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Tom Cringle's Log by Michael Scott
page 34 of 773 (04%)

"Ah,-----, we are devilish hungry--Ich bin dem Verhungern nahe and were
just on the point of ordering in the provender had you not appeared."

"A little more than that," thought I; for the food was already smoking on
the table.

Mine host acknowledged the speech with a slight smile.

"But who have we here?" said one of the young dragoons. He waited a
moment "Etes--vous Francais?" I gave him no answer. He then addressed me
in German--"Sprechen sie geldufig Deutsch?"

"Why," chimed in my conductor, "he does speak a little French
indifferently enough; but still"

Here I was introduced to the young officers, and we all sat down at table;
the colonel, civility itself, pressing my host to drink his own wine, and
eat his own food and even rating the servants for not being sufficiently
alert in their attendance on their own master.

"Well, my dear-----, how have you sped with the Prince?"

"Why, colonel," said my protector, in his calm way, "as well as I expected.
I was of some service to him when he was here before, at the time he was
taken so very ill, and he has not forgotten it; so I am not included
amongst the unfortunate detenus for the payment of the fine. But that is
not all; for I am allowed to go tomorrow to my father's, and here is my
passport."

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