Russian tyranny increased the number of the revolutionists, for often a cause which has at the outset few adherents rapidly develops when blood has been shed.

Jacob, who had been opposed to those who incited the country to a revolution, modified his sentiments in its favour when the government displayed bayonets and erected scaffolds.

At the head of the saviours of Poland by terrorism was the Grand Duke Constantine, brother of Alexander II., and the Marquis Wielopolski. These two would probably have adopted another system if Petersburg had not forced them to employ the traditional remedies of cruelty and tyranny, banishment, the penalty of death, Siberia, and penal servitude.

Jacob did not protest against resistance to arbitrary enlistment accomplished in the most outrageous manner. From the Polish nation, wounded in its dignity, rose on all sides the cry of revolt. "Rather death than be slaves, kissing under the knout the hand of our executioners!"

Jacob was willing to do anything he could, but his former prudence had alienated him from the revolutionary party. So he employed himself in publishing a Jewish journal in the Polish language, in which he continued to maintain his ideas of Jewish reform; but for such a propaganda the moment was not opportune. New troubles also awaited him. His articles, written in elegant style with warm conviction, attained recognition from his co-religionists only on their literary merit. To some it was superstition, to others fanaticism, and so he remained alone in politics as well as religion. He was too much Jew or too little Jew, too patriotic or not patriotic enough. The society of his mother was a great consolation to him at this time. He had installed her in his apartments, and often walked out with her, and his filial devotion had put him under the ban of the wealthy Jewish society. He was avoided by all. He perceived it, and renounced all relations with these narrow-minded men. He even ceased to go to Segel's on account of Henri's coldness. Mathilde gave another explanation to this voluntary ostracism; in it she saw confirmation of the rumours she had heard. The poor girl suffered greatly.

One evening Jacob was tempted to visit the Wtorkowska's, hoping to meet Mathilde. In the midst of an assembly composed almost exclusively of Russians appeared a new-comer, the Count Bavorof, counsellor of state. He was scarcely thirty years old, and was said to be a great favourite of the Grand Duke Constantine, and above all he was a bachelor. Naturally, Muse wished to count him among the number of her adorers, and had already tried on him the irresistible combination of beauty joined to wit.

Jacob approached Mathilde, who was seated at one side, alone. Her deadly pallor shocked him.

"Are you suffering?" asked he, in a low voice.

The young woman threw on him a glance of profound compassion, and replied:--

"No. I feel no worse to-day than usual."

"I have not seen you for a long time," said Jacob.

"That is true."

"It is my fault; but I cannot impose myself on men who repulse me."

"Rather, is it not you who repulse them?"

The remark sounded like a reproach.

"How? I? They avoid me because my dear old mother, who is endowed with many excellent qualities, is not an elegant and fashionable woman. Is that any reason why I should not love her and cherish her? The ridiculous snobbishness of my so-called friends will not regulate my conduct."

"Is it your mother alone that keeps you from us? Perhaps there is another person who absorbs your time?"

Jacob opened his eyes, astonished. There was something in his look so open and reassuring, that she felt shaken in her conviction. She blushed, and was too embarrassed to prolong the conversation, so she rose and went to sit near Muse. She took her leave soon, bowing to Jacob from a distance.

The latter was downcast. He sought in vain the key to this enigma. He understood that some one had calumniated him to his beloved, but who or what it was he could not imagine.

In the salon the conversation was animated. Colonel Sofronof, Count Bavorof, Muse, and the Counsellor Pikulinski made most of the noise. The recent recruiting, from which had burst out the first revolutionary spark, was the subject of the discussion. Sofronof did not approve of the measure, and commenced to question the genius of the Marquis Wielopolski. The Count Bavorof, with his ideas fresh from Moscow, told of the atrocious repressions, since perfected and adopted with so much cruelty, which the journalist, Katkof, was disposed to raise to the height of a system.

The Counsellor Pikulinski was one of those counsellors from whom no one expects the least counsel. He was an absolute nonentity. The sole thought which predominated in his poorly developed brain was the perpetual fear of compromising himself. Like a doll that always squeaks alike when it is struck in the stomach, at each instant he repeated the word "yes," with an approving nod of the head.

It mattered little to Pikulinski if the "yes" accorded to one person contradicted the "yes" offered to another. The essential thing with him was not to oppose superior authority or its representatives. Thanks to this invariable line of conduct, he had made a splendid career in the bureaucratic hierarchy. Decorated with the cordon of Saint Stanislas, the cross of Saint Waldimir, he enjoyed the entire confidence of the government as a reward of twenty-five years of faithful service.

Despite his intrinsic nullity he displayed an enormous activity. Official presentations, manifestations of devotion, addresses of submission to the government, subscriptions of command, deputations, wherever he could make himself conspicuous, Pikulinski appeared.

