tentive look.

"No, I say no!" shouted the artist again, and he added to this word
one of the ugliest-sounding oaths in the French language. He arose, and
pushing Octave aside, leaned upon the table, bursting into a loud laugh.
"Poets all," said he, "be reassured and rejoice. You shall have your
story, in spite of those envious serpents. But first give me something
to drink, for my throat is like a box of matches. No wine," he added, as
he saw the notary armed with a bottle. "This devilish wine has made me
thirsty instead of refreshing me; besides, I am going to be as sober as
a judge."

Gerfaut, with the desperation of a man who sees that he is about to be
ruined, seized him again by the arm and tried to fascinate him by his
steady gaze. But he obtained no response to this mute and threatening
supplication except a stupid smile and these stammering words:

"Give me something to drink, Boleslas--Marinski-Graboski--I believe that
Satan has lighted his heating apparatus within my stomach."

The persons seated near the two friends heard an angry hiss from
Gerfaut's lips. He suddenly leaned over, and taking, from among several
bottles, a little carafe he filled Marillac's glass to the brim.

"Thanks," said the latter, trying to stand erect upon his legs; "you are
an angel. Rest easy, your love affairs will run no risk. I will gloss it
all over--To your health, gentlemen!"

He emptied the glass and put it upon the table; he then smiled and
waved his hand at his auditors with true royal courtesy; but his mouth
remained half open as if his lips were petrified, his eyes grew large
and assumed a haggard expression; the hand he had stretched out fell to
his side; a second more, and he reeled and fell from his chair as if he
had had a stroke of apoplexy.

Gerfaut, whose eyes had not left him, watched these different symptoms
with unutterable anxiety; but in spite of his fright, he drew a sigh of
relief when he saw Marillac mute and speechless.

"It is singular," observed the notary, as he aided in removing his
neighbor from the table, "that glass of water had more effect upon him
than four or five bottles of wine."

"Georges," said Gerfaut to one of the servants, in an agitated voice,
"open his bed and help me carry him to it; Monsieur de Bergenheim, I
suppose there is a chemist near here, if I should need any medicine."

The greater part of the guests arose at this unexpected incident, and
some of them hastened to Mari