Here the officers off duty lounged and rested, and here upon this particular night they were gathered round the social board to dine, each officer with his own servant; and it is worthy of remark that with officer and man, rifle, revolver, and sword were racked close at hand. "Round the social board" is a most appropriate term, though not quite correct; for, while social in the highest degree, quite a brotherly spirit influencing the officers present, the board was really two, held together by a couple of cross-pieces and laid upon barrels, while the seats were of all kinds, from cartridge-boxes to up-ended flour-barrels, branded _Na_. and _Pa_. and _Va_., and various other contractions of long-sounding United States names, which indicated where the fine white flour they once contained had been grown and ground. The mess cook had done the best he could, and provided some excellent bread, but it was rather short in quantity. As to the meat, it was hot; but there were no dish-covers, which Bob Dickenson said did not matter in the least, for during the past few weeks they had been careful to draw a veil over the food. But of water, such as needed no filtering, there was ample, ready for quaffing out of tin mug, silver flask, cup, or horn. "And the beauty of our tipple now is," said Bob, "that it never does a fellow the least harm." It was a favourite remark of his, "an impromptu" that had been much admired. He made the remark again on this particular evening, but his tones sounded dismal. "It's a great blessing, though," he added; "we might have none. Yes, capital water," he continued, draining his cup and setting it down with a rap on his part of the board. "Just think, Drew, old man, we might be forced to sit here drinking bad champagne." "I don't want to drink bad or good champagne, old fellow," said Lennox; "but I do wish we had a barrel of good, honest, home-brewed British ale, with--" "A brace of well-roasted pheasants between us two--eh?" "No; I was going to say, a good crusty loaf and a cut off a fine old Stilton cheese." "J-Ja!" sighed the next man. "Never mind, gentlemen," said the colonel; "what we have will do to work upon. When we've done our work, and get back home, I'll be bound to say that John Bull will ask us to dinner oftener than will do us good. What do you say, doctor?" "What do I say, Colonel Lindley?" cried the doctor, putting down his flask-cup. "I say this Spartan fare agrees with us all admirably. Look round the table, and see what splendid condition we are all in. A bit spare, but brown, wiry, and active as men can be. Never mind the food. You are all living a real life on the finest air I ever breathed. We are all pictures of health now; and where I have a wound to deal with it heals fast--a sure sign that the patient's flesh is in a perfect state."