ir, it was a woful thing to be haunted
by this phantom apparition. Yet the strangest part of the affair was
that neither of us seemed to feel a whit surprised at the dread
presence; that we quietly and uncomplainingly let him drink our wine,
and actually give orders for more; that we never objected, in fact, to
any of his sayings and doings. What seemed also strange was that the
waiter, while yet receiving and executing his orders, was evidently
pretending to ignore his presence. But then, as I dare say you know as
well as I do, French waiters are _such_ actors!

"Well, to resume, there he was, this fourth man, seated at our table and
feasting at our expense. And the pranks that he would play us--they were
truly stupendous. He began his little game by ordering in half-a-dozen
of champagne. And when the waiter seemed slightly doubtful and
hesitating about executing the order, Topp, forsooth, must put in his
oar, and indorse the command, actually pretending that _I_, who am now
speaking to you, and who am the very last man in the world likely to
dream of such a preposterous thing, had given the order, and that I was
a jolly old brick, and the best of boon companions. Surprise at this
barefaced assertion kept me mute, and so, of course, the champagne was
brought in, and I thought the best thing to do under the circumstances
was to have my share of it at least; and so I had--my fair share; but,
bless you, it was nothing to what that fourth man drank of it. In fact,
the amount of liquor _he_ would swill on this and on the many subsequent
occasions he intruded his presence upon us, was a caution.

"We paid our little bill without grumbling, though the presence of the
fourth man at our table had added rather heavily to the _addition_, as
they call bills at French restaurants.

"We sallied forth into the street to get a whiff of fresh air. _He_, the
demon, pertinaciously stuck to us; he familiarly linked his arm through
mine, and, suggesting coffee as rather a good thing to take after
dinner, took us over to the Cafe du Cardinal, where he, however, took
none of the Arabian beverage himself (there being only three cups placed
for us, as I distinctly saw), but drank an interminable succession of
_chasse-cafe_, utterly regardless of the divisional lines of the cognac
_carafon_. Part of these he would take neat, another portion he would
burn over sugar, gloating glaringly over the bluish flame, while gleams
of demoniac delight wo