"Well, gentlemen," said the resident, rather sadly, "I don't know, but I have a sort of presentiment that it would have been better if we had been without ladies, or soldiers' wives, if you come to that; for I cannot conceal from myself that we are bound upon a very risky expedition, one out of which I hope we shall all come safely." "Oh, we shall be safe enough," said the major. "Do you think there is really any danger, Mr Linton?" said Captain Smithers, rather hoarsely. "Why, you are not afraid, are you, Smithers? Come, you must not show the white feather!" "I am not afraid for myself, Major Sandars," said the young captain, quietly; "and I hope I shall never show the white feather; but when there are women and children in an expedition--" "Oh, come, come," said the resident, gaily; "I am afraid I have been croaking. There may be danger; but when we are surrounded by such brave men as the officers and crew of the `Startler,' and her Majesty's somethingth foot, I see, after all, nothing whatever to fear." "Fear? no!" said Captain Horton. "Why, we could blow the whole place to Cape Horn with my guns; and the Malays would never face Sandars' boys, with their bayonets." "Did you notice that sentry, Smithers?" asked the little doctor, in a low voice, of his companion, as the conversation now became less general. "Sentry? which one?" "This one," said the doctor. "Don't speak aloud, or he'll hear you." "Private Gray? No, I did not notice anything. What do you mean?" "The light of that lantern shines full on his face, and he made a movement that drew my attention, when we were talking of there being danger." "Indeed?" said the captain. "Yes; he was evidently listening to the conversation, and I saw him start so that he nearly dropped his piece; his face was quite convulsed, and he turned of a sickly pallor. The light was so strong upon him that I could see his lips whiten." "Or was it fancy, doctor?" "Fancy? No, my lad, that was no fancy; and I hope we have not many more like him in the regiment." "Well, for my part," said Captain Smithers, quietly, "I have often wished that my company was composed of Adam Grays." "Adam, eh? To be sure; I remember the fellow now. Well, he's a poor descendant of the first Adam, for if that fellow is not an arrant coward my name isn't Bolter." "Really, doctor, I think you do the man an injustice. He is a very superior, well educated fellow; and it has often puzzled me how he became a private soldier." "Scamp!" said the doctor, shortly. "Some runaway or another. The ranks of the army are made a receptacle for blackguards!"