On the seventh day, I happened to be riding triumphantly through the camp with my tall guardsman Thomas before me. He was carrying a fine piece of roast-beef--or at least beef for roasting--which I had begged of the captain of a vessel who came from Alexandria, and intended for Lord Raglan. But I must here observe that it would have been dangerous to cross the camp with such a precious treasure unguarded, as some of those marauding Jack Sheppards of Zouaves would have thought nothing of taking possession of it. They always went in strong bodies, and were ever on the look-out for prey. I said to myself, “If, in the middle of the road, and under my own eyes, they will steal a horse, nothing is more certain than they will try to borrow this”--the word “steal” was not allowed to be mentioned in the French camp, the word “borrow” sounding more genteel.
The loss of the beef, added to the rumoured loss of the four horses, would indeed have afforded abundant materials for fun; so I sent my avant-guard by the road on foot, instead of across country, and followed him on horseback. This plan gave me an opportunity of seeing Mrs. Seacole, to thank her for her kind exertions, although the missing pony had not been found. On reaching her place, I found several mounted officers taking refreshment; when Miss Sally Seacole (her daughter), whose name I have not yet introduced, called out--“Mother, mother! here is Monsieur Soyer!” This announcement brought her out immediately, and she exclaimed, “Good luck to you, my son! we have found your pony: come down. Here are some officers who say they have had a grey pony like yours in the stables of their regiment these last few days. Didn’t you say so, gentlemen?”
“Yes, Monsieur Soyer!” said one, “but you must look sharp, for they are going to sell it to-morrow, if no one claims it.”
“Many thanks for the warning. I will ride over directly. Pray, what is the number of the regiment?”
“The 93rd--fourth division--near the Woronzoff-road. I am almost sure it is yours.”
“Well, my son,” said Mrs. Seacole, “didn’t I tell you that it would be found?”
“Really, Mrs. Seacole, I don’t know what I shall give you for the trouble you have taken in this affair. At all events, here is something on account,”--saluting her upon her deeply-shaded forehead, at which every one present laughed and joked.