“I will not trouble you, as I would not disturb him on such a day for the world. I am glad to hear he is safe; but have you seen two gentlemen?” “No one excepting yourself, sir. You must come with me; my master is alone, waiting for the Colonel, and I’m sure they will both be happy to see you.” Colonel Wyndham had just changed his clothes before going to the Colonel’s to dine. His servant showed them to me; they were covered with blood and dust. I followed him to Colonel Wood’s hut, and found Colonel Wyndham walking quickly to and fro in the hut, apparently much preoccupied and excited. His eyes emitted flashes of fire, his open countenance had assumed its usual majestic calm and dignity, his lips were parched, his proud brow betokened much restlessness, and though his forehead was covered with glory, you could perceive through the wreath of laurel which had only a few hours before been deposited there by Mars, a deep shadow of thoughtfulness and care. His physiognomy told a tale. Victory had of him made a great hero, without having had time to put her final seal to his martial and petulant ardour. Another battle was yet to be fought. Seeing me, he came forward and shook me by the hand, inviting me to enter. We were together about half-an-hour, and he related to me the great events of the attack upon the Redan, now so well known to the public. Colonel Wood came in, also free from wounds, to the delight of all, and invited me to dine with them. I told him that I had already dined, but could not refuse the honour upon so memorable an occasion. We then sat down to dinner. François,[20] the Colonel’s French cook, with whose culinary capacities I was well acquainted, having dined several times with the Colonel, told me he never felt less interest, or prepared a dinner with so much reluctance, fearing no one would return to eat it after such a sanguinary battle. Highly delighted was he when Colonel Wyndham came in, and more so when he found that his excellent governor (as he called him) had returned safe and sound. Every officer in the camp knew François, and the Colonel’s table got quite in repute through the exertions of this culinary disciple of Vattel. He used to go to the trenches, leaving his own batteries to brave those of the enemy, and all this for the comfort of his excellent governor. He was much liked by all, and always had a budget of anecdotes, some of them very interesting. He had lived as cook and major domo for several years with Madame Grisi. The last time I saw him he was in daily expectation of the Sebastopol medal.