uard arrived at the "double," followed by Trooper
Bear carrying a hurricane-lamp.

"What's the row?" panted the Sergeant. "Matthewson on the booze agin?"

"I report that there is a living man in the mortuary, Sergeant,"
replied Dam. "Priddell is not dead. I heard him groan, and I scrambled
up to the grating and saw him lying on the ground by the door."

"Well, you'll see yerself groanin' an' lyin' on the ground in the
Digger, now," replied the Sergeant, and, as much in sorrow as in
anger, he added, "An' _you_'re the bloke I signed a petition for his
permotion are yer? At it agin a'ready!"

"But, good Heavens, man, can't you see I'm as sober as you are, and
much less excited? Can't you send for the key of the mortuary and call
the doctor? The poor chap may die for your stupidity."

"You call _me_ a 'man' again, my lad, an' I'll show you what a
Sergeant can do fer them as 'e don't like! As fer 'sober'--I've 'ad
enough o' you 'sober'. W'y, in two ticks you may be on the ground
'owlin' and bellerin' and squealin' like a Berkshire pig over the
blood-tub. _Sober_! Yus--I seen you at it."

"Why on earth can't you come and _prove_ I'm drunk or mad," besought
Dam. "Open the mortuary and prove I'm wrong--and then put me under
arrest. Call the Surgeon and say the sentry over the mortuary reports
the inmate to be alive--_he_ has heard of catalepsy and comatose
collapse simulating death if _you_ haven't."

"Don' use sech 'orrible languidge," besought the respectable Corporal
Prag.

"Ho, yus! _I_'m agoin' to see meself whipt on the peg fer turnin' out
the Surgin from 'is little bed in the middle o' the night--to come an'
'ave a look at the dead corpse 'e put in orders fer the Dead 'Ole,
ain't I? Jest becos the champion snaike-seer o' E Troop's got 'em
agin, wot?"

Corporal Prag laughed merrily at the wit of his superior.

Turning to Bear, whom he knew to be as well educated as himself, Dam
remarked:--

"Poor chap has rallied from the cholera collapse and could probably be
saved by stimulants and warmth. This suspended animation is common
enough in cholera. Why, the Brahmins have a regular ritual for dealing
with cases of recovery on the funeral pyre--purification after
defilement by the corpse-washers or something of the sort. These
stupid oafs are letting poor Priddell die--"

"What! you drunken talkin' parrot," roared the incensed Sergeant.
"'Ere, sling 'is drunken rotten carkis--"

"What's the row here?" cut in a