CHAPTER XXXI
THE CAFE DES BULGARS
Their adieux to Fifi and Nini were elaborate and complicated by burstsof laughter. The Tziganes recommended Captain Sengoun to go home andseek further adventures on his pillow; and had it not been for the gaybabble of the fountain and the persistent perfume of flowers, he mighthave followed their advice.
It was after the two young men had left the Jardin Russe that CaptainSengoun positively but affectionately refused to relinquish possessionof Neeland's arm.
"Dear friend," he explained, "I am just waking up and I do not wish togo to bed for days and days."
"But I do," returned Neeland, laughing. "Where do you want to go now,Prince Erlik?"
The champagne was singing loudly in the Cossack's handsome head; thedistant brilliancy beyond the Place de la Concorde riveted his rovingeyes.
"Over there," he said joyously. "Listen, old fellow, I'll teach youthe skating step as we cross the Place! Then, in the first _Bal_, youshall try it on the fairest form since Helen fell and Troy burned--orTroy fell and Helen burned--it's all the same, old fellow--what youcall fifty-fifty, eh?"
Neeland tried to free his arm--to excuse himself; two policemenlaughed; but Sengoun, linking his arm more firmly in Neeland's,crossed the Place in a series of Dutch rolls and outer edges, in whichNeeland was compelled to join. The Russian was as light and gracefulon his feet as one of the dancers of his own country; Neeland'sknowledge of skating aided his own less agile steps. There wassympathetic applause from passing taxis and _fiacres_; and they might,apparently, have had any number of fair partners for the asking, alongthe way, except for Sengoun's headlong dive toward the brightest ofthe boulevard lights beyond.
In the rue Royal, however, Sengoun desisted with sudden access ofdignity, remarking that such gambols were not worthy of the besttraditions of his Embassy; and he attempted to bribe the drivers of acouple of hansom cabs to permit him and his comrade to take the reinsand race to the Arc de Triomphe.
Failing in this, he became profusely autobiographical, informingNeeland of his birth, education, aims, aspirations.
"When I was twelve," he said, "I had known already the happiness ofthe battle-shock against Kurd, Mongol, and Tartar. At eighteen myambition was to slap the faces of three human monsters. I toldeverybody that I was making arrangements to do this, and I started forBrusa after my first monster--Fehim Effendi--but the Vali telegraphedto the Grand Vizier, and the Grand Vizier ran to Abdul the Damned, andAbdul yelled for Sir Nicholas O'Connor; and they caught me in the PeraPalace and handed me over to my Embassy."
Neeland shouted with laughter:
"Who were the other monsters?" he asked.
"The other two whose countenances I desired to slap? Oh, one was AbdulHouda, the Sultan's star-reader, who chattered about my Dark Starhoroscope in the Yildiz. And the other was the Sultan."
"Who?"
"Abdul Hamid."
"What? You wished to slap _his_ face?"
"Certainly. But Kutchuk Said and Kiamil Pasha requested me notto--accompanied by gendarmes."
"You'd have lost your life," remarked Neeland.
"Yes. But then war would surely have come, and today my Emperor wouldhave held the Dardanelles where the Turkish flag is now flying overGerman guns and German gunners."
He shook his head:
"Great mistake on my part," he muttered. "Should have pulled Abdul'slop ears. Now, everything in Turkey is 'Yasak' except what Germans doand say; and God knows we are farther than ever from St. Sophia....I'm very thirsty with thinking so much, old fellow. Did you ever drinkGerman champagne?"
"I believe not----"
"Come on, then. You shall drink several gallons and never feel it.It's the only thing German I could ever swallow."
"Prince Erlik, you have had considerable refreshment already."
"_Copain, t'en fais pas!_"
The spectacle of two young fellows in evening dress, in a friendlytug-of-war under the lamp-posts of the Boulevard, amused the passingpopulace; and Sengoun, noticing this, was inclined to mount aboulevard bench and address the wayfarers, but Neeland pulled him downand persuaded him into a quieter street, the rue Vilna.
"There's a German place, now!" exclaimed Sengoun, delighted.
And Neeland, turning to look, perceived the illuminated sign of theCafe des Bulgars.
German champagne had now become Sengoun's fixed idea; nothing coulddissuade him from it, nothing persuade him into a homeward bound taxi.So Neeland, with a rather hazy idea that he ought not to do it,entered the cafe with Senguon; and they seated themselves on a leatherwall-lounge before one of the numerous marble-topped tables.
"Listen," he said in a low voice to his companion, "this is a Germancafe, and we must be careful what we say. I'm not any too prudent andI may forget this; but don't _you_!"
