who hold their heads over the
braseros whenever the catalepsy necessary to their orgies is slow in
coming. As for the other phenomena you cite, they are known in the
hospitals, and except as symptoms of the demoniac effluence they teach
us nothing new. Now another thing. Not a word of this to Carhaix,
because he would be quite capable of closing his door in your face if he
knew you had been present at an office in honour of Satan."

They went downstairs from Durtal's apartment and walked along toward the
tower of Saint Sulpice.

"I didn't bring anything to eat, because you said you would look after
that," said Durtal, "but this morning I sent Mme. Carhaix--in lieu of
desserts and wine--some real Dutch gingerbread, and a couple of rather
surprising liqueurs, an elixir of life which we shall take, by way of
appetizer, before the repast, and a flask of creme de celeri. I have
discovered an honest distiller."

"Impossible!"

"You shall see. This elixir of life is manufactured from Socotra aloes,
little cardamom, saffron, myrrh, and a heap of other aromatics. It's
inhumanly bitter, but it's exquisite."

"I am anxious to taste it. The least we can do is fete Gevingey a little
on his deliverance."

"Have you seen him?"

"Yes. He's looking fine. We'll make him tell us about his cure."

"I keep wondering what he lives on."

"On what his astrological skill brings him."

"Then there are rich people who have their horoscopes cast?"

"We must hope so. To tell you the truth, I think Gevingey is not in very
easy circumstances. Under the Empire he was astrologer to the Empress,
who was very superstitious and had faith--as did Napoleon, for that
matter--in predictions and fortune telling, but since the fall of the
Empire I think Gevingey's situation has changed a good deal for the
worse. Nevertheless he passes for being the only man in France who has
preserved the secrets of Cornelius Agrippa, Cremona, Ruggieri, Gauric,
Sinibald the Swordsman, and Tritemius."

While discoursing they had climbed the stair and arrived at the
bell-ringer's door.

The astrologer was already there and the table was set. All grimaced a
bit as they tasted the black and active liqueur which Durtal poured.

Joyous to have all her family about her, Mama Carhaix brought the rich
soup. She filled the plates.

When a dish of vegetables was passed and Durtal chose a leek, Des
Hermies said, laughing, "Look out! Porta, a thaumaturge of the late
six