The Poacher; Or, Joseph Rushbrook. Фредерик МарриетЧитать онлайн книгу.
dined at the ambassador’s, and went to the other parties, but did not meet with the object of his search. Being a good musician, he was much in request in so musical a society as that of Saint Petersburg. The emperor was still at his country palace, and O’Donahue had been more than a fortnight at the capital without there being an opportunity for the ambassador to present him at court.
Dimitri, the person whom O’Donahue engaged as courier, was a very clever, intelligent fellow; and as he found that O’Donahue had all the liberality of an Irishman, and was in every respect a most indulgent master, he soon had his interest at heart. Perhaps the more peculiar intimacy between O’Donahue and McShane, as a valet, assisted Dimitri in forming a good opinion of the former, as the hauteur and distance generally preserved by the English towards their domestics are very displeasing to the Continental servants, who, if permitted to be familiar, will not only serve you more faithfully, but be satisfied with more moderate wages. Dimitri spoke English and French pretty well, German and Russian of course perfectly. He was a Russian by birth, had been brought up at the Foundling Hospital, at Moscow, and therefore was not a serf. He soon became intimate with McShane: and as soon as the latter discovered that there was no intention on the part of Dimitri to be dishonest, he was satisfied, and treated him with cordiality.
“Tell your master this,” said Dimitri, “never to give his opinion on political matters before any one while in Petersburg, or he will be reported to the government, and will be looked upon with suspicion. All the servants and couriers here, indeed every third person you meet, is an agent of police.”
“Then it’s not at all unlikely that you are one yourself,” replied McShane.
“I am so,” replied Dimitri, coolly, “and all the better for your master. I shall be ordered to make my report in a few days, and I shall not fail to do so.”
“And what will they ask you?” said McShane.
“They will ask me first who and what your master is? Whether I have discovered from you, if he is of family and importance in his own country? whether he has expressed any political opinions? and whether I have discovered the real business which brought him here?”
“And what will you reply to all this?” answered McShane.
“Why, I hardly know. I wish I knew what he wishes me to say, for he is a gentleman whom I am very fond of, and that’s the truth; perhaps you can tell me?”
“Why, yes, I know a good deal about him, that’s certain. As for his family, there’s not a better in Ireland or England, for he’s royal if he had his right.”
“What!” exclaimed Dimitri.
“As sure as I’m sitting in this old arm-chair, didn’t he bring letters from the brother of the present king? does that go for nothing in this country of yours? or do you value men by the length of their beards?”
“Men are valued here not by their titles, but by their rank as officers. A general is a greater man than a prince,” replied Dimitri.
“With all my heart, for then I’m somebody,” replied McShane.
“You?” replied the courier.
“I mean my master,” returned McShane, correcting himself; “for he’s an officer, and a good one, too.”
“Yes, that may be; but you said yourself,” replied the courier, laughing. “My good friend, a valet to any one in Petersburg is no better than one of the mujiks who work in the streets. Well, I know that our master is an officer, and of high rank; as for his political opinions, I have never heard him express any, except his admiration of the city, and of course of the emperor.”
“Most decidedly; and of the empress also,” replied McShane.
“That is not at all necessary,” continued Dimitri, laughing. “In fact, he has no business to admire the empress.”
“But he admires the government and the laws,” said McShane; “and you may add, my good fellow—the army and the navy—by the powers, he’s all admiration, all over!—you may take my word for it.”
“Well, I will do so; but then there is one other question to reply to, which is, why did he come here? what is his business?”
“To look about him, to be sure; to spend his money like a gentleman; to give his letters of introduction; and to amuse himself,” replied McShane. “But this is dry talking, so, Dimitri, order a bottle of champagne, and then we’ll wet our whistle before we go on.”
“Champagne! will your master stand that?” inquired Dimitri.
“Stand it? to be sure, and he’d be very angry if he thought I did not make myself comfortable. Tell them to put it down in the bill for me; if they doubt the propriety, let them ask my master.”
Dimitri went and ordered the champagne. As soon as they had a glass, Dimitri observed, “Your master is a fine liberal fellow, and I would serve him to the last day of my life; but you see that the reasons you give for your master being here are the same as are given by everybody else, whether they come as spies or secret emissaries, or to foment insurrection; that answer, therefore, is considered as no answer at all by the police (although very often a true one), and they will try to find out whether it is so or not.”
“What other cause can a gentleman like him have for coming here? He is not going to dirty his hands with speculation, information, or any other botheration,” replied McShane, tossing off his glass.
“I don’t say so; but his having letters from the king’s brother will be considered suspicious.”
“The devil it will. Now in our country that would only create a suspicion that he was a real gentleman—that’s all.”
“You don’t understand this country,” replied Dimitri.
“No, it beats my comprehension entirely, and that’s a fact; so fill up your glass. I hope it’s not treason; but if it is, I can’t help saying it. My good friend Dimitri—”
“Stop,” said Dimitri, rising and shutting the door, “now, what is it?”
“Why, just this; I haven’t seen one good-looking woman since I’ve been in this good-looking town of yours; now, that’s the truth.”
“There’s more truth than treason in that,” replied the courier; “but still there are some beautiful women among the higher classes.”
“It’s to be hoped so; for they’ve left no beauty for the lower, at all events.”
“We have very beautiful women in Poland,” said the courier.
“Why don’t you bring a few here, then?”
“There are a great many Polish ladies in Petersburg at this moment.”
“Then go down and order another bottle,” said McShane, “and we’ll drink their healths.”
The second bottle was finished, and McShane, who had been drinking before, became less cautious.
“You said,” observed he, “that you have many Polish ladies in Petersburg; did you ever hear of a Princess Czartowinky?—I think that’s the name.”
“Czartorinski, you mean,” replied Dimitri; “to be sure I did; I served in the family some years ago, when the old prince was alive. But where did you see her?”
“In England, to be sure.”
“Well, that’s probable, for she has just returned from travelling with her uncle.”
“Is she now in Petersburg, my good fellow?”
“I believe she is—but why do wish to know?”
“Merely asked—that’s all.”
“Now, Macshanovich,”—for