, an' there's no
dacent shtuff to be had for twinty miles round; annyway, that's what
I'm tould. Now the Gin'ral has a great fancy for red wine.'

"''Tis a sad business,' says I.

"'I've heard it whispered,' says the poor man, an' he wid the D.S.O.
an' all, 'that where there's a good dhrop o' dhrink you're the man
to find it. An',' says he, 'there's no discredit to ye in that,
O'Reilly.'

"'Indeed no, Sorr,' says I; ''tis a gift.'

"'Well,' says he, 'would ye use that same gift of yours for the honour
o' the Rig'mint?'"

O'Reilly felt in his pocket for a tobacco-stopper, attended carefully
to his pipe and again fixed me with his candid gaze.

"'There's a bit of a place 'way back,' says I, 'where I've a fancy I
might find somethin'.'

"Wid that he shtuck a bunch o' notes in me hand. 'Don't shpare the
cost,' says he, 'but get it. 'Tis up to you, Sergint, to save a
disp'rit situation.'"

"It was a terrible responsibility," I said.

"Ye may say that. Whin I was alone wid thim notes bulgin' in me tunic,
I'd a notion I might let down the Rig'mint afther all, an' that would
have bruk me heart. But off I wint to see Achille. 'Twas four miles to
the village, an' I wint on my blessed feet, an' by the time I got
to the place I was as nervous as a mouse in a thrap. Achille's shop
wasn't a cafe or an estaminet or a buvette or anny o' thim places. He
had a bit of a brass plate on his door wid 'Marchand de Vins' on it.
I knew him by raison of a fancy that took me wan day for a dhrop o'
brandy. So I wint in through Achille's door wid thim notes as hot in
me pocket as Patsy Donelly's pipe.

"Achille hopped out o' the little room at the hack same's a bird out
of a cage. 'Ah,' says he, 'that was good cognac, eh? You shall have
more, me son.'

"'Achille,' says I, ''tis a shtrange thing, but there's niver a
thought o' cognac in me mind at all. 'Tis red wine, the best, that I'm
afther.'

"'Red wine!' says he. 'I haven't a litre o' red wine in the cellars.'

"'Holy Powers!' says I, 'an' you wid "Marchand de Vins" on yer door.'
The shock of it took the breath out o' me entirely. So I sat up on the
counter to think.

"''Tis a matther,' says I, 'that concerns the Rig'mint, a rig'mint
that was niver bate yet.' An' I explained about the Gin'ral an' what
the O.C. tould me. An' thin I tuk the notes from me pocket an' put
thim on the counther undher his eyes.

"'Ach,' says he, ''tisn't money I want from ye, but to hilp a frind.'