“In mushroom gravy, dashed with anchovy.”
“Another slice, if you’ll permit me,” pop! “That flask has burst its bonds in time; I was wishing to taste your ‘OEil de Perdrix.’”
The outposts were driven in by this time, and the heavy guns of the engagement were brought down; in other words, the braten, a goodly dish of veal, garnished with every incongruity the mind of man could muster, entered; which, while the host carved at the side-board, the Colonel devoured in his imagination, comforting himself the while by a salmi of partridges with truffles.
Some invaluable condiment had, however, been forgotten with the veal, and the host bustled out of the room in search of it. The door had not well closed, when the Colonel dashed out a goblet of Champagne, and drank it at a draught; then, springing from the window into the Platz, where already the shadow of evening was falling, was immediately replaced by the Major, whose dress and general appearance were sufficiently like his own to deceive any stranger.
Helping himself without loss of time to the salmi, he ate away, like one whose appetite had suffered a sore trial from suspense.
The salmi gave place to the veal, and the veal to the baked pike; for so it is, the stomach, in Germany, is a kind of human ark, wherein, though there is little order in the procession, the animals enter whole and entire. The host watched his guest’s performance, and was in ecstasies—good things never did meet with more perfect appreciation; and as for the wine, he drank it like a Swabian, whole goblets full at a draught. At length, holding up an empty flask, he cried out “Champagne!” And away trotted the fat man to his cellar, rather surprised, it is true, how rapidly three flasks of his “Aï Mousseux” had disappeared.
This was now the critical moment, and with a half-sigh of regret, the Major leaped into the street, and the first Captain relieved the guard.
Poor fellow, he was fearfully hungry, and helped himself to the first dish before him, and drank from the bottle at his side, like one whose stomach had long ceased to be pampered by delicacies.
“Du Heiliger!” cried the host to himself, as he stood behind his chair, and surveyed the performance. “Du Heiliger! how he does eat, one wouldn’t suppose he had been at it these fifty minutes; art ready for the capon now?” continued he, as he removed the keel and floor timbers of a saddle of mutton.
“The capon,” sighed the other; “Yes, the capon, now.” Alas! he knew that delicious dish was reserved for his successor. And so it was; before the host re-entered, the second Captain had filled his glass twice, and was anxiously sitting in expectation of the capon.