ALICE. Oh, they are only from the non-commissioned officers, the bandmen, and the gunners.
CAPTAIN. You are jealous.
ALICE. Oh, no. If it were laurel wreaths, that would be another matter—but those you can never get.
CAPTAIN. Hm!—Here's a telegram from the Colonel—read it, Curt. The Colonel is a gentleman after all—though he is something of an idiot. And this is from—what does it say? It is from Judith! Please telegraph her to come with the next boat. And here—yes, one is not quite without friends after all, and it is fine to see them take thought of a sick man, who is also a man of deserts above his rank, and a man free of fear or blemish.
ALICE. I don't quite understand—are they congratulating you because you are sick?
CAPTAIN. Hyena!
ALICE. Yes, we had a doctor here on the island who was so hated that when he left they gave a banquet—after him, and not for him!
CAPTAIN. Put the flowers in water—I am not easily caught, and all people are a lot of rabble, but, by heavens, these simple tributes are genuine—they cannot be anything but genuine!
ALICE. Fool!
CURT. [Reading the telegram] Judith says she cannot come because the steamer is held back by the storm.