"You do not disobey this order?" said the Pole, crossing his arms.
"I shall certainly go into the Faubourg du Temple this evening," answered
Rameau, drily, "I have business that way."
"Bon!" said the Pole; "I did not think you would fail us, though you do edit a journal which says not a word on the duties that bind the French people to the resuscitation of Poland."
"And is not pronounced in decided accents upon the cause of the human race," put in the Italian, whispering.
"I do not write the political articles in Le Seas Commun," answered Rameau; "and I suppose that our president is satisfied with them since he recommended me to the preference of the person who does. Have you more to say? Pardon me, my time is precious, for it does not belong to me."
"Eno'!" said the Italian, "we will detain you no longer." Here, with a bow and a smile, he glided towards the door.
"Confrere," muttered the Pole, lingering, "you must have become very rich!—do not forget the wrongs of Poland—I am their Representative—I —speaking in that character, not as myself individually—I have not breakfasted!"
Rameau, too thoroughly Parisian not to be as lavish of his own money as he was envious of another's, slipped some pieces of gold in the Pole's hand. The Pole's bosom heaved with manly emotion: "These pieces bear the effigies of the tyrant—I accept them as redeemed from disgrace by their uses to Freedom."
"Share them with Signor Raselli in the name of the same cause," whispered
Rameau, with a smile he might have plagiarised from De Mauleon.
The Italian, whose ear was inured to whispers, heard and turned round as he stood at the threshold.