afterward, Galahad Shaughnessy, having taken a place among
the exiles, rose with the remark that the old gentleman would doubtless
be willing to tell them good-night. Good-night was accordingly said, the
Cafe des Exiles closed her windows, then her doors, winked a moment or
two through the cracks in the shutters and then went fast asleep.

The Mexican physician, at Galahad's request, told Mazaro that at the
next meeting of the burial society he might and must occupy his
accustomed seat without fear of molestation; and he did so.

The meeting took place some seven days after the affair in the back
parlor, and on the same ground. Business being finished, Galahad, who
presided, stood up, looking, in his white duck suit among his
darkly-clad companions, like a white sheep among black ones, and begged
leave to order "dlasses" from the front room. I say among black sheep;
yet, I suppose, than that double row of languid, effeminate faces, one
would have been taxed to find a more harmless-looking company. The
glasses were brought and filled.

"Gentlemen," said Galahad, "comrades, this may be the last time we ever
meet together an unbroken body."

Martinez of San Domingo, he of the horrible experience, nodded with a
lurking smile, curled a leg under him and clasped his fingers behind his
head.

"Who knows," continued the speaker, "but Senor Benito, though strong and
sound and har'ly thirty-seven"--here all smiled--"may be taken ill
tomorrow?"

Martinez smiled across to the tall, gray Benito on Galahad's left, and
he, in turn, smilingly showed to the company a thin, white line of teeth
between his moustachios like distant reefs.

"Who knows," the young Irishman proceeded to inquire, "I say, who knows
but Pedro, theyre, may be struck wid a fever?"

Pedro, a short, compact man of thoroughly mixed blood, and with an
eyebrow cut away, whose surname no one knew, smiled his acknowledgments.

"Who knows?" resumed Galahad, when those who understood English had
explained in Spanish to those who did not, "but they may soon need the
services not only of our good doctor heer, but of our society; and that
Fernandez and Benigno, and Gonzalez and Dominguez, may not be chosen to
see, on that very schooner lying at the Picayune Tier just now, their
beloved remains and so forth safely delivered into the hands and lands
of their people. I say, who knows bur it may be so!"

The company bowed graciously as who should say, "Well-turned phr