at and wonderful felicity. Another drink, I felt, would
do it. The others were holding out well with me, glass for glass."

But an extraordinary thing happened. At something the strangers said his
elation fell. Gloomy ideas--des idees noires--rushed into his head. All
the world outside the cafe; appeared to him as a dismal evil place where
a multitude of poor wretches had to work and slave to the sole end
that a few individuals should ride in carriages and live riotously in
palaces. He became ashamed of his happiness. The pity of mankind's cruel
lot wrung his heart. In a voice choked with sorrow he tried to express
these sentiments. He thinks he wept and swore in turns.

The two new acquaintances hastened to applaud his humane indignation.
Yes. The amount of injustice in the world was indeed scandalous. There
was only one way of dealing with the rotten state of society. Demolish
the whole sacree boutique. Blow up the whole iniquitous show.

Their heads hovered over the table. They whispered to him eloquently; I
don't think they quite expected the result. He was extremely drunk--mad
drunk. With a howl of rage he leaped suddenly upon the table. Kicking
over the bottles and glasses, he yelled: "Vive l'anarchie! Death to the
capitalists!" He yelled this again and again. All round him broken glass
was falling, chairs were being swung in the air, people were taking each
other by the throat. The police dashed in. He hit, bit, scratched and
struggled, till something crashed down upon his head. . . .

He came to himself in a police cell, locked up on a charge of assault,
seditious cries, and anarchist propaganda.

He looked at me fixedly with his liquid, shining eyes, that seemed very
big in the dim light.

"That was bad. But even then I might have got off somehow, perhaps," he
said, slowly.

I doubt it. But whatever chance he had was done away with by a young
socialist lawyer who volunteered to undertake his defence. In vain he
assured him that he was no anarchist; that he was a quiet, respectable
mechanic, only too anxious to work ten hours per day at his trade. He
was represented at the trial as the victim of society and his drunken
shoutings as the expression of infinite suffering. The young lawyer had
his way to make, and this case was just what he wanted for a start. The
speech for the defence was pronounced magnificent.

The poor fellow paused, swallowed, and brought out the statement:

"I got the maximum penalty