efore him.

"Look here, Long," he said; "did you ever see such a wretched country as
this? Everything rusts; look at my instruments."

"Yes, sir, it is terrible; such fine steel too."

"Fine steel? There isn't a better case in the army. I could do
anything with these tools."

Tom Long shuddered as he glanced at the long, fearfully keen knives, and
the saw--so horribly suggestive of taking off arms and legs.

Doctor Bolter saw it, and smiled to himself.

"Come to say good-bye, Long?" he said, as he stuffed some lint into a
pouch, with some bandages. "I'm not a lighting man, and don't mean to
be killed."

"No, sir. I came to ask you to let me go--to give me a certificate,
saying I am quite well enough."

"But you are not, my dear boy. You are too weak."

"Weak, sir? No, I feel as strong as a lion. Let me go, doctor."

"What nonsense, my dear lad! I'm not the commandant. Ask the major."

"No, sir," said Tom Long. "You are not the commandant by name, but from
the major downwards you do just as you like with us. Hang me if I'd
have drunk such filthy stuff as you gave me, by the major's orders. I'd
sooner have lost my commission."

"Ha, ha, ha!--Ha, ha, ha!" laughed the doctor. "That's very good, Long,
very good indeed. I suppose I do get the better of all of you in turn.
Ha, ha, ha! But look here, my dear boy, I don't think you are well
enough yet."

"Do let me go, doctor," pleaded Tom. "There, I don't want to _fight_,
but let me go with you and help you. This dreadful do-nothing sort of
life seems to make me worse."

"Idleness is bad for any man," said the doctor.

Tom Long felt flattered at being called a man, but still looked
pleadingly at the doctor.

"I could take care of your instruments, sir, and hand you what you
wanted if there were any of our fellows hurt."

"Humph! yes, you could do that," said the doctor. "But look here," he
said, gazing searchingly into the youth's face; "did you take your
medicine to-day?"

"Yes, sir, three times," cried Tom, eagerly; for, after neglecting it
for two days previously, he had taken it that day by way of a salve to
his conscience.

"Then you shall go," said the doctor. "Be quick. Get your great-coat--
and mind, you are to be my assistant."

Tom Long ran back to his quarters, and doctor's assistant or no, he
buckled on his sword, and stuck his revolver in its case, before putting
on his grey great-coat; meeting the detachment on its wa