“But he must turn whichever way the wind blows, like any other well-regulated weather-vane,” said Wrangel, “or I shan’t pay for it.”
The Uhlan was made, put on the roof and the General was informed of it. Well pleased, Wrangel went to the window.
“Why I can’t see him, you swindler!”
“But your Excellency——”
“Oh, pshaw, there are dozens of Excellencies. I am General-Field-Marshal.”
“But Herr General-Field-Marshal; you cannot see the weather-vane on the roof, while you are under it.”
“Yes, yes, that is true; but what good is the weather-vane to me, if I can’t see it?”
After thinking it over for some time, Wrangel stated the case to the French Ambassador across the street, who was perfectly willing to have the Uhlan put on the roof of his house. Now Wrangel could see the Uhlan from his room, and always knew which way the wind blew. Could he possibly have known, what he did, when he put the Uhlan on the Frenchman’s roof?