al ditty, to which the whole
forecastle could rattle out a hearty chorus. "I hope Private Gray will
get better," said Billy.

"Ah, we all hope that," said Sergeant Lund. "Not that Adam Gray's a
friend of mine. He's too much of a gentleman; and when he's going
through his drill, it always seems as if one was putting a young officer
through his facings. Not that I wish him any harm; but if he's a
gentleman he ought to have got his commission, and kept out of the
ranks."

"Well, sergeant," said Billy Mustard, "I don't see that it matters much
what a man is, so long as he's ready for dooty, and I will say as Gray
never sticks himself up, but does his dooty like a man."

"Yah! he'll turn out no good," snarled Private Sim, looking round.

"Well, for my part," said old Dick, "if I was to go in for being cunnle
of a regiment, I should like that there regiment to be all private
Simses, and then I'd have all the officers doctors."

"And a big hospital for barracks," said the sergeant, laughing. "And
rations of physic served out every day," cried Billy Mustard.

There was a hearty laugh at this; but it was checked directly, as the
men recalled that one of their number was lying in grievous peril; while
Private Sim glanced round, uttered a snarl like that of a hyena, then
turned back and gave his left hand another punch.

"Laugh at me, will yer?" he growled, "when I'm so jolly ill. Just let
me get hold o' that there fiddle o' yours, Master Billy Mustard, and
I'll smash it, see if I don't."

He seemed to feel better after this threat, and stood leaning over the
bulwarks, and spitting down into the sea, while one of the sailors went
aft to learn some tidings concerning Adam Gray.

Meanwhile, the centre of an anxious knot of observers, the young soldier
lay breathing very feebly in spite of the stimulants frequently
administered; and Bob Roberts, as he knelt close by on the deck, watched
with a strange feeling of heart-sickness coming over him. He could not
conceal from himself the fact that he had been the cause of all the
suffering; and full of self-reproach, he knelt there, considering
whether he should ever forget that scene, with the pale face of the fine
young fellow lying before him.

Gray seemed to be in no great pain, but to be suffering more from a
strange delirium caused by the working of the tiny drops of poison
injected in his veins. He muttered a few words occasionally, and
started convulsively from t