As we lay in position at our post at La Cormorandiere, hourly expecting the landing of the enemy, it was reported by our surgeon-general, M. Guerin, that we were utterly without provision of lint, brandy, and other necessities for the wounded. A messenger was instantly despatched with a requisition to the Commissary, but he returned with a message from Prevost saying, "There are none of these articles in the King's magazines; if the English force our intrenchments, it will be their business to take care of the wounded; if, on the other hand, we are successful, we shall have time enough to attend to them." Our colonel, M. de St. Julhien, read this heartless reply aloud, amid the deepest execrations on the part of our officers, and then turning to me, said, "Here, Chevalier, I understand there is no love lost between you and this creature. I commission you to see that these requirements are fulfilled by the morning." And he sate down and wrote an order on the Commissary to "deliver to the Chevalier Maxwell such stores as he may demand for the use of the Company d'Artois." Armed with this authority, I set forth at once, and arriving at the town about eight o'clock, made my way to the Commissary's house and demanded him with scant ceremony. He appeared with but little delay, and I caught sight of the bright face of Madame, alight with curiosity, behind him, though he clapped the door to sharply enough. "Well, Monsieur le Lieutenant"--he took a petty spite in disregarding my title of Chevalier--"what brings you here away from your post?" "Only the definite intention, M. le Commissaire, of seeing that you obey orders. I require stores for my colonel; there is his order, and if you try any of your devil's tricks with me, sir, I will make no more of running you through than I would a rat." He turned as white as a piece of dried plaster. "Come, sir, none of your shuffling. I want an answer at once." "You'll get no answer from me, sir, other than I have sent. I have no stores; the magazines are empty." "I know you to be a thief, M. le Commissaire, and it is no great stretch of imagination to believe you a liar. Show me your vaults." "Very well, very well. We shall see who is right. We shall see who is a liar," and he started off with alacrity. "Wait, sir! Where are you going?" "Only into the next room to get my keys." "Very well; I'll go with you," and I followed him into the next room. Here we found Madame on tiptoe with excitement and curiosity. "Where are you going? What is the matter?" she asked, quickly. "None of your business!" roared her husband, with his usual brutality. "Only into the vault to look for stores." I answered, throwing as much feeling into the commonplace answer as was possible.