Upon asking what they were drinking, they said, “Coffee; would you like to taste it?” “With great pleasure,” said I. Upon which they gave me some. It was not bad, but required a little more sugar. “Well,” they said, “we sometimes buy some, as we are only allowed about enough for breakfast.” I requested their acceptance of a few shillings to drink la goutte, which one of them immediately refused, saying, “No, no, Bourgeois; we did not ask you to taste our coffee wishing to make you pay for it.”
“I know that, my dear fellow; this is to drink our health.”
“We will do that, then, and no mistake.”
“Good evening, my men, and thank you,” said I. P. M. then started off at a gallop. I immediately stopped him, pretending that if we were seen we were sure to be locked up all night, our lady fair not being with us, the colonel would not joke.
“Well,” said he, fiercely, “it would only be for one night, I suppose.”
“Yes, one at least.”
“I should prefer being locked up all night in the guard-house to venturing in the dark among so many brigands as the Zouaves say there are roaming about. There we should be in safety; while here we may be shot at any moment.”
As we were descending a deep ravine, we heard a female voice, and then the voices of gentlemen. I had no doubt but that these proceeded from Miss Nightingale and party, who were going slowly down the rocky side of the ravine. Leaping from our horses, we went faster on foot; and in about ten minutes succeeded, thanks to the light of the stars, in catching them. When within hail, I called out, “Who goes there?” The reply assured me they were our fair lady and her two cavaliers. On our joining them they said they almost felt afraid that we had been made prisoners; and Mr. Anderson said he had already given us up. Miss Nightingale and Mr. Bracebridge were of the same opinion, and they laughed heartily at P. M.’s description of our dreadful adventure, as he called it. We were then at the other side of the ravine, and close to a road which Mr. Anderson recognised as the one leading from Balaklava to head-quarters.
At last, we were in a fair way of reaching home that night, which P. M. had long despaired of. The conversation became very animated; and I much amused Miss Nightingale and party with my recital of what the Zouave had said respecting his colonel. I also related the coffee business—Miss Nightingale made particular inquiries as to its quality. Having replied to her questions, and being a little ahead, I arrived first at the top of a high hill, and immediately caught sight of the hundreds of lights in the little low shops at Kadikoi. We were all right at last; but the road being steep and very greasy, Miss Nightingale’s pony slipped fearfully, which induced Mr. Anderson, who was nearest to her, to dismount and lead it down the hill as far as the village. We then passed through Kadikoi, which presented a different scene to that of the morning, but still animated, from the groups of Turkish and Greek labourers returning to their quarters, and a quantity of drunken men rolling about. We reached the watering-place at the end of the harbour at last. Miss Nightingale’s pony, which was again led by Mr. Anderson—this spot being, night and day, full of horses—suddenly turned round to get to the trough, very nearly throwing Miss Nightingale off, and probably would have done so, had it not been held by Mr. Anderson, who received a tremendous knock in the face from the brute’s head. This accident made him bleed profusely, and gave him a pair of black eyes. Of this we were not aware until we arrived at the hospital, and could scarcely believe it when we did.
Miss Nightingale and a doctor attended him immediately; and upon inquiring when it happened, he coolly replied, “About ten minutes ago, while we were watering the horses.”