"So the Doctor comes back tomorrow, Major," the Adjutant, who had
been one of the whist party, said. "I shall be very glad to have
him back. In the first place, he is a capital fellow, and keeps
us all alive; secondly, he is a good deal better doctor than the
station surgeon who has been looking after the men since we have
been here; and lastly, if I had got anything the matter with me
myself, I would rather be in his hands than those of anyone else
I know."

"Yes, I agree with you, Prothero; the Doctor is as good a fellow as
ever stepped. There is no doubt about his talent in his profession;
and there are a good many of us who owed our lives to him when
we were down with cholera, in that bad attack three years ago. He
is good all round; he is just as keen a shikari as he was when he
joined the regiment, twenty years ago; he is a good billiard player,
and one of the best storytellers I ever came across; but his best
point is that he is such a thoroughly good fellow--always ready
to do a good turn to anyone, and to help a lame dog over a stile.
I could name a dozen men in India who owe their commissions to him.
I don't know what the regiment would do without him."

"He went home on leave just after I joined," one of the subalterns
said. "Of course, I know, from all I have heard of him, that he is
an awfully good fellow, but from the little I saw of him myself,
he seemed always growling and snapping."

There was a general laugh from the others.

"Yes, that is his way, Thompson," the Major said; "he believes
himself to be one of the most cynical and morose of men."