbe Samuel was announced. Ivan expressed his great pleasure at receiving so distinguished a visitor.

"I could not let you leave Pesth without coming," answered the abbe, in his most friendly manner. "My visit was due, not only because I am much indebted for your kind a.s.sistance at Bondavara, but also because I felt it a necessity to tell you what an honor I count it to know such a distinguished scholar as you have proved yourself to be."

Ivan felt inclined to say that he was neither distinguished nor a scholar; he remained, however, silent.

"I trust," continued the abbe, seating himself upon the sofa, "that you intend to make a long stay in Pesth?"

"I am leaving to-morrow," returned Ivan, dryly.

"Oh, impossible! We cannot lose you so soon. I imagine you have a card for the Countess Theudelinde's next _soiree_?"

"I regret that I am prevented from accepting her agreeable invitation; I have pressing business which necessitates my return."

The abbe laughed. "Confess honestly," he said, "that if you had no other reason to return home, you would run away from an entertainment which would bore you infinitely."

"Well, then, if you will have the truth, I do confess that a _soiree_ is to me something of a penance."

"These _soirees_, however, are on a different footing from those _reunions_ which, I agree with you, are more pain than pleasure, and where a stranger feels himself 'out of it,' as the saying goes.

Countess Theudelinde aims at having a _salon_, and succeeds admirably.

She receives all the best people. I don't mean by that generic word only the upper ten, but the best in the true sense, the best that Pesth affords in art, in literature, in science; the aristocracy of birth, talent, and beauty."

Ivan shook his head incredulously. "And how does such a mixed gathering answer?"