But in a moment he relaxed, and laying his hand on my arm, he exclaimed: "To think that you are Jews! a kind of abominable race; everything that is dirty and vile and niggardly! To think that you are Jews! It is true, is it not, that you are Jews?" "Yes, sir," replied Sorlé. "Well, upon my word, I am surprised to hear it," said he; "I have seen so many Jews, in Poland and Germany, that I thought to myself 'They are sending me to some Jews; they had better look out or I'll smash everything.'" We kept silent in our mortification, and he added, "Come, we will say no more about that. You are good, honest people; I should be sorry to trouble you. Your hand, Father Moses!" I gave him my hand. "I like you," said he. "Now, Madame Moses, the side room!" We showed him the small room that he asked for, and he went at once to fetch his knapsack from the other, saying as he went: "Now I am among honest people! We shall have no difficulty in getting along together. You do not trouble me, I do not trouble you; I come in and go out, by day or night; it is Sergeant Trubert, that is enough. And now and then, in the morning, we will take our little glass; it is agreed, is it not, Father Moses!" "Yes, sergeant." "And here is the key of the house," said Sorlé. "Very well; everything is arranged; now I am going to take a nap; good-by, my friends." "I hope you will sleep well, sergeant." We went out at once, and heard him lie down. "You see, Moses, you see," whispered my wife, in the alley, "it has all come right." "Yes," I replied, "all right, excellent; your plan was a good one; and now, if the spirits of wine only come, we shall be happy." VIII FATHER MOSES'S FIRST ENCOUNTER From that time the sergeant lived with us without troubling anybody. Every morning, before he went to his duties, he came and sat a few minutes in my room, and talked with me while he took his glass. He liked to laugh with Sâfel, and we called him "our sergeant," as if he were one of the family. He seemed to like to be with us; he was a careful man; he would not allow our _schabisboïé_ to black his shoes; he cleaned his own buff-skins, and would not let any one touch his arms. One morning, when I was going to answer to the call, he met me in the alley, and, seeing a little rust on my musket, he began to swear like the devil. "Ah! Father Moses, if I had you in my company, it would go hard with you!" "Yes," thought I; "but, thank God, I'm not." Sorlé, leaning over the balustrades above, laughed heartily. From that time the sergeant regularly inspected my equipments; I must clean my gun over and over, take it to pieces, clean the barrel and furbish the bayonet, as if I expected to go and fight. And even when he knew how Monborne treated me, he also wanted to teach me the exercises. All my remonstrances were of no avail, he would frown, and say: "Father Moses, I can't stand it, that an honest man like you should know less than the rabble. Go along!"