At that moment one of the young fellows whom we were seeing off⁠—the tall one⁠—came up with long, energetic strides, and stooped to speak to the one who played the accordion.

“What a fine fellow,” I thought; “they will put him in the Guards.” I did not know who he was or what house he belonged to.

“Whose son is that one? That gallant fellow?” I asked a little old man, pointing to the fine lad.

The old man raised his cap and bowed to me, but did not hear my question.

“What did you say?” asked he.