But the other, who represented to admiration the picture of a Beau in a Catarrh, stared at me arrogantly.
'And who are you, sir ?' he asked.
I made the military salute to my superiors.
'Champdivers, private, Eighth of the Line,' said I.
'Pretty business!' said he.

'And you are going on with us?
Three in a cart, and a great trolloping private at that! And who is to pay for you, my fine fellow ?' he inquired.
'If monsieur comes to that,' I answered civilly, 'who paid for him ?' 'Oh, if you choose to play the wit!' said he,--and began to rail at large upon his destiny, the weather, the cold, the danger and the expense of the escape, and, above all, the cooking of the accursed English.

It seemed to annoy him particularly that I should have joined their party.
'If you knew what you were doing, thirty thousand millions of pigs! you would keep yourself to yourself! The horses can't drag the cart; the roads are all ruts and swamps.

No longer ago than last night the Colonel and I had to march half the way--thunder of God!--half the way to the knees in mud--and I with this infernal cold--and the danger of detection! Happily we met no one: a desert--a real desert--like the whole abominable country! Nothing to eat--no, sir, there is nothing to eat but raw cow and greens boiled in water--nor to drink but Worcestershire sauce! Now I, with my catarrh, I have no appetite; is it not so?
Well, if I were in France, I should have a good soup with a crust in it, an omelette, a fowl in rice, a partridge in cabbages--things to tempt me, thunder of God! But here--day of God!--what a country! And cold, too! They talk about Russia--this is all the cold I want! And the people--look at them! What a race! Never any handsome men; never any fine officers!'-- and he looked down complacently for a moment at his waist--'And the women--what faggots! No, that is one point clear, I cannot stomach the English!' There was something in this man so antipathetic to me, as sent the mustard into my nose.

I can never bear your bucks and dandies, even when they are decent-looking and well dressed; and the Major--for that was his rank--was the image of a flunkey in good luck.