But, suddenly, the cure began to laugh, and laughed so violently that he fairly shook, and presently exclaimed:  “Ha! ha! ha!  I have got what you want, yes.  I have got what you want!  Ha! ha! ha!  We will laugh and enjoy ourselves, my children; we will have some fun.  How pleased the ladies will be, I say, how delighted they will be!  Ha! ha!  Where are you staying?”

I described the house, and he understood where it was.  “Very good,” he said.  “It belongs to Monsieur Bertin-Lavaille.  I will be there in half an hour, with four ladies!  Ha! ha! ha! four ladies!”

He went out with me, still laughing, and left me, repeating:  “That is capital; in half an hour at Bertin-Lavaille’s house.”

I returned quickly, very much astonished and very much puzzled.  “Covers for how many?” Marchas asked, as soon as he saw me.  “Eleven.  There are six of us hussars, besides the priest and four ladies.”  He was thunderstruck, and I was triumphant.  He repeated:  “Four ladies!  Did you say, four ladies?” “I said four women.”  “Real women?” “Real women.”  “Well, accept my compliments!” “I will, for I deserve them.”

He got out of his armchair, opened the door, and I saw a beautiful white tablecloth on a long table, round which three hussars in blue aprons were setting out the plates and glasses.  “There are some women coming!” Marchas cried.  And the three men began to dance and to cheer with all their might.

Everything was ready, and we were waiting.  We waited for nearly an hour, while a delicious smell of roast poultry pervaded the whole house.  At last, however, a knock against the shutters made us all jump up at the same moment.  Stout Ponderel ran to open the door, and in less than a minute a little Sister of Mercy appeared in the doorway.  She was thin, wrinkled and timid, and successively greeted the four bewildered hussars who saw her enter.  Behind her, the noise of sticks sounded on the tiled floor in the vestibule, and as soon as she had come into the drawing-room, I saw three old heads in white caps, following each other one by one, who came in, swaying with different movements, one inclining to the right, while the other inclined to the left.  And three worthy women appeared, limping, dragging their legs behind them, crippled by illness and deformed through old age, three infirm old women, past service, the only three pensioners who were able to walk in the home presided over by Sister Saint-Benedict.

She had turned round to her invalids, full of anxiety for them, and then, seeing my quartermaster’s stripes, she said to me:  “I am much obliged to you for thinking of these poor women.  They have very little pleasure in life, and you are at the same time giving them a great treat and doing them a great honor.”

I saw the priest, who had remained in the dark hallway, and was laughing heartily, and I began to laugh in my turn, especially when I saw Marchas’ face.  Then, motioning the nun to the seats, I said: