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Soyer's Culinary Campaign: Being Historical Reminiscences of the Late War.: With The Plain Art of Cookery for Military and Civil Institutions

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Soyer's Culinary Campaign: Being Historical Reminiscences of the Late War.: With The Plain Art of Cookery for Military and Civil Institutions

by Soyer, Alexis · Page 179 of 593 · 207,454 words

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ready to go with her to the hospitals. “Pray, my lad, tell Miss Nightingale that I was going alone; but that, if she is well enough to go, I shall be very happy to accompany her.” Before I had time, however, to finish the sentence, Miss Nightingale had ascended the cabin stairs, and, I must say, looked very well. “Good morning, mademoiselle; how are you after your long journey of yesterday? I heard you were rather indisposed.” “I did feel unwell this morning, but am much better now. I am extremely sorry about Mr. Anderson, who, I am afraid, will be very much disfigured by last night’s accident.” “I hope it will not prove very serious.” “It may not; but it will be very disagreeable, as he is obliged to see so many people.” “No matter; all wounds are honourable in time of war, excepting, perhaps, a pair of black eyes.” “But what has become of your brave _compagnon de voyage_, P. M.? Has he recovered from the effects of his fright?” “All I know is, that he was not at breakfast this morning, and he told everybody last evening that he would not, for any amount of money, again accompany you, mademoiselle, or even her Majesty, through such danger as he incurred yesterday.” Every one who knew him laughed at his bravery, particularly Miss Nightingale, who, turning to Mr. Bracebridge, said--“Monsieur Soyer and myself are going to the General Hospital, and thence to the Sanatorium, where I wish you to be kind enough to meet us.” “About what time?” inquired Mr. Bracebridge. “Two o’clock, as at that hour Mr. Anderson and Dr. Sutherland will be there about the ventilation.” We then started. The roads were very muddy. I observed to Miss Nightingale that she ought to have had boots made on purpose for such rough walking, to which, she assented, saying, “I will do so, Monsieur Soyer.” As we were passing, I left my card at Colonel Hardinge’s, the commandant of Balaklava. I had the pleasure of meeting many officers there with whom I was acquainted; they all gave

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