At a safe distance of about twenty paces however, it was followed by another coach which, as de Berny had suggested, looked for all the world like just another rent cab, but it had a spirited horse which easily could keep up with the carriage in front of it. Inside, bursting with tension and anticipation were the Counts de Berny, de Lyncent, and de Melreuse.
They turned into the Rue Charles V.
“So that's where they live?” the plotters said. “The next question is, how do we get in?”
The sphinx equipage stopped in front of the gate of an old building.
“Evergreen does not live here,” de Berny said.
“Are you sure?”
“You don't think that I would brag about my visits to a dump like this? I make a bet that de Paliseul has given us one of his famous fantasy stories.”
“That would be the limit!”
“I know that,” de Berny exclaimed as if he suddenly got a brilliant idea, “let's surprise him!”
“How?”
“It should not be difficult to bribe the gatekeeper of such a cheap establishment.”
They rang the bell, and the gate opened a narrow slit. An old gatekeeper showed his face.
“We must,” de Berny said, “speak to the gentleman who just came here to visit Madame Pomegranate Flower. It is very urgent that we see him at once. I hope you understand.” And he gave the old man a couple of gold pieces.
According to previous instructions the old man led the visitors up the stairs to the second floor, pointing wordlessly at a little waiting room. Nothing the gentlemen had seen so far looked remotely like the fantastic descriptions they had received. In fact, to them it looked as if they were being received in a second class whorehouse.
“It does not exactly fit the description,” de Lyncent remarked.
“No,” Maxim answered, “it's not in the least what I have seen in the little palace of Evergreen.”
The gentlemen were beginning to get impatient because they had to wait quite a while. Finally the old man returned. He motioned for them to be silent, and led them through another door, where they suddenly found themselves in a huge bedroom. It looked exactly like the one de Paliseul had described in such glowing colors, except for the fact that it was very dimly lit.
The three friends groped carefully around in the darkness when they heard two sudden exclamations and saw two bodies moving upon the bed.
“Excuse us, “de Melreuse said, “it seems that we have been led into the wrong room by mistake.”
Suddenly all the lights in the room went on and the three friends saw their comrade, de Paliseul, in the process of attacking a woman sexually. Her mask had fallen from her face and… it was the face of Felicitas!
De Paliseul jumped up as if he had been bitten by a viper.
“I would have liked it much better, you dirty cocksucker,” Felicitas screamed as if she were a real cheap whore, “if you could have kept your damned mouth shut. Are those guys gonna watch us fuck, or what? Why didn't you keep our secret? Please, come back here… you're the only one who can make me come!”
And with exaggerated tenderness, Felicitas threw her arms around the embarrassed de Paliseul's neck. He pushed her back.
“What do you mean pushing me, you bum! And what are those guys doing here anyway! I only fuck you free… they can stand in line and pay like the rest.”
“You… you… are… the… Negro maid of P-P-omegra…” de Paliseul stuttered helplessly.
“What do you mean by 'Negro maid'? Do I look black?” And Felicitas, now standing on the bed, turned around and lifted her skirts, showing a huge pair of snowy-white buns.
“And this,” she screamed in simulated anger, baring her voluptuous bosom, “are these tits you have been sucking black?”
The onlookers had to admit that this delicious pair of breasts was as white as the arse they had just viewed. They practically rolled on the floor, roaring with laughter.
“I don't know what you want, gentlemen,” Felicitas said, “but you are in my house and I advise you to scram before I call the police.
And you, you bastard,” she turned to de Paliseul, “pick up your pants and don't let me ever see your face again. It's out… you hear… out! No more free screwing for you.”
De Paliseul scrambled hastily into his clothes, and Felicitas threw a robe over her disarrayed clothes. She rang a bell, and the old man showed up again.
“You're fired, you miserable old scum,” Felicitas screamed, throwing a half-crown at the old man, which he picked up hastily. “Your last job is to throw out these fine friends… if you can use that word!”
The old man led them crisscross through a series of dark corridors and hallways, down the stairs, and finally the members of the club found themselves in a little dark alley behind the Rue Charles V.
“So that was your gorgeous houri!” Again the friends broke out in a salvo of laughter. “We knew that you had a terrific imagination, de Paliseul, but to make a magical palace out of that dump, and a gorgeous creature out of a common whore takes quite a lot!”
“Gentlemen, gentlemen,” de Berny said, trying to calm down the storm, “let's admit that she had a pair of beautiful breasts, and her buttocks weren't bad, either. I must admit that her language was not very ladylike, but one can't have everything for free.”
“I think I'm going out of my mind,” de Paliseul cried.
“I don't think so, my friend. After all, it is impossible to describe a face which was hidden behind a mask. Besides, every good doctor for the insane can tell you that the excitement and the intrigue will put things in your mind that are as real for you as if they had truly happened.”
This was not exactly the consolation de Paliseul needed at the moment.
“Poor de Paliseul, you've been tricked. Your imagination has ascribed qualities to a rather overaged courtesan, or possibly some rich old woman who couldn't possibly snare anyone without resorting to a bagful of tricks.”
“And then,” number three added, “the possibility does exist that you were the only man capable of satisfying an old whore.”
The three broke out in tremendous laughter again.
“I've gone crazy… I must have gone crazy!” de Paliseul hailed a cab, and before his three club fellows could say anything else, the carriage drove away.
A few days later, in a duel, one of his friends wound up with a piece of lead in his shoulder, all honors were settled, and the routine in the Club de Topinambours was as of old.
It seemed that the entire episode had been forgotten. But it only seemed that way, because a terrible thirst for revenge had taken root in de Paliseul's heart, and he swore an oath that those who had made such a fool out of him would have to pay dearly for their fun.
Meanwhile, Maxim de Berny had seen to it that his two friends also took a cab to their homes and, when he was sure that nobody followed him, returned to the home in the Rue Charles V, where he found Evergreen and Dorothy still in a hilarious mood.
“Well, what did you think of Dorothy's acting?” Florentine asked.
“It was marvelous, Dorothy! What an act! Oh, dearest Evergreen, if you could only have seen how she greeted us! You have a marvelous behind Dorothy.”
“Your Lordship is joking.”
“Not at all, Dorothy and as proof of my admiration, here are ten gold pieces.”
“Your Lordship is too good. For this amount I am entirely at your service.”
“I thank you, dear girl, but I wouldn't want to abuse your hospitality.”
The ladies got what they asked for and, when Maxim had finished they practically rolled on the floor with laughter. Especially when they heard that de Paliseul seriously thought about consulting a doctor for the insane.
Do we have to say that this pleasant evening ended with Maxim's eager lips between Florentine's shuddering thighs?