"Ach, himmel!" said he, nodding to Ashton-Kirk, whose eye he happened to catch, "some the sense of humor have not. As for me, always do I laugh, whether the joke is on me or not."
"You are to be envied," replied the secret agent.
The little man cocked his eye at Matsadi in a most knowing manner.
"I have heard it said, 'That the race is not always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong,'" he said. "Was it a psalmist, a prophet or a poet of our own time who so spoke? But no matter, it is very good--but not complete. One might add 'That the reward is not always to the industrious.'"
Observing that he was being spoken to, the Japanese leaned forward.
"I beg your pardon?" said he, inquiringly.
"There is philosophy in the wine," observed the German, and he added to the luster of his brilliant scalp by rubbing it with a handkerchief. "And with me its wisdom stays upon the tongue."
The other laughed and quivered with all his round little body.
"Good," said he. "I was in hopes that you would wake up." Then he went on in a sort of musing tone, but with dancing eyes: "Many a man has toiled early and late to make a plant fruitful; and the result of his work is that some idle one, who laughs and drinks and snaps his fingers at labor, has the ripened fruit fall into his lap."
Matsadi seemed not to grasp the meaning of this; at any rate he smiled in a vague sort of way and contented himself with nodding his head. Very little passed between them after this, as the Japanese had his attention taken by the lady beside him; but later, in the coat room, Ashton-Kirk heard him say to the German:
"Your simile of the industrious planter and the vagabond was a very excellent one. And it frequently happens so. I was much struck with it."
A young man, wearing a number of Austrian orders, said, as he was being helped on with his coat:
"Are you going on to Von Stunnenberg's, Matsadi? Perhaps I could give you a lift."
"Thank you," said the Japanese. "Yes, I had thought of going."
"I'll wait for you," said the other, as he went out.
Matsadi took up his gloves and hat; he paused before the laughing German.
"Yes," said he, and there was a thoughtful look upon his face, "your parable was a good one. But does the story always end so? As the idle one lifts the fruit to his greedy lips, do I not see the patient toiler reaching out to snatch it from him?"