One afternoon a corner of the big coffee‑room was being arranged for private theatricals, in which Barty was to perform the part of a waiter. He had just borrowed the real waiter's jacket and apron, and was dusting the little tables for the amusement of Mlle. Solange, the dame de comptoir, and of the waiter, Prosper, who had on Barty's own shooting‑jacket.
Suddenly an old gentleman came in and beckoned to Barty and ordered a demi‑tasse and petit‑verre. There were no other customers at that hour.
"'DEMI-TASSE—VOILÀ, M'SIEUR'"
Mlle. Solange was horrified; but Barty insisted on waiting on the old gentleman in person, and helped him to his coffee and pousse‑café with all the humorous grace I can so well imagine, and handed him the Indépendance Belge, and went back to superintend the arrangements for the coming play.
Presently the old gentleman looked up from his paper and became interested, and soon he grew uneasy, and finally he rose and went up to Barty and bowed, and said (in French, of course):
"Monsieur, I have made a very stupid mistake. I am near‑sighted, and that must be my apology. Besides, you have revenged yourself 'avec tant d'esprit,' that you will not bear me rancune! May I ask you to accept my card, with my sincere excuses?..."
And lo! it was Bonzig's famous Baron! Barty immediately inquired after his lost friend.
"Bonzig? Ah, monsieur—what a terrible tragedy! Poor Bonzig, the best of men—he came to me at Étretat. I invited him there from sheer friendship! He was drowned the very evening he arrived.