omen to join
them in a rush through the passage; but they gave up the thought
directly, for they knew that if they could get by the flames, there were
more cruel foes outside, waiting to thrust them back.

So they all sat down in a quiet, resigned way, listening to the crackle
outside the door, watching the thin smoke filter through the crevices,
and form in clouds, or pools, according to where it came through.

And you'd have wondered to see those poor fellows, how they acted: why,
Joe Bantem rubbed his face with his handkerchief, smoothed his hair and
whiskers, and then got his belts square, as if off out on parade, before
going and sitting quietly down by his wife.

Measles lay very still, gently humming over the old child's hymn, _Oh!
that'll be joyful_, but only to burst out again into a fit of grumbling.

Another went and knelt down in a corner, where he stayed; the rest shook
hands all round, and then, seeing Captain Dyer sitting up, and sensible,
they went and saluted him, and asked leave to shake hands with him,
quite upsetting him, poor fellow, as he called them, in a faint voice,
his "brave lads," and asked their pardon, if he'd ever been too harsh
with them.

"God bless you! no, sir," says Joe Bantem, jumping up, and shaking the
hand himself, "which _that_ you've never been, but always a good officer
as your company loved. Keep a brave heart, my boys, it'll soon be over.
We've stood in front of death too many times now to shew the
white-feather. Hurray for Captain Dyer, and may he have his regiment in
the tother land, and we be some of his men!"

Joe Bantem gave a bit of a reel as he said this, and then he'd have
fallen if it hadn't been for his wife; and though his was rather strong
language, you see it must be excused, for, leave alone his wounds, and
the mad feeling they'd bring on, there was a wild excitement on the men
then, brought on by the fighting, which made them, as you may say,
half-drunk.

We must all have been choked over and over again, but for that grating;
for the hotter the fire grew above, the finer current of air swept in.
The mutineers could not have known of it, or one of their first acts
must have been to seal it up. But it was half-covered by some creeping
flower, which made it invisible to them, and so we were able to breathe.

And now it may seem a curious thing, but I'm going to say a little more
about love. A strange time, you'll perhaps say, when those poor people
we