The cavalry captain pulled up a chair and seated himself comfortably, stretching his legs out under the table. Meanwhile Paul, his hands on his hips, thus addressed his master: "So we are stranded again, are we,--not a kreutzer in our pockets?" "Not a solitary one, as sure as you live," answered Richard, as he took up his knife and fork and began to beat a tattoo on his plate. "But this morning I found two ducats in your vest pocket," remarked the old servant. Captain Richard laughed and asked, in expressive pantomime: "Where are they now?" "Good!" muttered the other, as he took up the decanter that stood before his master's plate and went out. Having brought it back filled with wine, which he had procured in some way, he set it down again and resumed his discourse. "No doubt they went to buy a bouquet for a pretty girl," said he. "Or have the boys drunk them up in champagne?" With that he took up a plate with a sadly nicked edge from the sideboard and added, with philosophic resignation, as he went out: "Well, I was just that way when I was young." Soon he returned, bearing his master's dinner. The "Greek rose-garland" proved to be a dish of beans, while the "angels' slippers," cooked with them, were nothing but pigs' feet. The old hussar had prepared the meal for himself, but there was enough for two, and Richard attacked the camp fare with as keen a relish as if he had never known anything better in his life. While he ate, his old servant stood behind his chair, although his services were not needed, as there were no plates to change, the first course being also the last. "Has any one called?" asked Richard as he ate. "Any one called? Why, yes, we have had some callers." "Who were they?" "First the maid-servant of the actress--not the blonde one, but the other, the pug-nosed one. She brought a bouquet and a letter. I stuck the flowers into a pitcher in the kitchen, gave the maid a pinch on the cheek, and kindled the fire with the letter." "The deuce take you!" exclaimed Richard; "what made you burn up the letter?" "It asked for money from the captain," was the reply. "But how did you know that, Paul? I thought you couldn't read." "I smelt it." Richard laughed aloud. "Well, who else has been here?" he asked. "The young gentleman." This title was always used by Paul to designate one particular person. "My brother? What did he wish?" As if in answer to this inquiry, the young gentleman suddenly appeared in person. The youngest Baradlay was a slender youth of frail physique. On his smooth, boyish face sat a somewhat affected expression of amiability, and if he carried his head rather high, it was not from pride, but on account of the eye-glasses which he wore on his nose. As he shook hands with his older brother, the latter was somehow reminded of the regulation that requires certain government officials, as a part of their duties, to show the utmost courtesy to every one--_ex officio_. "Your servant, Jenő. What's up now?"