venture, and who knows where it will lead? He has conviction and the desire of most of the Hungarian people on his side; the Hapsburgs have wealth, soldiers, and weapons." He paused, for once glad of having Arpad Arco-Tolvay to act as concealment. "I have no direct connection with either the Hapsburgs or the opposing Hungarians."
"I'm relieved to hear that," said von Altenburg. "I know such matters can become difficult when one is abroad."
"As you say," Saint-Germain said, giving another incline of his head to show his agreement.
Carrying a tray with the bread, salt, wine, and wineglass upon it, Hroger came to von Altenburg's side. "Graf? If you would honor this house?"
Startled, von Altenburg turned and stared at the tray. "Oh, yes. Very nice. Very nice." He took a pinch of bread, dipped it in the salt, and popped it into his mouth, chewing emphatically. Then he poured himself a glass of the Tokay, and held it up toward the window. "Like sunlight, isn't it?" He saluted Saint-Germain with it. "Won't you join me, Herzog?"
"No, thank you; I do not drink wine."
"Humph," said von Altenburg. "Well, to your recovery, then." He drank and smiled his approval. "An amazing vintage. Are you sure you won't have some?"
"Quite sure, thank you," said Saint-Germain.
"It is regrettable that you have had to keep to your bed this past week."
"Regrettable in what way?" Saint-Germain asked, knowing it was expected of him. "Beyond the inconvenience, of course."
"It has been a most exciting week; we actually held a small ball in the house of the English Resident. I'm sorry you missed it," von Altenburg continued, all affability.
"No more so than I," Saint-Germain assured him.
"What?" He stared at his host, then chuckled. "Oh, I see. Yes, undoubtedly you are more sorry than I for the cause." He glanced at Hroger. "You may remove the bread and salt. I'll keep the wine."
"Then I'll light the fire in the stove," said Hroger, picking up the basket and saucer, and retreating to the end of the room, where he busied himself with stoking and lighting the stove.
"I'm glad you find the wine to your taste," said Saint-Germain.
"It is most satisfying." After taking another generous sip, he went on, "Undoubtedly, you are behind on the news of the town. You will want to know that a ship has arrived from England--hence the occasion for the ball--with a number of engineers from Scotland, and two English shipwrights among the passengers aboard. They're assigned to housing on the edge of the Foreign Quarter, out where the working-men's supervisors' houses are. I was very much surprised to learn that the ship encountered little ice on its journey, and has been able to anchor out in the mouth of the Neva."
"Most interesting. But then, English ships are famous for their sturdiness, accustomed as the English are to building for hard weather." He studied von Altenburg with what seemed nothing more than mild curiosity. "What do you make of their coming?"
"Nothing much. The Czar is going to put them to work, of course; everyone is put to work here, one way or another. They say his deputy will arrive in the next few days, to see that the work continues to progress while the Czar is away. Most of the new arrivals will remain here, but some will go to the army to fight the Swedes." He shook his head ponderously. "Damnable business, this war between Russia and Sweden. Not going too well for the Czar."
"I doubt Piotyr Alexeievich would agree. So far he has gained more than he has lost, or so I understand." Saint-Germain waved his hand toward the window. "This place, for example, was in Swedish hands until recently."
"True, true, and the Swedes failed to reclaim it last summer," said von Altenburg. "Yet it is far from over. The day may yet come when the Czar will lose this miserable marsh once again."
"I doubt that. Piotyr Alexeievich has too many plans for his city to give it up."
"That might not
"I'm relieved to hear that," said von Altenburg. "I know such matters can become difficult when one is abroad."
"As you say," Saint-Germain said, giving another incline of his head to show his agreement.
Carrying a tray with the bread, salt, wine, and wineglass upon it, Hroger came to von Altenburg's side. "Graf? If you would honor this house?"
Startled, von Altenburg turned and stared at the tray. "Oh, yes. Very nice. Very nice." He took a pinch of bread, dipped it in the salt, and popped it into his mouth, chewing emphatically. Then he poured himself a glass of the Tokay, and held it up toward the window. "Like sunlight, isn't it?" He saluted Saint-Germain with it. "Won't you join me, Herzog?"
"No, thank you; I do not drink wine."
"Humph," said von Altenburg. "Well, to your recovery, then." He drank and smiled his approval. "An amazing vintage. Are you sure you won't have some?"
"Quite sure, thank you," said Saint-Germain.
"It is regrettable that you have had to keep to your bed this past week."
"Regrettable in what way?" Saint-Germain asked, knowing it was expected of him. "Beyond the inconvenience, of course."
"It has been a most exciting week; we actually held a small ball in the house of the English Resident. I'm sorry you missed it," von Altenburg continued, all affability.
"No more so than I," Saint-Germain assured him.
"What?" He stared at his host, then chuckled. "Oh, I see. Yes, undoubtedly you are more sorry than I for the cause." He glanced at Hroger. "You may remove the bread and salt. I'll keep the wine."
"Then I'll light the fire in the stove," said Hroger, picking up the basket and saucer, and retreating to the end of the room, where he busied himself with stoking and lighting the stove.
"I'm glad you find the wine to your taste," said Saint-Germain.
"It is most satisfying." After taking another generous sip, he went on, "Undoubtedly, you are behind on the news of the town. You will want to know that a ship has arrived from England--hence the occasion for the ball--with a number of engineers from Scotland, and two English shipwrights among the passengers aboard. They're assigned to housing on the edge of the Foreign Quarter, out where the working-men's supervisors' houses are. I was very much surprised to learn that the ship encountered little ice on its journey, and has been able to anchor out in the mouth of the Neva."
"Most interesting. But then, English ships are famous for their sturdiness, accustomed as the English are to building for hard weather." He studied von Altenburg with what seemed nothing more than mild curiosity. "What do you make of their coming?"
"Nothing much. The Czar is going to put them to work, of course; everyone is put to work here, one way or another. They say his deputy will arrive in the next few days, to see that the work continues to progress while the Czar is away. Most of the new arrivals will remain here, but some will go to the army to fight the Swedes." He shook his head ponderously. "Damnable business, this war between Russia and Sweden. Not going too well for the Czar."
"I doubt Piotyr Alexeievich would agree. So far he has gained more than he has lost, or so I understand." Saint-Germain waved his hand toward the window. "This place, for example, was in Swedish hands until recently."
"True, true, and the Swedes failed to reclaim it last summer," said von Altenburg. "Yet it is far from over. The day may yet come when the Czar will lose this miserable marsh once again."
"I doubt that. Piotyr Alexeievich has too many plans for his city to give it up."
"That might not
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