The Seed of Empire by Fred M. White

Twice did Kemp and Bentley walk round the house, keeping an alert look-out for possible sentries, but nothing of the kind could be seen. By this time the Germans, waited upon by a handful of their men, had made a start on their supper. They appeared to be in the best of spirits; perhaps they had indulged somewhat freely in the old farmer's wine before they sat down to table. They shouted to one another in boastful toasts and sang snatches of their arrogant patriotic songs. It sounded as if each had some ignoble exploit to speak of, but the din was comprehensible only to Malden, who smiled grimly as he listened. By this time the house was full of Musketeers. They poured in by the front door and the back, and Kemp and Bentley looking through the open door of the dining-room could see the lamplight glistening on brilliant uniforms, on gold lace and stars and decorations. There was another door at the far end of the room leading into the kitchen, where other Musketeers had been stationed.

A Uhlan officer, evidently of high rank, stood up at the end of the table with his glass in his hand and proposed a toast. He said something about England, and then, in good enough English, drank to the speedy destruction of French and his contemptible little army. There was a swaggering boast on his lips as Kemp stepped into the room and coolly surveyed the brilliant company.