Captain Horton nodded approval, and the resident agreed that they could do nothing better; so the message was delivered to the sultan's ambassadors, who looked exceedingly depressed upon hearing it, and as if they would have gladly exchanged places with somebody else. "Those fellows expect to get into trouble," said the major, as he noticed the change. He was quite right, for the two chiefs took their departure, looking as if they expected to be introduced by their wrathful ruler to the execution kris as soon as they returned. The troops had been expecting orders for a trip down the river in search of the two prahus, but the command came upon them, as such matters usually do, just when it was least expected. One company, under Captain Smithers, was ordered to embark, but to Tom Long's great disgust, he found he was not included. He hurried to the doctor's quarters, and found that gentleman busy with a case of instruments, open before him. "Look here, Long," he said; "did you ever see such a wretched country as this? Everything rusts; look at my instruments." "Yes, sir, it is terrible; such fine steel too." "Fine steel? There isn't a better case in the army. I could do anything with these tools." Tom Long shuddered as he glanced at the long, fearfully keen knives, and the saw--so horribly suggestive of taking off arms and legs. Doctor Bolter saw it, and smiled to himself. "Come to say good-bye, Long?" he said, as he stuffed some lint into a pouch, with some bandages. "I'm not a lighting man, and don't mean to be killed." "No, sir. I came to ask you to let me go--to give me a certificate, saying I am quite well enough." "But you are not, my dear boy. You are too weak." "Weak, sir? No, I feel as strong as a lion. Let me go, doctor." "What nonsense, my dear lad! I'm not the commandant. Ask the major." "No, sir," said Tom Long. "You are not the commandant by name, but from the major downwards you do just as you like with us. Hang me if I'd have drunk such filthy stuff as you gave me, by the major's orders. I'd sooner have lost my commission." "Ha, ha, ha!--Ha, ha, ha!" laughed the doctor. "That's very good, Long, very good indeed. I suppose I do get the better of all of you in turn. Ha, ha, ha! But look here, my dear boy, I don't think you are well enough yet." "Do let me go, doctor," pleaded Tom. "There, I don't want to _fight_, but let me go with you and help you. This dreadful do-nothing sort of life seems to make me worse." "Idleness is bad for any man," said the doctor. Tom Long felt flattered at being called a man, but still looked pleadingly at the doctor. "I could take care of your instruments, sir, and hand you what you wanted if there were any of our fellows hurt." "Humph! yes, you could do that," said the doctor. "But look here," he said, gazing searchingly into the youth's face; "did you take your medicine to-day?"