"Quite right, old fellow!" replied Sengoun, giving him an owlish look."I must never forget I'm a diplomat among these _sales Boches_----"
"Be careful, Sengoun! That expression is not diplomatic."
"Careful is the word, _mon vieux_," returned the other loudly andcheerfully. "I'll bet you a dollar, three kopeks, and two sous that Igo over there and kiss the cashier----"
"No! Be a real diplomat, Sengoun!"
"I'm sorry you feel that way, Neeland, because she's unusually pretty.And we might establish a triple entente until you find some ArgiveHelen to quadruple it. Aha! Here is our German champagne! Positivelythe only thing German a Russian can----"
"Listen! This won't do. People are looking at us----"
"Right, old fellow--always right! You know, Neeland, this friendshipof ours is the most precious, most delightful, and most inspiringexperience of my life. Here's a full goblet to our friendship! Hurrah!As for Enver Pasha, may Erlik seize him!"
After they had honoured the toast, Sengoun looked about himpleasantly, receptive, ready for any eventuality. And observing nosymptoms of any eventuality whatever, he suggested creating one.
"Dear comrade," he said, "I think I shall arise and make an incendiaryaddress----"
"No!"
"Very well, if you feel that way about it. But there is another way torender the evening agreeable. You see that sideboard?" he continued,pointing to a huge carved buffet piled to the ceiling with porcelainand crystal. "What will you wager that I can not push it over with onehand?"
But Neeland declined the wager with an impatient gesture, and kept hiseyes riveted on a man who had just entered the cafe. He could see onlythe stranger's well-groomed back, but when, a moment later, the manturned to seat himself, Neeland was not surprised to find himselflooking at Doc Curfoot.
"Sengoun," he said under his breath, "that _type_ who just came in isan American gambler named Doc Curfoot; and he is here with othergamblers for the purpose of obtaining political information for somegovernment other than my own."
Sengoun regarded the new arrival with amiable curiosity:
"That worm? Oh, well, every city in Europe swarms with such maggots,you know. It would be quite funny if he tries any blandishments on us,wouldn't it?"
"He may. He's a capper. He's looking at us now. I believe he remembershaving seen me in the train."
"As for an hour or two at chemin-de-fer, baccarat, or roulette,"remarked Sengoun, "I am not averse to a----"
"Watch him! The waiter who is taking his order may know who youare--may be telling that gambler.... I believe he _did_! Now, let ussee what happens...."
Sengoun, delighted at the prospect of an eventuality, blandly emptiedhis goblet and smiled generally upon everybody.
"I hope he will make our acquaintance and ask us to play," he said."I'm very lucky at chemin-de-fer. And if I lose I shall conclude thatthere is trickery. Which would make it very lively for everybody," headded with a boyish smile. But his dark eyes began to glitter and heshowed his beautiful, even teeth when he laughed.
"Ha!" he said. "A little what you call a mix-up might not come amiss!That gives one an appetite; that permits one to perspir
e; that doesgood to everybody and makes one sleep soundly! Shall we, as you say inAmerica, start something?"
Neeland, thinking of Ali-Baba and Golden Beard and of their undoubtedinstigation by telegraph of the morning's robbery, wondered whetherthe rendezvous of the robbers might not possibly be here in the Cafedes Bulgars.
The gang of Americans in the train had named Kestner, Breslau, andWeishelm--the one man of the gang whom he had never seen--asprospective partners in this enterprise.
Here, somewhere in this building, were their gambling headquarters.Was there any possible chance that the stolen box and its contentsmight have been brought here for temporary safety?
Might it not now be hidden somewhere in this very building by men toocunning to risk leaving the city when every train and every road wouldbe watched within an hour of the time that the robbery wascommitted?
Leaning back carelessly on the lounge and keeping his eyes on thepeople in the cafe, Neeland imparted these ideas to Sengoun in a lowvoice--told him everything he knew in regard to the affair, and askedhis opinion.
"My opinion," said Sengoun, who was enchanted at any prospect oftrouble, "is that this house is 'suspect' and is worth searching. Ofcourse the Prefect could be notified, arrangements made, and a searchby the secret police managed. But, Neeland, my friend, think of whatpleasure _we_ should be deprived!"
"How do you mean?"
"Why not search the place ourselves?"
"How?"
"Well, of course, we could be picturesque, go to my Embassy, and fillour pockets with automatic pistols, and come back here and--well, makethem stand around and see how high they could reach with both hands."
Neeland laughed.
"That would be a funny jest, wouldn't it?" said Sengoun.
"Very funny. But----" He nudged Sengoun and directed his attentiontoward the terrace outside, where waiters were already removing thelittle iron tables and the chairs, and the few lingering guests werecoming inside the cafe.
