The tobacconist hastily produced his best cigarettes and entreated the Consul to try one, making signs to the other occupants of the shop to return to their occupations in the inner room.
"How long have you known Count Skariatine ?" inquired the Consul, carelessly, when he was alone with Fischelowitz.
"Six or seven years," answered the latter.
"I suppose you know his story?
Your wife was good enough to inform us of that fact, though Doctor Grabofsky has reason to doubt the value of her information." "We only know that he calls himself a Count." Fischelowitz held the authorities of his native country in holy awe, and was almost frightened out of his senses at being thus questioned by the Consul.
"He is quite at liberty to do so," answered the latter with a laugh.

"The story is simple enough," he continued, "and there is no reason why you should not know it.

The late Count Skariatine had two sons, of whom the present Count was the younger.

Ten years ago, when barely twenty, he quarrelled with his father and elder brother, and they parted in anger.

I must say that he seems to have acted hastily, though the old gentleman's views of life were eccentric, to say the least of it.