The old man wondered not a little at these words, and would gladly have inquired who the unknown "some one" was.
"But now my engagements call me away," concluded the young officer, and he took his leave before the other could question him further.
Soon after he had gone a waiter appeared with coffee, which, in spite of the old priest's protestations that he never took any breakfast and was in general a very light eater, the German domestic insisted on leaving upon the table. At length, as the coffee was there on his hands, the reverend gentleman proceeded to drink it in God's name; for it would have to be paid for in any case. The warm breakfast did him good. The servant now appeared, to carry away the breakfast service. The old gentleman had learned one German word on his journey, and he hastened to make use of it.
"Pay?" he said inquiringly, producing from the depths of his pocket a long knit purse, a birthday present from his daughter, in which his scanty savings were carefully hoarded. He wished to settle at once for his breakfast, both because it troubled him to be in debt for even an hour, and also that he might gain some idea from this first payment how much his total daily expenses would probably be.
Great was his surprise, however, when the waiter, smiling politely and waving aside the offered purse, assured him that the breakfast was already paid for.
"So that young man was right, after all," said the good priest to himself. "Why didn't I ask him his name? But who can it be that is paying my bills?"
The unknown benefactor was, of course, none other than Richard Baradlay, who, on leaving the hotel, had handed the head waiter two ducats and bidden him provide for all the old gentleman's wants, adding that he, Baradlay, would pay the bill. After that the young officer repaired to the military riding school and exercised for an hour in vaulting, fencing on horseback, breaking a lance or two, and mastering a vicious horse. Then he went to walk for an hour around the fortifications, looked at all the pretty faces he met, and at length, toward noon, returned to his quarters. He kept bachelor's hall on the fourth floor, occupying a sitting-room and a bedroom, while across the passageway was a little room for his servant, and a diminutive kitchen.
His domestic was an old hussar who answered to the name of Paul, and who was rather more inclined to command his master than to receive orders from him. He was sixty years old and more, and still a private and a bachelor. He was serving out his fourth enlistment and wore on his breast the cross given to the veterans of the Napoleonic wars.
"Well, Paul, what is there to eat to-day?" asked the captain, unbuckling his sword and hanging it up in his closet, which showed a collection of ancient swords and daggers.
The reader must here be informed that Paul was at once body-servant and cook to his young master.