At the time of the march to Candahar, the newspapers, and even the despatches, had made frequent reference to the exploits of a wonderful Corporal Smith, who belonged to the gallant Fortieth. These exploits were now to have their reward. Her Majesty having determined to honour with a visit the Duchess of Ribblesdale, who had formerly held an office about the royal person, was further graciously pleased to express her intention of inspecting the troop of the Fortieth on the occasion of her visit, and of conferring the Victoria Cross at the same time upon the whilome Corporal Smith, who, upon his return to England, had been promoted to the rank of Sergeant. When the day appointed for the royal visit arrived, it was found that “the Queen’s weather” had for once deserted her. Never was there a wetter day; the rain fell in buckets, and the barrack court in front of the palace resembled a lake. At this unfortunate crisis of affairs somebody official suggested the happy idea that Her Majesty should inspect the troop, and present the decoration to Sergeant Smith, who had already arrived from Hounslow, in Cardinal Wolsey’s Hall. The Queen signified her assent to this proposal, and at the appointed time repaired to that noble chamber, where a chair of state was placed for her use upon the edge of the dais. In front of this, and below it, in the body of the Hall, the troopers were drawn up in a square, open at the upper end; and the Queen, standing on the step of the dais in front of her seat, commanded the Sergeant to be brought before her. Meanwhile, the dense crowd of spectators, which included almost all the inmates of the Palace, as well as many persons from outside, stood beyond the line of soldiers, and saw as much of the ceremony as they could. Those who were tall enough to see anything, were astonished at the personal beauty and youthful appearance of the Sergeant who had so distinguished himself. He seemed, in truth, little more than a boy in years, and was just such a ruddy stripling as he who, of old time, had done battle with Goliath of Gath. The young man advanced with kindling eyes, but modest demeanour, to the foot of the dais, and his Sovereign, stepping forward, addressed to him some gracious words expressive of her admiration and her appreciation of his noble conduct, and at the same time pinned the Cross of Honour upon his breast. At that moment a cry, half-scream, half-exclamation, was heard from the bottom of the Hall, which seemed to sound like the syllable “Wil----,” and then a stir and rustle occurred, which showed that something unusual had happened. The cry seemed to reach the ears of the young hero, who was observed by some of the bystanders to tremble and turn pale, but this was deemed by most to proceed from nervousness. Her Majesty, turning to an attendant, commanded him to ascertain what was the matter. “Only a lady had fainted in the crowd;” such was the report brought back to the Queen,