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That is the new method; the results are not so pretty, but they are more exact." "You have finished your post-graduate work, and I suppose you are about to leave Paris like the others. Have you any plans?" The lecture was over, the audience was pouring out of the theatre, and Adams was talking to Thénard, whom he knew personally. "Well, no," said Adams. "None very fixed just at present.
The impression of heat which green, the coolest of all colours, can produce, damp heat, heart-weakening heat, that is the master impression produced by the Congo on the mind of man. All the other impressions are to paraphrase Thénard embroideries on this. Yet how many other impressions there are! The Congo is Africa in a frank mood.
Then, in French, "Immensely, monsieur. Only it is impossible." "Why?" "Money." "Ah, that's just it," said Thénard. "A patient of mine, Captain Berselius, is starting on a big-game shooting expedition to the Congo. He requires a medical man to accompany him, and the salary is two thousand francs a month and all things found " Adams's eyes lit up. "Two thousand a month!"
COUNT DE MONTALEMBERT. And Naples! BARON THENARD. I prefer Naples. M. FULCHIRON. Yes, Naples, that's the place. By the by, I was there when poor Nourrit killed himself. I was staying in the house next to his. BARON CHARLES DUPIN. He took his life? It was not an accident? M. FULCHIRON. Oh! it was a case of suicide, sure enough. He had been hissed the previous day. He could not stand that.
Paul Quincy Adams, one of the representatives of America at the lectures of Thénard, was just reaching the entrance of the Beaujon as the last rays of sunset were touching the heights of Montmartre and the first lamps of Paris were springing alight.
Thénard had fixed upon the white marble bathroom adjoining Berselius's sleeping chamber as his operating theatre, and after the operation the weakness of the patient was so great, and the night so hot, they determined to make up a bed for him there, as it was the coolest room in the house. It was a beautiful room.
"Well," said Adams, "this man interests me somehow, and I intend to have a look at him." "The pay is good," said Duthil, "but I have warned you fully, if Thénard hasn't. Good evening." The Rue Dijon, where Adams lived, was a good way from the Beaujon. He made his way there on foot, studying the proposition as he went.
Adams does not go, some weaker man will. Well, I must be off." "One moment," said Adams. "Will you give me this man's address? I don't say I will take the post, but I might at least go and see him." "Certainly," replied Thénard, and taking one of his own cards from his pocket, he scribbled on the back of it
"Show the man in," said Marius. Basque announced: "Monsieur Thenard." A man entered. A fresh surprise for Marius. The man who entered was an utter stranger to him.
Of course I shall practise in my own country, but I can't quite see the opening yet." Thénard, with his case-book and a bundle of papers under his arm, stood for a moment in thought. Then he suddenly raised his chin. "How would you like to go on a big-game shooting expedition to the Congo?" "Ask a child would it like pie," said the American, speaking in English.
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