knows he's no better. My friend, between ourselves, it's only a
question of a day or two."

Silence followed for half a minute, the two officers avoiding each
other's eyes.

"He has a curious wish," the Doctor resumed, still with his face
averted and his gaze directed on the dull outline of Looe Island, a
mile away. "He says he knows he's disgracing the Company: but he's
anxious, all the same, to have a military funeral: says if you can
promise this, he'll feel in a way that he's forgiven."

"He shall have it, of course."

"Ah, but that's not all. You remember, a couple of years back, when
they had us down to Pendennis Castle for a week's drill, there was a
funeral of a Sergeant-Major in the Loyal Meneage; and how the band
played a sort of burial tune ahead of the body? Well, Fugler asked
me if you couldn't manage this Dead March, as he calls it, as well.
He can whistle the tune if you want to know it. It seems it made a
great impression on him."

"Then the man must be wandering! How the dickens can we manage a
Dead March without a band?--and we haven't even a fife and drum!"

"That's what I told him. I suppose we couldn't do anything with the
church musicians."

"There's only one man in the Company who belongs to the gallery, and
that's Uncle Issy Spettigew: and he plays the bass-viol. I doubt if
you can play the Dead March on a bass-viol, and I'm morally certain
you can't play it and walk with it too. I suppose we can't borrow a
band from another Company?"

"What, and be the mock of the Duchy?--after all our pride! I fancy I
see you going over to Troy and asking Browne for the loan of his
band. 'Hullo!' he'd say, 'I thought you never had such a thing as a
funeral over at Looe!' I can hear the fellow chuckle. But I wish
something could be done, all the same. A trifle of pomp would draw
folks' attention off our disappointment."

Captain Pond sighed and rose from the gun; for the bugle was sounding
from the upper battery.

"Fall in, gentlemen, if you please!" he shouted. His politeness in
addressing his Company might be envied even by the "Blues."

The Doctor formed them up and told them off along the sea-wall, as if
for inspection. "Or-der arms!" "Fix bayonets!" "Shoul-der arms!"
Then with a glance of inquiry at his Captain, who had fallen into a
brown study, "Rear rank, take open order!"

"No, no," interposed the Captain, waking up and taking a guess at the
sun's altitude in the grey