"'It's all for Zwilk,' answered Schmied. 'You know he is going to be made adjutant to Prince Schirmberg.'
"'Adjutant to a prince!' It was the old stranger who cried out, proud, excited, turning his head from one to the other.
"Erich had continued to do the honors with all the courtesy of your true aristocrat to the plebeian who has not as yet stretched out a hand toward any of his prerogatives. The little old man had grown quite confiding: he looked up now in Erich's face and asked, 'You know him well?'
"'He is my comrade,' answered Truyn. 'I wish I could call myself as admirable an officer as he is. He is one of the best in the service, and he has a brilliant career before him.'
"Truyn liked Zwilk as little as the rest of us, but he wanted to give the old man pleasure, and that he could do without falsehood.
"The stranger stripped off his mittens, and put his knuckles to his wet eyes.
"'I thank you, I thank you,' he sobbed like a child. 'He's my son. I wanted to see him, long, long, but he was so far away and he never could come home,--but he wrote,--such beautiful letters. The priest, himself, couldn't beat them; and,--and--now, I was going to surprise him, but--will he--will he like it, Herr Lieutenant, after all? Look you,--I'm afraid,--he such a grand gentleman, and I'--
"Zwilk's voice sounded from within, hard and merciless, rating a common soldier: then he walked into the yard.
"Arm in arm with Prince Liscat, varnished, laced, buckled, strapped, affected and arrogant, one hand on his moustache, he simpered through his teeth:
"'You're much too good, Bonbon. You don't know how to treat the canaille. The Pleb must be trodden on, else he will grow up over our heads.'