or the evening to the privileges of the Club."

"Enter, gentlemen," said the man, who appeared to be the porter.

We found ourselves in a small vestibule. In front of us was a large
door, on the right a small one, both closed. At a table by the large
door sat a dirty, out-of-elbows raven of a man reading a newspaper. The
latter looked up and addressed me.

"You wish to enter the Club, Monsieur?"

I had no particular longing to do so, but I politely answered that such
was my desire.

"If you will give your visiting-card, I will submit it to the
Secretariat."

I produced my card; Anastasius thrust a pencil into my hand.

"Write my name on it, too."

I obeyed. The raven sent the porter with the card into the room on the
right, and resumed the perusal of his soiled newspaper. I looked at
Anastasius. The little man was quivering with excitement. The porter
returned after a few minutes with a couple of pink oval cards which he
handed to each of us. I glanced at mine. On it was inscribed: _Cercle
Africain d'Alger. Carte de Member Honoraire. Une soiree_. And then there
was a line for the honorary member's signature. The raven man dipped a
pen in the ink-pot in front of him and handed it to me.

"Will you sign, Messieurs?"

We executed this formality; he retained the cards, and opening the great
door, said:

"_Entrez, Messieurs_!"

The door closed behind us. It was simply a _tripot_, or gambling-den.
And all this solemn farce of Secretariats and _cartes d'entree_ to
obtain admission! It is curious how the bureaucratic instinct is
ingrained in the French character.

It was a large, ill-ventilated room, blue with cigarette and cigar
smoke. Some thirty men were sitting or standing around a baccarat table
in the centre, and two or three groups hung around _ecarte_ tables in
the corners. A personage who looked like a slightly more prosperous
brother of the raven outside and wore a dinner-jacket, promenaded the
room with the air of one in authority. He scrutinised us carefully from
a distance; then advanced and greeted us politely.

"You have chosen an excellent evening," said he. "There are a great many
people, and the banks are large."

He bowed and passed on. A dingy waiter took our hats and coats and hung
them up. Anastasius plucked me by the sleeve.

"If you don't mind staking a little for the sake of appearances, I shall
be grateful."

I whispered: "Can you tell me now, my dear Professor, for what reason
y