"Arise, for morning in the bowl of night Has chucked a stone to put the stars to flight.
And lo! and lo!... Get up, Ali; the caravan is moving. Oh, make haste!"
("Omar will never be dead so long as Bones quotes him," Hamilton once said; "he simply couldn't afford to be dead and leave it to Bones!")
Ali rose, blinking and shivering, for the early morning was very cold, and he had been sleeping under an old padded dressing-gown which Bones had donated.
"Muster all the hands," said Bones, setting his lantern on the deck.
"Sir," said Ali slowly, "the subjects are not at our disposition. Your preliminary instructions presupposed that you had made necessary arrangements re personnel."
Bones scratched his head.
"Dash my whiskers," he said, in his annoyance, "didn't I tell you that I was taking the honourable lady for a trip? Didn't I tell you, you jolly old slacker, to have everything ready by daybreak? Didn't I issue explicit an' particular instructions about grub?"
"Sir," said Ali, "you didn't."
"Then," said Bones wrathfully, "why the dickens do I think I have?"
"Sir," said Ali, "some subjects, when enjoying refreshing coma, possess delirium, hallucinations, highly imaginative, which dissipate when the subject recovers consciousness, but retain in brain cavity illusory reminiscences."