Stephen Crane, The Sergeant's Private Madhouse (1899)
“ The Sergeant, as he came nearer and nearer to this cactus bush -- a number of peculiarly dignified columns throwing shadows of inky darkness -- had slowed his pace, for he did not wish to trifle with the feelings of the sentry. He was expecting his stern hail, and was ready with the immediate answer which turns away wrath. He was not made anxious by the fact that he could not as yet see Dryden, for he knew that the man would be hidden in a way practiced by sentry marines since the time when two men had been killed by a disease of excessive confidence on picket. ”
