"Oh, I know much more. My congratulations on the first kiss. Why, I was in the garden myself, 'pon my honor; and, 'pon my honor, quite accidentally, though it is not necessary to say that, for I am a chevalier and will keep quiet about it." The repetition of the word "honor" was not to be wondered at, as the whole story was a fabrication. He had not seen the couple himself, but his wife, impelled by curiosity and envy, had followed Judith, and had not only confided the result of her observations to him, but also to the wife of the burgomaster, a lady who filled a vacuum in the little town with rare zeal, as she took upon herself the functions of a local newspaper, in so far as her breath permitted. In this way it happened that every individual in the town above the age of ten years knew of it.
"Is this all you have to tell me?" inquired the count.
The magistrate grew pathetic. "I don't deserve that. I came with the very best intentions, and because I thought it necessary. I thought it possible you might wish to utilize the absence of old Trachtenberg, and so have appointed a rendezvous for to-day. I came to warn you. Yesterday I saw two Jewish girls wandering about who might have observed something. Don't forget the board has been taken down. It was noble of you and very like King Casimir, who opened all gates to the Jews at Esther's request. But take care! Her father has only gone to Tarnopol and will return to-day. Of course, I have no idea what progress you have made, but I should imagine an interference on the part of the father might spoil your little game."
The count felt himself blushing with shame. He was about to use some violent language, but had he not forfeited his right to do this?
"And now, my dear fellow," continued the magistrate, "I have a favor to ask for myself."
He hesitated. The count drew out his purse. "How much?"
"No, no, I do not mean that. It will only cost a kind word to a man who is dependent on you. I have got into a damnable fix, through pure good nature, 'pon my honor."
Agenor glanced at the clock. It was one, and in a half-hour he had an appointment with Judith in the park. "Well, tell me, and in as few words as possible."
"I suppose you remember the farmer on your estate at Syczkow. An Armenian, Bagdan Afanasiewicz? He was here when you came."
"Certainly; a stout man, with a long black beard. He was spoken of as a very good and pious man, but avaricious."