“I haven’t dodged it. I gave you my candid opinion that you were not present at Magenta; and I don’t think there is an officer in the regiment who believes you were there.”
“Isn’t the word of an officer and a gentleman to be accepted?”
“Certainly, if he keeps within the bounds of reason; but when you talk about the Russians at Magenta, and over seven thousand cannons in a single army, we know that you are either ‘drawing the long-bow,’ or laboring under some strange delusion. Supper is ready.”
“We can eat and talk too.” And they did. “May I be allowed to ask, Lieutenant Somers, if you deem my statement inconsistent with reason?”
“To be sure I do. We have six guns to a battery; seventy-two hundred guns would make twelve hundred batteries. We have about one hundred and fifty men to a battery, which would make one hundred and eighty thousand men in the artillery arm alone; which is positively ridiculous. You said Russians——”
“Of course, that was a slip of the tongue. I meant Prussians,” added the captain, entirely overwhelmed by the lieutenant’s arithmetic, as well as by the laughter of Captain Benson and Lieutenant Munroe, who belonged to the mess.
“Worse yet,” said Somers. “They were Austrians. Now, captain, you are a brave man, and a splendid fellow; but I think it is a great pity you should tell such abominably great stories.”
“I accept the apology,” laughed Captain de Banyan. “We will call it square, and turn in; for I think that we shall have hot work to-morrow.”