[CHAPTER VIII]
According to the doctor's orders I went to the medical visit in the morning. Being a Sunday, there were but a few men who had reported themselves, but besides myself there were two Volontaires, one of them being the poor fellow of whom I spoke when I described our first riding-lesson under Sergeant Legros; the inside of his knee had been so badly scraped that further riding had caused extensive inflammation, and he was ordered to the Infirmerie (a kind of hospital ward in the barracks, where sick soldiers who want special attention, but are not ill enough to go to hospital, are kept). As before, the doctor kept me waiting until he had disposed of the other cases, and then exempted me from duty for two days. I was thus excused from all work, and, what I still more appreciated, had not to sleep in the Salle de Police.
The doctor also inquired very kindly how we were treated by our Sergeant. I frankly told him the truth. "I am not astonished," he said; "I know the man and I pity you." He then went on to tell me how different had been the treatment of the Volontaires under the previous Colonel; my friend, de Lanoy, was then in charge of them, and none of the bullying we were subject to ever occurred, or would have been tolerated then. The doctor further allowed me to make use of the dispensary if I cared to read or write while off duty, and, as will be seen, I owe an immense debt of gratitude to him, as well as to the other Surgeon-major of my regiment, Dr. Lesage, who was Surgeon-captain, Dr. Chatelain holding only the rank of Lieutenant.
In the afternoon I availed myself of the permission which had been granted me of using the dispensary, and I was sitting there sketching when Surgeon-major Lesage stepped into the room. He was a brisk and restless little man, very stern in appearance, but with the kindest of hearts.
"What the deuce are you doing there?" he asked, as I rose to salute him and stood at attention. I explained matters to him. "Yes," he said, "I know; Dr. Chatelain has spoken to me about you, but you're a bit of a pricotteur,[37] aren't you?"
"No, sir," I replied.
"Never mind, never mind," he said in his brusque way. "When you are ill, I'll look after you, but don't come to me when you aren't—I don't like it."
He hurried out of the room, and went to visit the troopers in the sick ward.