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Michel repeated the lines with a sort of defiance in his look, and longed impatiently and nervously for the day to end. A rapid flush of anger mounted to his face as his valet entered with a card upon a salver, and he exclaimed, harshly: "Did not Pierre give you my orders that I would receive no one?" "I beg your pardon, Monsieur; but Monsieur Labanoff insisted so strongly "
He stopped short, as if he feared that he had already said too much. "Adieu, my dear Menko." The Hungarian detained him with a gesture, saying, with a tremble in his voice: "Labanoff! You have found me when a crisis in my life is also impending. I am about, like yourself, to commit a great folly; a different one from yours, no doubt.
He liked him exceedingly for a sort of odd pessimism of aggressive philosophy, a species of mysticism mingled with bitterness, which Labanoff took no pains to conceal. The young Hungarian had, perhaps, among the men of his own age, no other friend in the world than this Russian with odd ideas, whose enigmatical smile puzzled and interested him. He looked at the clock.
Besides, I long to be on the move; Paris, London, the world, in short, bores me, bores me, bores me!" "The fact is, it is stupid, egotistical and cowardly," responded Labanoff. He again held out to Menko his nervous hand, burning, like his blue eyes, with fever. "Farewell!" he said. "No, no, 'au revoir'!" "'Au revoir' be it then. I will let you know what has become of me." "And where you are?"
He stopped short, as if he feared that he had already said too much. "Adieu, my dear Menko." The Hungarian detained him with a gesture, saying, with a tremble in his voice: "Labanoff! You have found me when a crisis in my life is also impending. I am about, like yourself, to commit a great folly; a different one from yours, no doubt.
Menko grasped the long, white hand extended to him. "My dear Labanoff, it is not difficult to guess that you are going on some dangerous errand." Smiling: "I will not do you the injustice to believe you a nihilist." Labanoff's blue eyes flashed. "No," he said, "no, I am not a nihilist. Annihilation is absurd; but liberty is a fine thing!"
In short, Count Menko is connected in some way, I don't know how, with this Labanoff. He went to Poland to join him, and the Russian police seized him. I think myself that they were quite right in their action." "Possibly," said Varhely; "but I do not care to discuss the right of the Russian police to defend themselves or the Czar.
Labanoff's visit might make the time pass until dinner. "Admit Monsieur Labanoff!" In a few moments Labanoff entered. He was a tall, thin young man, with a complexion the color of wax, flashing eyes, and a little pointed mustache. His hair, black and curly, was brushed straight up from his forehead. He had the air of a soldier in his long, closely buttoned frock-coat.
Angelo Valla you know him Manin's former minister " "Yes, I know," said Count Josef, with his enigmatical smile. "Valla told me of Menko's arrest. I knew that Menko had left Paris, and I was very anxious to find where he had gone. Valla learned, at the Italian embassy in Paris, of the affair of this Labanoff and of the real or apparent complicity of Michel Menko; and he told me about it.
Menko grasped the long, white hand extended to him. "My dear Labanoff, it is not difficult to guess that you are going on some dangerous errand." Smiling: "I will not do you the injustice to believe you a nihilist." Labanoff's blue eyes flashed. "No," he said, "no, I am not a nihilist. Annihilation is absurd; but liberty is a fine thing!"
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