[Alan Warren] is off traipsing across Brooklyn with Colonel Knowlton and the rest of the Rangers on an exciting reconnaissance mission where they'll run into bands of redcoats and shoot them all to hell while I remain here, doing nothing of value but waiting for morning when I can escort you to the hospital (a task a blind, one legged invalid could do) all so I can relay the secret message to "Dr. Cousin" that he's to send you home, despite the explicit commands of my colonel which, upon discovery, will inevitably lead to my demotion, imprisonment, or at the very least a serious reprimanding from the cat of nine tails - none of which I anticipate with any joy. Is it morning?