I thrust my hands into the pockets of my wide trunk-hose, and what do you suppose I found in one of them? The dangerous thaler! It had not occurred to the Frenchmen to search me!
"I don't see how such a thing could happen," in a puzzled tone, observed the prince.
"There is no mystery about it," returned the chair. "The coin was a 'breeding-thaler'—as it is called. A breeding-thaler will return to the pocket of its owner, no matter how often he may spend it. If, however, he bestows it as a gift on any one, it will not return to him; but to the person to whom he has given it."
"Ah, had I only known that sooner!" in a tone of deep regret, murmured the delinquent.
CHAPTER II.
THE HUSBAND OF THE WIFE OF ANOTHER MAN.
The breeding-thaler was not of much use to me, for I was in a region where there was nothing I cared to purchase.
I was with the French camp in front of the city of Lille, where I had been assigned to the artillery, because I had admitted that I knew something about the management of cannon.
It was a miserable existence: crouched day and night in the trenches; or, on the lookout for the grenades, which were hurled into our camp from the city we were besieging.
But I could have endured all the hardships if I had had enough to eat. The French general would not allow any vivandières with spiritous liquors to enter the battery; the gunners, he said, must remain sober; and that they might not want to drink, they were given very little to eat, as eating promotes thirst. If I sent a sapper with a jug to the canteen for beer, he would invariably return with the empty jug, and swear he had lost the thaler I had given him on the way—which was true; for, no matter how often I tried it, the coin would be back in my pocket before the messenger had been gone five minutes. The consequence was I was in a continual state of hunger and thirst.