"'That's because it's a secret society,' Jacques explained. 'You can't expect to hear about secret societies before you're asked to join them. The more secret they are the better. You can understand that, can't you?'
"Of course I could understand that.
"'I was asked to get you into it,' Jacques continued. 'A man like you——'
"One ought not, of course, to be susceptible to that sort of flattery. But one is as one is made; and I had spoken in favour of the revolution in the cafés. So it was agreed, and an appointment was arranged.
"'Next Sunday evening,' Jacques whispered.
"'Next Sunday evening,' I replied.
"And now picture me at this important turning point of my career. Observe me guided by my comrade through many dark and dangerous streets, where it seemed to me that a man would carry his life in his hands, unless he were, like myself, of formidable appearance. Our destination was a cellar, underneath a café, and we reached it by a flight of narrow, winding, slimy stairs. Jacques gave the secret signal; three slow, loud knocks upon the panel of the door, and then the humming of two lines of the Carmagnole—
'Vive le son
Du canon.'
There was a rattling of chains, and then the door was opened and we were admitted.
"'Sit down, comrade,' said one who seemed to be the President, and I took the place that had been kept vacant for me, and, as my eyes became used to the gloom, gradually surveyed the scene.