emerged red in the face, one with wine, the other with a gambler's excitement. Günther was cock-a-hoop, Brockendorf as phlegmatic as he always was when not actually drunk.
"Well," said Eglofstein, "which of you won the other's boots? What did you play, 'Thirty-One'?"
"We played 'Lansquenet'," Günther replied, "and I won."
St Antony was holding a slip of paper in his hand, a printed announcement to the effect that Mary had been truly immaculate when she conceived Our Lord. Günther, having removed this, gave him the knave of diamonds to hold instead, and the saint, as forbearing and longsuffering in effigy as he had been in his lifetime, retained the playing card between his fingers.
"Günther," Brockendorf said in his measured way, "at Barcelona, where some felons were marched to work past my billet each morning, I once saw a card-sharper whose face bore a strong resemblance to yours."
"And I," Günther retorted hotly, "saw a thief dangling from a gibbet in Kassel whose nose was as flat as your own."
"Sometimes," said Eglofstein, quite straight-faced, "Nature indulges in the strangest whims."
The four of us set off together.
"He had the king of spades in his hand," Günther pursued, as hotly as ever. "He played it, thinking himself sure to win, and said 'Take that!' And so it went on, thrust and parry, queen of hearts, knave of hearts, back and forth. In the end I played the ace of hearts, called 'Trounced!', and he was beaten."
He turned to Brockendorf and bellowed the word exultantly in his face.
"Trounced, Brockendorf, did you hear? Trounced!"
"Be first with her by all means," Brockendorf growled as he strode along. "She'll notice soon enough that you're not the man for her. Your slow-match peters out too soon, my lad."
Eglofstein looked at the pair of them and whistled softly to himself.
"What did you play for?"
"For the right to be first with Monjita," Brockendorf replied.
"I thought as much," said Eglofstein, chuckling.
"Brockendorf met her in the street this morning," Günther announced. "She made an assignation with him for tomorrow, after Mass, but he lacks the necessary belair - he would have choked the well for the rest of us. Now I shall go in his place. I know how the women hereabouts should be courted in Spanish."
Eglofstein turned to Brockendorf, his eyes alight with curiosity.
"Is it true you spoke with her?"
"Yes, and at some length," said Brockendorf, smiting himself on the chest.
"What did you say to her?"
"I told her point-blank that I was in love with her, and that she alone could help me in my hour of need."
"And she? What was her answer?"
"She could not converse with me in the street, she said, because that would be thought unseemly in La Bisbal, but I was to call on her tomorrow after Mass. She had pins and lye in plenty at home."
"Pins and lye?"
"Yes, I had vowed to eat pins and drink lye for love of her."
"Tomorrow, when the colonel has gone riding," said Günther, "I shall pay her a visit."
"Do that!" Brockendorf gave a thunderous laugh. "Go by all means. Swallow the pins and lye yourself!"
"Günther," said Eglofstein, "you and Brockendorf may fancy yourselves the only players in this game, but have a care: I, too, hold some trumps in my hand."
"But the lead is still mine," Günther drawled spitefully. The pair of them, Eglofstein and Günther, eyed one another with the cold and hostile air of duellists preparing to settle matters at dawn.
By now we had reached the colonel's residence. Outside the door we saw Captain de Salignac furiously engaged in driving away a number of beggars who, it being Sunday, had gathered at the Marquis of Bolibar's house to get their customary dole of soup and peas cooked in oil.
"What are you doing here, you rogues, you scoundrels, you drunken wine-bibbers?" Salignac roared at them. "Be off with you! I'll let none of you past this door!"
"Alms, sir!" the beggars cried in a ragged chorus. "Alms, if you yourself hope to receive God's
"Well," said Eglofstein, "which of you won the other's boots? What did you play, 'Thirty-One'?"
"We played 'Lansquenet'," Günther replied, "and I won."
St Antony was holding a slip of paper in his hand, a printed announcement to the effect that Mary had been truly immaculate when she conceived Our Lord. Günther, having removed this, gave him the knave of diamonds to hold instead, and the saint, as forbearing and longsuffering in effigy as he had been in his lifetime, retained the playing card between his fingers.
"Günther," Brockendorf said in his measured way, "at Barcelona, where some felons were marched to work past my billet each morning, I once saw a card-sharper whose face bore a strong resemblance to yours."
"And I," Günther retorted hotly, "saw a thief dangling from a gibbet in Kassel whose nose was as flat as your own."
"Sometimes," said Eglofstein, quite straight-faced, "Nature indulges in the strangest whims."
The four of us set off together.
"He had the king of spades in his hand," Günther pursued, as hotly as ever. "He played it, thinking himself sure to win, and said 'Take that!' And so it went on, thrust and parry, queen of hearts, knave of hearts, back and forth. In the end I played the ace of hearts, called 'Trounced!', and he was beaten."
He turned to Brockendorf and bellowed the word exultantly in his face.
"Trounced, Brockendorf, did you hear? Trounced!"
"Be first with her by all means," Brockendorf growled as he strode along. "She'll notice soon enough that you're not the man for her. Your slow-match peters out too soon, my lad."
Eglofstein looked at the pair of them and whistled softly to himself.
"What did you play for?"
"For the right to be first with Monjita," Brockendorf replied.
"I thought as much," said Eglofstein, chuckling.
"Brockendorf met her in the street this morning," Günther announced. "She made an assignation with him for tomorrow, after Mass, but he lacks the necessary belair - he would have choked the well for the rest of us. Now I shall go in his place. I know how the women hereabouts should be courted in Spanish."
Eglofstein turned to Brockendorf, his eyes alight with curiosity.
"Is it true you spoke with her?"
"Yes, and at some length," said Brockendorf, smiting himself on the chest.
"What did you say to her?"
"I told her point-blank that I was in love with her, and that she alone could help me in my hour of need."
"And she? What was her answer?"
"She could not converse with me in the street, she said, because that would be thought unseemly in La Bisbal, but I was to call on her tomorrow after Mass. She had pins and lye in plenty at home."
"Pins and lye?"
"Yes, I had vowed to eat pins and drink lye for love of her."
"Tomorrow, when the colonel has gone riding," said Günther, "I shall pay her a visit."
"Do that!" Brockendorf gave a thunderous laugh. "Go by all means. Swallow the pins and lye yourself!"
"Günther," said Eglofstein, "you and Brockendorf may fancy yourselves the only players in this game, but have a care: I, too, hold some trumps in my hand."
"But the lead is still mine," Günther drawled spitefully. The pair of them, Eglofstein and Günther, eyed one another with the cold and hostile air of duellists preparing to settle matters at dawn.
By now we had reached the colonel's residence. Outside the door we saw Captain de Salignac furiously engaged in driving away a number of beggars who, it being Sunday, had gathered at the Marquis of Bolibar's house to get their customary dole of soup and peas cooked in oil.
"What are you doing here, you rogues, you scoundrels, you drunken wine-bibbers?" Salignac roared at them. "Be off with you! I'll let none of you past this door!"
"Alms, sir!" the beggars cried in a ragged chorus. "Alms, if you yourself hope to receive God's
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