The clock struck eleven.
At half-past eleven Fougas began to see everything in a rosy cloud. He praised the Rhine wine highly, and thanked the Meisers for their hospitality. At midnight, he assured them of his highest esteem. At quarter past twelve, he embraced them. At half-past twelve, he delivered a eulogy on the illustrious John Meiser, his friend and benefactor. When he learned that John Meiser had died in that house, he poured forth a torrent of tears. At quarter to one, he assumed a confidential tone, and spoke of his son, whom he was going to make happy, and of the betrothed who was waiting for him. About one o'clock, he tasted a celebrated port wine which Frau Meiser had herself gone to bring from the cellar. About half-past one, his tongue thickened and his eyes grew dim; he struggled some time against drunkenness and sleepiness, announced that he was going to describe the Russian campaign, muttered the name of the Emperor, and slid under the table.
"You may believe me, if you will," said Frau Meiser to her husband, "this is not a man who has come into our house; it's the devil!"
"The devil!"
"If not, would I have advised you to give him a million? I heard a voice saying to me, 'If you do not obey the messenger of the Infernal powers, you will both die this very night.' It was on account of that, that I called him up stairs. Ah! if we had been doing business with a man, I would have told you to contest it in law to our last cent."
"As you please! So you're still making sport of my visions?"
"Forgive me, Claus dear; I was a fool!"
"And I've concluded I was, too."
"Poor innocent! Perhaps you too thought this was Colonel Fougas?"
"Certainly!"