So saying, he pulled out the Prussian permit.
"That is right," the sergeant said. "Your horses look very done."
"We have ridden from Coulommiers through Rozoy, and Normant."
"It would have been an easier road to have gone from Normant through Melun," the sergeant said. And he took out a map, and examined it. "No, I see le Chatelet is a more direct line."
"We have time to wait an hour," Ralph said, turning to Percy; "and it will be better for our beasts. See that they are rubbed down, and fed."
The sergeant gave a peremptory shout, and the master of the wine shop ran out. The sergeant pointed to the horses.
"Do you speak French?" he asked Ralph.
"No," Ralph said, "but my son does.
"Aaron, tell him to rub them down, and feed them well; and see to it, yourself. These dogs are capable of cheating even a horse."
Ralph then entered the cabaret, and called for some bread and cheese and a bottle of the best wine, with three glasses. The Prussian sergeant sat down with them, and talked of Germany for an hour. Then they started again, crossed the river and, an hour and a half later, entered Melun. Here, as they came in by the road from Fontainebleau--which was held in force by the Germans--no question was asked.