and sailors, many of whom were
yellow-faced lascars with dark oily-looking eyes, whose whites seemed to
have an opalescent tinge.

Every one was busy, and a good many of the dock-men were up aloft giving
the finishing touches to the rigging, a great deal of which seemed to be
new. But somehow, as an idler, I seemed to be in everybody's way, and
was constantly being requested to make way, or stand aside, or my leave
was requested in tones rather insulting, as I thought then.

Suddenly I remembered that General Crucie had said that a draft of men
was going out in the vessel, in charge of Captain Brace.

"I wonder where the men are," I said to myself; and at last, as I had
looked in vain for red or blue uniforms, I asked one of the sailors.

"Swaddies?" he said. "Oh yes. Forrard. There they are."

He pointed toward the head of the vessel as he hurried off in answer to
a shout from a red-faced man who was directing a gang of sailors hauling
at something up aloft which he called a yard, and I went forward to have
a look at the smart detachment of soldiers I was to help to command.

The illusion was soon swept away, for the detachment was composed of
about fifty unhappy, thin-looking men in white flannel jackets, sitting
about or leaning over the bulwarks, smoking and watching the dock quay
where stood a group of slatternly-looking women, staring wearily at the
ship; and now and then one of them would wave a hand or a handkerchief
to the men in white flannel, a salute as often as not evoking no
response, though sometimes a man would take off his ugly blue woollen
forage-cap by the red worsted tuft at the top, give it a twist, and put
it on again.

"This cannot be the detachment," I thought, and then, thinking that the
best way to know was to ask, I said to the nearest man--

"Would you mind telling me whether you belong to Captain Brace's
detachment?"

"What?"

A surly, half-insolent question in reply to mine, which I repeated.

"I dunno nothing about no 'tachments," he growled.

"Well, are you in the service, and going out to India?" I said.

"I've took the shilling, and I'm going out to cholera borgus, if that's
what you mean. Don't bother!"

"You'll get yourself in for it directly, mate," growled another of the
men. "Can't you see the gent's a horficer?"

I felt better at this, but I was damped down directly, for my man I had
spoken to growled out--

"Horficer? Well, all I can say is as he don't