I suppose the end will come somehow, sometime--Can I have some rum or whisky, Devinter--I mean Von Ragastein--Your Excellency--or whatever I ought to say?
You see those wreaths of mist down by the river?
They'll mean malaria for me unless I have spirits." "I have something better than either," Von Ragastein replied.

"You shall give me your opinion of this." The orderly who stood behind his master's chair, received a whispered order, disappeared into the commissariat hut and came back presently with a bottle at the sight of which the Englishman gasped.
"Napoleon!" he exclaimed.
"Just a few bottles I had sent to me," his host explained.

"I am delighted to offer it to some one who will appreciate it." "By Jove, there's no mistake about that!" Dominey declared, rolling it around in his glass.

"What a world! I hadn't eaten for thirty hours when I rolled up here last night, and drunk nothing but filthy water for days.

To-night, fricassee of chicken, white bread, cabinet hock and Napoleon brandy.