“Very well done, indeed!” said the advocate, who had listened kindly and attentively; “but your Italian pronunciation hinders me a little in following your Latin.”
“Probably there would be the same difficulty in Greek and German,” suggested Cristiano, changing first to the dead, and then to the living, language, with equal ease and correctness, and interspersing with his discourse quotations enough to prove that he was versed in both ancient and modern literature.
“Bravo!” cried the doctor; “you are a highly educated young fellow, I see. And French—do you know that also?”
“French and English, at your service,” said Cristiano. “I was taught them all; and my own preference led me to the study of languages.”
“Well, then, speak French,” said M. Goefle, who was hardly less of a polyglot than Cristiano. “I love Italy, but I adore France. She is our ally, useful or not; and, above all, she is the antagonist of Russia, which I hold in execration.”
“Great heavens! so do I. I am anti-Russian ever since I came into Sweden; and especially since last evening. But now, doctor, permit me to beg you not to take me for a pedant. The reason that I ventured to display my poor acquirements before a Professor of the Faculty of Lund is, that when you saw me carving that ham rather skilfully, you asked, in your own mind, whether I was not an ex-steward or butler from a good family, discharged in disgrace, and on the lookout for victims.”
“There now! Did you really guess that that idea was passing through my mind? Well, I confess it; and I see now that if you have been employed in good families, it has by no means been in a lackey’s place.”
“Oh, Mon Dieu, monsieur!” answered Cristiano; “lackey or professor, it is very much the same thing with some people, except the difference of a grade more or less.”
“Oh no! not in Sweden, my friend; the devil! no indeed; not here.”
“I know it, monsieur. Your people are fond of profound studies, and the promotion of knowledge is nowhere more nobly encouraged; but in other countries it often happens—”