It was now the marshal’s turn to stare; and the officers exchanged winks behind his back, as much as to say that their champion had met his match at last. Saxe brought out another crown, and then a third; but the smith served them in like manner.
“Come,” said he, imitating the marshal’s voice to perfection, “I see it’s no use picking and choosing among such a trashy lot. Give me the first crown that comes to hand, and we’ll cry quits.”
The Frenchman looked at the Dutchman—the Dutchman looked at the Frenchman—and then both burst into a roar of laughter, so loud and hearty that the officers who stood by could not help joining in.
“Fairly caught!” cried the marshal, suddenly, and added, “What’s your name, my fine fellow?”
“Dirk Hogan, from Scheveningen.”
“Dirk Hogan!” cried Saxe. “The very man I’ve been looking for! But I’ve found him in a way I didn’t expect!”
“So it seems,” said the smith, grinning. “I needn’t ask who you are—you’re the Count de Saxe, who was always wanting to meet with a stronger man than himself. Does it seem to you as if you had met with him now?”
“Well, I rather think it does,” quoth Saxe, shrugging his shoulders; “and as I promised to give him my purse whenever I did meet with him, here it is. And now, if you’ll come along with me, and serve as farrier to my head-quarters’ staff, I promise you that you shall never have cause to repent of having met with Maurice de Saxe.”
And the marshal was as good as his word.
[B] ...[missing text]... Hercules" is said to have achieved a similar feat more than once.