"They were shocked at all three things," grinned Schubert, "but chiefly, I think, at the flogging."
"Bah! Such a tickling of a native's hide doesn't hurt him to speak of!
Wait until they see our court in the morning!"
It was that that raised the clamor. Even Schubert, who might be supposed to have won promotion because he could stay sober longer than the others, was beginning to grow noisy in his speech and to laugh without apparent reason. The rest were all already frankly drunk, and any excuse for dispute was a good one. They one and all, including Schubert, denied Sachse's contention that a flogging did not hurt enough to matter.
"I bet I could take one without winking!" Sachse announced.
Schubert's little bright pig-eyes gleamed through the smoke at that.
"Kurtz und gut!" he laughed. "There is a case of champagne unopened. I bet you that case of champagne that you lie! That you can not take a flogging!"
There was an united yelp of delight. The sergeants rose and gathered round Sachse. Schubert cursed them and drove them to the chairs again.
"Open that case of champagne!" he roared, and the Jew obeyed, setting the bottles on the table in two rows.
"I bet you those twelve bottles you dare not take a regular flogging, and that you can not endure it if you dare try!"
"I can stand as much as you!" hedged Sachse.