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"Fair ladies, I like you as dessert! By my major's epaulets, when

a man has eaten breakfast, the best relish after the stewed beef

is chatting with such fair ladies as you fair ladies! I tell you

what: let's have a game of cards, of vingt et un or whist; or

shall we start a mazurka? Hey, in the name of three hundred

devils, why, I am the best dancer of the mazurka in the whole

yager regiment!"

Thereupon he leaned forward closer to the ladies, and puffed out

smoke and compliments by turns.

"Let's dance!" cried Robak. "When I have finished my bottle,

though a monk, I occasionally tuck up my gown, and dance a bit of

a mazurka! But you see, Major, we are drinking here and the

yagers are freezing there in the yard. Sport is sport! Judge,

give them a keg of brandy; the Major will permit it; let the bold

yagers have a drink!"

"I might beg the favour," said the Major, "but you are not forced

to grant it."

"Judge," whispered Robak, "give 'em a keg of spirits."