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Updated: June 8, 2025
This white-haired, luminous-eyed ascetic he drank but an orangeade through post-war straws had kept us spellbound with his talk. I glanced at Auriol and read compliance in her eye. "Will you accompany us ignorant people and act as cicerone?" "With all the pleasure in life," said Bakkus. "What time shall we start?" "Would ten be too early?" "Lady Auriol and I are old campaigners."
It was Elodie, too, who had fixed into his buttonholes the little red rosette of the Officer of the Legion. That at least he could do for her.... Success, such as it was, before the war, he had attained he knew not how. The big drum of the showman had ever been an engine of abhorrence. Others had put him on the track of things, Elodie, Bakkus.... He had sternly suppressed vulgarity in posters.
"I don't see that I've got anything else to be proud of," said Andrew. "And you must be proud of something?" "If not you had better be dead," said Andrew. "Ah!" said Bakkus, and went on with his supper. Andrew, who had hitherto held himself on the defensive against impertinence, and was disposed to dislike the cynical attitude of his new acquaintance, felt himself suddenly disarmed by this "Ah!"
Andrew went into the salle a manger and returned with brandy, syphon and glasses. Helping Bakkus he asked: "And now, what are you going to do?" "Nothing, my friend, absolutely nothing. I wallow in the ill-gotten matrimonial gains of Theophilus and Ronald. I wallow modestly, it is true. The richer strata of mire I leave to hogs with whom I'm out of sympathy.
He cursed his stiff-neckedness in declining the Major's commission offered by the War Office. A line of Tennyson reminiscent of the days when Bakkus had guided his reading came into his head. Something about a man's own angry pride being cap and bells for a fool. He tried to find repose against the edge of the sharp double curve that divided the carriage side into two portions.
Prepimpin went through his repertoire with the punctilio of the barrack square deprecated by Bakkus. "I buy him," said Andrew. "Viens, mon ami." Prepimpin cast an oblique glance at his old master. "Va-t-en," said the latter. "Allons" said Andrew with a caressing touch on the dog's head. Prepimpin's topaz eyes gazed full into his new lord's. He wagged the tuft at the end of his shaven tail.
It was a relief to rise and fall into groups as we strolled down the terrace to coffee. I manoeuvred Elodie and Bakkus to the front leaving Auriol and Lackaday to follow. I sought a table at the far end, for coffee; but when I turned round, I discovered that the pair had descended by the mid-way flight of three or four steps to the grass-plotted and fountained terrace below. We sat down.
"From which outburst of conjugal ferocity, my dear fellow," said Bakkus, "you can gauge the conscientiousness of my guidance of Elodie during your absence." Andrew grinned happily. He was full of faith in both of them loving woman, loyal friend. "It is true," said he, "that I have found my vocation." "What are you going to do when the war is over and Othello's occupation is gone?"
As the fag end of the comet's tail should I have made my name and a big position? Ah egotist! Egotist! Sublime egotist! The true artist using human souls as the rungs of his ladder! Well, go your ways. I have no reproach against you. Now that I'm out of your barrack square, my heart is overflowing with love for you. You have ever a friend in Horatio Bakkus.
"By Gum!" cried Andrew, "I believe you're right again." "I'm never wrong," said Bakkus. "Garcon!" He summoned the waiter and waved his hand towards the little accusing pile of saucers. "Monsieur always pays for my inspirations." We behold Petit Patou now definitely launched on his career. Perhaps Prepimpin had something to do with it. He was young, excellently trained, and expensive.
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