out and bring them here."

I got up, for it was too hot in front of the fire, and Marchas went off:

"Do you want an idea?" "Yes." "Go and see the priest." "The priest? What
for?" "Ask him to supper, and beg him to bring a woman with him." "The
priest! A woman! Ha! ha! ha!"

But Marchas continued with extraordinary gravity: "I am not laughing; go
and find the priest and tell him how we are situated, and, as he must be
horribly dull, he will come. But tell him that we want one woman at
least, a lady, of course, since we, are all men of the world. He is sure
to know his female parishioners on the tips of his fingers, and if there
is one to suit us, and you manage it well, he will suggest her to you."

"Come, come, Marchas, what are you thinking of?" "My dear Garens, you can
do this quite well. It will even be very funny. We are well bred, by
Jove! and we will put on our most distinguished manners and our grandest
style. Tell the abbe who we are, make him laugh, soften his heart, coax
him and persuade him!" "No, it is impossible."

He drew his chair close to mine, and as he knew my special weakness, the
scamp continued: "Just think what a swaggering thing it will be to do and
how amusing to tell about; the whole army will talk about it, and it will
give you a famous reputation."

I hesitated, for the adventure rather tempted me, and he persisted:
"Come, my little Garens. You are the head of this detachment, and you
alone can go and call on the head of the church in this neighborhood. I
beg of you to go, and I promise you that after the war I will relate the
whole affair in verse in the Revue de Deux Mondes. You owe this much to
your men, for you have made them march enough during the last month."

I got up at last and asked: "Where is the priest's house?" "Take the
second turning at the end of the street, you will see an avenue, and at
the end of the avenue you will find the church. The parsonage is beside
it." As I went out, he called out: "Tell him the bill of fare, to make
him hungry!"

I discovered the ecclesiastic's little house without any difficulty; it
was by the side of a large, ugly brick church. I knocked at the door with
my fist, as there was neither bell nor knocker, and a loud voice from
inside asked: "Who is there?" To which I replied: "A quartermaster of
hussars."

I heard the noise of bolts and of a key being turned, and found myself
face to face with a tall priest with a large stomach, the chest