The speech with which he greeted the regiment held the happy mean between theatrical gush and a sermon. It was adorned with pompous imagery, and contained numerous eulogiums of the reigning family. "Christian humility" and "God's assistance" played a great part therein, and it dealt rude thrusts at those who waged war in secret upon the sup-porters of throne and altar. The acidulated vituperative voice of the major gave the whole performance an indescribably comical effect; the bold artillerymen, standing at attention, got stiff necks, aching knees, and dizzy heads from listening so long to these flowers of speech. After this Major Mohbrinck had all the officers of the regiment brought up and introduced to him. One thing was to be noted: he had a nice perception for everything that was useful and paying. He had taken care to be well instructed in all particulars before his arrival in the garrison. He seemed at once to be hand in glove with the adjutant, Kauerhof. This was, of course, because the adjutant's wife, Marion Kauerhof, _née_ von Lüben, was the daughter of an important personage in the War Office. The adjutant presented the other men according to their seniority in rank. First came the two majors. Lischke received a studiously polite greeting; Schrader was far more graciously treated--was not the smart bachelor a notable waltzer at court balls? He was often commanded to dance with the princesses, and, people said, regaled the royal ladies with many little stories which they would never otherwise have had a chance of hearing. Next approached Staff-Captain von Stuckhardt. He found himself very coolly received by the new chief. What was the use of troubling much with any one who was known to be a predestined dead man? Stuckhardt stepped back feeling considerably snubbed. Träger, Gropphusen, and Heuschkel got rather neutral pressures of the hand; Gropphusen, perhaps, being of noble family, was greeted rather more warmly than the others. Kauerhof proceeded with his introductions: "And now, sir, here is the head of our sixth battery, Captain von Wegstetten." Mohbrinck twisted his lips into a honied smile. For Wegstetten had a cousin, about seven times removed, who was something of a celebrity, not so much on account of his martial exploits as because he was ninety-eight years of age, the oldest soldier in the army, and a former adjutant-general of his late Majesty. Uncle Ehrenfried, dried up like a mummy, had some difficulty in even sitting upright in his wheel-chair; and for years it had been impossible to carry on an articulate conversation with him. But his immense age lent a certain _cachet_ to his nephew, the chief of the sixth battery. If the mummy were really to attain his century, or were to die on some marked day--a royal birthday or funeral--the services of a Wegstetten to the reigning family would show in a dazzling light, the reflection of which could not be disregarded by an acute man like Mohbrinck.