One day, Von Sempach found the professor busily writing in his room.
“Are you taking notes, Edward?”
“I am collecting important Russian items to send to Bolanden, that he may use them for the good of the German people, and for the benefit of other nations, who do not desire to be governed according to the Russian mode.”
“I protest against it,” replied Von Sempach. “I have no desire to figure in a novel.”
“Do not excite yourself, my dear Adolph! Bolanden will change our names, and perhaps call the gentleman from Berlin Schulze. How is Alexandra?”
The young man sighed heavily, and seemed greatly distressed.
“I wish that I had never known her!” said he; “for I can tell you, in confidence, that a deformed soul dwells in her beautiful body. Her pride is insufferable, her want of feeling repulsive; in fact, she is utterly devoid of those amiable qualities of heart and mind which a woman must possess in order to make a happy home.”
“She is the child of a Russian governor, who, by means of the pleti and Siberia, keeps in subjection the serfs of the divine emperor,” replied Beck. “I told Schulze and the governor my real opinion in regard to the decayed condition of the empire of the czar, and yet I was very temperate in my language; I should have added that Almighty God also is the arbiter of nations, and suffers the continuance of Russian barbarities only to show how deeply empires can sink, and how wicked men can become, when an emperor has unlimited command in church and state. The same result will take place in Germany, if she takes Russia as her model.”
“I hope you will not use such expressions before Rasumowski,” said Adolph warningly.
“No; we must not cast the pearls of truth before swine, for they would perhaps attack us with their Cossacks and the pleti!”