During those twelve days some very sharp skirmishing took place, and there was talk of an attack on Balaclava from the Kamara side, in which case Miss Nightingale’s hut would, it was said, be the first outpost to be attacked. Any such notion was, of course, an injustice to the Russians, who would not knowingly have hurt a hair of her head—indeed, it may almost be said that she was sacred to all the troops, whether friends or foes. But at all events it gave her boy Thomas his opportunity, and he was prepared, we are told, “to die valiantly in defence of his mistress.” Soyer gives a picturesque account of Lord Raglan’s visit to Miss Nightingale when her recovery was first beginning. He begins by describing his own visit, and tells the story through the lips of Mrs. Roberts, Miss Nightingale’s faithful nurse. “ ... I was,” he writes, “very anxious to know the actual state of Miss Nightingale’s health, and went to her hut to inquire. I found Mrs. Roberts, who was quite astonished and very much delighted to see me. “‘Thank God, Monsieur Soyer,’ she exclaimed, ‘you are here again. We have all been in such a way about you. Why, it was reported that you had been taken prisoner by the Russians. I must go and tell Miss Nightingale you are found again.’ “‘Don’t disturb her now. I understand Lord Raglan has been to see her.’ “‘Yes, he has, and I made a serious mistake. It was about five o’clock in the afternoon when he came. Miss Nightingale was dozing, after a very restless night. We had a storm that day and it was very wet. I was in my room sewing when two men on horseback, wrapped in large gutta-percha cloaks and dripping wet, knocked at the door. I went out, and one inquired in which hut Miss Nightingale resided. “‘He spoke so loud that I said, “Hist! hist! don’t make such a horrible noise as that, my man,” at the same time making a sign with both hands for him to be quiet. He then repeated his question, but not in so loud a tone. I told him this was the hut. “‘“All right,” said he, jumping from his horse, and he was walking straight in when I pushed him back, asking what he meant and whom he wanted. “‘“Miss Nightingale,” said he. “‘“And pray who are you?” “‘“Oh, only a soldier,” was the reply; “but I must see her—I have come a long way—my name is Raglan: she knows me very well.” “‘Miss Nightingale, overhearing him, called me in, saying, “Oh! Mrs. Roberts, it is Lord Raglan. Pray tell him I have a very bad fever, and it will be dangerous for him to come near me.” “‘“I have no fear of fever, or anything else,” said Lord Raglan.