He took several small bottles of medicines in addition to the particular one upon which he depended.
Job conducted him to the fort, which was over a mile distant.

The lieutenant was not dressed in his uniform with the shoulder straps, though he had procured one from the store ship at the station; but he had adjusted his garments to the needs of the occasion, so that, if captured he could hardly be recognized as a Union officer.

But he had his navy revolvers in his hip pockets, though they were covered by the skirts of the frock coat he wore, for he had borrowed this garment of the surgeon.
At the principal entrance of the fort they were challenged by the sentinel.

Mr.Pennant was somewhat afraid his northern dialect would betray him, for he was not a highly educated man, though he was exceedingly well informed in all matters pertaining to the duties of a shipmaster.
"Stand! Who comes there ?" said the sentinel.
"Friends," replied the lieutenant.
"Advance, friends, and give the countersign!" "We have no countersign to give." "Who are you ?" demanded the soldier.
"Dr.Waterton," answered Mr.Pennant, giving the first name that came into his head, for the medical title was the essential thing.
"All right, doctor; I have been directed to admit you.

Pass in, sir." Job was familiar with the interior of the fort, and he led the way; but before they had crossed the parade, the soldier who had gone for the doctor came to them, and conducted them to a casemate, where the sick soldier was still suffering terrible pains.
"Lieutenant Fourchon, this is the doctor; but I do not know his name," said the soldier.
"Dr.Waterton," added Mr.Pennant.
"I am glad to see you, Dr.Waterton, for I have exhausted all my remedies," said Lieutenant Fourchon.