The concierge and
the stay-at-homes used to listen to him with all the respect due to a
foreign gentleman, knowing much of the great outside world with which
they were not familiar.
"The Cossacks will adjust the accounts of these bandits!" he would
conclude with absolute assurance. "Within a month they will have entered
Berlin."
And his public composed of women--wives and mothers of those who had
gone to war--would modestly agree with him, with that irresistible
desire which we all feel of placing our hopes on something distant and
mysterious. The French would defend the country, reconquering, besides
the lost territories, but the Cossacks--of whom so many were speaking
but so few had seen--were going to give the death blow. The only
person who knew them at first hand was Tchernoff, and to Argensola's
astonishment, he listened to his words without showing any enthusiasm.
The Cossacks were for him simply one body of the Russian army--good
enough soldiers, but incapable of working the miracles that everybody
was expecting from them.
"That Tchernoff!" exclaimed Argensola. "Since he hates the Czar, he
thinks the entire country mad. He is a revolutionary fanatic. . . . And
I am opposed to all fanaticisms."
Julio was listening absent-mindedly to the news brought by his
companion, the vibrating statements recited in declamatory tones, the
plans of the campaign traced out on an enormous map fastened to the wall
of the studio and bristling with tiny flags that marked the camps of the
belligerent armies.
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