Riviere,

not wholly ingenuously, undertook to explain to Jimmy the

triumph of the French mechanicians. The resonant voice of the

Hungarian was about to prevail in ridicule of the spurious lutes of

the romantic painters when Segouin shepherded his party into

politics. Here was congenial ground for all. Jimmy, under generous

influences, felt the buried zeal of his father wake to life within

him: he aroused the torpid Routh at last. The room grew doubly

hot and Segouin's task grew harder each moment: there was even

danger of personal spite. The alert host at an opportunity lifted his

glass to Humanity and, when the toast had been drunk, he threw

open a window significantly.


That night the city wore the mask of a capital. The five young men

strolled along Stephen's Green in a faint cloud of aromatic smoke.

They talked loudly and gaily and their cloaks dangled from their

shoulders. The people made way for them. At the corner of

Grafton Street a short fat man was putting two handsome ladies on

a car in charge of another fat man. The car drove off and the short

fat man caught sight of the party.


"Andre."


"It's Farley!"


A torrent of talk followed. Farley was an American. No one knew

very well what the talk was about. Villona and Riviere were the

noisiest, but all the men were excited. They got up on a car,

squeezing themselves together amid much laughter. They drove by

the crowd, blended now into soft colours, to a music of merry

bells. They took the train at Westland Row and in a few seconds,

as it seemed to Jimmy, they were walking out of Kingstown

Station. The ticket-collector saluted Jimmy; he was an old man:


"Fine night, sir!"


It was a serene summer night; the harbour lay like a darkened

mirror at their feet. They proceeded towards it with linked arms,

singing Cadet Roussel in chorus, stamping their feet at every:


"Ho! Ho! Hohe, vraiment!"


They got into a rowboat at the slip and made out for the

American's yacht. There was to be supper, music, cards. Villona

said with conviction:


"It is delightful!"


There was a yacht piano in the cabin. Villona played a waltz for

Farley and Riviere, Farley acting as cavalier and Riviere as lady.

Then an impromptu square dance, the men devising original

figures. What merriment! Jimmy took his part with a will; this was

seeing life, at least. Then Farley got out of breath and cried "Stop!"

A man brought in a light supper, and the young men sat down to it

for form's sake. They drank, however: it was Bohemian. They

drank Ireland, England, France, Hungary, the United States of

America. Jimmy made a speech, a long speech, Villona saying:

"Hear! hear!" whenever there was a pause. There was a great

clapping of hands when he sat down. It must have been a good

speech. Farley clapped him on the back and laughed loudly. What

jovial fellows! What good company they were!


Cards! cards! The table was cleared.