Henri grew excited, while his wife's face remained as calm as marble. He shrugged his shoulders, and hastily left the room. The carriage awaited him, and he was driven alone to Muse. She was all alone, but ready to receive company. She was elegantly dressed, perfumed, and in charming humour, and she greeted Segel warmly.
"Have you heard the news?" asked he.
"What news?"
"Jacob has fled."
"How could I, living in the same house, be ignorant of it; and I trembled for him, from what I know of Colonel Sofronof and Count Bavorof."
"He is now almost an outlaw," replied Henri. "More than once I have attempted, but unsuccessfully, to make him listen to reason. What eccentricity! He has often argued with the Russians and told all his thoughts, and the Russians did not like his sincerity; they required that men's convictions should bow to them, or else be concealed. I pity Jacob; but he is incorrigible and destitute of all prudence or policy."
Several visitors arrived. There was as usual a mixed crowd, and on one side Mann harangued a little group of friends.
"I avow to you, gentlemen," said he, "that I am delighted to be delivered from Jacob. He was a most compromising person, who belonged to neither party. He stood entirely alone, and such individuals are naturally victims of their narrow individuality; but after all I hope that nothing very bad will happen to him."
"Provided that he is not drawn into the revolution," remarked some one.
"I do not fear that," replied Mann. "Jacob is not a man of action. He knows how to think and talk only."