"Nothing of the kind: you are quite wrong."
"Is there not always a little laughing and crying," said I.
"Oh, no, no; take the cue from the paymaster any evening after mess, and you'll make no mistake—very florid about the cheeks; rather a lazy look in one eye, the other closed up entirely; snore a little from time to time, and don't be too much disposed to talk."
"And you think I may pass muster in this way."
"Indeed you may, if old Camie, the inspector, happen to be (what he is not often) in a good humour. But I confess I'd rather you were really ill, for we've passed a great number of counterfeits latterly, and we may be all pulled up ere long."
"Not the less grateful for your kindness," said I; "but still, I'd rather matters stood as they do."
Having, at length, obtained a very formidable statement of my 'case' from the Doctor, and a strong letter from the Colonel, deploring the temporary loss of so promising a young officer, I committed myself and my portmanteau to the inside of his Majesty's mail, and started for Dublin with as light a heart and high spirits, as were consistent with so much delicacy of health, and the directions of my Doctor.