“‘After all,’ I thought, as I returned to my house, ’these are the Emperor’s orders.  He has commanded me to give the Tuareg an idea of Parisian civilization.  Clementine comports herself very well in society and just now it would not do to aggravate her.  I will engage a room for to-morrow at the Cafe de Paris, and tell Gramont-Caderousse and Viel-Castel to bring their silly mistresses.  It will be very French to enjoy the attitude of these children of the desert in the midst of this little party.’

“The train from Marseilles arrived at 10:20.  On the platform I found M. Duveyrier, a young man of twenty-three with blue eyes and a little blond beard.  The Tuareg fell into his arms as they descended from the train.  He had lived with them for two years, in their tents, the devil knows where.  He presented me to their chief, Sheik Otham, and to four others, splendid fellows in their blue cotton draperies and their amulets of red leather.  Fortunately, they all spoke a kind of sabir[13] which helped things along.

[Footnote 13:  Dialect spoken in Algeria and the Levant—­a mixture of Arabian, French, Italian and Spanish.]

“I only mention in passing the lunch at the Tuileries, the visits in the evening to the Museum, to the Hotel de Ville, to the Imperial Printing Press.  Each time, the Tuareg inscribed their names in the registry of the place they were visiting.  It was interminable.  To give you an idea, here is the complete name of Sheik Otham alone:  Otham-ben-e
l-Hadj-el-Bekri-ben-el-Hadj-el-Faqqi-ben-Mohammad-Bouya-ben-si-Ahmed-es-Souki-ben-Mahmoud.[14]

[Footnote 14:  I have succeeded in finding on the registry of the Imperial Printing Press the names of the Tuareg chiefs and those who accompanied them on their visit, M. Henry Duveyrier and the Count Bielowsky. (Note by M. Leroux.)]

“And there were five of them like that!

“I maintained my good humor, however, because on the boulevards, everywhere, our success was colossal.  At the Cafe de Paris, at six-thirty, it amounted to frenzy.  The delegation, a little drunk, embraced me:  ’Bono, Napoleon, bono, Eugenie; bono, Casimir; bono, Christians.’  Gramont-Caderousse and Viel-Castel were already in booth number eight, with Anna Grimaldi, of the Folies Dramatiques, and Hortense Schneider, both beautiful enough to strike terror to the heart.  But the palm was for my dear Clementine, when she entered.  I must tell you how she was dressed:  a gown of white tulle, over China blue tarletan, with pleatings, and ruffles of tulle over the pleatings.  The tulle skirt was caught up on each side by garlands of green leaves mingled with rose clusters.  Thus it formed a valence which allowed the tarletan skirt to show in front and on the sides.  The garlands were caught up to the belt and, in the space between their branches, were knots of rose satin with long ends.  The pointed bodice was draped with tulle, the billowy bertha of tulle was edged with lace.  By way of head-dress, she had placed upon her black locks a diadem crown of the same flowers.  Two long leafy tendrils were twined in her hair and fell on her neck.  As cloak, she had a kind of scarf of blue cashmere embroidered in gold and lined with blue satin.