Stuler shook his head. Johann was in a bad way
when he gulped wine instead of sipping it. Yet it was always so
after a carouse.
"Where have you been keeping yourself the past week?" he asked.
If the students were his purse, Johann was his budget of news.
"You ask that?" surlily. "You knew I had money; you knew that I
was off somewhere spending it--God knows where, I don't. Another
bottle of wine. There's enough left from the gold to pay for it."
Stuler complied. Johann's thirst seemed in no way assuaged; but
soon the sullen expression, the aftermath of his spree, was
replaced by one of reckless jollity. His eyes began to sparkle.
"A great game, Stuler; they're playing a great game, and you and
I will be in at the reaping. The town is quiet, you say? The
troops have ceased murmuring, eh? A lull that comes before the
storm. And when it breaks--and break it will!--gay times for you
and me. There will be sacking. I have the list of those who lean
toward the Osians. There will be loot, old war dog!"
Stuler smiled indulgently; Johann was beginning to feel the wine.
Perhaps he was to learn something.
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