hat's the tale afloat," said Wilfrid. "Come to my hotel and dine
with me. I suppose that cur has driven my luggage there."

Jenna informed him that officers had to muster in barracks every evening.

"Come and see your old comrades; they'll like you better in bad
luck--there's the comfort of it: hang the human nature! She's a good old
brute, if you don't drive her hard. Our regiment left Verona in November.
There we had tolerable cookery; come and take the best we can give you."

But this invitation Wilfrid had to decline.

"Why?" said Jenna.

He replied: "I've stuck at Meran three months. I did it, in obedience to
what I understood from Colonel Zofel to be the General's orders. When I
was as perfectly dry as a baked Egyptian, I determined to believe that I
was not only in disgrace, but dismissed the service. I posted to Botzen
and Riva, on to Milan; and here I am. The least I can do is to show
myself here."

"Very well, then, come and show yourself at our table," said Jenna.
"Listen: we'll make a furious row after supper, and get hauled in by the
collar before the General. You can swear you have never been absent from
duty: swear the General never gave you forcible furlough. I'll swear it;
all our fellows will swear it. The General will say, 'Oh! a very big
lie's equal to a truth; big brother to a fact, or something; as he always
does, you know. Face it out. We can't spare a good stout sword in these
times. On with me, my Pierson."

"I would," said Wilfrid, doubtfully.

A douse of water from a window extinguished their cigars.

Lieutenant Jenna wiped his face deliberately, and lighting another cigar,
remarked--"This is the fifth poor devil who has come to an untimely end
within an hour. It is brisk work. Now, I'll swear I'll smoke this one
out."

The cigar was scattered in sparks from his lips by a hat skilfully flung.
He picked it up miry and cleaned it, observing that his honour was
pledged to this fellow. The hat he trampled into a muddy lump. Wilfrid
found it impossible to ape his coolness. He swung about for an adversary.
Jenna pulled him on.

"A salute from a window," he said. "We can't storm the houses. The
time'll come for it--and then, you cats!"

Wilfrid inquired how long this state of things had been going on. Jenna
replied that they appeared to be in the middle of it;--nearly a week.
Another week, and their, day would arrive; and then!

"Have you heard anything of a Count Ammiani here?" said W