mpany 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 class, 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