Nathaniel was a polite man, but he could speak plainly on occasions. "You are mistaken," he said, quietly. "Wladko is dying of fear, and the count told you yesterday how painful to his feelings a duel would be on account of a Jewess. Your mistake arises from your desire to demand from me a large recompense for your services, and you wish to justify it by magnifying the difficulty of the negotiation. But that is not to be. You know I am willing you should earn money, but in this case I will not advance one penny. I will not have it said I preserved my daughter's good fame with money. If, however, you will do it for the sake of old friendship--"
Herr von Wroblewski made a gesture as if he had been the recipient of a token of Trachtenberg's deepest respect.
"There is no need of many words between us. Say on, my old friend."
"The difficulty is in the way alone. The count is unable to tender an apology. Wladko cannot withdraw without one. This can be circumvented in the following manner: Wladko can come with his father to-morrow morning about eleven o'clock, and beg my pardon. The count can hear of it and declare that, much as he disapproved of Wladko's conduct that evening, so now he approves of his chivalry in making a voluntary expiation."
"Splendid!" ejaculated the official. "But suppose Wladko--"
"Kef uses? He will be only too glad. At most, Jan will make it an occasion for renewing his request for a loan. But I trust you will make it clear to him."
"That this is not a time for a man of honor to ask for money? Certainly! Then to-morrow at eleven. The more formal the affair the better?"
"No. Only what is necessary."
"Shall I not invite the count, and his second, the Rittmeister? He can hear Wladko's explanation, say what he wishes, and all will be straight."
Nathaniel considered a moment, then nodded. "Yes, if the count will do me the honor."