Part 15 (1/2)

Now they had to calculate the gains and losses of the night. The trumpeter got through quickest. He tossed Heppner the borrowed thaler, and laughed contentedly to himself. He had every reason to be cheerful, he, who had not brought a single red pfennig with him, and who now had more than a hundred marks--chiefly in silver, but with a few gold pieces also--clinking in his pocket!

The other four had all lost. The deputy sergeant-major was quite thirty marks poorer. He glanced darkly at the small sum which still lay before him. How stupid he had been! He had thrown away his luck with the thaler which he had lent Henke, that was quite certain. Now, instead of himself, this fop had hauled in the fat baker's money. That was the reward of his good nature!

Then suddenly Henke had an idea.

”Gentlemen!” he began, ”I see that I have had tremendous luck. I must really give some of it away.”

He dug the sleepy landlord in the ribs, and shouted in his ear, ”Now then, Anton! I want two bottles of champagne.”

The landlord was quite alert in a moment. He stood to win by this sort of play.

”Bring the most expensive!” trumpeted the trumpeter. ”Eleven marks the bottle, Henke!”

”No matter! What our officers can do I can do also. Bring it along!”

Mine host hurried down into his cellar and fetched two bottles of Pommery from the furthermost corner, a good dry brand with which horse-dealers sometimes christened a concluded bargain.

There was no more ice to be had; so he opened the bottle as it came out of the cellar. The cork sprang to the ceiling with a loud pop, and the wine poured from the neck like a fountain.

The two sergeants had given the word of command, ”Fire!” as the cork flew out, and the trumpeter had blown a fanfare. All five buried their noses in their gla.s.ses and let them be tickled by the rising bubbles.

Then they drank off the wine, which was far too warm, and could not praise it enough.

The trumpeter, who was always imitating the officers, considered himself a judge of wine. He smelt the champagne, let it lie on his tongue, while at the same time his face took on an enraptured expression, and he shouted enthusiastically, ”Gentlemen, gentlemen! in this bouquet one recognises the true French brand. It is utterly different from German champagne!”

The others imitated his action and were in complete agreement with him.

Only Kuhn remarked discontentedly, ”The hog-wash tastes like bitter almonds!”

At which the landlord took offence. ”Don't you know then, baker,” he snarled, ”that that is just the way to know genuine French champagne?”

And he looked lovingly at the two corks which he had placed carefully in a corner.

When Captain von Wegstetten entered the orderly-room on the morning of April 1st, he at once said to the deputy sergeant-major, ”What is the matter with you? You look quite green.”

Heppner answered, ”Excuse me, sir, my wife has had a very bad night.”

”Indeed!” drawled Wegstetten. ”I am sorry to hear it.”

But to himself he thought: ”If that is at all true, the man must have been consoling himself with whisky; one can smell it five paces away from him.”

However, the captain offered to let him dispense with riding; but Heppner objected, and begged to be allowed to take part in the drill.

He felt that would help him to shake off his unpleasant sensations; an hour's ride and he would be fresh again. A fine thing if a night's dissipation could really upset a man like himself!

His commanding officer was pleased at such enthusiasm; and as during the drill the deputy sergeant-major managed his horse--the most troublesome of all the remounts--exceedingly well, he remarked to him, ”Heppner, I think I shall be able to bring you some good news at noon.”

Afterwards it occurred to him that he had intended to raise objections to the colonel with regard to Heppner's elevation to the rank of sergeant-major, but now that he had committed himself to the man this was no longer possible.

He did just mention his doubts in the colloquy with Falkenhein, but he made no impression, and in the end the colonel himself covered the retreat.

”What do you expect, my dear Wegstetten?” he said. ”I ask you, just take all your non-commissioned officers. Who is there you cannot accuse of gambling? It is a fatal characteristic of these mongrels that they will copy the officers, and unfortunately only in what is stupid or bad. The fine gentlemen all play, drink, fool with women, gamble; it's only a question of the one a little more, the other a little less.”