what is to be done
with it," said Lestoype, handing it to the old man.

It seemed a perfectly natural and spontaneous act to the officers
present when the port-aigle pressed his lips reverently upon the number
plate below the feet of the Eagle and then, disdaining to sit down,
stood at attention, holding it before him.

"Will you not tell us, Mon Commandant," said another of the younger
officers, "something more about the Eagle before we discuss its
disposition?"

"I was a Sub-Lieutenant at Austerlitz," said Lestoype, only too anxious
to comply. "We were under the command of Marshal Soult, club-footed
Soult we called him, upon the heights of Pratzen. In the advance we
were overwhelmed. The port-aigle was killed. I was close at hand. I
seized the staff but a bullet got me in the shoulder, here. My arm has
been stiff ever since. I fell--a Russian--we were that closely
intermingled and fighting hand to hand--seized the staff. I lapsed
into unconsciousness. Captain Grenier--you were Sergeant-Major
then--finish the story."

"Willingly, Major Lestoype. I cut down that Russian, although wounded
myself, and tore the staff from him as he fell. But I couldn't hold
it. I fell with it at your feet. Our men had been driven back. There
was nobody beside us but the regimental dog."

"Mustache," said one of the other officers, and all eyes turned toward
the stuffed skin of a mongrel poodle dog mounted in a glass case hung
against the wall. Hands went up in salute. Some of the soldiers
laughed grimly.

"The brave Mustache," continued Grenier. "He leaped over my prostrate
body. I was conscious still. I saw it all. I would have given worlds
for strength, but I was helpless. Still Mustache was enough. He loved
the port-aigle. He seemed to know the Eagle was in danger. He snapped
at the hands of the Russian. The man drew back and cut at him with his
sword. Perhaps I should have received that blow. You see where the
forepaw of the dog was sliced off? But he had the spirit of a French
soldier, that brave dog, and he kept them off until the regiment
rallied and came back and drove away the Russians. Marshal Lannes had
a collar made for Mustache. You can see it there around his neck,
young gentlemen," continued the old Captain. "On one side the
inscription reads: _'He lost a leg in the battle of Austerlitz but he
saved the Eagle of his regiment.' On the other side: 'Mustache, a dog
of France, who will be