(With _portentous gravity_.) It's the happiest
day in my life.
CAPT. M. (Chuckling grimly.) Not by a very long chalk, my son. You're
going through some of the most refined torture you've ever known. But
be calm. I am with you. 'Shun! _Dress_!
CAPT. G. Eh! Wha-at?
CAPT. M. DO you suppose that you are your own master for the next
twelve hours? If you _do_, of course--- (_Makes for the door_.)
CAPT. G. No! For Goodness' sake, old man, don't do that! You'll see
me through, won't you? I've been mugging up that beastly drill, and
can't remember a line of it.
CAPT. M. (_Overhauling_ G's _uniform_.) Go and tub. Don't bother me.
I'll give you ten minutes to dress in.
_Interval, filled by the noise as of one splashing in the bath-room_.
CAPT. G. (_Emerging from dressing-room_.) What time is it?
CAPT. M. Nearly eleven.
CAPT. G. Five hours more. O Lord!
CAPT. M. (_Aside_.) 'First sign of funk, that. 'Wonder if it's going
to spread. (Aloud.) Come along to breakfast.
CAPT. G. I can't eat anything. I don't want any breakfast.
CAPT. M. (_Aside_.) So early! (_Aloud_.) Captain Gadsby, I _order_ you
to eat breakfast, and a dashed good breakfast, too.
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