The minister uttered these words in a calm, courteous, polished manner, even when he said “The devil take him!” He then went on to say, that he could not make Varhely an absolute promise; he would look over the papers in the affair, telegraph to Warsaw and St. Petersburg, make a rapid study of what he called again the “very embarrassing” case of Michel Menko, and give Varhely an answer within twenty-four hours.

“That will give you a chance to take a look at our city, my dear Count.  Vienna has changed very much.  Have you seen the opera-house?  It is superb.  Hans Makart is just exhibiting a new picture.  Be sure to see it, and visit his studio, too; it is well worth examining.  I have no need to tell you that I am at your service to act as your cicerone, and show you all the sights.”

“Are any of our old friends settled here?” asked Varhely.

“Yes, yes,” said the minister, softly.  “But they are deputies, university professors, or councillors of the administration.  All changed! all changed!”

Then Varhely wished to know if certain among them whom he had not forgotten had “changed,” as the minister said.

“Where is Armand Bitto?”

“Dead.  He died very poor.”

“And Arpad Ovody, Georgei’s lieutenant, who was so brave at the assault of Buda?  I thought that he was killed with that bullet through his cheek.”

“Ovody?  He is at the head of the Magyar Bank, and is charged by the ministry with the conversion of the six per cent.  Hungarian loan.  He is intimately connected with the Rothschild group.  He has I don’t know how many thousand florins a year, and a castle in the neighborhood of Presburg.  A great collector of pictures, and a very amiable man!”

“And Hieronymis Janos, who wrote such eloquent proclamations and calls to arms?  Kossuth was very fond of him.”

“He is busy, with Maurice Jokai, preparing a great book upon the Austro-Hungarian monarchy, a book patronized by the Archduke Rudolph.  He will doubtless edit the part relative to the kingdom of Saint Stephen.”

“Ha! ha!  He will have a difficult task when he comes to the recital of the battle at Raab against Francis Joseph in person!  He commanded at Raab himself, as you must remember well.”

“Yes, he did, I remember,” said the minister.  Then, with a smile, he added:  “Bah!  History is written, not made.  Hieronymis Janos’s book will be very good, very good!”

“I don’t doubt 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!”