re spread several staff
uniforms, whose drabbled and soaked appearance denoted the reason of the
party's change of habiliments. Every imaginable species of drinking-vessel
figured upon the board, from the rich flagon of chased silver to the humble
_cruche_ we see in a Teniers picture. As well as I could hear, the language
of the company seemed to be French, or, at least, such an imitation of that
language as served as a species of neutral territory for both parties to
meet in.

He of the tabard spoke louder than the others, and although, from the
execrable endeavors he made to express himself in French, his natural voice
was much altered, there was yet something in his accents which seemed
perfectly familiar to me.

"Mosheer l'Abbey," said he, placing his arm familiarly on the shoulder of
a portly personage, whose shaven crown strangely contrasted with a pair
of corked moustachios,--"Mosheer l'Abbey, nous sommes freres, et moi,
savez-vous, suis eveque,--'pon my life it's true; I might have been Bishop
of Saragossa, if I only consented to leave the Twenty-third. Je suis bong
Catholique. Lord bless you, if you saw how I loved the nunneries in Spain!
J'ai tres jolly souvenirs of those nunneries; a goodly company of little
silver saints; and this waistcoat you see--mong gilet--was a satin
petticoat of our Lady of Loretto."

Need I say, that before this speech was concluded, I had recognized in the
speaker nobody but that inveterate old villain, Monsoon himself.

"Permettez, votre Excellence," said a hale, jolly-looking personage on his
left, as he filled the major's goblet with obsequious politeness.

"Bong engfong," replied Monsoon, tapping him familiarly on the head.
"Burgomaster, you are a trump; and when I get my promotion, I'll make
you prefect in a wine district. Pass the lush, and don't look sleepy!
'Drowsiness,' says Solomon, 'clothes a man in rags;' and no man knew the
world better than Solomon. Don't you be laughing, you raw boys. Never mind
them, Abbey; ils sont petits garcongs--fags from Eton and Harrow; better
judges of mutton broth than sherry negus."

"I say, Major, you are forgetting this song you promised us."

"Yes, yes," said several voices together; "the song, Major! the song!"

"Time enough for that; we're doing very well as it is. Upon my life,
though, they hold a deal of wine. I thought we'd have had them fit to
bargain with before ten, and see, it's near midnight; and I must have my
forage ac