The officers of the second division of the regiment were in the habit of going occasionally to the Auer, a lonely forest tavern, during the summer months, to play skittles. The Auer was about an hour's distance from the garrison, and lay nearly in the middle of the pine forest, which extended over the mountains and beyond the frontier. The younger men bicycled there and back, while their elders either rode or drove. Major Schrader arranged these excursions, and bore the expenses himself. They were partly intended to provide opportunities for personal intercourse between him and his officers.
He declared himself a lover of rural life, and the party always fell in with country ways quite contentedly. Pilsener beer was the tipple, or, at most, a little brandy or gin; and in the way of food, fresh eggs and butter, black country bread and strong ham, played the principal parts. Scandal-mongers of course wanted to know whether, the Auer's landlady had been a former sweetheart of the major's, and Schrader defended himself laughingly against the insinuation; although he need not have been ashamed of the dignified, buxom woman, so scrupulously neat and clean. It certainly was a fact that no one ever saw the landlord of the Auer, and that the landlady's two smart boys, who helped so cheerfully in picking up the skittles, bore a striking resemblance to the major.
It was in the courtyard of the Auer tavern, when, after one of these excursions of Major Schrader's, they were getting their bicycles out of the shed, that Landsberg's rancour broke out.
He had not been thinking about his grievances at the moment. He had preferred a stronger drink than the light beer, had almost emptied a half bottle of gin, and was more inclined for sleep than for anything else, so that he did not find his bicycle quickly. Güntz made some harmless chaffing remark, and a violent quarrel broke out.
Finally Güntz turned away, shrugging his shoulders. He considered that Landsberg was drunk. But the lieutenant suddenly ran after him and aimed a blow at him, striking him on the arm. The other men at once threw themselves between the two, and held Landsberg fast. The young fellow, perfectly mad with rage, kicked out with his feet and literally foamed at the mouth.
Schrader had him taken home in a carriage by his adjutant and Captain Madelung. To Reimers he said: "My dear Reimers, you will see that your friend Güntz goes home quietly, won't you?" And Reimers replied: "Yes, sir."
Güntz signed to his friend to remain behind. From the dark skittle-alley they could watch their comrades starting for the town, all much depressed by the untoward occurrence, speaking in undertones, and accompanying their whispered words with restrained gestures.
For a few minutes Güntz walked silently up and down the gravel-strewn skittle-alley. Reimers sat down in a small arbour, where the empty barrel still lay upon a bed of ice. When Güntz stood still, Reimers could hear the drops of the melting ice falling into the earthen basin. Otherwise all was silent, until the steps on the crunching gravel approached once more.
"I think we can go now," said Güntz, in his calm voice, which only sounded a little harder than usual.
Reimers answered: "All right, if you like."