"Welcome, kinsman Guillaume," said the host, rising and presenting his hand; "what news bring you from the head-quarters of M. de Contades?"
"This despatch, monseigneur," replied the hussar, delivering an oblong letter sealed with yellow wax, and making a profound salute.
"When did you leave?"
"This morning, monseigneur."
"Ma foi! you must have come at a good pace to reach Ysembourg by this time."
"I dined early at Helingenstadt, and when I have dined well and drunk good wine, somehow my horse always goes well. The wine communicates itself through the spur-rowels, I think. 'Tis sixty miles and more from Helingenstadt to this, so as the sight of these viands makes me hungry again, I shall join you gentlemen. Thus hunger, a long ride over a snow-covered country—snow—ouf! it is six feet deep at Hesse Cassel—with a young appetite, are capital sauce to a meal, and if your cook equals your maitre d'hôtel, my dear maréchal—Grands Dieux! what have we here?—a ragout—delightful!—gigot de mouton, with force-meat balls, like grape and canister shot. Monjoy, I shall trouble you for a slice. Parbleu! my friends, where did you pick up all these dainties? I thought those active devils, the Black Hussars of His Prussian Majesty, had swept everything but snow and icicles out of Hesse and Westphalia. Monjoy, mon cher, what does that silver jug contain?"
"Champagne-punch, chevalier."
"Made how?"
"One bottle of claret to three of champagne, with some sugar, a little hot water, a squeeze or so of a lemon, and after a few glasses——"
"One may see all the sentinels and outposts double their usual number, and the main body quite what M. le Maréchal wishes it to be, before beating up the quarters of Prince Ferdinand, mon brave; hand it over here!"