bt it. What about Ferency Szilogyi? Is he also writing books
under the direction of the Archduke Rudolph?"

"No! no! Ferency Szilogyi is president of the court of assizes, and a
very good magistrate he is."

"He! an hussar?"

"Oh! the world changes! His uniform sleeps in some chest, preserved in
camphor. Szilogyi has only one fault: he is too strongly anti-Semitic."

"He! a Liberal?"

"He detests the Israelites, and he allows it to be seen a little too
much. He embarrasses us sometimes. But there is one extenuating
circumstance--he has married a Jewess!"

This was said in a light, careless, humorously sceptical tone.

"On the whole," concluded the minister, "Armand Bitto, who is no longer
in this world, is perhaps the most fortunate of all."

Then, turning to Yanski with his pleasant smile, and holding out his
delicate, well-kept hand, which had once brandished the sabre, he said:

"My dear Varhely, you will dine with me to-morrow, will you not? It is a
great pleasure to see you again! Tomorrow I shall most probably give you
an answer to your request--a request which I am happy, very happy, to
take into consideration. I wish also to present you to the Countess. But
no allusions to the past before her! She is a Spaniard, and she would not
understand the old ideas very well. Kossuth, Bem, and Georgei would
astonish her, astonish her! I trust to your tact, Varhely. And then it is
so long ago, so very long ago, all that. Let the dead past bury its dead!
Is it understood?"

Yanski Varhely departed, a little stunned by this interview. He had never
felt so old, so out of the fashion, before. Prince Zilah and he now
seemed to him like two ancestors of the present generation--Don Quixotes,
romanticists, imbeciles. The minister was, as Jacquemin would have said,
a sly dog, who took the times as he found them, and left spectres in
peace. Well, perhaps he was right!

"Ah, well," thought the old hussar, with an odd smile, "there is the age
of moustaches and the age of whiskers, that is all. Ladany has even found
a way to become bald: he was born to be a minister!"

It little mattered to him, however, this souvenir of his youth found with
new characteristics. If Count Josef Ladany rescued Menko from the police
of the Czar, and, by setting him free, delivered him to him, Varhely, all
was well. By entering the ministry, Ladany would thus be at least useful
for something.

CHAPTER XXX

"TO SEEK FORGETFULNESS"

T