A kind-hearted man, he knew how to render himself agreeable to the old dignitaries and to the venerable dowagers, and it was natural that he should expect still further promotion in his civil career. The title of senator and the order of the White Eagle could not escape him; it was only a question of time. At each new favour from the government Pikulinski was profoundly touched. He quickly put on his full-dress uniform covered with decorations, and hastened to present himself at the chateau, in order to return his humble thanks. He always returned from these interviews puffed up with pride at the flattering words of his chiefs.

"If every one," thought he, "would imitate my example, how many evils might be averted. Unfortunately, most of my Polish compatriots are wanting in tact and have little policy."

In Madame Wtorkowska's salon he took no active part in the conversation, but contented himself by throwing in here and there a "yes" which was only varied by the inflexion.

"Russia," said Bavorof, "can say that she will act independently with more justice than Italy. She will carefully refrain from an alliance with perfidious Austria and feudal Prussia. Young and vigorous, she is strong enough to make head against the whole Occident united."

"Yes," immediately assented Pikulinski.

"It would be wiser to avoid the conflict," said Sofronof.

"Yes," said the counsellor of state feebly.

"For my part," said Jacob, "I think it would be a sensible thing for her not to engage in so formidable a combat."

"And why, then?" demanded Bavorof.

At this question Pikulinski accidentally let fall a "yes," which he tried to smother by coughing.

"Poland," replied Jacob, "claims only the liberties guaranteed by legitimate treaties of the past. It would be much better to give them to her, than to reply by terrorism and false claims."

The counsellor of state could scarcely suppress a "yes," which was on the point of coming out; then he feared that he had compromised himself by merely assisting at this conversation; he was taken with pains in the stomach, and took refuge in another part of the room.

"You are putting yourself in a bad light, monsieur," replied the count. "We do not recognize any rights whatever on the part of Poland nor the Poles, not even the inherent rights of men. Our first duty is to repress this revolutionary tendency. Our strength sustains us; it is by this that we live. Our sole means of existence are our swords."

"To say that Russia's only power is brute force," replied Jacob, "is to avow her moral weakness."

"Until the present the empire has had no other foundation than force, described by you as brutal. That may change, perhaps; but in the meanwhile I repeat to you our gospel is the sword."

The count's cynicism shocked the colonel, who was more diplomatic.

"Monsieur le Comte," said he, "I cannot entirely agree with you. There are certain hereditary rights which should be superior to force."

Pikulinski almost let fall a "yes," but judged it prudent to await a better occasion.

"Passive obedience," continued Jacob, addressing the count, "seems to be your principal axiom."

"Yes, for it is a national axiom, powerful as a religious dogma. Add to that, money, official position, decorations, titles of nobility, and all advantages which the government can give"--

"Then you speculate on human weaknesses, cupidity, vanity, ambition?"

"You have said it. All the science of statesmen worthy of the name is summed up in working men through their vices. To speculate on virtue is only a dream, a childish illusion. Why? Because in humanity vice always predominates over virtue."

Muse, who practised after her own fashion the maxims of Bavorof, believed, nevertheless, that it would look better for one of her sex to appear shocked, and cried:--

"Oh, Monsieur le Comte, your ideas are really shocking."

"Pardon me, mademoiselle, they were not said for your charming ears."

Pikulinski let fall a loud "yes," being sure that he could not compromise himself this time.

"You know, however," replied Muse, "that just now most of our women are mixed up in politics. We are accustomed to hear everything, and our influence is widespread."

"It is a misfortune. It does not well become your white hands to stir up the filth of life, nor to penetrate, elegant and perfumed, into the laboratory where are prepared the drugs for the maladies of humanity."

Pikulinski thought this remark merited a repeated "yes, yes."

"You think, then," asked Jacob, "that morals should have no part in the government of nations?"

"Morals! There is no sense in the word. Politics exclude morals."

"If that is your profession of faith, all discussion is impossible between us. I believe in morality, always and everywhere, and every time that an injury is done to it I call on the justice of God."

"God! Justice! You believe in that? Are you a Catholic?"

"No; I am a Jew."

Bavorof had never met a Jew of this stamp. He looked at him in astonishment, and asked:--

"German Jew?"

"No; Polish."

"Does Poland contain many Jews who think and reason like you?"

"I do not understand the question."

"I mean no offence. I wish to know if there are in Poland many Israelites who are polished and educated."

"There are many better educated and more polished than I."

"Then so much the better. You can exercise a happy influence over the people in curing them of their patriotism without a future, and of their superannuated Catholicism. Eliminate the feudal spirit and that of the nobility, and with these new conditions will come the fusion between Russia and Poland."

