At nightfall, his feet took him toward the bar with an irresistible impulse which disdained all counsels of prudence.
The glass door resisted his nervous hands, perhaps because he handled the latch with too much force. And the captain finally opened it by giving a kick to its lower part, made of wood.
The panes almost flew out from the shock of this brutal blow. A magnificent entrance!… He saw much smoke, perforated by the red stars of three electric bulbs which had just been lit, and men around the various tables, facing him or with their backs turned. The gramophone was shrilling in a nasal tone like an old woman without teeth. Back of the counter appeared Hindenburg, his throat open, sleeves rolled up over arms as fat as legs.
"I am Captain Ulysses Ferragut."
The voice that said this had a power similar to that of the magic words of Oriental tales which held the life of an entire city in suspense, leaving persons and objects immovable in the very attitude in which the powerful conjurer surprised them.
There was the silence of astonishment. Those were beginning to turn their heads, attracted by the noise of the door, did not go on with the movement. Those in front remained with their eyes fixed on the one who was entering, eyes widened with surprise as if they could not believe what they saw. The gramophone was suddenly hushed. Hindenburg, who was washing out a glass, remained with motionless hands, without even taking the napkin from its crystal cavity.
Ferragut seated himself near an empty table with his back against the wall. A waiter, the only one in the establishment, hastened to find out what the gentleman wished. He was an Andalusian, small and sprightly, whose escapades had brought him to Barcelona. He usually served his customers with indifference, without taking any interest in their words and their hymns. He "didn't mix himself up in politics." Accustomed to the ways of gay and hot-blooded people, he suspected that this man had come to pick a quarrel, and hoped to soften him with his smiling and obsequious manner.
The sailor spoke to him aloud. He knew that in that low cafe his name was frequently used and that there were many there who desired to see him. He could give them the message that Captain Ferragut was there at their disposition.
"I shall do so," said the Andalusian.
And he went away to the counter, bringing him, in a little while, a bottle and a glass.