"I have no swarms of conscience there, Billy Bag; shot. For the bones uv
me frinds that's lyin' in this haythen land, I'll clane as fur as I can
reach. An' I'll have the run uv me belt to-day, an--" he added, then
stopped short as the order came from McNeill that the Berkshires should
receive dinner by half-battalions.

"An' 'igh time," said Corporal Bagshot. "What with marchin' and
zeribakin' and the sun upon me tank since four this mornin', I'm dead for
food and buried for water. I ain't no bloomin' salamanker to be grilled
and say thank-ye, and I ain't no bloomin' camomile to bring up me larder
and tap me tank when Coolin's commissaryat hasn't no orders."

"Shure ye'll run better impty, Billy boy," said Connor. "An' what fer do
ye need food before y'r execution?" he added, with a twist of his mouth.

"Before execution, ye turkey-cock--before execution is the time to eat
and drink. How shall the bloomin' carnage gore the Libyan sands, if
there ain't no refreshment for the vitals and the diagrams?"

"Come an wid ye to y'r forage-cake, thin-an' take this to ye," added
Connor slyly, as he slipped a little nickel-plated flask into Billy
Bagshot's hand.

"With a Woking crematory in y'r own throat. See you bloomin' furder!"
answered Billy Bagshot.

"I'm not drinkin' to-day," answered Connor, with a curious look in the
eye that had no cast. "I'm not drinkin', you understand."