o treat, and you
shall drink my health."

From the capacious pocket of his capote he extracted a bottle of brandy,
adding, with his all-conquering air, that it was the gift of a lady. (He
had been seen the day before, seated at the table of a tavern in Floing
and holding the waitress on his lap, evidently on the best of terms with
her.) The soldiers laughed and winked at one another, holding out their
porringers, into which he gayly poured the golden liquor.

"Drink to your sweethearts, my children, if you have any and don't
forget to drink to the glory of France. Them's my sentiments, so _vive
la joie_!"

"That's right, Lieutenant. Here's to your health, and everybody else's!"

They all drank, and their hearts were warmed and peace reigned once
more. The "nip" had much of comfort in it, in the chill morning, just as
they were going into action, and Maurice felt it tingling in his veins,
giving him cheer and a sort of what is known colloquially as "Dutch
courage." Why should they not whip the Prussians? Have not battles their
surprises? has not history embalmed many an instance of the fickleness
of fortune? That mighty man of war, the lieutenant, added that Bazaine
was on the way to join them, would be with them before the day was over:
oh, the information was positive; he had it from an aid to one of the
generals; and although, in speaking of the route the marshal was to come
by, he pointed to the frontier of Belgium, Maurice yielded to one of
those spasmodic attacks of hopefulness of his, without which life to
him would not have been worth living. Might it not be that the day of
reckoning was at hand?

"Why don't we move, Lieutenant?" he made bold to ask. "What are we
waiting for?"

Rochas made a gesture, which the other interpreted to mean that no
orders had been received. Presently he asked:

"Has anybody seen the captain?"

No one answered. Jean remembered perfectly having seen him making for
Sedan the night before, but to the soldier who knows what is good for
himself, his officers are always invisible when they are not on duty. He
held his tongue, therefore, until happening to turn his head, he caught
sight of a shadowy form flitting along the hedge.

"Here he is," said he.

It was Captain Beaudoin in the flesh. They were all surprised by the
nattiness of his appearance, his resplendent shoes, his well-brushed
uniform, affording such a striking contrast to the lieutenant's pitiful
state. And there wa