Twenty minutes later, Waldemar returned and they sat down and dined together, opposite each other, silent and pensive.
"Waldemar, a good cigar would be a treat. . . . I thank you. . . . Ah, this one crackles as a self-respecting Havana should!"
He lit his cigar and, after a minute or two:
"You can smoke, count; I don't mind in the least; in fact, I rather like it."
An hour passed. Waldemar dozed and, from time to time, swallowed a glass of brandy to wake himself up.
Soldiers passed in and out, waiting on them.
"Coffee," asked Lupin.
They brought him some coffee.
"What bad stuff!" he grumbled. "If that's what Cæsar drinks! . . . Give me another cup all the same, Waldemar. We may have a long night before us. Oh, what vile coffee!"
He lit a second cigar and did not say another word.
