On reaching home, I found the promised letters from Mr. Stafford, all my luggage packed, and was on the point of starting, when I learned that the gentleman who was going with me as secretary, and had his passport ready, declined to accompany me. His relations and friends had persuaded him not to go, the fever being so bad there, and so many deaths occurring daily. I was thus placed in an awkward position, and was, moreover, pestered at home by intrusive visitors, and no end of ridiculous letters. I thought of starting alone; but, upon reflection, I decided upon passing the evening at the Adelaide Hotel, at London Bridge, and in the morning looking out for another party; thus, to my great annoyance, losing another day. To start alone without a first-class companion for so long a journey was a sad affair. I must observe that I had previously engaged two young men, at high wages, as cooks, one of whom declined going to Scutari, but did not mind the Crimea; the other fell ill. Thus, my prospects on the eve of my departure were anything but favourable. Next morning, while driving along Piccadilly, I met a friend, who, in congratulating me upon my proposed journey, and wishing me success in my undertaking, said, “So Mr. L---- is going with you as secretary, is he not?” “No, he is not! he has left me in the lurch at the last minute; and, my dear fellow, I can tell you what, there is a chance for you--it is only for two or three months--you will be well paid, and all expenses defrayed.” “It is very kind of you to make me the offer,” he replied; “but I cannot leave my business at a minute’s notice. How long could you give me to prepare?” “Oh! I am off this evening by the mail.” “I have no clothes ready for travelling.” “Never mind that; you can get all you require in Paris, where I shall remain two days upon business.” “Indeed! then in two hours I will give you a decided answer.” At the expiration of that time my friend made his appearance. We drew up an agreement, got his passport, and started the same evening; but not on the sly, as I had anticipated. Having forgotten to warn T. G. not to mention the fact of our intended journey, he had called upon several of his friends, with some of whom I was acquainted, and to my surprise, when I reached the station, I found about twenty assembled to bid us farewell. If I mention this circumstance, it is only to have an opportunity of publicly thanking those gentlemen for their hearty farewell, and three cheers--the echo of which still vibrates in my heart, and was through the whole of my culinary campaign a high source of gratification to my feelings. That night we slept at the Pavilion Hotel, Folkestone. CHAPTER IV. DELIGHTS OF TRAVEL.