to see this establishment
where his name had been uttered so many times!

At nightfall, his feet took him toward the bar with an irresistible
impulse which disdained all counsels of prudence.

The glass door resisted his nervous hands, perhaps because he handled
the latch with too much force. And the captain finally opened it by
giving a kick to its lower part, made of wood.

The panes almost flew out from the shock of this brutal blow. A
magnificent entrance!... He saw much smoke, perforated by the red stars
of three electric bulbs which had just been lit, and men around the
various tables, facing him or with their backs turned. The gramophone
was shrilling in a nasal tone like an old woman without teeth. Back of
the counter appeared _Hindenburg_, his throat open, sleeves rolled up
over arms as fat as legs.

"I am Captain Ulysses Ferragut."

The voice that said this had a power similar to that of the magic words
of Oriental tales which held the life of an entire city in suspense,
leaving persons and objects immovable in the very attitude in which the
powerful conjurer surprised them.

There was the silence of astonishment. Those were beginning to turn
their heads, attracted by the noise of the door, did not go on with the
movement. Those in front remained with their eyes fixed on the one who
was entering, eyes widened with surprise as if they could not believe
what they saw. The gramophone was suddenly hushed. _Hindenburg_, who
was washing out a glass, remained with motionless hands, without even
taking the napkin from its crystal cavity.

Ferragut seated himself near an empty table with his back against the
wall. A waiter, the only one in the establishment, hastened to find out
what the gentleman wished. He was an Andalusian, small and sprightly,
whose escapades had brought him to Barcelona. He usually served his
customers with indifference, without taking any interest in their words
and their hymns. He "didn't mix himself up in politics." Accustomed to
the ways of gay and hot-blooded people, he suspected that this man had
come to pick a quarrel, and hoped to soften him with his smiling and
obsequious manner.

The sailor spoke to him aloud. He knew that in that low cafe his name
was frequently used and that there were many there who desired to see
him. He could give them the message that Captain Ferragut was there at
their disposition.

"I shall do so," said the Andalusian.

And he went away to the count