Crowded Out! and Other Sketches | Page 7

at her beautiful dress. As for her eyes, they were everywhere in an instant.
"'Tis F��licit��. You are fortunate," murmured De Kock. "And she is a little worse than usual."
"What is it?" I demanded. "Drink?" "Hush-sh-sh! Mon cher, you are stupid. It is jealousy, jealousy, my friend, with perhaps an occasional over-dose of chloral. Chloral is the favorite prescription now-a-days, you must remember that. But jealousy will do, jealousy will do. It will accomplish a great deal, will jealousy; will destroy more, mark that! I hope she will be quiet to-night for your sake."
"Is she violent?" I asked.
"Poor thing, yes. When she finds him now with that creature inside his coat; she will wring her hands and denounce him and threaten to kill it--I wonder she doesn't--then her husband will march her off behind the curtain and he will make love to the parrot again." Precisely what happened. The lady soon found her husband, raised her hands tragically and broke out into excited French that was liberally sprinkled with oaths both English and French. The mania was asserting itself, the propensity overcoming her. It was a sad and at the same time an amusing scene, for one could not help smiling at Giuseppe's fat unconcern as he kept his wife off at arms' length, while all the time the parrot inside his coat was shrieking in muffled tones "And for goodness sake don't say I told you!"
Finally Madame succumbed and was taken behind the curtain in a dishevelled and hysterical condition which increased De Kock's pity for her. We paid the waiter--or rather De Kock did--and left, not seeing Giuseppe again to speak to, though he came in and removed the parrot, cage and all.
It was a lovely night outside, and I suggested sitting for a time in Union Square. Finding an unoccupied bench, we each made ourselves happy with a good cigar and watched the exquisite shadows of the trees above as thrown by the electric light on the pavement.
"Wonderful effect!" remarked my friends. "How did you enjoy your dinner? That was a dinner, eh, and no mistake; rather have had it without the 'episode'? Oh! I don't know; you literary fellows must come in for that sort of thing as well as the rest of the world; I should think it would just suit you. Put them--the three of them-- Monsieur, Madame and the Pea-Green Parrot--into a book, or better still, on the stage. There's your title ready for you too."
I was just thinking of the same thing.
"They are undoubtedly originals, both of them--all three," said I, "but as far as I have seen them, there is hardly enough to go upon."
"What do you mean by 'enough'?"
"I mean, for one thing, we do not understand the woman's mental and moral condition sufficiently to make a study of her. You say it is jealousy, and at the same time the use of chloral. That would have to be understood more clearly. Then, one would like something to--"
"Go on," said my friend. "To--"
"Happen," said I, lighting a second cigar.
Just then a couple of boys ran across the square. One of them stumbled over my feet, picked himself up quickly and ran on again. Two or three people now came, all running. De Kock jumped up.
"Something is happening," he said, "and with a vengeance too I fancy. Hark!"
The people now came fast and furious through the square, increasing in numbers every moment, but through the bustle and hurry and clatter of tongues, we could hear a woman's voice screaming in evident distress. Mingled with it was another sound which may have mystified the general crowd, but which De Kock and I could easily place.
"It is the parrot!" I exclaimed, as we started to run.
"You have your wish, mon cher, is it not so? But take it not so fast; we will be there in time. Ciel! What a row!"
The steps leading up to the restaurant were thronged with people, including two or three policemen. The dining-room was ablaze with light, and still full of visitors, most of whom, however, were moving about in a state of agitation. The upper windows were also lighted and wide open. The screaming suddenly ceased, but not the parrot.
"For goodness sake don't say I told you!" It went on, louder than ever, over and over again.
"Damn the bird!" exclaimed De Kock. "Policeman excuse me, but I am rather at home here. Let me go up, will you?"
"It looks bad, sir. I'd better keep behind."
"Oh. It isn't murder or anything of that sort. I know them, pretty couple, they are!"
The next moment we were in a kind of sitting room over the restaurant proper. Madame Martinetti lay as if exhausted on a sofa while the highly excited parrot sang and screamed and tore at its cage as if