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"Next time I come I must stop at the English store and buy a jar of that reliable orange marmalade," said Durtal to himself, for by common consent with Des Hermies he never dined with the bell-ringer without furnishing a share of the provisions. Carhaix set out a pot-au-feu and a simple salad and poured his cider.
"There is one resource left," said Des Hermies. "To escape the horrors of present day life never raise your eyes. Look down at the sidewalk always, preserving the attitude of timid modesty.
"Well then, I will arrange it. I shall go see him agreed?" said Des Hermies. "By all means." "With that we must run along and give you a chance to get to bed, seeing that you have to be up at dawn."
"But if I didn't love you would I have come to you?" That sentence which she had spoken, with a caressing inflection of the voice, he heard again, and again he saw her mocking and tender face. "Ah, you are dreaming," said Des Hermies, tapping him on the shoulder. "We have to go. It's striking ten."
"But in the long run," Des Hermies went on, "in spite of the most adroit precautions, everything comes out. Up to now I have spoken only of local Satanistic associations, but there are others, more extensive, which ravage the old world and the new, for Diabolism is quite up to date in one respect. It is highly centralized and very capably administered.
I would rather phrase abstruse medicaments of rare application; perhaps it is not very necessary, but at least it isn't cheap." What surprised Durtal was his friend's prodigious erudition. Des Hermies had the run of the most out-of-the-way book shops, he was an authority on antique customs and, at the same time, on the latest scientific discoveries.
Des Hermies, who seemed perfectly at home, pointed downward, then upward. They were halfway up a tower the face of which was overlaid with enormous criss-crossing joists and beams riveted together with bolt heads as big as a man's fist. Durtal could see no one.
Look " he passed his hand over the table and brought back a coat of grime that made him appear to be wearing a grey glove "look. That brute turns the house upside down and knocks everything to pieces, and here's the result. He leaves more dust when he goes than he found when he came in!" "Bah," said Des Hermies, "dust isn't a bad thing.
"Very well," said Des Hermies, "but all that Scripture does not explain the alexipharmacal virtues which Dr. Johannès attributes to the sacrifice." "You are asking more than I can answer. Only Dr. Johannès could tell you. This much I can say.
"Supposing he is home this evening and he probably isn't, because surely Hyacinthe will have seen to that I can tell him that I have learned of his illness through Des Hermies and that I have come to see how he is getting along." He paused on the stoop of the building in which Chantelouve lived.
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