Andries. The word was given to stop, General.
Van Weller. He gave it, not I!
Andries. There was nothing about that in the orders, General.
Van Weller. I am in sole command here, of course. Now speak, you scoundrel, quickly! Out——
Frans. Oh, sir! I’m beginning! The next day——
Van Weller. What? What day? I know nothing yet!
Frans. Monsieur Socrates also knew nothing. The recognition of this fact is the source of all wisdom, General. I am telling you the story in my own way, beginning at the end. I belong to the school of M. Dumas and M. Sue.
Van Weller. Don’t wear out my patience any longer, fellow! Relate consecutively what took place on the last day of Mr Van Bergen’s life.
Frans. He got up at half-past four in the morning, and put on his socks and boots. I did not see this, but I am induced to believe it, as he appeared, a little later, with his boots and spurs on. It is thus a fair inference that he had just put them on, unless, like M. Charles Douze, he had been sleeping in them—in which case....
Van Weller. Are you quite incorrigible? Don’t tell me the story like that!