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Updated: June 8, 2025
No word more was spoken by either until they reached the villa; then Prince Zilah shook Yanski's hand and retired to his chamber. Lighting his lamp, he took out and read and reread, for the hundredth time perhaps, certain letters letters not addressed to him those letters which Varhely had handed him, and with which Michel Menko had practically struck him the day of his marriage.
"No," said Andras. "The one whom I expected to find here was not you." "Who was it, then?" "Michel Menko!" Yanski Varhely turned toward Marsa. She did not stir; she was looking at the Prince. "Michel Menko is dead," responded Varhely, shortly. "It was to announce that to the Princess Zilah that I am here."
The former leader had doubtless aged terribly he must be a man of fifty-five or fifty-six, to-day; but Varhely was sure that Joseph Ladany, now become minister, had preserved his generous, ardent nature of other days. As he crossed the antechambers and lofty halls which led to the minister's office, Varhely still saw, in his mind's eye, Ladany, sabre in hand, astride of the smoking cannon.
He was astonished at the almost violent pressure of the hand which Varhely gave him, as if he were departing for a very long journey. "Why didn't Valla come to see me?" he asked. "He is one of the few I am always glad to see." "He had no time. He had to be away again at once, and he asked me to excuse him to you."
Valla had assured him that he could rely on him for any service; and Varhely left Vienna, certain that he should find Manin's old minister at Florence. "After all, he has not changed so much," he said to himself, thinking of Josef Ladany. "Without his aid, Menko would certainly have escaped me. Ladany has taken the times as they are: Zilah and I desire to have them as they should be.
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!
One of them called out, gayly: "Do you wish to find your sweethearts, signori? That isn't the way!" A little farther, Varhely and his adversary encountered a monk with a cowl drawn over his head so that only his eyes could be seen, who, holding out a zinc money-box, demanded 'elemosina', alms for the sick in hospitals. Menko opened his pocketbook, and dropped in the box a dozen pieces of gold.
A poor old blind man, cowering upon the steps of the sanctuary, was murmuring a monotonous prayer, like the plaint of a night bird. Yanski Varhely regarded the scene with curiosity, as he waited for the end of the ceremony.
Zilah took the hand which Varhely extended, and clasped it warmly in both his own. Upon the steps Varhely found Marsa, who, in her turn, shook his hand. "Au revoir, Count." "Au revoir, Princess." She smiled at Andras, who accompanied Varhely, and who held in his hand the package with the seals unbroken. "Princess!" she said.
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.
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