Then Mathias Ráby turned to the governor with a deeply respectful bow, only waved a careless "adieu" to the district commissioner, and withdrew.
"He is put out with you about something or other," remarked the governor to his companion.
"Yes, he snapped, didn't he, like a puppy when you tread on his tail."
But just then, in came the secretary with despatches that had just arrived by the last post.
"One for you as well, worshipful sir," said the secretary to the district commissioner. "Shall I send it into your office, or will you have it here, seeing it is marked 'personal.'"
"All right. Give it me here, please," was the careless answer.
And the light-hearted official broke the seal and began to read the missive, stretched at ease in his chair.
But he did not remain so, for hardly had he perused its contents than he got up, and his face grew suddenly pale under its cosmetic.
"Be kind enough to read that," he stammered, embarrassed, "the Emperor writes an autograph letter to summon me to Vienna, and I am dismissed from my post as district commissioner."
"And in my despatch your successor is already nominated."