“Indeed,” said I, half superciliously.
“Yes,” resumed he, “I think so; not but you'd have managed better in leaving the thing to us, That stupid notion you all have of writing letters to newspapers and getting some troublesome fellow to ask questions in the House, that's what spoils everything! How can we negotiate when the whole story is in the 'Times' or the 'Daily News'?”
“I opine, sir, that you are ascribing to me an activity and energy I have no claim to.”
“Well, if you did n't write those letters, somebody else did. I don't care a rush for the difference. You see, here's how the matter stands. This Mr. Brigges, or Rigges, has gone off, and does n't care to prosecute, and all his allegations against you fall to the ground. Well, these people fancy they could carry on the thing themselves, you understand; we think not. They say they have got a strong case; perhaps they have; but we ask, 'What's the use of it? Sending the poor beggar to Spielberg won't save you, will it?' And so we put it to them this way: 'Draw stakes, let him off, and both can cry quits.' There, give me another light Isn't that the common-sense view of it?”
“I scarcely dare to say that I understand you aright.”
“Oh, I can guess why. I have had dealings with fellows of your sort before. You don't fancy my not alluding to compensation, eh? You want to hear about the money part of the matter?”
And he laughed aloud; but whether at my mercenary spirit or his own shrewdness in detecting it, I do not really know.
“Well, I'm afraid,” continued he, “you'll be disappointed there. These Austrians are hard up; besides, they never do pay. It's against their system, and so we never ask them.”
“Would it be too much, sir, to ask why I have been imprisoned?”
“Perhaps not; but a great deal too much for me to tell you. The confounded papers would fill a cart, and that's the reason I say, cut your stick, my man, and get away.” Again he turned to the window, and, looking out, asked, “Any shooting about here? There ought to be cocks in that wood yonder?” and without caring for reply, went on, “After all, you know what bosh it is to talk about chains and dungeons, and bread-and-water, and the rest of it. You 've been living in clover here. That old fellow below tells me that you dine with him every day; that you might have gone into Innspruck, to the theatre if you liked it—I 'll swear there are snipes in that low land next the river.—Think it over, Rigges, think it over.”