The Doctor was in the billiard-room, trying to make a cannon, to the infinite diversion of his more skilful brother officers. His muscular but not graceful figure was stretched over the table, and his scarlet shell-jacket, whose seams were strained nearly to bursting by his attitude, contrasted powerfully with the green cloth as the strong gas-light fell upon him. Just as he was going to make the great stroke a strong hand was laid upon his arm.
"Now then, Isaac Ogden, you've spoiled a splendid stroke. I don't hoftens get such a chance."
"You're wanted for summat else, Doctor. Come, look sharp; the Colonel's waiting for you."
In common with many members of his profession, Dr. Bardly had a dislike to be called in a hurried and peremptory manner, and a disposition, when so called, to take his time. He had so often been pressed unnecessarily that he had acquired a general conviction that cases could wait—and he made them wait, more or less. In this instance, however, Isaac Ogden insisted on a departure from the Doctor's usual customs, and threw his gray military cloak over his shoulders, and set his cap on his head, and led him to the street-door, where he found the tandem, the Colonel in his place with the Adjutant, Fyser already mounted behind, and the leader dancing with impatience.
The bright lamps flashed swiftly through the dingy streets of Sootythorn, and soon their light fell on the blossoming hedges in the country. Colonel Stanburne had been too much occupied with his horses whilst they were in the streets; but now on the broad open road he had more leisure to talk, and he was the first to break silence.
"You don't know any further details, do you, Eureton?"
"Nothing beyond what I told you. The innkeeper who brought the news was the one Captain Stanburne was billeted with, and he quitted Whittlecup immediately after the event. He appears quite certain that Captain Stanburne is dead. The body was brought to the inn before the man left, and he was present at the examination of it by a doctor who had been hastily sent for."
"Beg pardon, sir," said Fyser from behind, "I asked the innkeeper some questions myself. It appears that Captain Stanburne was wounded in the head, sir, and his skull was broken. It was done with a deal board that a Hirish militia-man tore up out of a floor. There was two Hirish that was quarrellin' and fightin', and the Captain put 'em both into a hempty room which was totally without furnitur', and where they'd nothink but straw to lie upon; and he kep 'em there under confinement, and set a guard at the door. And then these two drunken Hirish fights wi' their fists—but fists isn't bloody enough for Hirish, so they starts tearin' up the boards o' the floor, and the guard at the door tried to interfere between 'em, but, not havin' no arms, could do very little; and the Captain was sent for, and as soon as hever one o' these Hirish sees him he says, 'Here's our bloody Captain,' and he aims a most tremenjious stroke at him with his deal board, and it happened most unfortunate that it hit the Captain with the rusty nail in it."
"I wonder it never occurred to him to separate the Irishmen," observed Eureton, in a lower tone, to the Colonel. "He ought not to have confined them together."