A Dangerous Climate
was the way of it," Saint-Germain said, reminding himself of the clandestine meeting to which Augustus summoned him, and his first introduction to Zozia, seven months earlier. In spite of Augustus' conviction that this imposture would be successful, Saint-Germain had reservations, and they were still with him.
     
"You just came to Sankt Piterburkh, no questions, no problems?"
     
"Well, I had to find a capable steward and a manager for my estates, and fortunately I have a man I can truly rely on to handle them for me," said Saint-Germain, faintly amused because this much was true, but his estates were not at Gyor, but farther to the east, in the Carpathians, in the region of Hungary called Transylvania.
     
"Then Augustus has much to be grateful for in you and your wife," said Nyland, now making no attempt to conceal his dubiety.
     
"If it falls out that way, well and good," said Saint-Germain, ceasing to lean against the balustrade. "I have just seen Colonel Sir Peregrine Broughton; I need to have a word with him, and this may be my best opportunity. If you will excuse me?" It was true enough that he wanted to talk with Broughton, but the matter was not so urgent that he had to attend to it this instant--still, it gave him an excuse to leave Nyland to his own devices, and at present, that was the major advantage for him.
     
"More English!" the Dane deplored, waving Saint-Germain away.
     
"And Scots and Irish," Saint-Germain added as he made his way toward the terrace door, speaking politely to any guest who signaled for his attention. He reached the doorway and bowed to Colonel Broughton. "Colonel Broughton."
     
"Duke Gyor," Colonel Broughton said, returning the bow; his dress regimentals were slightly mussed, and his wig a bit askew; his square jaw was set at a more pugnacious angle than usual and his speech was overly crisp. "I had hoped I would find you here." He squinted up at the pale sky. "Doesn't this long twilight bother you? I know I find it most disorienting. It should have been dark two hours ago."
     
"It is inconvenient," Saint-Germain agreed, matching his English to Colonel Broughton's. "I, too, prefer nights to be dark."
     
"Better than north of here, where the sun stays up all night long." He shook his head in disapproval.
     
"And stays below the horizon in the middle of winter."
     
"True--another hindrance. Still, I would imagine one becomes accustomed." Colonel Broughton, who was drinking Riesling, and had been doing so for a while, stopped himself from emptying his glass. "I don't want to stagger about the way these Russians do; makes one a trifle obvious to thieves, to say nothing of the--" He stopped and went on more measuredly. "I'm a foreigner here, like you, and your recent mishaps are a reminder that one needs to remain vigilant. Someone gone in drink could easily be lured into a trap, and worse." He paused, clearly organizing his thoughts. "After our conversation three days ago, I've given the matter some consideration, and it seems to me that if you want to discover if your treadmill-pump can beadapted to our uses on the barges, the one you should speak to is Mungo Laurie--he's the chief engineer on the dredging project--obviously a Scot. Good man--steady, hard-working, not one to be put off by dealing with foreigners. I can send him along to you one of these mornings, if that's to your liking. Just tell me which days will suit you best and I'll find out which he can most readily accommodate." He finished his wine and signaled one of the two English servants for another. "Slovenly fellows, Russian servants. At least the Resident has a few English with him."
     
"It is a practical solution, I suppose, on all fronts." Saint-Germain wondered how much of what he was saying Broughton would recall in the morning.
     
"Well, yes--from what you told me, you have your manservant with you, and your wife has three maids and you both have coachmen, which ensures your comfort and the advantages of habit,

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