Oberlé stepped out of the ranks. Without relaxing the severity of his expression, the colonel fixed his eyes for a few moments on the young man's face, thinking to himself that here was the brother of the Lucienne Oberlé whose hand he had allowed Lieutenant Farnow to ask in marriage. "That's right," he said; and saluting rapidly he walked away, his grey cloak swelling with the north wind. As he disappeared, a lieutenant in the 1st regiment, adjutant-major of the Rhenish Hussars, a well-made, distinguished-looking man, bearing himself in the correct military style, a perfect man of the world, came towards the group of volunteers, and read an order assigning to each one his appointed place in such and such a company and squadron. Jean was to join the 3rd company of the 2nd squadron. "No luck," murmured his neighbour: "that's Gottfried Hamm's company." Henceforward the fifteen volunteers were part of the army; each one had his allotted place in that well-disciplined multitude, their responsible chiefs, the right to demand a uniform from such and such a depot, a horse from such and such a stable. To this they now turned their attention. Jean and his chance companion, son of a librarian of Leipzig, made their way to the top floor of the barrack, entered the clothing-stores and received their uniforms, leaving behind various articles, such as cavalry cloaks and pairs of boots, which the _kammer-sergeant_ was pleased to accept for himself as a token of welcome, or undertook to remit to certain non-commissioned officers of the company. It was a long business, and did not finish till past ten. Then there was a visit to the principal brusher's room, where there was the little wardrobe of white wood, used henceforth in common by the volunteer and the soldier; and there was still the visit to the stable sergeant, whose duty it was to assign to each his horse and second brusher; then another to the regimental tailor; it was past midday when Jean was able to leave the barracks and lunch hastily.