The young Frenchman gave his toast.
"France!" he said gravely.
Each man raised his glass to his lips and drained it, but Hal and
Chester drank the toast in clear, cold water. As the first Frenchman
returned his glass to the table, he noticed that the wine before Hal and
Chester remained untouched. His face turned a dull red, and he
approached the lads.
"And why does not monsieur drink with us?" he demanded in a harsh voice,
thrusting his face toward Chester. "Can it be that you are spies?"
"No," said Chester, taking a step backward; "we are not spies. We
are British officers, and we drank your toast in water. We do not
drink wine."
"British officers!" repeated the Frenchman. "Then how comes it that you
wear the uniforms of French lieutenants?"
"That," replied Chester quietly, "is none of your business."
"None of my business!" echoed the Frenchman. "_Mon Dieu_! And what if I
make it some of my business, eh?"
"If I were you," said Chester, "I wouldn't think of such a thing."
The Frenchman took a step backward at the menace in the lad's tone; but
the other French officers now gathered about, and these reenforcements
apparently lent him courage.
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