"Not be excited! That is easy to say. Have you suffered as I have? Do you know what exile is? Do you know anything about penal labour? I was condemned to it for life, but I escaped. Such labour is very hard, but exile is even more intolerable."
After a short silence Gromof continued:--
"Braving all personal danger, I come here to prevent, if possible, a fatal precipitation; but I fear it is too late."
"But," said Jacob, "how can they commence a revolution without arms, without money, without leaders or soldiers?"
"Your crazy youth would go to battle with sticks and staves. The government, to encourage them, or rather to lead them into the snare of their own destruction, have permitted the underhand introduction of a small quantity of arms; they have been allowed to amass a little money, and the government has seemed to have its eyes shut to a movement that it has really instigated. Afterward they can repress it when they desire. In the eyes of Europe, the first aggression will be on your side. Your folly will have been heroic, but will only obtain a barren sympathy. Europe will authorize by her silence the horrible cruelties which Poland will again endure, and despotism, by this crafty political stroke, will be reinforced for a long time."
Jacob did not reply, and Gromof grew warmer and warmer, when Lucie Coloni came out of the next room, and, putting her hand on his brow, said in a caressing tone:--
"Serge, calm yourself, or you will be ill."
"It will kill me!" said Gromof, hanging his head for a moment, then raising it he cried furiously:--
"Bad luck to you! Bad luck to you, if our project is ruined by you foolish Poles!"
Jacob drew out his watch; the situation was unpleasant and he did not know what to do, what to say. The Russian looked at him reproachfully as if he had thrown cold water on his hopes; he seated himself again, and instead of acting like one possessed, Gromof suddenly became pleasant and agreeable.