"By the way," said the General, "I don't suppose you'll have any objection to joining me in a glass of wine? Thoughts and words often flow more freely, and ideas spring more quickly under the gentle influence.
"Thank you, sir, nothing would please me better."
"Charles," said the General, as the butler appeared in answer to the bell, "go down to the cellar and bring a bottle of '89 Berncastler Doktor, and please be quick."
Charles bowed and left the room. After waiting a while the General pulled out his watch and growled impatiently.
"Confound that fellow, I wonder what he is up to," he shouted, after waiting in vain for a quarter of an hour, and going to the bell he tugged the cord violently. "Does he suppose that I, a General of the French army, am to be kept waiting by a mere servant?"
At this moment his valet, a tall, military-looking man named Robert, entered the room and saluted.
"Robert," he thundered, "what the devil does this mean? Mille Tonneres! what is that fellow Charles doing? I sent him down for a bottle of wine nearly half-an-hour ago. Go and find him at once. Sac—r—re Bleu! This is mutiny," he yelled.
Robert saluted and backed out.
Presently he returned with the cook supporting Charles, who was trembling from head to foot.