“Doctor,” said I, “did you order me to be put in the guard-house?”
“Yes,” he replied, frankly.
“You have no right to do it,” I said, with some force. “I am a sergeant, and cannot, without a trial, be confined in a guard-house.”
“But you can,” he retorted, “if there are men enough here to carry you up. Go, boys, and put him in No. 41.”
The two guards came up to me, and one of them said:
“Come, now, you see we are ordered to do it. We don’t like to, but——”
“I will go with you,” said I, “for I know you are a soldier; but if that dandified little sergeant comes within reach of me, I will break his head!”
I again ascended the stairs, for I saw that resistance would be both useless and wrong; and one of the guards, inserting the key, opened the door, and I walked in. Just then, the cowardly little sergeant made his appearance, rushed to the door, drew it to, turned the key, and tauntingly said:
“Now I’ve got you, my fine fellow! You see a sergeant can be put in the guard-house!”
I could not help acknowledging the truth of this, but did not do so to him. I merely promised to lick him as soon as I should get out.