Part 28 (1/2)
”For my heels when they had blisters after a long day's march.”
The effect of these words on Sypher was electrical. He brought both hands down on the table, leaned back in his chair, and looked at Septimus.
”Good heavens!” he cried, changing color, ”it never occurred to me.”
”What?”
”Why--blistered heels--marching. Don't you see? It will cure the sore feet of the Armies of the World. It's a revelation! It will be in the knapsack of every soldier who goes to manoeuvers or to war! It will be a jolly sight more useful than a marshal's baton! It will bring soothing comfort to millions of brave men! Why did I never think of it? I must go round to all the War Offices of the civilized globe. It's colossal. It makes your brain reel. Friend of Humanity? I shall be the Benefactor of the Human Race.”
”What will you have to drink?” asked Septimus.
”Anything. _Donnez-moi un bock_,” he said impatiently, obsessed by his new idea. ”Tell me, Monsieur Cruchot, you who have used the _Cure Sypher_. It is well known in the French army is it not? You had it served out from the regimental medical stores?”
”Ah, no, Monsieur. It is my mother who rubbed it on my heels.”
Sypher's face expressed disappointment, but he cheered up again immediately.
”Never mind. It is the idea that you have given me. I am very grateful to you, Monsieur Cruchot.”
Hegisippe laughed. ”It is to my mother you should be grateful, Monsieur.”
”I should like to present her with a free order for the Cure for life--if I knew where she lived.”
”That is easy,” said Hegisippe, ”seeing that she is concierge in the house where the _belle dame_ of Monsieur has her _appartement_.”
”Her _appartement_?” Sypher turned sharply to Septimus. ”What's that? I thought you lived at the Hotel G.o.det.”
”Of course,” said Septimus, feeling very uncomfortable. ”I live in the hotel, and Emmy lives in a flat. She couldn't very well stay in the Hotel G.o.det, because it isn't a nice place for ladies. There's a dog in the courtyard that howls. I tried to throw him some cold ham the other morning about six o'clock to stop him; but it hit a sort of dustman, who ate it and looked up for more. It was very good ham, and I was going to have it for supper.”
”But, my dear man,” said Sypher, laying his hand on his friend's shoulder, and paying no heed to the dog, ham, and dustman story, ”aren't you two living together?”
”Oh, dear, not” said Septimus, in alarm, and then, catching at the first explanation--”you see, our hours are different.”
Sypher shook his head uncomprehendingly. The proprietor of the establishment, in dingy s.h.i.+rt-sleeves, set down the beer before him.
Hegisippe, who had mixed his absinthe and was waiting politely until their new friend should be served, raised his gla.s.s.
”Just before you came, Monsieur,” said he, ”I was about to drink to the health--”
”Of _L'Armee-Francaise_,” interrupted Septimus, reaching out his gla.s.s.
”But no,” laughed Hegisippe. ”It was to Monsieur, Madame, et Bebe.”
”Bebe?” cried Sypher, and Septimus felt his clear, swift glance read his soul.
They clinked gla.s.ses. Hegisippe, defying the laws governing the absorption of alcohols, tossed off his absinthe in swashbuckler fas.h.i.+on, and rose.
”Now I leave you. You have many things to talk about. My respectful compliments to Madame. Messieurs, au revoir.”
He shook hands, saluted and swaggered off, his chechia at the very back of his head, leaving half his shaven crown uncovered in front.