"Thou, indeed!" grumbled a voice from within; "I'll hear something more civil first!"
"No arguing, nephew, but turn out, unless you wish your house turned upside down, and yourself left under the clear sky!"
An old grayheaded man appeared. "It is a long time since I was called 'nephew,'" he murmured.
"How old are you?" asked the hussar.
"Some sixty years."
"Pooh! thou art a boy, nephew! I am five years thy senior; forward!—march!"
As the boat put off with the hussars, a chasseur, who was observing their motions from the other side, called across the water in German.
"Cannot you see that we are hussars?" was the reply, in Hungarian.
The soldier levelled his musket and fired, and the ball went through the old hussar's csako. He turned impatiently to the recruit, who had moved his head as the ball whistled past his ear.
"Why do you bend your head?—the balls must fall on one side or on the other; and thou, nephew, get from under my horse, and pull away by the rope."