"
When Hippolyte finally yielded, his rapid and efficient despatch of the
dainties excited the admiration of his hosts. They had collected their
plates and were taking their departure, with expressions of regard, when a
knock announced the arrival of a _garcon_ from the Cafe aux Gourmets,
bearing a dish of crisp hot _crepes_.
"One moment, Messieurs," said Hippolyte dramatically to his departing
visitors. "It must not be said that Hippolyte Lariviere lacks in
neighbourly feeling. Behold my seasonable gift!"
M'sieur groaned. The Sergeant-Major, being a soldier, concealed his
apprehensions. Wild thoughts of surreptitiously disposing of them in a
coal-bin whirled through their minds, but Hippolyte apparently divined
their thoughts.
"I regret that I must forgo the pleasure I promised myself of asking the
ladies to take _crepes_ with me," he said. "To offer these would be a poor
compliment to their superlative efforts. But there is no reason why _you_
should not eat them here."
"I have an excellent reason," said M'sieur, stroking his waistcoat. "And
the gallant Sergeant-Major, I imagine, has another."
"Bah! what is a little digestive inconvenience to a breach of courtesy?"
cried Hippolyte maliciously. "You must eat them. _The law of hospitality
demands it._"
When M'sieur and the Sergeant-Major stumbled unsteadily downstairs ten
minutes later their eyes bulged with the expression of those whose cup of
suffering is filled to overflowing.
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