John Penhallow was shortly relieved by McGregor's order that he should
get some exercise. It enabled him to escape the early surgical visit and
the diverse odours of surgical dressings which lingered in the long ward
while breakfast was being served. There were more uneasy sleepers than he
in the ward and much pain, and crippled men with little to look forward
to. The suffering he saw and could not lessen had been for John one of
the depressing agencies of this hospital life. The ward was quiet when he
awoke at dawn of April 13th. He quickly summoned an orderly and endured
the daily humiliation of being dressed like a baby. He found Josiah
waiting with the camp-chair at the door as he came out of the ward.
"How you feeling, Master John?"
"Rather better. What time is it? That Reb stole my watch." Even yet it
was amusing. He laughed at the remembrance of having been relieved by the
prisoners of purse and watch.
For Josiah to extract his own watch was as McGregor said something
like a surgical operation. "It's not goin', Master John. It's been losing
time--like it wasn't accountable. What's it called watch for if it don't
watch?"
This faintly amused John. He said no more, but sat enjoying the early
morning quiet, the long hazy reaches of the James River, the awakening of
life here and there, and the early stir among the gun-boats.
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