That the man was present with his own face was
bewildering enough, but that he should be here under his own name was
simply astounding. I scarcely heard what the president said. It seemed
to the effect that Simard would take me to his own room, where we
might talk over our plans. And now Simard rose again from his chair,
and said to the president that if nothing more were wanted of him, we
should go. Accordingly we left the place of meeting together. I
watched my comrade narrowly. There was now a trembling eagerness in
his action, and without a word he hurried me to the nearest cafe,
where we sat down before a little iron table on the pavement.
'Garcon!' he shouted harshly, 'bring me four absinthes. What will you
drink, Ducharme?',
'A cafe-cognac, if you please.'
'Bah!' cried Simard; 'better have absinthe.'
Then he cursed the waiter for his slowness. When the absinthe came he
grasped the half-full glass and swallowed the liquid raw, a thing I
had never seen done before. Into the next measure of the wormwood he
poured the water impetuously from the carafe, another thing I had
never seen done before, and dropped two lumps of sugar into it. Over
the third glass he placed a flat perforated plated spoon, piled the
sugar on this bridge, and now quite expertly allowed the water to drip
through, the proper way of concocting this seductive mixture.
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