"No! I have had enough of him; one should not meet people more than
once in a lifetime. Carry him to the pump--that will sober him, and
then take him to his ship"--and with a contemptuous glance he added,
"You old beast!"
Then he felt whether his sabre was secure, and went out.
After his sleep, Peter was again the Emperor--lofty, upright,
dignified. He went along the promenade, serious and sedate, as
though to a battle. When he had found Number 14, he entered at once,
sure of finding his fifty men there. On the right hand ground-floor
towards the courtyard, all the windows stood open. There he saw the
conspirators sitting at a long table and drinking wine. He stepped
into the room, saw many of his friends there, and felt a stab at his
heart.
"Good-day, comrades!" was his cheery greeting.
The whole company rose like one man. They exchanged looks and put on
faces for the occasion.
"Let us drink a glass together, friends!" Peter threw himself on a
chair; then he looked at a clock in the room, and saw it was only
half-past four. He had made a mistake of half an hour. Was it his
own error, or was Menshikoff's clock wrong?
"Half an hour!" he thought to himself, but in the next second he had
emptied a huge glass, and began to sing a very popular soldiers'
song, keeping time by knocking the glass against the table.
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