“Doctor been changing your physic?”
“Why?” I said.
“Because you both look fifty pounds better than you did yesterday.”
“It’s the hope that has come, Briggs,” cried Denham, his face lighting up.
“Haven’t got a bit to spare, have you, sir?” said the Sergeant; “because I should like to try how it would agree with my case, for I’m horribly down in the mouth at present. I don’t like the look of things at all.”
“What do you mean?” asked Denham.
“I had a look round at the horses, sir, last night.”
“Not got the horse-sickness, Briggs?”
“No, sir, not so bad as that; but, speaking as an old cavalry man, I say that they mustn’t be kept shut up much longer. But there, I shall be spoiling your looks and knocking your hope over. Good-morning, gentlemen—I mean, lieutenant and private. Glad to see you both look so well. I’ll tell Joe Black you want him.”
“Yes, he’d upset our hopefulness altogether, Val, if it wasn’t for one thing—eh?” said Denham as the wagon-tilt swung to after the Sergeant. “But, I say, that fellow of yours ought to be here by now.”