“I was with him, sir,” replied Jack, with great modesty, “but was of very little service.”
“How is your friend Gascoigne this evening?”
“Oh, not very bad, sir—he wants a glass of grog.”
“And Mr Martin?”
Jack shook his head.
“Why, the surgeon thinks he will do well.”
“Yes, sir, and so I told Martin; but he said that it was very well to give him hope—but that he thought otherwise.”
“You must manage him, Mr Easy; tell him that he is sure of his promotion.”
“I have, sir, but he won’t believe it. He never will believe it till he has his commission signed. I really think that an acting order would do more than the doctor can.”
“Well, Mr Easy, he shall have one to-morrow morning. Have you seen Mr Pottyfar? He, I am afraid, is very bad.”