The Thin Red Line; and Blue Blood Part 44

The demand for drink was incessant and kept the attendants busy. There were only two of them: the proprietress, a dark-skinned lady, familiarly termed Mother Charcoal, and a mite of a boy whom the English customers called the "imp" and the French _polisson_ (rogue).

Mother Charcoal was a stout but comely negress, hailing originally from Jamaica, who had come to Constantinople as stewardess in one of the transport-s.h.i.+ps. Being of an enterprising nature, she had hastened to the seat of war and sunk all her ready-money in opening a canteen.

She was soon very popular with the allied troops of every nationality and did a roaring trade.

"Some brandy--your best, my black Venus!" shouted Hyde.

"Who you call names? Me no Venus."

"Well, Mrs. Charcoal, then; that name suits your colour."

"What colour? You call me coloured? I no common n.i.g.g.e.r, let me tell you, sah; I a Georgetown lady. Me wash for officers' wives and give dignity-b.a.l.l.s in my own home. Black Venus! Charcoal! You call me my right name. Sophimisby Cleopatra Plantagenet Sprotts: that my right name."

"Well, Mrs. S.C.P.S., I can't get my tongue round them all; fetch the brandy or send it. We will talk about your pedigree and Christian names some other time."

This chaffing colloquy had raised a general laugh and put Hyde on good terms with the company.

"What news from the front, sergeant?" asked one of the Land Transport Corps, a new comer.

"Nothing much on our side, except that they say there will be a new bombardment in a few days. But the French, were pretty busy last night, to judge from the firing."

"What was it?"

"Perhaps our friend here can tell you" and he turned to Anatole, asking the question in French.

"A glorious affair, truly!" replied the Frenchman, delighted to have an opportunity of launching out.

"I was there--I, who speak to you."

"Tell us about it," said Hyde; "I will interpret it to these gentlemen."

"The Russians, you must understand, have been forming ambuscades in front of our bastion Du Mat, which have given us infinite trouble.

Last night we attacked them in three columns, 10,000 strong, and drove them out."

"Well done!"

"It was splendidly done!" went on Anatole, bombastically. "Three times the enemy tried to retake their ambuscades; three times we beat them back at the point of the bayonet, so!"

And the excitable Frenchman jumped from his seat and went through the pantomime of charging with the bayonet.

"You lost many men?"

"Thousands. What matter? we have many more to come. The Imperial Guard has landed, and the reserve, are at Constantinople."

"Yes, and there are the 'Sardines,'" said another pointing to the new uniform.

"Plenty of new arrivals. M. Soyer, the great cook, landed yesterday."

"What on earth brings him?"

"He is going to teach the troops to make omelettes and biscuit-soup."

"We were ahead of him in that, I think," said Hyde, winking at Anatole.

"He is with Miss Nightingale, you know, who has come out as head nurse."

"Heaven bless her!"

"Well, for all the new arrivals, we don't get on very fast with the siege."

"Why don't they go into the place, without all this s.h.i.+lly-shallying?"

cried an impetuous Briton. "We'd take the place--we, the rank and file--if the generals only would let us do the work alone."

"They are a poor lot, the generals, I say."

"Halt, there! not a word against Lord Raglan," cried Hyde.

"He is so slow."

"Yes, but he is uncommon sure. Have you ever seen him in action? I have. He knows how to command: so quiet and self-possessed. Such a different man from the French generals, who always shout and swear and make such a confounded row. What do you think of your generals, Anatole?"

"Canrobert is an imbecile; he never knows his own mind."

"Well, we shan't be troubled with him much longer," said a fresh arrival. "Canrobert has just resigned the chief command."

"Impossible!" said Anatole, when the news was interpreted to him.

"It is perfectly true, I a.s.sure you," replied the last speaker. "I have just come from the English headquarters, and saw the new French commander-in-chief there. Palliser, I think they call him."

"Pelissier," said the French sergeant, correcting him. "That is good news. A rare old dog of war that. We shan't wait long to attack if he has the ordering."

"They say the Russian generals have changed lately. Gortschakoff has succeeded Mentschikoff."

"Confound those koffs! They are worse than a cold in the head."

"And just as difficult to get rid of. I'd like to wring their necks, and every Russian's at Sebastopol."

"Mentschikoff could not have been a bad fellow, anyway."

"How do you know that?"

"Why, one of our officers who was taken prisoner at Inkerman has just come back to camp. I heard him say that while he was in Sebastopol he got a letter from his young woman at home. She said she hoped he would take Mentschikoff prisoner, and send her home a b.u.t.ton off his coat."

"Well?"

"The letter was read by the Russian authorities before they gave it him, and some one told the general what the English girl had said."

"He got mad, I suppose?"

"Not at all. He sent on the letter to its destination, with a note of his own, presenting his compliments, and regrets that he could not allow himself to be taken prisoner, but saying that he had much pleasure in inclosing the b.u.t.ton, for transmission to England."