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Updated: June 23, 2025
“Yes,” he said. “Je suis Américain, catholique et gentil-homme,” in a tone contrasting so strongly with the smile, which, as it were, underlined the uttered words, that I was at a loss whether to return the smile in kind or acknowledge the words with a grave little bow. Of course I did neither and there fell on us an odd, equivocal silence. It marked our final abandonment of the French language.
At the time I gave neither an extraordinary nor a particular damn about Monsieur le Surveillant, nor indeed about "l'autre americain" alias myself. As for Afrique and The Cook there was nothing too good for me at this time. I asked the latter's permission to cut wood, and was not only accepted as a sawyer, but encouraged with assurances of the best coffee there was, with real sugar dedans.
"Humph! an Americain a West-Floridian; bah!" "But wait; 'st! he is speaking; listen!" "To who is he speak ?" "Sh-sh-sh! to Jules." "Jules who?" "Silence, you! To Jules St.-Ange, what howe me a bill since long time. Sh-sh-sh!" Then the voice was heard.
As Frowenfeld passed these four men they, too, ceased speaking and looked after him, three with offensive smiles and one with a stare of contempt. Farther on, some Creoles were talking rapidly to an Américain, in English. "And why?" one was demanding. "Because money is scarce. Under other governments we had any quantity!"
"Vous etes, uh-ah, l'Am-e-ri-cain?" "Je suis Americain," I admitted. "Eh-bi-en uh-ah uh-ah We were expecting you." He surveyed me with great interest. Behind this seedy and restless personage I noted his absolute likeness, adorning one of the walls. The rooster was faithfully depicted a la Rembrandt at half-length in the stirring guise of a fencer, foil in hand, and wearing enormous gloves.
No nose must be shown out of doors unless with a special permit, so to speak, displayed on the end of it. Not that there was much incentive to go out, as all business was stopped, and all shops closed. Without "le Comité Américain," thousands would have starved, so it was lucky for Noyon that the United States was neutral then!
Voltaire pensively surveying Life, brushes the sounding strings; and hums to himself, the carbuncle eyes carrying in them almost something of wet: "MON Henri Quatre ET MA Zaire, ET MON AMERICAIN Alzire, NE M'ONT VALU JAMAIS UN SEUL REGARD DU ROI; J'AVAIS MILLE ENNEMIS AVEC TRES PEU DE GLOIRE: LES HONNEURS ET LES BIENS PLEUVENT ENFIN SUR MOI POUR UN FARCE DE LA FOIRE."
We were having a long yarn one night in his rooms over the Café Américain, and he said to me suddenly: 'Look here, old chap, I'm going to do something very unprofessional, because I fancy you'll thank me for it. He said it just like that, bursting out all of a sudden.
The next twenty minutes, or whatever it was, were by far the most nerve-racking which I had as yet experienced. La Belge said to me: "Il est gentil, votre ami," and I agreed. And my blood was bombarding the roots of my toes and the summits of my hair. I had not time to exchange a look with him let alone a word for the Wooden Hand said from the doorway: "Allez, l'autre americain,"
And turning to his right along the Boulevards, he entered the Café Américain and ordered some beer. It was both late and early for the majority of the frequenters of the establishment. Only two or three persons, all men, were dotted here and there at separate tables in the hall; and Francis was too much occupied by his own thoughts to observe their presence.
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