“Hast thought of this, what thou art to do should the case be lost?”
“I shall not lose it.”
“Everything may happen; thou knowest that best thyself.”
“I do not wish to think of it.”
“Still it’s thy duty,” said Pan Stanislav, with an accent of a certain pleasure, which Mashko did not notice. “What wilt thou do in such a case?”
Mashko rested his arms on his knees, and looking gloomily on the floor, said,—
“In such a case I shall have to leave Warsaw.”
A moment of silence came. The young advocate’s face became gloomier and gloomier; at last he grew thoughtful, and said,—
“Once, in my best days, I knew Baron Hirsh, in Paris. We met a number of times, and once we took part in some affair of honor. Sometimes now, when doubts come upon me, I remember him; he has withdrawn, apparently, from business, but really has much on hand, especially in the East. I know men who have made fortunes by him, for the field there is open at every step.”
“Dost think it possible to go to him?”