His
right eye, grey and piercing, returned her astonished gaze with a
fierce steadfastness.
"Does this mean that you are quartered upon us?" asked Desiree
without seeking to hide her disgust. She spoke in her own tongue.
"French?" said the soldier, looking at her. "Good. Yes. I am
quartered here. Thirty-six, Frauengasse. Sebastian; musician. You
are lucky to get me. I always give satisfaction--ha!"
He gave a curt laugh in one syllable only. His left arm was curved
round a bundle of wood bound together by a red pocket-handkerchief
not innocent of snuff. He held out this bundle to Desiree, as
Solomon may have held out some great gift to the Queen of Sheba to
smooth the first doubtful steps of friendship.
Desiree accepted the gift and stood in her wedding-dress holding the
bundle of wood against her breast. Then a gleam of the one grey eye
that was visible conveyed to her the fact that this walnut-faced
warrior was smiling. She laughed gaily.
"It is well," said Barlasch. "We are friends. You are lucky to get
me. You may not think so now. Would this woman like me to speak to
her in Polish or German?"
"Do you speak so many languages?"
He shrugged his shoulders and spread out his arms as far as his many
burdens allowed. For he was hung round with a hundred parcels and
packages.
"The Old Guard," he said, "can always make itself understood."
He rubbed his hands together with the air of a brisk man ready for
any sort of work.
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