“Oh,” said the colonel, “Monsieur Soyer and myself are old acquaintances. I often paid you a visit at the Reform Club.”
“Indeed, colonel!”
“Certainly—very often.”
Though the face was well known to me, I could not for the life of me recognise the colonel, he had such a large beard and mustachios. General Simpson then left us together, and I observed that I should give him as little trouble as possible, but for a short time should require all his kind assistance for the opening of my kitchen.
“You may depend upon me, Monsieur Soyer,” he said,—“that is, if I return safe from the trenches.”
“I sincerely hope you may.”
“No one can tell. Thank God, I have been very fortunate so far.”
“I hope that you will continue to be so.”
We made an appointment. He started on horseback at the head of his men. I was introduced to numerous other officers by the general, and afterwards by the colonel, with many of whom I had the honour of being previously acquainted. Having selected a spot on the esplanade facing the centre avenue which divided the Coldstreams from the Scots Fusiliers, I returned alone to head-quarters, it being then nearly dinner-time. My Zouave had got back from Balaklava, whither I had sent him to fetch my evening dress, in which I immediately attired myself, as dinner was upon the table. We sat down about twelve in number. As I was nearly opposite General Simpson, I had the opportunity of conversing with him upon various subjects. For a Crimean dinner, it was a very good one indeed. Colonel Steele and Captain Colville, who were sitting next me, attributed it to my presence, and said that the cook—Nicolo—had certainly distinguished himself upon the occasion.
“I am much pleased,” I replied, “to be the cause of so great an improvement in the culinary department, and hope for the future the Commander-in-chief will avail himself of my influence by often inviting me to dine at head-quarters.”