One phenomenon, however, did not fail to make its due impression upon the men; this was the diminution in the length of day and night. Three days after the catastrophe, Corporal Pim, on behalf of himself and his comrades, solicited a formal interview with the officers. The request having been granted, Pim, with the nine soldiers, all punctiliously wearing the regimental tunic of scarlet and trousers of invisible green, presented themselves at the door of the colonel’s room, where he and his brother-officer were continuing their game. Raising his hand respectfully to his cap, which he wore poised jauntily over his right ear, and scarcely held on by the strap below his under lip, the corporal waited permission to speak.
After a lingering survey of the chess-board, the colonel slowly lifted his eyes, and said with official dignity, “Well, men, what is it?”
“First of all, sir,” replied the corporal, “we want to speak to you about our pay, and then we wish to have a word with the major about our rations.”
“Say on, then,” said Colonel Murphy. “What is it about your pay?”
“Just this, sir; as the days are only half as long as they were, we should like to know whether our pay is to be diminished in proportion.”
The colonel was taken somewhat aback, and did not reply immediately, though by some significant nods towards the major, he indicated that he thought the question very reasonable. After a few moments’ reflection, he replied, “It must, I think, be allowed that your pay was calculated from sunrise to sunrise; there was no specification of what the interval should be. Your pay will continue as before. England can afford it.”
A buzz of approval burst involuntarily from all the men, but military discipline and the respect due to their officers kept them in check from any boisterous demonstration of their satisfaction.
“And now, corporal, what is your business with me?” asked Major Oliphant.
“We want to know whether, as the days are only six hours long, we are to have but two meals instead of four?”
The officers looked at each other, and by their glances agreed that the corporal was a man of sound common sense.
“Eccentricities of nature,” said the major, “cannot interfere with military regulations. It is true that there will be but an interval of an hour and a half between them, but the rule stands good— four meals a day. England is too rich to grudge her soldiers any of her soldiers’ due. Yes; four meals a day.”
“Hurrah!” shouted the soldiers, unable this time to keep their delight within the bounds of military decorum; and, turning to the right-about, they marched away, leaving the officers to renew the all-absorbing game.
However confident everyone upon the island might profess to be that succor would be sent them from their native land— for Britain never abandons any of her sons—it could not be disguised that that succor was somewhat tardy in making its appearance. Many and various were the conjectures to account for the delay. Perhaps England was engrossed with domestic matters, or perhaps she was absorbed in diplomatic difficulties; or perchance, more likely than all, Northern Europe had received no tidings of the convulsion that had shattered the south. The whole party throve remarkably well upon the liberal provisions of the commissariat department, and if the officers failed to show the same tendency to embonpoint which was fast becoming characteristic of the men, it was only because they deemed it due to their rank to curtail any indulgences which might compromise the fit of their uniform.
On the whole, time passed indifferently well. An Englishman rarely suffers from ennui, and then only in his own country, when required to conform to what he calls “the humbug of society”; and the two officers, with their similar tastes, ideas, and dispositions, got on together admirably. It is not to be questioned that they were deeply affected by a sense of regret for their lost comrades, and astounded beyond measure at finding themselves the sole survivors of a garrison of 1,895 men, but with true British pluck and self-control, they had done nothing more than draw up a report that 1,882 names were missing from the muster-roll.