"In eight days. Fortunately my wife is more contented over it than ever she was when I went to fight the armies of the Little Corporal. She always used to vow that I would never come back. Now she believes that I will."
"I think he has done fighting enough," was that lady's quick response. "To march a few hundred miles through the woods to build a garrison, and then to return home, is all they ask of him; a much better prospect—to his wife at least—than to have another fight with the French."
Dinner was announced, and the host led the way with the Colonel's wife upon his arm.
"That husband of yours is a brave fellow," was his comment; "and my lady, you need not be nervous about him. He's as true as steel, a good disciplinarian, yet one of the kindest men who ever lived."
"Perhaps you are thinking of Talavera," she answered, her face flushing with pleasure. "You know he helped some of the wounded French out of the ditch after the battle was over."
"Yes, but he made two of his own men stand in the stocks all night for letting another Frenchman run away," was his laughing answer.
When seated at the table the conversation became general, but soon drifted back to Sir George Head's prospective trip.
"It will be a new experience," exclaimed Sir Charles; "snowshoeing through Canada in January instead of marching through Spain in July."
"I have ordered my men a double supply of under garments as a safeguard," said the Colonel.
"What about night quarters on the road?" queried the hostess.