St. Florian stole three. "Ah treacherous!" exclaimed the girl, striking him playfully with her hand, and skipping away. "Peste!" said the captain, twirling his moustache; "but your little fingers smart, my pretty one." "Now for the other story, Monsieur St. Florian," said I, when the bright wine sparkled in the tall glasses, and our fair attendant had withdrawn. "I would fain learn why an old soldier dislikes any sort of wine. I have often drank ditch-water on the line of march, and have gladly filled my canteen from the ruts of the artillery wheels----" "And so have I a thousand times, but my dislike to mulled port arises from something more than mere prejudice--bah! this is worth an ocean of a muddy drench, boiled in a kettle with sugar and cloves. See how it sparkles when the glass is raised to the light. Ma foi! 't is like a glass full of diamonds. We shall drink to the emperor." "I have no objection." "I hope the door is closed, though. Paris is such a city for espionage, police, and informers: Ouf! but 'Vive l'Empereur Napoleon!'" and he drained his long glass, while his dark eyes flashed with enthusiasm. "Long life to him!" said I, with a frankness that won the Frenchman's heart; "and now let me know the cause of this horror of mulled wine." "Perhaps you have already heard it. I well remember that it made a deuced noise at the time it occurred, and, save the maid of Zaragossa, there never was a woman so extolled by the Spaniards as she of whom I am about to speak,-- "THE WIDOW OF MADRID;" for so he named the following story. "It was in the month of December, when the immortal emperor and the victorious army of France captured Madrid, that Jacques Chataigneur, four officers of the Imperial Guard, and myself, were quartered, or rather, according to the unceremonious custom of war in the like cases, took the liberty of quartering ourselves, on a house in one of the most fashionable streets in the city. "Every place within the walls was full of our troops; horse and foot were swarming in tens of thousands; the red rosette and the banner of Castile and Leon had disappeared; the French eagle soared in triumph over the capital of the Spaniards. Every house, from the great palace of the Duke d'Ossuna to the poorest casa on the margin of the Manzanares, was undergoing a strict investigation, to discover where Messieurs the Spaniards had hid their doubloons and other valuables, for which the pouches and haversacks of our soldiers were yawning. "Our fellows were rather riotous, especially about the cafés and wine-houses, where every man drank his fill, without being at the expense of a single sou. The city was involved in chaos and uproar. Merci! 't was such a hubbub as you in all your service can never have witnessed; for, what with disarming the men, and running after pretty women, searching for wine, provisions, and plunder, our soldiers had quite enough of business on their hands.