onents, who
only talked loud.

At the other end of the table the odds were two to one, which is not
always the same as one to two; that is, the two older surgeons were
opposed to the youngest. These three were just as loud within one
note--the note under being the tribute they unconciously paid to naval
discipline--as the three captains. Both parties were descanting upon
plagues.

"I say, sir," said the little surgeon, who was the eldest, "it is _not_
infectious. But here comes Dr Thompson."

Now the erudite doctor, from the first, had no great chance. Captain
Reud had determined he should not be invalided. The two other captains
cared nothing at all about the matter, but, of course, would not be so
impolitic as to differ from their superior officer--an officer, too, of
large interest, and the Amphytrion of the day; for when they had
performed those duties for which they were so well fitted, their medical
ones, they were to dine on the scene of their arduous labours. The
eldest surgeon had rather a bias against the doctor, as he could not
legally put M.D. against his own name. The next in seniority was
entirely adverse to the invaliding, as, without he could invalide too,
he would have to go to the West Indies in the place of our surgeon. The
youngest was indifferent just then to anything but to confute the other
two, and prove the plague infectious.

"But here comes Dr Thompson--I'll appeal to him," said non-infection;
but the appeal was unfortunate, both for the appealer and the doctor.
The latter was an infectionist; so there was no longer any odds, but two
against two, and away they went. Our friend in the wide coat forgot he
was sick, and his adversaries that they had to verify it; they sought to
verify nothing but their dogmas. They waxed loud, then cuttingly
polite, then slaughteringly sarcastic and, at last, exceeding wroth.

"I tell you, sir, that I have written a volume on the subject."

"Had you no friend near you," said Dr Thompson, "at that most
unfortunate time?"

"I tell you, sir, I will never argue with anyone on the subject, unless
he have read my Latin treatise `De Natura Pestium et Pestilentiarum.'"

"Then you'll never argue but with yourself," said the stout young
surgeon.

Then arose the voices of the men militant over those of the men
curative.

"The finest eye," vociferated our skipper, "Captain Templar, that ever
beamed from mortal. Its lovely blue, contrasted with her whi