------------------------------------------------------------------------ During the night the sergeant was taken ill; and as he was no better in the morning, Lieutenant Broadstreet, who did not wish to go without him, was further delayed. The lieutenant hoped, however, that by noon the poor fellow might have sufficiently recovered to enable them to start. After breakfast I accompanied him to the hut to visit the other men. Although he summoned them by name,--shouting out "Karl Klitz," "Barney Gillooly," "Pat Sperry,"--no one answered; so, shoving open the door, we entered. At first the hut appeared to be empty, but as we looked into one of the bunks we beheld the last-named individual, so sound asleep that, though his officer shouted to him to know what had become of his comrades, he only replied by grunts. "The fellow must be drunk," exclaimed the lieutenant, shaking the man. This was very evident; and as the lieutenant intended not to set off immediately, he resolved to leave him in bed to sleep off his debauch. But what had become of the German and the fat Irishman? was the question. The men belonging to the hut were all away, so we had to go in search of one of them, to learn if he could give any account of the truants. The negro, who went by no other name than Sam or Black Sam, was the first we met. Sam averred, on his honour as a gentleman, that when he left the hut in the morning they were all sleeping as quietly as lambs; and he concluded that they had gone out to take a bath in the stream, or a draught of cool water at the spring. The latter the lieutenant thought most probable, if they had been indulging in potations of whisky on the previous evening; as to bathing, none of them were likely to go and indulge in such a luxury. To Cold-Water Spring we went; but they were not to be seen, nor could the other men give any account of them. The lieutenant burst into a fit of laughter, not unmixed with vexation. "A pretty set of troops I have to command--my sergeant sick, one drunk, and two missing." "Probably Klitz and Gillooly have only taken a ramble, and will soon be back," I observed; "and by that time the other fellow will have recovered from his tipsy fit; so it is of no use to be vexed. You should be more anxious about Sergeant Custis, for I fear he will not be able to accompany you for several days to come." On going back to the house, we found the sergeant no better. Rachel, indeed, said that he was in a raging fever, and that he must have suffered from a sunstroke, or something of that sort.