"Now tell us something about the capital, my dear fellow? Have you been to the National Theatre and seen the latest comedy there?" "I had no leisure," said Ráby drily, "to go to the theatre, and see what the comedies were like. You will have more time for that probably than I shall." Which retort surprised the worthy district commissioner not a little. Then Mathias Ráby turned to the governor with a deeply respectful bow, only waved a careless "adieu" to the district commissioner, and withdrew. "He is put out with you about something or other," remarked the governor to his companion. "Yes, he snapped, didn't he, like a puppy when you tread on his tail." But just then, in came the secretary with despatches that had just arrived by the last post. "One for you as well, worshipful sir," said the secretary to the district commissioner. "Shall I send it into your office, or will you have it here, seeing it is marked 'personal.'" "All right. Give it me here, please," was the careless answer. And the light-hearted official broke the seal and began to read the missive, stretched at ease in his chair. But he did not remain so, for hardly had he perused its contents than he got up, and his face grew suddenly pale under its cosmetic. "Be kind enough to read that," he stammered, embarrassed, "the Emperor writes an autograph letter to summon me to Vienna, and I am dismissed from my post as district commissioner." "And in my despatch your successor is already nominated." "I do not understand it." "But I do. Now, my friend, you will have time to judge for yourself what the comedy at the National Theatre is like." The ex-official pressed his hand to his brow. But as his Excellency took a pinch of snuff he said drily: "It is not a puppy who snaps, but a big dog who can bite when he wants to. And he has flown at you, my friend, that's clear." CHAPTER XXIV. It was horribly hot and depressing at the "White Wolf" at Pesth, where Ráby had elected to stay. The atmosphere was mephitic and close, and in the dusty inn parlour the flies swarmed uncomfortably, while outside it was horribly dusty, as it is even to-day. No wonder Ráby was glad to get out of it, and elected to take a stroll in the direction of the wood outside the city, his head full of many conflicting thoughts. Certainly, his plans for bettering the people were prospering. The Emperor had recalled the easy-going district commissioner in consequence of Ráby's representations, and had appointed to the post an able and strenuous, yet cold and reserved man, a wealthy landlord, who undertook the office on account of the honour it conferred on its holder. Perhaps what best qualified him for the post was, that he was not on intimate terms with anyone in the neighbourhood.