Salmoros noted his agitation, and for a long time, did not press him with any very direct conversation. He talked of music, of which he was a great connoisseur, and presently he found that this subject drew the young man out of his perturbed thoughts.
By the time the meal was finished, Corsini was almost his normal self. The animated discussions over different composers, in which each disputant defended his opinions warmly, had driven for a time into the background the personal events of the last few days.
“We shall never agree about Russia,” remarked the Baron at the end of this artistic conference. “Now, we have had quite a long argument and the subject is very absorbing to both of us. Let us talk of something a little nearer home. The Signor Corsini I sent out to Russia in the nature of a speculation is now Count Corsini, a member of the nobility of the Russian Empire. Have you reflected over these facts and to what extent they are going to influence your future?”
Nello answered candidly. “For the last few days, Baron, I seem to have been living in a world of dreams. I never sought adventure, but through you—no, I must not forget dear old Papa Péron, he was the origin of all this—adventure has come to me.”
At the mention of Péron’s name, Salmoros lifted his glass and spoke in a voice of emotion.
“To the memory of my dear old friend and comrade, who had a heart of gold. Ah, why did he choose to die in that miserable garret, when he knew I was so near? What misplaced pride!”
“He had the artistic temperament, Baron, but he was never a man of the world. He would give, but he blushed to take,” was Nello’s answer. “Well, you have asked me for my ideas as to the future. Candidly, I have not yet formulated any, except as regards in one direction. For one thing I would prefer not to remain in Russia.”
The Baron smiled his quiet and comprehending smile. “There I think I am with you. A charming place for a brief visit, but for a prolonged residence, certainly not.”
Corsini went on. “I love England and its free ways. Here there is too much intrigue. I propose, when certain things are settled, to return to England. The Emperor has kindly said that if I wish it the directorship of the Imperial Opera is mine for life. It is a fine post and I fully appreciate the compliment. But——”
Salmoros interrupted him. “I quite understand. You would sooner play your violin at the Floral Hall in London than conduct the Imperial Opera in this city of St. Petersburg, honeycombed with spies, traitors, and actual or potential assassins?”