The Uhlans were considered a frightfully exclusive regiment, and the "Golden Butterflies" had made the greatest efforts to maintain friendly and cordial relations with them. At last they had succeeded, and to-day the Uhlans almost to a man had appeared; the most aristocratic of regiments had been _fêted_ with a costly dinner; and now, scarcely had the friendship been sealed when it was immediately threatened. All breathed more freely when at last they rose from the table; the "Golden Butterflies" were most anxious to talk to each other, and learn something more of their new comrade. Somebody or other must know something about him; the fellow must have some sort of reputation--as much as was possible for a commoner, of course--otherwise His Majesty would not have interested himself on his behalf. It was in this way that the men who had fallen into two groups--the guests, and the present and former officers--expressed their opinions; each had something to say as to his idea concerning the event. The "Golden Butterflies" surrounded the adjutant of the regiment, Count Wettborn; he had become quite white, and was nervously fidgeting with the laces of his faultless patent-leather boots. After the colonel the matter concerned him most closely of all; he was often the representative and delegate of the officers, and now, was he to become a representative of a Winkler, he, a count? He was tall, of proud, imposing appearance; on his breast glittered as his latest decoration an order of the Fourth Class, which he had won as leader of the ball at court. For two years he had occupied this proud position; it was not only a great honour for him, but also for the whole regiment, and when he had stepped back into the rank he had been named adjutant, and all had heartily concurred in this promotion, deeming him the most worthy among them. "But, count, do tell us, you must know something, who is this Winkler, then?" Anxiously they all looked at the count; dead silence reigned, they scarcely dared to breathe. "Gentlemen," at last said the adjutant, "whatever the colonel and I know we have just learnt from His Serene Highness. Old Winkler is a manufacturer." They felt as if a stone had been rolled from their hearts. A manufacturer! It was not up to much, certainly, and not to be compared, of course, with the social position of a country gentleman or a chamberlain; but still, Krupp had been nothing more nor less than a manufacturer, and the German Emperor had called him his friend before the whole world. A load was taken from their hearts; but immediately they all saw that the count had still something on his mind, and that the question of being a manufacturer had some connection with it. "And what does the fellow manufacture? Cannon or machines?" "Neither--trouser buttons." If a flash of lightning had suddenly struck the officers they could not have started more quickly and with greater horror.