, the picture of Joseph Poniatowski crossing the Elster on his
horse. This monotonous decoration, recalling nevertheless our military
glories, fascinated the Captain without doubt, for, without concerning
himself with the uncomfortable straw chairs, the walnut furniture, or
the little bed with its yellowed curtain, he took the room without
hesitation. A quarter of an hour was enough to empty his trunk, hang up
his clothes, put his boots in a corner, and ornament the wall with a
trophy composed of three pipes, a sabre, and a pair of pistols. After a
visit to the grocer's, over the way, where he bought a pound of candles
and a bottle of rum, he returned, put his purchase on the mantle-shelf,
and looked around him with an air of perfect satisfaction. And then,
with the promptitude of the camp, he shaved without a mirror, brushed
his coat, cocked his hat over his ear, and went for a walk in the
village in search of a cafe.

II.

It was an inveterate habit of the Captain to spend much of his time at a
cafe. It was there that he satisfied at the same time the three vices
which reigned supreme in his heart--tobacco, absinthe, and cards. It was
thus that he passed his life, and he could have drawn a plan of all the
places where he had ever been stationed by their tobacco shops, cafes,
and military clubs. He never felt himself so thoroughly at ease as when
sitting on a worn velvet bench before a square of green cloth near a
heap of beer-mugs and saucers. His cigar never seemed good unless he
struck his match under the marble of the table, and he never failed,
after hanging his hat and his sabre on a hat-hook and settling himself
comfortably, by unloosing one or two buttons of his coat, to breathe a
profound sigh of relief, and exclaim,

"That is better!"

His first care was, therefore, to find an establishment which he could
frequent, and after having gone around the village without finding
anything that suited him, he stopped at last to regard with the eye of a
connoisseur the Cafe Prosper, situated at the corner of the Place du
Marche and the Rue de la Pavoisse.

It was not his ideal. Some of the details of the exterior were too
provincial: the waiter, in his black apron, for example, the little
stands in their green frames, the footstools, and the wooden tables
covered with waxed cloth. But the interior pleased the Captain. He was
delighted upon his entrance by the sound of the bell which was touched
by the fair and f