The regiment formed on the parade, and we marched off in a few minutes to the riding-house, where the triangle was erected, about which the men formed a square, with the Colonel, the Adjutant, the Surgeon, and the drummers in the centre.
“Attention!” roared out the Colonel. The word, were it not that it was technically necessary, need not have been used, for the attention of all was most intense; and scarcely could the footsteps of the last men, closing in, be fairly said to have broken the gloomy silence of the riding-house. The two prisoners were now marched into the centre of the square, escorted by a corporal and four men.
“Attention!” was again called, and the Adjutant commanded to read the proceedings of the court-martial. When he had concluded, the Colonel commanded the private to “strip.”
The drummers now approached the triangle, four in number, and the senior took up the “cat” in order to free the “tails” from entanglement with each other.
“Strip, Sir!” repeated the Colonel, having observed that the prisoner seemed reluctant to obey the first order.
“Colonel,” replied he, in a determined tone, “I’ll volunteer.”[3]
“You’ll volunteer, will you, Sir?”
“Yes; sooner than I’ll be flogged.”
“I am not sorry for that. Such fellows as you can be of no use to the service except in Africa. Take him back to the guard-house, and let the necessary papers be made out for him immediately.”
The latter sentence was addressed to the Corporal of the guard who escorted the prisoners, and accordingly the man who volunteered was marched off, a morose frown and contemptuous sneer strongly marked on his countenance.