"I see," muttered Sengoun; "it is already Sunday morning, and they'reclosing. It's too late to go to the Embassy. They'd not let us in herewhen we returned."
Neeland summoned a waiter with a nod:
"When do you close up inside here?"
"Tomorrow being Sunday, the terrace closes now, monsieur; but the caferemains open all night," explained the waiter with a noticeable Germanaccent.
"Thank you." And, to Sengoun: "I'd certainly like to go upstairs. I'dlike to see what it looks like up there--take a glance around."
"Very well, let us go up----"
"We ought to have some excuse----"
"We'll think of several on the way," rising with alacrity, but Neelandpulled him back.
"Wait a moment! It would only mean a fight----"
"All fights," explained Sengoun seriously, "are agreeable--some moreso. So if you are ready, dear comrade----"
"But a row will do us no good----"
"Pardon, dear friend, I have been in serious need of one for an houror two----"
"I don't mean that sort of 'good,'" explained Neeland, laughing. "Imean that I wish to look about up there--explore----"
"Quite right, old fellow--always right! But--here's an idea! I couldstand at the head of the stairs and throw them down as they mounted,while you had leisure to look around for your stolen box----"
"My dear Prince Erlik, we've nothing to shoot with, and it's likelythey have. There's only one way to get upstairs with any chance oflearning anything useful. And that is to start a row betweenourselves." And, raising his voice as though irritated, he called forthe reckoning, adding in a tone perfectly audible to anybody in thevicinity that he knew where roulette was played, and that he was goingwhether or not his friend accompanied him.
Sengoun, delighted, recognised his cue and protested in loud, nasaltones that the house to which his comrade referred was suspected ofunfair play; and a noisy dispute began, listened to attentively by thepretty but brightly painted cashier, the waiters, the _gerant_, andevery guest in the neighbourhood.
"As for me," cried Sengoun, feigning to lose his temper, "I have nointention of being tricked. I was not born yesterday--not I! If thereis to be found an honest wheel in Paris that would suit me. Otherwise,I go home to bed!"
"It _is_ an honest wheel, I tell you----"
"It is not! I know that place!"
"Be reasonable----"
"Reasonable!" repeated Sengoun appealingly to the people around them."Permit me to ask these unusually intelligent gentlemen whether it isreasonable to play roulette in a place where the wheel is notoriouslycontrolled and the management a dishonest one! Could a gentleman beexpected to frequent or even to countenance places of evil repute?_Messieurs_, I await your verdict!" And he folded his armsdramatically.
Somebody said, from a neighbouring table:
"_Vous avez parfaitement raison, monsieur!_"
"I thank you," cried Sengoun, with an admirably dramatic bow."Therefore, I shall now go home to bed!"
Neeland, maintaining his gravity with difficulty, followed Sengountoward the door, still pretending to plead with him; and the _gerant_,a tall, blond, rosy and unmistakable German, stepped forward to unlockthe door.
As he laid his hand on the bolt he said in a whisper:
"If the gentlemen desire the privilege of an exclusive club whereeverything is unquestionably conducted----"
"Where?" demanded Neeland, abruptly.
"On the third floor, _monsieur_."
"Here?"
"Certainly, sir. If the gentlemen will honour me with their names, andwill be seated for one little moment, I shall see what can beaccomplished."
"Very well," said Sengoun, with a short, incredulous laugh. "I'mPrince Erlik, of the Mongol Embassy, and my comrade is Mr. Neeland,Consul General of the United States of America in the Grand Duchy ofGerolstein!"
The _gerant_ smiled. After he had gone away toward the further room inthe cafe, Neeland remarked to Sengoun that doubtless their real nameswere perfectly well known, and Sengoun disdainfully shrugged hisindifference:
"What can one expect in this dirty rat-nest of Europe? Abdul theDamned employed one hundred thousand spies in Constantinople alone!And William the Sudden admired him. Why, Neeland, _mon ami_, I nevertake a step in the streets without being absolutely certain that I amwatched and followed. What do I care! Except that towns make me sick.But the only cure is a Khirgiz horse and a thousand lances. God sendthem. I'm sick of cities."
A few moments later the _gerant_ returned and, in a low voice,requested them to accompany him.
They passed leisurely through the cafe, between tables where loweredeyes seemed to deny any curiosity; but guests and waiters looked afterthem after they had passed, and here and there people whisperedtogether--particularly two men who had followed them from thesun-dial fountain in the rue Soleil d'Or to the Jardin Russe, acrossthe Place de la Concorde, and into the Cafe des Bulgars in the rueVilna.
On the stairs Neeland heard Sengoun still muttering to himself:
"Certainly I am sick of cities and narrow strips of sky. What I needis a thousand lances at a gallop, and a little Kirghiz horse betweenmy knees."