“‘Mighty well done!’ said I, in reply; and resolving not to be outdone in coolness, I pulled out my snuff-box and offered him a pinch, saying, ‘The real thing, Sir Arthur; our own countryman,—blackguard.’
“He gave a little grim kind of a smile, took a pinch, and then called out,—
“‘Let Sherbroke advance!’ while turning again towards me, he said, ‘Where are your people, Colonel?’
“‘Colonel!’ thought I; ‘is it possible he’s going to promote me?’ But before I could answer, he was talking to another. Meanwhile Hill came up, and looking at me steadily, burst out with,—
“‘Why the devil are you here, sir? Why ain’t you at the rear?’
“‘Upon my conscience,’ said I, ‘that’s the very thing I’m puzzling myself about this minute! But if you think it’s pride in me, you’re greatly mistaken, for I’d rather the greatest scoundrel in Dublin was kicking me down Sackville Street, than be here now!’
“You’d think it was fun I was making, if you heard how they all laughed, Hill and Cameron and the others louder than any.
“‘Who is he?’ said Sir Arthur, quickly.
“‘Dr. Quill, surgeon of the Thirty-third, where I exchanged, to be near my brother, sir, in the Thirty-fourth.’
“‘A doctor,—a surgeon! That fellow a surgeon! Damn him, I took him for Colonel Grosvenor! I say, Gordon, these medical officers must be docked of their fine feathers, there’s no knowing them from the staff,—look to that in the next general order.’