"Well!" spoke the other, repeating his word, but a little abashed by the calmness of the officer, whose arm he had let go the moment he turned to speak to him. "Well!—perhaps it is none of my business, you know—but why the d—l don't you fellows who have such handsome uniforms, and commissions, and all that sort of thing, go down and help?"
"Humph!" said the Captain, still with no symptom of being abashed or angry. "Perhaps it would be as well, for all of us who could."
"Oh, you can't go, eh?" said another member of the assemblage, in a sneering tone.
"Not yet!" was the reply of the officer.
"I thought not!" said the man who had first addressed him.
"See here, boys!" said the Captain, "haven't you made a mistake in your man? I hate a stay-at-home soldier, quite as much as you."
"Why don't you go, then?" one of the others again interrupted.
"I have been, and I am going again!" said the Captain, emphatically. "I see what is the matter. I have just put on a new uniform, and you think that looks suspicious. So it does, I suppose; but my old one has been through six pitched battles and looks rough enough to suit you."
"The d—l it has!" said the man who had addressed him. "Really, Captain, I beg your pardon!"
"Never mind that!" said the Captain. "You will probably hit the right man next time, and the quicker you shame the make-believes into doing something or pulling off their uniforms, the better. McClellan wants us all—"