Then the landlord came my way, and as he passed me I caught his eye.

He uttered a low curse, dropped the pitcher he was carrying, and stood glaring at me like a man possessed.
The soldier whose wine he was carrying flung a crust in his face, with,-- 'Now, greasy fingers! What are you staring at ?' 'The devil!' the landlord muttered, beginning to tremble.
'Then let me look at him!' the man retorted, and he turned on his stool.
He started, finding me standing over him.
'At your service!' I said grimly.

'A little time and it will be the other way, my friend..