"You see, sergeant," he said, "my plan has been a success. I think we will let him out of barracks again. You can tell him so."
Trautvetter had also returned all his notes-of-hand to his other debtor, Trumpeter-sergeant Henke.
The cornet-player did not feel constrained to any special feeling of gratitude for this. He had never had the smallest intention of repaying the money, some hedge-lawyer having advised him of the fact that gambling debts were not legally recoverable.
Why therefore should he be grateful?
Lisbeth, on the contrary, his pretty fair-haired wife, was profoundly touched by Trautvetter's generosity.
"Dear, dear!" she sighed, "what a kind good man that volunteer must be, to give away such a lot of money!"
The trumpeter laughed at her: "Silly goose!" he said, "haven't I told you that they were gambling debts, and he could never have claimed them?"
"Well," remarked Lisbeth, "there were others too. Your new uniform was bought with the borrowed money, your beautiful patent leather shoes too, and half-a-dozen pairs of white gloves."
Her husband did not care to remember this: "Hold your tongue!" he growled; but his pretty wife insisted: "No, no, he must be a good kind man!"
"A drunken fat pig, that's what he is!" said Henke. "You can see that at a glance."