"The old frau is slow," said the German to Pierre. "The officers are growing impatient. She had better hurry, or there will be trouble." "Madame la marquise will serve the dinner when it is ready," said Pierre, quietly. "Teufel! You are insolent," cried the orderly, striking the old man across the face. Burton smothered the exclamation that rose to his lips. The marquise flashed at the German such a look of indignant scorn that he was abashed, and went out muttering sullenly. "The visit of that horrible man," the old lady went on, ignoring the underling’s brutality, "is not accidental, I am sure. He contemplates vengeance. He was dismissed with contumely, and I fear he will make my poor son pay." Burton could only murmur his sympathy. He watched with admiration the quick, deft actions of the marquise, who prepared the dinner as skilfully as her own cook could have done. There was no opportunity for further conversation. The orderly returned, and lolled in a chair, commenting on the old lady’s movements in offensive tones that made Burton tingle. When the dishes were ready, the marquise told Pierre to carry them in. "No, no, old witch," said the orderly, with a chuckle. "The Herr Major is very particular; she must serve him herself." Pierre translated this to his mistress, protesting that she must not submit to such indignity. "Eh bien, mon ami," she said, "they cannot hurt me more. For my son’s sake I will be cook and bonne in one. Carry the dishes; I will show them how a marquise waits at table." Burton assisted the old man to convey the dishes to the dining-room, following the marquise. At their entrance there was a shout of laughter. Four officers sat at the table--the major, his captain, and two moon-faced lieutenants. "Where are your cap and apron, wench?" cried the major. "Go and put them on at once. And make that dumb dog there understand that he is not to bring his dirty face inside; he can hand the things to you through the hatch." The marquise compressed her lips, and, without replying, returned to the kitchen, and came back in a maid’s cap and apron. What was meant for indignity and insult seemed to Burton, watching from the hatch, to enhance the lady’s dignity. She moved about the table with the quickness of a waiting maid and the proud bearing of a queen, paying no heed to the coarse pleasantries of the Germans, or to their complaints of the food, of which, nevertheless, they devoured large quantities. "A tough fowl, this," said the major, "as old as the old hen herself." "Ha, ha!" laughed his juniors, in whom the champagne they had already drunk induced a facile admiration of the major’s wit.