"[Transcriber's Note: Transliteration of Greek.] Brekekekek koax koax [TN: /end Greek.]," continued the Senator, quite patiently. The waiter looked frightened.
"Will you give me some or not?" cried the Senator, indignantly.
"Signore," faltered the waiter. Then he ran for the café-keeper.
The café-keeper came. The Senator repeated the words mentioned above, though somewhat angrily. The keeper brought forward every customer in the house to see if any one could understand the language.
"It's German," said one.
"It's English," said another.
"Bah!" said a third. "It's Russian."
"No," said a fourth, "it's Bohemian; for Carolo Quinto said that Bohemian was the language of the devil." And Number Four, who was rather an intelligent-looking man, eyed the Senator compassionately.
"_Gunk gung, gunkety gung_!" cried the Senator, frowning, for his patience had at last deserted him.
The others looked at him helplessly, and some, thinking of the devil, piously crossed themselves. Whereupon the Senator rose in majestic wrath, and shaking his purse in the face of the café-keeper, shouted: