ven before, dog-tired as they were,
they had reduced the two dormitories to conditions of cleanliness in which
it was possible for self-respecting men to lie down and take their sleep.
And so they laid themselves down and slept, in their dreams remembering
Looe and their families and rooms that, albeit small, were cosy, and beds
that smelt of lavender. Captain Pond had apportioned to each man three
fingers of rum, and in cases of suspected catarrh had infused a dose of
quinine.

It was midnight before he lay down in his quarters, on bedding he had
previously aired before a sullen fire. He closed his eyes--but only to
sleep by fits and starts. How could his men endure three weeks of this?
He must keep them occupied, amused. . . . He thought of amateur
theatricals. . . . Good God! how unsatisfying a supper was biscuit,
after a long day's ride! Was _this_ how the regular army habitually
lived? . . . What a pig's-sty of a barracks! . . . Well, it would rest
upon Government, if he buried his men in this inhospitable hole.
He raised himself on his pillow and stared at the fire. Strange, to think
that only a few hours ago he had slept in Looe, and let the hours strike
unheeded on his own parish clock! Strange! And his men must be feeling
it no less, and he was responsible for them, for three weeks of _this_--
and for their good behaviour!

Early next morning (Sunday) he was astir, and having shaved and dressed
himself by lantern light, stepped down to the gate and roused up the
superannuated sergeant with a demand to be conducted round the
fortifications.

The sergeant--who answered to the incredible name of Topase--wanted to
know what was the sense of worriting about the fortifications at this hour
of the day: and, if his language verged on insubordination, his wife's was
frankly mutinous. Captain Pond heard her from her bed exhorting her
husband to close the window and not let in the draught upon her for the
sake of any little Volunteer whipper-snapper in creation. "What next?"
she should like to know, and "Tell the pestering man there's a bed of
spring bulbs planted close under the wall, an' if he goes stampin' upon my
li'l crocuges I'll have the law of him."

Captain Pond's authority, however, was not to be disobeyed, and a quarter
of an hour later he found himself, with Sergeant Topase beside him, on the
platform of the eighteen-pounder battery, watching the first rosy streaks
of dawn as they spread and trave