This was a grave, thin-faced young fellow who had joined them in the cabin for a cup of tea, and Captain Jolly had simply introduced him with a wink as Dr. Subrosa. "It's heartbreaking," he said, with deepest feeling. "We have lost thousands of good men from sheer want of the simplest necessaries, and almost every one of them might have been saved. For weeks I had not a single drug except alum! Think of it! And to see those poor fellows in torture, and dying like flies, when you knew you could save them if you could only lay your hands on the proper remedies!" "I'll be bound there's piles of all you wanted stowed away in Balaclava somewhere," said the captain. "I fear so. I came down, day after day--and it was no easy matter, I can assure you--and begged them to give me any mortal thing they had for my fevers and rheumatisms and diarrh[oe]as; and the reply was always just a parrot-like 'Haven't any--Haven't any--Haven't any,'--till I would willingly have poisoned every man who said it. They're getting calloused to it all, and, as Captain Jolly says, not a man among them dare lift his finger without a written order." "Take my own case," he said, turning to Jim. "The continuous wear and tear, and the constant sight of nothing but sickness and death and broken men, were beginning to tell on me----"' "My God, I don't wonder!" jerked Jim. "My chief on the medical staff told me I must get away for fourteen days or so or I'd break down, and he signed me the proper form for the purpose. I found it had to be countersigned by the quartermaster-general, then by the colonel of the regiment to which I was attached, then by the general of the division, and finally by the adjutant-general. It is probably still going round among them, if it hasn't got lost. I waited six days and could get no word of it, and my chief advised me to take French leave and bring back some drugs if they're to be had. I'm told there is a _Times_ man come out with money, to help make good some of the shortcomings in the official providence, and I'm hoping he'll help me. I'm actually a deserter, you see. That's why this dear old chap calls me Subrosa. My name is McLean, and I'm attached to the 63rd." "And a rare good sort he is," said Captain Jolly. "Did I tell you about my load of boots?" "No; what was it about the boots?" "Last voyage I came out with nothing but boots--more boots than you ever dreamt of, thousands and thousands of pairs. The whole ship stank of 'em--smelt like a tannery. Well, when they let us into Balaclava Harbour at last, and we were hoping to get rid of the boots----" "They're going barefoot yet, many of them," said McLean.