"The Jews who are preserved, thanks to their religious faith, cannot employ themselves by tearing out the hearts of others."

"I have, then, the pleasure of talking with a revolutionist."

"Not at all. Though there are circumstances when men who were most opposed to revolution have taken part in them, in spite of themselves."

"Pardon me," said Sofronof, interrupting him. "The truth is that Poland will never be satisfied. Give her autonomy. She would soon demand the annexation of the provinces included in Russia, Prussia, and Austria. Give them all that, and they would claim the ports on the Baltic and on the Black sea."

"One thing certain," replied Jacob, "is that Russia never yet has tried to satisfy Poland in any way."

"And Alexander I.?" asked Bavorof.

"Alexander I. promised much and performed little, and that little he has taken back again by the hand of his brother, the Tsarevitch Constantine."

At these words Pikulinski was thoroughly frightened; he was afraid to breathe even the same air with this audacious man. He thought of pretending to have the nose-bleed for a pretext to leave suddenly. However, he remained.

"And Russia did wrong to promise and make those concessions," replied Bavorof. "Since 1815 it has been necessary to uproot and overthrow Polonism and Catholicism. They must be replaced by the Russian spirit and the orthodox Greek church."

"But, Monsieur le Comte, did you not just avow that Russia's power is in her material force? In that case, what is the Russian spirit, and how shall she inspire others with a spirit which is actually incompatible with strength?"

"The contradiction is not so apparent. Our spirit is to destroy all those who do not think with us. We were wrong to deceive Poland with fallacious promises; between us it is a battle to the death. Her annihilation is our end, and always has been."

"And what will come out of the ruins?"

"An enormous Russia, a Russia semi-civilized,--paleoslav, democratic, and social, with a Czar at the head. A republic, if you will, democ-soc, as they said in 1848, with a hereditary president clothed with dictatorial authority, and to the eyes of the ignorant masses of a sacred and divine character. I am a noble; but to tell the truth, in Russia nobility does not exist. It never has existed, and never will. All Russians are equally under the knout."

This expression of the republic, democ-soc, even in the mouth of Bavorof, sounded so badly to the ears of Pikulinski, that this time he suppressed the "yes," and, under pretext of the nose-bleed that he had in reserve, hid his face in his handkerchief.

Jacob, after taking the tour of the salon two or three times, took his leave.

"Who is this man?" asked the count. "Is he really a Jew?"

"Yes," replied Muse; "and there are many Israelites here who are as well educated."

"And have they the same ideas?"

"Not by any means," replied Sofronof, who had some acquaintance with Jewish society. "This man is an exception. He is an idealist, a dreamer, a reformer. An original, he walks alone."

"A dangerous man," muttered Bavorof. "He is obstinate, no doubt, like all men with convictions, imbued with a fervent mysticism and plunged in the clouds of spirituality. He sets up a standard of morals and right that takes with weak-minded people everywhere; above all, the women. If he were a Catholic I would have arrested him and banished him without further ceremony; but he is only a Jew, so we can have a little patience."

"At Warsaw," said Muse, "the Israelites play a grand rÔle. It is difficult to distinguish them from the rest of society at first sight."

"But from what I have heard they are not friends with the feudalists."

"It is not so; they are reconciled."

"That is a pity. Then we must sow discord among them. Divide and conquer is one of our maxims."

"You are a strange politician, dear count," said Sofronof; "you think aloud."

"Like a celebrated minister. To-day it is the best way to deceive the world. Men are always disposed to attribute to you ideas contrary to those which you loudly proclaim."

Pikulinski confirmed this sentence with two loud "yeses," and went away wondering if he could in any way have compromised himself.

One day, soon after, Bavorof said to Sofronof:--

"I recommend you, colonel, to warn the police not to lose sight of this Jew, Jacob. He displeases me. He sees through our plots. There are only two alternatives: to oblige him to serve us, or to send him to Penza."

"What good would that do? His is an open nature, from which we have nothing to fear. He is wrapped up in the Talmud and his innocent mania of playing the prophet."

"As for me, I despise his prophecy. Is he rich?"

"Very rich."

"So much the worse. Ambitious?"

"Not the least in the world."

"Still worse. Is he a coward?"

"I do not think so."

"In that case to Penza! To Penza!"

"But he is not a revolutionist."

"That is still worse. Sooner or later a revolutionist will change his skin. A revolutionist can be dealt with; but a liberal, a legalist, a moralist, who believes in men's rights, this is a dangerous animal. Give me individuals like Pikulinski, malleable to our will, and I will place them in the centre of our social organism. We can control them, and, with the rabble at our feet, all will go smoothly. Hurrah!"