All his labour had been in vain with Trautvetter. The one year volunteer was a ne'er-do-weel, a drunkard, a debauchee, and a useless fool on duty into the bargain. And he had command of considerable supplies of money, which, being an orphan and of age, he could spend as he pleased. All means had failed with him: punishment drill, being reported, deprivation of leave, and being put under arrest. So at last Wegstetten decided to send him to live in barracks. Trautvetter, a bull-necked, square-shouldered man, with a broad chest, took this punishment with great equanimity. He arranged his belongings complacently in his locker and looked calmly round the bare room. His little eyes had a bleary look of perpetual drunkenness, which obscured the hearty, good-humoured expression really natural to them. It was all one to him where he lived: was there not beer in the canteen? and if one paid for it the canteen-keeper, despite the prohibition, would let one have a case of bottled ale. The non-coms, of course would drink with him; then they would all be a pleasant company together. He was right in his calculations: none of them could withstand the good cigars and drinks which he distributed freely. Even the sergeant-major took to joining them; such a chance was not to be let slip. But the deputy sergeant-major, Heimert, kept his distance; he was occupied with preparing for his approaching marriage. And Sergeant Wiegandt preferred walking with his sweetheart Frieda in the quiet evenings. A special relation soon established itself between Frielinghausen and the one-year volunteer. Trautvetter had been a couple of terms at Breslau, and the education they had both received gave them something in common. Frielinghausen had a good time now. Trautvetter paid for him and let him take part in his amusements and pleasures. It even seemed as though Trautvetter had some honourable feeling towards the young baron, for he sternly refused ever to let him join in the gambling with which the drinking-bouts soon came to be enlivened. The one-year volunteer had his reasons for this. His luck remained faithful to him with almost puzzling persistency. His little swimming eyes seemed to hypnotise the dealer when they were playing cards, and his big fat hands had nothing to do but to rake in the winnings. He had not the least scruple in taking money from the sergeant-major and Trumpeter-sergeant Henke, who were usually his adversaries--why else did the fellows play with him? but he did not like winning from Frielinghausen. When the two non-commissioned officers had lost all their money, Trautvetter had no objection to lending, and let them give him notes-of-hand, which at last amounted to very considerable sums. He had not, indeed, any real intention of claiming repayment; but these I.O.U.'s were very useful weapons in his hand, and it was not long before the sergeant-major had to dance to his piping.