“On my way to the General Hospital,” I continued, “in the morning, I saw the tent and the place where the cannon-ball fell. I have the piece of canvas the shot passed through; it was given me by Dr. Taylor of the Third Division, who took me to see it. It bears the name of the man killed and the date of the accident. The doctor, after cutting out the piece which was hanging to the tent, wrote the particulars upon it himself. I will show it to you this evening, general. My man has the relic with him.” Some officers came and conversed with the general for a short time while we were before the Guards’ camp. On the esplanade the men were parading for the trenches; there might have been four companies. The general spoke to the commanding officers, and they all started. A detachment of the Scots Fusiliers, headed by a band of music playing a lively tune, were returning from the funeral of one of their officers. This scene made a singular impression upon me. I was, in the first place, struck at seeing those fine fellows going, some probably to their doom--for who could tell how many would get back safely?--and in the second place, at the sight of the return of the funeral, playing such a joyous strain. This I learned, upon inquiry, was always the case after interring the corpse and leaving the cemetery. One company had not started for the trenches. It was commanded by Colonel Seymour of the Guards, now aide-de-camp to H.R.H. Prince Albert. General Simpson, who had been some time talking with that officer, said to me, “Monsieur Soyer, here is Colonel Seymour, who will render you any assistance you may require.” “Much obliged, general.” “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.”