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and showed the threadbare nature of his clothes and the thinness of
his brown hands； with their long forgers and nails yellow from
tobacco。 Seeing me he came up the steps again； and raised his hat。
〃I am glad to have caught you； please forget all that。〃 I asked if
he would do me the honour of dining at my hotel。
〃Dine？〃 he repeated with the sort of smile a child gives if you offer
him a box of soldiers； 〃with the greatest pleasure。 I seldom dine
out； but I think I can muster up a coat。 Yesyesand at what time
shall I come？ At half…past seven； and your hotel is？ Good！ I
shall be there。 Freda； mia cara； you will be alone this evening。
You do not smoke caporal； I fear。 I find it fairly good； though it
has too much bite。〃 He walked off with Freda； puffing at his thin
roll of caporal。
Once or twice he stopped； as if bewildered or beset by some sudden
doubt or memory； and every time he stopped； Freda licked his hand。
They disappeared round the corner of the street； and I went to my
hotel to see about dinner。 On the way I met Jules le Ferrier； and
asked him to come too。
〃My faith； yes！〃 he said； with the rosy pessimism characteristic of
the French editor。 〃Man must dine！〃
At half…past six we assembled。 My 〃Cosmopolitan〃 was in an old
frock…coat braided round the edges； buttoned high and tight； defining
more than ever the sharp lines of his shoulders and the slight kink
of his back； he had brought with him； too； a dark…peaked cap of
military shape； which he had evidently selected as more fitting to
the coat than a straw hat。 He smelled slightly of some herb。
We sat down to dinner； and did not rise for two hours。 He was a
charming guest； praised everything he atenot with commonplaces； but
in words that made you feel it had given him real pleasure。 At
first； whenever Jules made one of his caustic remarks； he looked
quite pained； but suddenly seemed to make up his mind that it was
bark； not bite； and then at each of them he would turn to me and say；
〃Aha！ that's goodisn't it？〃 With every glass of wine he became
more gentle and more genial； sitting very upright； and tightly
buttoned…in； while the little white wings of his moustache seemed
about to leave him for a better world。
In spite of the most leading questions； however； we could not get him
to talk about himself； for even Jules； most cynical of men； had
recognised that he was a hero of romance。 He would answer gently and
precisely； and then sit twisting his moustaches； perfectly
unconscious that we wanted more。 Presently； as the wine went a
little to his head； his thin； high voice grew thinner； his cheeks
became flushed； his eyes brighter； at the end of dinner he said： 〃I
hope I have not been noisy。〃
We assured him that he had not been noisy enough。 〃You're laughing
at me；〃 he answered。 〃Surely I've been talking all the time！〃
〃Mon Dieu！〃 said Jules； 〃we have been looking for some fables of your
wars； but nothingnothing； not enough to feed a frog！〃
The old fellow looked troubled。
〃To be sure！〃 he mused。 〃Let me think！ there is that about Colhoun
at Gettysburg； and there's the story of Garibaldi and the Miller。〃
He plunged into a tale； not at all about himself； which would have
been extremely dull； but for the conviction in his eyes； and the way
he stopped and commented。 〃So you see；〃 he ended； 〃that's the sort
of man Garibaldi was！ I could tell you another tale of him。〃
Catching an introspective look in Jules's eye； however； I proposed
taking our cigars over to the cafe opposite。
〃Delightful！〃 the old fellow said： 〃We shall have a band and the
fresh air； and clear consciences for our cigars。 I cannot like this
smoking in a room where there are ladies dining。〃
He walked out in front of us； smoking with an air of great enjoyment。
Jules； glowing above his candid shirt and waistcoat； whispered to me；
〃Mon cher Georges； how he is good！〃 then sighed； and added darkly：
〃The poor man！〃
We sat down at a little table。 Close by； the branches of a plane…
tree rustled faintly； their leaves hung lifeless； speckled like the
breasts of birds； or black against the sky； then； caught by the
breeze； fluttered suddenly。
The old fellow sat； with head thrown back； a smile on his face；
coming now and then out of his enchanted dreams to drink coffee；
answer our questions； or hum the tune that the band was playing。 The
ash of his cigar grew very long。 One of those bizarre figures in
Oriental garb； who； night after night； offer their doubtful wares at
a great price； appeared in the white glare of a lamp； looked with a
furtive smile at his face； and glided back； discomfited by its
unconsciousness。 It was a night for dreams！ A faint； half…eastern
scent in the air； of black tobacco and spice； few people as yet at
the little tables； the waiters leisurely； the band soft！ What was he
dreaming of； that old fellow； whose cigar…ash grew so long？ Of
youth； of his battles； of those things that must be done by those who
try to be gentlemen； perhaps only of his dinner； anyway of something
gilded in vague fashion as the light was gilding the branches of the
plane…tree。
Jules pulled my sleeve： 〃He sleeps。〃 He had smilingly dropped off；
the cigar…ashthat feathery tower of his dreamshad broken and
fallen on his sleeve。 He awoke； and fell to dusting it。
The little tables round us began to fill。 One of the bandsmen played
a czardas on the czymbal。 Two young Frenchmen； talking loudly； sat
down at the adjoining table。 They were discussing the lady who had
been at the concert that afternoon。
〃It's a bet；〃 said one of them； 〃but there's the present man。 I take
three weeks； that's enough elle est declassee； ce n'est que le
premier pas'
My old friend's cigar fell on the table。 〃Monsieur；〃 he stammered；
〃you speak of a lady so； in a public place？〃
The young man stared at him。 〃Who is this person？〃 he said to his
companion。
My guest took up Jules's glove that lay on the table； before either
of us could raise a finger； he had swung it in the speaker's face。
〃Enough！〃 he said； and； dropping the glove； walked away。
We all jumped to our feet。 I left Jules and hurried after him。 His
face was grim； his eyes those of a creature who has been struck on a
raw place。 He made a movement of his fingers which said plainly。
〃Leave me； if you please！〃
I went back to the cafe。 The two young men had disappeared； so had
Jules； but everything else was going on just as before； the bandsman
still twanging out his czardas； the waiters serving drinks； the
orientals trying to sell their carpets。 I paid the bill； sought out
the manager； and apologised。 He shrugged his shoulders； smiled and
said： 〃An eccentric； your friend； nicht wahr？〃 Could he tell me
where M。 Le Ferrier was？ He could not。 I left to look for Jules；
could not find him； and returned to my hotel disgusted。 I was sorry
for my old gue