‘So, then!’ cried a deep soldierlike voice from the far end of the table, which I at once recognised as the general-in-chief s—‘so, then, gentlemen, we have now the honour of seeing amongst us the hero of the Rhine! This is the distinguished individual by whose prowess the passage of the river was effected, and the Swabian infantry cut off in their retreat! Is it not true, sir?’ said he, addressing me with a savage scowl.
‘I have had my share in the achievement,’ said I, with the cool air of defiance.
‘Parbleu! you are modest, sir. So had every drummer-boy that beat his tattoo! But yours was the part of a great leader, if I err not?’
I made no answer, but stood firm and unmoved.
‘How do you call the island which you have immortalised by your valour?’
‘The Fels Insel, sir.’
‘Gentlemen, let us drink to the hero of the Fels Insel,’ said he, holding up his glass for the servant to fill it. ‘A bumper—a full, a flowing bumper! And let him also pledge a toast in which his interest must be so brief. Give him a glass, Contard.’
The order was obeyed in a second; and I, summoning up all my courage to seem as easy and indifferent as they were, lifted the glass to my lips, and drained it off.