It was six o'clock, and Pine had come to have a last look at his patients before dinner.

It seemed that there was somebody with him, for a kind, though somewhat pompous, voice remarked upon the scantiness of accommodation, and the "necessity--the absolute necessity" of complying with the King's Regulations.
Honest Vickers, though agonized for the safety of his child, would not abate a jot of his duty, and had sternly come to visit the sick men, aware as he was that such a visit would necessitate his isolation from the cabin where his child lay.

Mrs.Vickers--weeping and bewailing herself coquettishly at garrison parties--had often said that "poor dear John was such a disciplinarian, quite a slave to the service." "Here they are," said Pine; "six of 'em.

This fellow"-- going to the side of Rex--"is the worst.

If he had not a constitution like a horse, I don't think he could live out the night." "Three, eighteen, seven, four," muttered Rex; "dot and carry one.