The truth of the observation I respectfully admitted, with a low bow, adding, “Your Excellency is right; but as the probability is that something to be cooked never yet entirely failed, and in expectation of better times coming, we confidently hope that the provisions for the army will shortly be on the increase instead of the decrease. This hope has induced me to invent this apparatus, of which, when its principle has been fully explained, I have no doubt you will, with Lord Raglan, approve.”
“Monsieur Soyer, I have no doubt that, as regards cooking, you are a very clever man; but if you could manage to cook a dinner out of nothing, you would be more clever still.”
“Not having tried the experiment, I really cannot say whether I could do so or not; but I will try, and then report progress to your Excellency.”
A hearty laugh from all present terminated this petite plaisanterie. This brought to my mind the story of a very promising schoolboy, who, when asked by a learned man whether he could speak Latin, replied, “I cannot tell, sir.”
“Because I never tried, sir,” was the answer.
“At all events,” I continued, addressing Omer Pacha, “you will perceive that if I cannot make something out of nothing, I am able to do a great deal with a little, which in war-time is a very important matter.”
“Very true; but pray show me the interior of this little model.”
Having shown and explained the apparatus, Omer Pacha admitted its practicability, and, after giving me a few hints on the Turkish system of camp cookery, retired, followed by his staff, wishing me every success. Lord Raglan met Omer Pacha in the passage, and they exchanged a few words, which I could hear bore reference to the subject we had discussed. I was leaving, when Lord Raglan re-entered.
“So you are going, Monsieur Soyer?”