capital; in half an hour at Bertin-Lavaille's house."

I returned quickly, very much astonished and very much puzzled. "Covers
for how many?" Marchas asked, as soon as he saw me. "Eleven. There are
six of us hussars, besides the priest and four ladies." He was
thunderstruck, and I was triumphant. He repeated: "Four ladies! Did you
say, four ladies?" "I said four women." "Real women?" "Real women."
"Well, accept my compliments!" "I will, for I deserve them."

He got out of his armchair, opened the door, and I saw a beautiful white
tablecloth on a long table, round which three hussars in blue aprons were
setting out the plates and glasses. "There are some women coming!"
Marchas cried. And the three men began to dance and to cheer with all
their might.

Everything was ready, and we were waiting. We waited for nearly an hour,
while a delicious smell of roast poultry pervaded the whole house. At
last, however, a knock against the shutters made us all jump up at the
same moment. Stout Ponderel ran to open the door, and in less than a
minute a little Sister of Mercy appeared in the doorway. She was thin,
wrinkled and timid, and successively greeted the four bewildered hussars
who saw her enter. Behind her, the noise of sticks sounded on the tiled
floor in the vestibule, and as soon as she had come into the
drawing-room, I saw three old heads in white caps, following each other
one by one, who came in, swaying with different movements, one inclining
to the right, while the other inclined to the left. And three worthy
women appeared, limping, dragging their legs behind them, crippled by
illness and deformed through old age, three infirm old women, past
service, the only three pensioners who were able to walk in the home
presided over by Sister Saint-Benedict.