selves, and went all together in search of the gentleman's
house. In the square by the church they were told they could get
to His Excellency's by the lower path--going down behind the
church to the river, going along the bank to the garden, and there
an avenue would taken them to the house; or by the upper way--
straight from the church by the road which, half a mile from the
village, led right up to His Excellency's granaries. The officers
decided to go by the upper way.

"What Von Rabbek is it?" they wondered on the way. "Surely not the
one who was in command of the N---- cavalry division at Plevna?"

"No, that was not Von Rabbek, but simply Rabbe and no 'von.'"

"What lovely weather!"

At the first of the granaries the road divided in two: one branch
went straight on and vanished in the evening darkness, the other
led to the owner's house on the right. The officers turned to the
right and began to speak more softly. . . . On both sides of the
road stretched stone granaries with red roofs, heavy and sullen-looking,
very much like barracks of a district town. Ahead of them gleamed
the windows of the manor-house.

"A good omen, gentlemen," said one of the officers. "Our setter is
the foremost of all; no doubt he scents game ahead of us! . . ."

Lieutenant Lobytko, who was walking in front, a tall and stalwart
fellow, though entirely without moustache (he was over five-and-twenty,
yet for some reason there was no sign of hair on his round, well-fed
face), renowned in the brigade for his peculiar faculty for divining
the presence of women at a distance, turned round and said:

"Yes, there must be women here; I feel that by instinct."

On the threshold the officers were met by Von Rabbek himself, a
comely-looking man of sixty in civilian dress. Shaking hands with
his guests, he said that he was very glad and happy to see them,
but begged them earnestly for God's sake to excuse him for not
asking them to stay the night; two sisters with their children,
some brothers, and some neighbours, had come on a visit to him, so
that he had not one spare room left.

The General shook hands with every one, made his apologies, and
smiled, but it was evident by his face that he was by no means so
delighted as their last year's count, and that he had invited the
officers simply because, in his opinion, it was a social obligation
to do so. And the officers themselves, as they walked up the softly
carpeted stairs, as they listen