The landlord was nowhere to be seen.
"There is no liquor there," said the woman.
"I do not want liquor; I want hay or straw for these men to lie
upon. Why should they lie on the bricks when there is straw
overhead?"
"There is no straw."
"What is up there?"
"Empty bottles."
"Nothing else?"
"No."
For a moment it looked as if the surgeon would abandon his
intention, but one of the soldiers pointed up to the ceiling. I
gathered from what I could understand of his words that he could
see the straw sticking out between the planks. In vain the woman
protested. Two of the soldiers were able to get upon their feet
and to drag her aside, while the young surgeon ran up the ladder,
pushed open the trap-door, and climbed into the loft.
As he swung the door back I slipped behind it, but as luck would
have it he shut it again behind him, and there we were left
standing face to face.
Never have I seen a more astonished young man.
"A French officer!" he gasped.
"Hush!" said I, "hush! Not a word above a whisper.
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