"No," declared Von Wedel, leering at them through his light, vague eyes. "No. You don't leave this room. Not all three together. Only one at a time; then we're sure she'll come back."
So they clung together with pale bewildered faces, whispering to each other every now and then the comforting words, "They will go away in the morning."
But the morning was not yet.
When Captain Fischer suggested that it was time to go to bed, the others called him an old screech-owl; whereupon Captain Fischer explained to them at great length that military discipline did not permit them to call him a screech-owl. And he called Louise to witness that he had been called a screech-owl.
But now Feldmann was singing "Gaudeamus igitur," so the captain joined in too.
"Come along," said Von Wedel, lurching towards Chérie with two glasses in his hand; "come, turtle-dove, Brüdershaft trinken!" He forced one of the glasses into her hand. "You must drink the pledge of brotherhood with us. Like this"—and he made her stand face to face with him, pushing his left arm through hers and raising his glass in his right hand.
Chérie shrank back, seeking refuge behind Louise. But he dragged her forward and caught her by the arm again.
"Obedience!" he roared, scowling at her. "Now sing; 'Lebe, liebe, trinke, schwärme'—and when I get to the words 'froh mit mir,' we clink our glasses together."
"Please not! please not!" implored Chérie.
"Froh mit mir"—repeated he, glaring at her through his heavy lids. And he sang: