The Poacher; Or, Joseph Rushbrook

“Why, I hardly know. I wish I knew what he wishes me to say, for he is a gentleman whom I am very fond of, and that’s the truth; perhaps you can tell me?”

“Why, yes, I know a good deal about him, that’s certain. As for his family, there’s not a better in Ireland or England, for he’s royal if he had his right.”

“What!” exclaimed Dimitri.

“As sure as I’m sitting in this old arm-chair, didn’t he bring letters from the brother of the present king? does that go for nothing in this country of yours? or do you value men by the length of their beards?”

“Men are valued here not by their titles, but by their rank as officers. A general is a greater man than a prince,” replied Dimitri.

“With all my heart, for then I’m somebody,” replied McShane.

“You?” replied the courier.

“I mean my master,” returned McShane, correcting himself; “for he’s an officer, and a good one, too.”

“Yes, that may be; but you said yourself,” replied the courier, laughing. “My good friend, a valet to any one in Petersburg is no better than one of the mujiks who work in the streets. Well, I know that our master is an officer, and of high rank; as for his political opinions, I have never heard him express any, except his admiration of the city, and of course of the emperor.”

“Most decidedly; and of the empress also,” replied McShane.

“That is not at all necessary,” continued Dimitri, laughing. “In fact, he has no business to admire the empress.”

“But he admires the government and the laws,” said McShane; “and you may add, my good fellow—the army and the navy—by the powers, he’s all admiration, all over!—you may take my word for it.”

“Well, I will do so; but then there is one other question to reply to, which is, why did he come here? what is his business?”

“To look about him, to be sure; to spend his money like a gentleman; to give his letters of introduction; and to amuse himself,” replied McShane. “But this is dry talking, so, Dimitri, order a bottle of champagne, and then we’ll wet our whistle before we go on.”

“Champagne! will your master stand that?” inquired Dimitri.

“Stand it? to be sure, and he’d be very angry if he thought I did not make myself comfortable. Tell them to put it down in the bill for me; if they doubt the propriety, let them ask my master.”

Dimitri went and ordered the champagne. As soon as they had a glass, Dimitri observed, “Your master is a fine liberal fellow, and I would serve him to the last day of my life; but you see that the reasons you give for your master being here are the same as are given by everybody else, whether they come as spies or secret emissaries, or to foment insurrection; that answer, therefore, is considered as no answer at all by the police (although very often a true one), and they will try to find out whether it is so or not.”

“What other cause can a gentleman like him have for coming here? He is not going to dirty his hands with speculation, information, or any other botheration,” replied McShane, tossing off his glass.

“I don’t say so; but his having letters from the king’s brother will be considered suspicious.”

“The devil it will. Now in our country that would only create a suspicion that he was a real gentleman—that’s all.”

“You don’t understand this country,” replied Dimitri.

“No, it beats my comprehension entirely, and that’s a fact; so fill up your glass. I hope it’s not treason; but if it is, I can’t help saying it. My good friend Dimitri—”

“Stop,” said Dimitri, rising and shutting the door, “now, what is it?”

“Why, just this; I haven’t seen one good-looking woman since I’ve been in this good-looking town of yours; now, that’s the truth.”

“There’s more truth than treason in that,” replied the courier; “but still there are some beautiful women among the higher classes.”

“It’s to be hoped so; for they’ve left no beauty for the lower, at all events.”

“We have very beautiful women in Poland,” said the courier.

“Why don’t you bring a few here, then?”

“There are a great many Polish ladies in Petersburg at this moment.”

“Then go down and order another bottle,” said McShane, “and we’ll drink their healths.”

The second bottle was finished, and McShane, who had been drinking before, became less cautious.

“You said,” observed he, “that you have many Polish ladies in Petersburg; did you ever hear of a Princess Czartowinky?—I think that’s the name.”

“Czartorinski, you mean,” replied Dimitri; “to be sure I did; I served in the family some years ago, when the old prince was alive. But where did you see her?”

“In England, to be sure.”

“Well, that’s probable, for she has just returned from travelling with her uncle.”

“Is she now in Petersburg, my good fellow?”

“I believe she is—but why do wish to know?”

“Merely asked—that’s all.”

“Now, Macshanovich,”—for such was the familiar way in which Dimitri addressed his supposed brother-servant—“I suspect this Princess Czartorinski is some way connected with your master’s coming here. Tell me the truth—is such the case? I’m sure it is.”

“Then you know more than I do,” replied McShane, correcting himself, “for I’m not exactly in my master’s secrets; all that I do know is, that my master met her in England, and I thought her very handsome.”

“And so did he?”

“That’s as may be; between ourselves, I’ve an idea he was a little smitten in that quarter; but that’s only my own opinion, nothing more.”

“Has he ever spoken about her since you were here?” said Dimitri.

“Just once, as I handed his waistcoat to him; he said—‘I wonder if all the ladies are as handsome as that Polish princess that we met in Cumberland?’”

“If I thought he wished it, or cared for her, I would make inquiry, and soon find out all about her; but otherwise, it’s no use taking the trouble,” replied the courier.

“Well, then, will you give me your hand, and promise to serve faithfully, if I tell you all I know about the matter?”

“By the blessed Saint Nicholas, I do!” replied Dimitri; “you may trust me.”

“Well, then, it’s my opinion that my master’s over head and ears in love with her, and has come here for no other purpose.”

“Well, I’m glad you told me that; it will satisfy the police.”

“The police; why murder and Irish! you’re not going to inform the police, you villain?”