the rear.

They were vicious coxcombs of the first order. Their uniforms
incased them tightly. Like wasps they bent only at the waist. Their
flat-topped caps were worn with an aggressive slant, their swords
jingled menacingly, their hay-colored mustaches spoke arrogance in
every upturned hair. When they bowed it was a mockery; when they
smiled it was a sneer. For the comfortable quarters of the Chateau
d'Azan they had a gross appreciation, for the enforced hospitality
of its owners an insolent condescension. They took it as their due,
and resented the silent protest underneath it.

"Excellent wine, Herr Baron," said the prince, who, like his comrade,
drank profusely of the best in the cellar. "Your Rudesheimer Berg
'94 is _kolossal._ Very friendly of you to save it for us.
We Germans know good wine. What?"

"You have that reputation," answered the baron.

"And say," added the count, "let us have a couple of bottles more,
dear landlord. You can put it in the bill."

"I shall do so," said the baron gravely. "It shall be put in the
bill with other things."

"But why," drawled the prince, "does _la Baronne_ never favor
us with her company? Still very attractive--musical probably--here
is a piano--want good German music--console homesickness."

"Madame is indisposed," answered the baron quietly, "but you may