“Oh!—I was not aware that I had had the pleasure of meeting you before,” said the Doctor, brightening. “Where was it, sir? I regret that my memory has not served me better.” He seated himself.
“I did not say I had met you—I said I knew you, and I do. I know you both.”
“Oh! I thought I should not have forgotten,” said the Doctor.
“No, nor you won’t. I have a report of you, and know why you’ve come.” He shook his head as he turned to them. “I’m Colonel Krafton, Provost of this district, and I mean to be the Provost, and you might as well understand it now as hereafter.”
“Oh!” said the Doctor, rising slowly from the seat he had taken.
“I know about your conferences, and your meetings, and the terms you propose to dictate to me; but I will show you that I am in authority here and I don’t propose to be dictated to, either; do you understand? I don’t want any of your advice. When I want you I’ll send for you; do you understand? “
The Doctor, who had waited in a sort of maze for the Provost to pause, turned to his friend, whose face was perfectly white and whose usually pleasant eyes had a red rim around the irises.
“I beg your pardon, General Legaie, I thought we should find a gentleman, but——”
“I never did, Major,” said the little General. “But I had no idea we should find such a dog as this.” He turned to the Provost, and, with a bow, fixed his eyes on him. But that officer looked at the sentry and said:
“Open the door.”