, sir--share a bowl
of punch with us. We will make that mischief-making Prophet acknowledge
that he has been too touchy, and he shall drink to your health."

Up to this moment the brute-tamer, enraged at the issue of this scene,
for he had hoped that the soldier would accept his challenge, looked on
with savage contempt at those who had thus sided against him. But now
his features gradually relaxed; and, believing it useful to his projects
to hide his disappointment, he walked up to the soldier, and said to
him, with a tolerably good grace: "Well, I give way to these gentlemen.
I own I was wrong. Your frigid air had wounded me, and I was not master
of myself. I repeat, that I was wrong," he added, with suppressed
vexation; "the Lord commands humility--and--I beg your pardon."

This proof of moderation and regret was highly appreciated and loudly
applauded by the spectators. "He asks your pardon; you cannot expect
more, my brave fellow?" said one of them, addressing Dagobert. "Come,
let us all drink together; we make you this offer frankly--accept it in
the same spirit."

"Yes, yes; accept it, we beg you, in the name of your pretty little
girls," said the stout man, hoping to decide Dagobert by this argument.

"Many thanks, gentlemen," replied he, touched by the hearty advances of
the Germans; "you are very worthy people. But, when one is treated, he
must offer drink in return."

"Well, we will accept it--that's understood. Each his turn, and all
fair. We will pay for the first bowl, you for the second."

"Poverty is no crime," answered Dagobert; "and I must tell you honestly
that I cannot afford to pay for drink. We have still a long journey to
go, and I must not incur any useless expenses."

The soldier spoke these words with such firm, but simple dignity, that
the Germans did not venture to renew their offer, feeling that a man of
Dagobert's character could not accept it without humiliation.

"Well, so much the worse," said the stout man. "I should have liked to
clink glasses with you. Good-night, my brave trooper!--Good-night--for
it grows late, and mine host of the Falcon will soon turn us out of
doors."

"Good-night, gentlemen," replied Dagobert, as he directed his steps
towards the stable, to give his horse a second allowance of provender.

Morok approached him, and said in a voice even more humble than before:
"I have acknowledged my error, and asked your pardon. You have not
answered me; do you still